#i was like no the coms just got fucked up

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

i show up to the party just to leave

tw: angst, unrequited feelings, dubcon, asshole behavior, degradation, dacryphilia, y/n isn't a great person, neither is anyone else.

a/n: part 2 of seems like the life i need is a little distant. this has been sitting in the google docs since dec 2021....i really hope i haven't already posted this :[ also guys it's been a while, so if i have to add some tw's or whatnot let me know...achieved unc status i fear

: : :

The sheets still smell like him. Sharp notes of mint and sage and the ever-present smell of nicotine that seemed to cling to his body.

You had cried yourself to sleep last night. After Eren had essentially just fucked you and left. All you want to do is stay in bed and curl up in a shell.

But alas, there’s class to attend. And Plan B to buy since the dark-haired boy had insisted on cumming inside of you.

It’s not like he usually slept over so you have no reason to be so dramatic. It’s not like last night was the first booty call, and he’s always been one for degradation in bed. And you especially don’t mind being called a slut if he’s calling you his slut.

But you feel used. Disposable. Like the cigarettes, he crushes under his heel after ashing them out.

You roll over and check your phone, and the screen is filled with messages along the lines of:

Good morning.

I’m at the cafe, just picking up some breakfast. What drink do you want?

Got you a chai latte because that’s what you usually get. And a blueberry scone.

Don’t be late to anthro!

The messages make you smile. Colt Grice is sweet. Tooth-rotting sweet. You look over at the clock by your bedside. If you leave within 15 minutes, you’ll have enough to grab what you need from the pharmacy while making it to class on time.

“You made it! I was sure you wouldn’t.” There’s an easy smile on the blond’s face, beaming and bright. You dramatically sigh, “Praying on my downfall, huh?”

He hands you the brown bakery bag, “Never that.”

You sink into the chair, letting out a sigh. You hadn’t done the reading, and there was a long homework assignment due tonight.

“I emailed the reflection to you.”

You whip your head in surprise, “You did what?”

He shrugs, “I figured it’d help.”

“No, I mean, I know it will. Thank you.” And softer, “But you didn’t have to.”

His hazel eyes meet yours, “You seem tired lately. I don’t want you to strain yourself.”

You wonder if tired is a code word for awful. You look awful right now, dressed in a college sweater with faded letters and a dark stain you’ve never quite managed to get rid of, and sweatpants you haphazardly threw on.

You flick his forehead, “Mean anything by that? Don’t you know you’re not supposed to say a woman looks tired?” Your expression is deadpan but there’s a teasing lilt in your voice that’s specially reserved for him.

The tips of his ears burn red, “What? No, I didn’t say that. You look great. You...a-always look great.” His response makes you grin, and you break half of the scone to offer to him. He waves his hand away, “No, that’s for you.”

He watches as you lick the crumbs off your lips, “Suit yourself.”

You’re walking back from class, side by side with Colt, hands doing an awkward dance as pinkies nearly touch. As the distance seems to close, someone nearly ambushes you as they place their large arms over your and Colt’s shoulders. The blond himself nearly jumps in shock.

“Reiner.” Colt groans, “You have to stop jumping on us like this.”

“Why?” The spiky-haired jock chuckles, “Can’t handle a little-”

“You could have hurt her.”

You roll your eyes, waving his worries away, “I’m fine. What’s up, Reiner?”

“Just was just gonna ask you if you’re coming to Zeke’s party Saturday, Colt.”

Colt wrinkles his nose as if he heard something distasteful, “The one he’s hosting at Liberio? No thanks.”

The taller blond growls at his friend, “Out of everyone, you should really come. Think of everything he’s done for you.”

You place a hand on Reiner’s shoulder, “You know...I could probably get him to come.” You wink before placing a thoughtful finger on your lips, “But I’d have to be invited right? I don’t really know Zeke…”

But you’ve always wanted to go to Liberio, the hottest nightclub in the city, wildly exclusive and glitzy.

Reiner smiles at you, flirtatious eyes zeroing in on your suggestive demeanor, “Yeah, of course, you can come. You can be Colt’s plus one,” You sigh in relief, but don’t anticipate the sneer on his face, “...Or you can be Eren’s. You’re pretty close right?”

Your blood runs ice cold, and there’s surprise written all over your face. There’s no comeback at the tip of your tongue but thankfully your best friend has always been quite perspective.

“Okay, Reiner. Thanks for the reminder. We’ve really gotta go now.” He cuts the conversation short and drags you away to a bench under the shadow of a large tree. You sit, but he stands over you like a disappointed parent.

But here’s the primetime for an awkward conversation.

“You’re close to Eren? I didn’t even know that you knew him.”

You bit your already chapped lips, a habit that the hazel-eyed boy wishes you’d quit. He fishes his pocket for the vanilla chapstick and wordlessly hands it to you.

“We’re just friends.” You grumble under your breath.

He sighs, and you hate that he’s making you feel so guilty. What do you even have to feel so guilty for?

Taking a deep breath, he starts what sounds strikingly similar to a lecture, “Eren Yeager is not a good guy, I’ve told you this before, right-”

“You literally have no right to scold me like this when you’re practically besties with fucking Reiner. And fuck, Zeke? Zeke?-”

The tall blond takes a seat next to you, watching as you rub the salve over your bitten lips, “It’s complicated,” He sighs again, a sound you’re getting tired of, “I’ve just known them for a very long time. And our families-”

A heartbeat. Both of you watch the leaves fall.

“--Shit.” It’s rare for him to curse.

“Colt.” You say.

“I’m kind of dreading it, but...maybe it’ll be more bearable with you there.”

You playfully punch his arm, happy to see him admit he did want you to come, “I think it’ll be fun. I’ve never partied with you, y’know,” You pause, looking at him with wide eyes, placing a piece of hair behind your ear, looking so delectably innocent in the way you know he likes, “Wanna see what you look like drinking shots.”

“I’m not really like that though.” He admits.

The club is everything you imagined. It feels like it’s straight out a scene of the Hollywood movies with the smoke, strobe lights, and beautiful bodies strewn across the dancefloor. You’re grateful you’re wearing your friend’s dress tonight, a silky dark green number that fits your body like water. Nothing in your closet would have matched the caliber of tonight.

Colt gets a lump in his throat when he first sees you. Tries to keep his eyes on your pretty face so they don’t trail after your neckline or the skin left uncovered by the shortness of your dress. But he finds demise there too, he doesn’t want to stare too long at those kissable lips.

Still, he’s composed if not anything else. He’s too gentlemanly to touch you improperly. The hand on your back is feather-light. Doesn’t waver or tease lower.

“Remember, we can leave whenever, okay? If anything’s wrong-”

“Colt” You giggle, “Everything will be fine. Now, go socialize. Don’t you have important people to talk to?” You shoo him away, and he turns around with a look of defeat.

“If anything is wrong, come find me ok?” He affirms, and to reassure (and perhaps fluster) him, you thread your fingers between his, clasp your hands together and press a kiss on your joined knuckles, “Yes, yes. I know.”

The strobe lights shower his face in violet, and he’s grateful you can’t see how red he is.

You weave through the crowd with no particular purpose, dancing on beat to songs you can only remember half the lyrics to. There’s an attractive man who lingers behind you like he’s some ghost haunting you. You humor him because he’s way too cute to not entertain. Tall with slicked-back blond hair, broad shoulders, and an air of cockiness that should register as a red flag.

This song’s pretty. Synth heavy and melodic. The man behind you doesn’t shout his name over the music, he invades your personal space with large hands over your hips and whispers his name into your ear. Porco Galliard. The name sparks an unfortunate chord within you. Colt most certainly knew him, which means he was off-limits. 

It’s okay. You didn’t come here to hook up with a new boy toy today. You came here to have fun. You could dance with him a little.

He’s not afraid to touch you, hands all over your hips, pushing you closer. He’s so close, you could smell his aftershave. Minty. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend that his hair was dark. 

Porco bends his head to whisper in your ear, “You’re so intoxicating, I’ve always wanted to meet you.” 

Your eyes flutter in confusion. It’s cute, the blond thinks. Not minx-like like how you portray yourself, a deer caught under strobe lights. You frown, tilting your head, “Do you know who I am?”

He chuckles, and you could almost feel the vibrations of his deep voice. “Colt never really shuts up about you.” His fingers thrum on your hip, “His best friend.” The way he says those words are mocking, and you can feel your heart sink into your stomach. 

You lightly push his chest, “I-I should probably circulate.”

His eyes narrow but he doesn’t press, boldly kissing you on the apple of your cheeks and firmly squeezing your hip with the same hand that felt it was its right to situate itself there, “Come find me later.”

Definitely not, you think. That’s not going to happen. 

You leave the dance floor disjointed. Maybe you needed more liquid courage. Your eyes settle on an alcove on the second floor. Tentatively, you climb up the stairs, letting your intuition guide you. You wonder if it’s some kind of VIP room, as you look at the velvety walls and the private bar to the side. 

You’re about to turn around, knowing you probably won’t be let in since you’re essentially a no-body but you hear your name echoed behind you. 

It’s Reiner, and he gestures you to come into the room. You mutter thanks although you’re not quite sure what you’re thanking him for. 

“Some party huh?” He asks. 

Not in the mood for conversation, you simply nod. 

“Do you want to see Eren? I can take him to you.”

Even at the mention of his name, you could feel your heartbeat quicken, “Oh no, it’s totally fine. I’m sure I’ll catch him later.”

“But he’s right there”. And that dreaded pointer finger points to the large couch behind a table left messy with playing cards, crystal ashtray bowls, and shot glasses. It’s like you’re witnessing a stage with the bright lime-light only shining on Eren.

And the woman sprawled all over him. 

Reiner nudges you towards them, even though your feet don’t want to comply. You hate him for forcing you into this situation, no exit in sight. 

Eren’s eyes are closed, not like he’s napping, but merely resting. You can see the dark circles but fuck he looks good. He’s wearing a nice black button-up where most of the top buttons are left unfastened, showing off his nicely defined chest and you hate how you can’t tell who the small red marks on his skin are from. A string of pearls is around his neck, fastened like a choker. His legs are spread, his body half-sunken on the couch. 

There’s a pale hand stroking his chest. It belongs to one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen. She’s sitting with her knees tucked under her, all wrapped up in a short glitzy dress, the shape and fit not unlike your own but you don’t think you can pull off your dress like the way she does. Her hair is dark and curly, framing her shoulders, and she has one of those unique faces you can spot in high fashion magazines. 

The way they look next to each other, like Adonis and Helen, like two halves of a whole-it makes you want to eat your insides. 

“Whose your friend Reiner?” She asks, the coyness evident in her tone. 

Reiner beams next to you, “She’s Colt’s plus one”. You’ve never wanted to punch anyone more, although you’re more than sure you have nothing against the student football athlete built like a brick house. 

The dark-haired woman coos, “Isn’t that cute? I didn’t know Colty had a girlfriend.” She pouts, “And I thought he told me everything.” There’s a funny feeling building in your gut, twisting and reacting over the nickname. 

Eren opens his eyes, disturbed by the noise. You’re not prepared to meet his viridian eyes. The “we’re just friends” you were about to utter dies in the roof of your mouth. 

“She’s not Colt’s girlfriend.” His voice is cold and flat, slightly hoarse. He looks straight at you, “Right?” But it doesn’t really feel like he’s asking you anything. 

You jumble over your words, “Yes um, Colt and I are not dating. We’re-we’re just friends,” You finish awkwardly. 

The woman’s eyes narrowed into slits as she observes the interaction between you and Eren, your frazzled demeanor giving everything away, “Do you guys know each other?” A question not even remotely addressed to you. 

Taking a long hit from his disposable vape, he blows out rings. “Yeah. Same college”

Jesus. You think. All those thoughts and feelings and restless nights spent with him, and he summarizes your familiarity with each other as attending the same school which is funny because you honestly don’t know the last time Eren has attended any of his classes. 

She removes his hand from his chest and brings it to you, offering a handshake. “Hello, I’m Pieck.”

You force yourself not to think about how this hand had just rubbed up and down Eren’s chest, likely feeling over the love bites she left on his torso. You shake her hand, introducing yourself with a shaky breath. 

There’s no music, no distractions, a hazy dark room filled with smoke and people you were totally out of your element with.

Reiner and Pieck are talking about something, the words not sticking to your ears. Eren is staring right at you, through you. Viridian eyes staring soullessly, no words to fill the void, just him and his pretty mouth blowing out curls of vapor, nauseatingly sweet vapor that almost made you miss the cigarette stench. 

You feel awkward, you feel scrutinized, and when his eyes stare at all of you, from the plunge of your neckline, the exposed calves and kitten heels you wore because you were too clumsy for grown-up heels (she wore stilettos), you want the ground to swallow you whole.  

Clearing your throat, you cringe as you hear yourself talk, “I-uh, should get back. It was good to meet you, Pieck.” The words come out as a rush. 

The dark-haired woman pouts, “Oh but we just met. Though we could talk a little more, you know girl to girl.” She giggles. 

Reiner smirks “Let her go, Pieck. Colt’s probably worried sick looking for her.” Eren clenches his mouth at the blond’s words but says nothing. 

You can hear your heartbeat thud. No words come out so you merely smile weakly and half-heartedly wave to the trio. 

As you leave, you catch a tail-end of a conversation you wish you hadn’t, “Are we going back to your place after Eren?”

You reach the bar at the dance floor with lightning speed, wanting nothing but to dissolve like sugar. You ask the bartender for shots, shots, and shots, doesn’t matter what. You’ll drink the man-shaped loneliness in your heart until it bleeds out. Your throat burns but you’ve long learned to welcome the fire. 

You’re about to down your third shot of clear liquid until you feel a warm hand wrap around your shoulder. You turn around, about to give a stern piece of your mind until your eyes find concerned hazel ones. 

Colt. Good old best friend Colt. 

Good old Colt who loved you so much everyone teased you for it. Good old Colt who wore his heart on his sleeve and would never dream of touching a cigarette. 

You’re buzzed, not even properly drunk, but there’s a bubby overexcited feeling bursting out from the seams. 

“Hey, are you okay?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed into worry. 

You roll your eyes, so typical of him to always be so serious. “Come on”, you grab his hand, “Let’s have fun!” He lets you drag him away to the dancefloor, fully knowing that if he wanted to, he could just push himself out of your grip. 

The song that’s playing is one that you and Colt have blasted multiple times in his car and that song has played so many times in that car, he swore he’d never play it again. 

“This is our song” you giggle, and poor, awkward Colt who unaccustomed to dancing merely stands, peering over you with a mix of worry and puzzlement, 

“I think you’ve had too much.” He tries to grasp your shoulders but you slink away in time. You’re perfectly fine, he’s just too much of a square to realize what having a good time is.

Batting your eyelashes, you look up at him, “Just follow my lead ok?” You guide his shyly eager hands to your hips. He looks at you like…he looks at you like…

Shit. Is this what Eren sees? When he looks at you? Genuine unadulterated admiration. No admiration isn’t it, this unnamed feeling has more weight.  

You intertwined your fingers with Colt’s warm hands. He’s red but he welcomes the touch, moving his body to the beat, and you giggle at his attempted dancing. He laughs too and all is warm and good. So warm and good, but not enough.

You crush your lips against the blond’s and you can feel him go still. But that moment of hesitation passes because he’s crushing his lips against yours too, hand digging deep into your back. You part your mouth, kissing his teeth and his tongue moves against yours. Slowly, sensually, sweetly. 

Without warning, he pulls back abruptly. 

He’s all flushed, “Wait, why…why did you kiss me?” What an entirely unromantic question. 

You give him a smile so wide your cheeks hurt, “You didn’t like it?”

He stumbles over his words, “No-No I did, I liked it a lot” You wish you could kill the pause, “...But…do you like me?”

You tilt your head, “Of course I like you Colt.”

He doesn’t believe you, you realize. And you’re not sure you believe it either. 

“N-no you don’t.” A deep breath, “I like you a lot. I think you know that.” Your nails dig into your palms so deeply. What’s he doing? Is he getting himself ready to ride the high horse?

“It’s not that deep…” You cut in. 

“No, it is that deep. I like you so so much, fuck I-” A deeper breath, “I like you too much to be used.”

I like you too much to be used. 

That doesn’t make sense, does it? Don’t you make yourself dispensable for the people you love? 

He takes a step back, voice so soft you want to screech, “I’m going to go home. If you need a ride back when you decide to leave, Sasha can take you home.”

“Colt” your voice is on the verge of breaking, “You don’t have to leave.” His lips are swollen, freshly kissed. 

He smiles at you, asymmetric and sad: “I should have left long ago.”

When you find Porco, there is no preamble. You whine not here and he pins you against the walls in the alleyway near the back exit of the club. It’s cold and when you exhale, you can see air. Porco is comfortably warm in his bomber jacket that he’ll never offer you. You didn’t want anyone to see you and the dark blond in the club, but it’s so cold out here. 

He moves too fast, hiking your leg up, slotting himself between your thighs. He pulls your dress down without much of a prelude, feeling up your soft breasts with calloused hands. He pulls on the nipple between his teeth, “You like this huh?” Your nipples are stiff because it’s cold, not because of his frenzied ministrations. 

He’s three fingers inside you when you push against his shoulder, “S-stop.” 

Agitation colors his face, “What do you mean?” As if to emphasize, his bulge presses against your core.

Maybe you should let him have his way. It wouldn’t be too bad. Probably wouldn’t last very long either, but your teeth are chattering and you hate how blond Porco’s hair is. 

But this is a situation. You hold on to his shoulders tightly, trying to force over the awkward words, “I w-want you to stop.” 

Reluctantly, he pulls his fingers out of you, annoyance etched onto his handsome features, “You’re a fucking tease.”

And he leaves like that. You let yourself slide against the wall, knees tucked to your chin. In a second, you’ll fish your phone out and call an Uber, but for now you just want-

You’re not very sure what you want. A moment to yourself? When has a moment to yourself never been miserable? 

You hide your head in your arms, ignoring the goosebumps prickling on your arms. 

Your nose reacts first. Those damn cigarettes. 

Raising your head up, you see the dark-haired archangel who haunts your dreams and nightmares. The street lamp’s light behind him makes him look ethereal, an angel with a street lamp halo.

Eren simply stands, watching you. You’re not in the mood to break the silence. Awkwardly, you hoist yourself up. Your heart is beating, but you don’t know if you have it in you to make yet another man disappointed. Of course, you could never disappoint Eren because he never expected much, did he? What was there to disappoint?

You forget though. Eren’s capable of apathy. 

And cruelty. 

“Colt ran off on you so you fucked his friend?”

You grit your teeth, “That’s none of your fucking business. And no I didn’t.”

The corner of his mouth perked up, “That’s good. You should be wary of the diseases he’s carrying.”

“As opposed to what?” You snark back, “How many sluts are you fucking?”

You didn’t mean for it to sound so bitter, but it makes him throw his head back in laughter, “Besides you, I can’t really think of anyone else.”

That’s it. You’re about to leave but a large hand overwhelms your wrist, “I’m kidding. You know that.” 

You try to pull away but he doesn’t let you, instead of pulling you into him and against the wall, in the very position Colt had you earlier. But now the chances of escape seem slim to zero. 

His slender fingers ghost over your jaw. 

“Shouldn’t you be with Pieck right now?” You hate the way you sound, reminded of all the movies written by men with overly jealous and bitchy female characters. 

His thumb swipes over your parted lips, “No, I’d rather be much with my favorite girl.”

You hate this, Hate how your heart swims up. Hate the amusement laced in his low voice. Hate how desperately you want to believe him. 

“That shut you up huh?” He chuckles. 

There’s a rude remark on the tip of your tongue that he swallows with a kiss. You kiss back. Teeth against teeth, mouth against mouth, his tongue dominating yours. 

When it’s time to breathe, he swiftly unzips his jacket and places it around your shoulders. You’re too shocked by the gesture to respond properly. You mutter out a thanks, flustered and flushed. 

His hands grope your inner thighs, thumb digging into the supple flesh. Slowly he whispers into your ear, “Let’s go back to mine.” 

[artemisrogers]

Burned James Hetfield x reader

I almost watched James become a human chip almost four weeks ago. I sat on the couch as he put some ointments on his burns. I'm lucky he made it out alive. I just hate how angry the burns look. How he had to wear a special glove over his hand to protect it. I felt his pain in a sense but he seemed unbothered by it now compared to when it first happened and all I could hear was his yells of pain. See his skin comming up like fucking bacon.

"Shit! Hey um Y/N can you hand me that tub on the ground my dumbass dropped it."

"Oh yeah um here James." I said.

My brain had an impulse and I almost smacked myself to shut it up. Before I could scold myself I kissed his elbow right on the burn where he didn't put ointment yet and blushed. James was caught off guard a little bit then chuckled softly.

"Jesus I'm sorry for doing that. I feel your pain and I feel bad so thought kissing it would help like an idiot." I said. I didn't expect James to smile at me.

"I don't mind it actually was kinda cute and comforting." James said a soft smile on his face.

Feeling a little brave I kissed his lower forearm and heard him groan softly his body relaxing. I trailed kisses all along his burned arm and hand. I felt his nonburned arm move to squeeze my left asscheek, making me gasp out of surprise. I looked up and saw his eyes were bright blue like ice compared to their normal ocean blue.

"Keep kissing me like that and I'm not responsible for my next actions."

I kissed his burn again hearing another groan from him.

"Fuck Y/N. You're asking for it now, come here princess." James said pulling me into his lap and kissing me passionately.

My heart leapt into my chest from both excitement and surprise. Usually James puts on this macho man bravo he uses for stage and hates showing emotions. But right now his eyes tell me he's comfortable and that he feels safe with me. I also noticed the desire in his eyes when he put his face in the crook of my neck catching my scent.

"God you smell good. I've been wanting to be like this with you for a long time Y/N."

"Wait really?"

"Oh don't act surprised now. I've fallen for you since the day I met you. I waited for you to say or do something." James confessed his face red from blushing.

I felt him cup my cheek and pull me in for a kiss this time on his lips. I melted and a soft moan escaped me as we deepened the kiss. The taste of stale beer and his natural sweetness mingled in my mouth as his tongue slipped into my mouth. I put my hands on his chest feeling the muscles tense. James broke the kiss growling softly as he picked me up and put me on the couch.

He kneels down spreading my legs open. My skirt got pushed up as I lifted my hips my panties soaked with arousal. I heard him groan his fingers rub over the damp fabric causing me to whimper softly. He looked back up at me as if he was asking for permission. I nod and felt his fingers hook into the waistband of my panties and a ripping sound as my panties got ripped off my body.

"Fuck your soaking wet. Is this what you wanted? For me to touch you? Play with your pussy? Fuck you until you can't walk? I can make you feel so good princess." James teased his voice husky with lust.

God I needed him so fucking bad right now!

As if he could read my mind I watched him lower his head blowing on my wet slit, making me gasp softly. That's when he started to eat me out like a starved man softly groaning and growling. I moaned and my hands tangled in his long blonde hair. Fuck he was very good for a rockstar. James pushed his tounge inside my hole and tounge fucked me lapping up my juices. Sucking my clit I felt my orgasm approaching already.

"Not yet you don't get to cum until I feel you've earned it."

"James! Ah please! Mmm fuck! Fu-ck!"

As my moans got louder I watched James stand up wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes were feral like a wolf. Once he pulled his pants down he pulled down his boxers just enough for his hard cock to come out the tip leaking precum.

"Bed over I'm gonna make you feel really good now. That's it, that perfect ass and pink pussy. Fuck you make so hard!" James said stroking himself a few times.

I bent over the arm of the couch as James spread my legs open. Grabbing a fistful of my hair pulling my hair back, he lined his dick up with my pussy rubbing the tip in my juices. I felt him slam into me bottoming out as a moan escapes him.

"Fuck so tight! Mmph!"

James pounds into me making me a moaning mess. Fuck he was big and he felt so good. No wonder everyone wants to fuck this man. He shifted me putting my legs on his shoulders as he hits my g-spot harder and deeper. I felt my orgasm hit me hard and him groan as my walls convulsed around him. He continues to ride out my orgasm his breathing labored as he gets closer to his own release.

"Mmph! Fuck yes! Gonna fill this tight little pussy up with my load. You gonna be a good girl and take it all? Ngh! Fuck!" James said between grunts and groans.

A few hard thrusts later he let out a load groan. His hot cum fills up my pussy. He goes onto his elbows his orgasm finished his dick softening inside me. I stole a kiss from him as we both bathed in the afterglow of our passionate sex. I looked at him as he pulled out and scooped me into his arms to spoon me.

"Feel good princess?"

"Very. You?"

"Never better."

[dyke-diana]

.

[stefisdoingthings]

silence

also this is from Wolfwood's POV (in case it isn't clear) i have 0 normal thoughts (every song ever is VW)

[scarlettcryptid]

someone's probably already pointed this out already, but shigaraki said the same thing that bakugo said to deku before he was taken by the league:

ch. 82 bakugo: 来んな

ch. 416 shigaraki: 来るなあ

(don't come/stay back/stay away)

[piningpercussionist]

Interest checking somethin' real quick!

*I couldn't think of a better way to word that, but I mean like. If I only opened comissions for stages sketches through flats, but you wanted shading, or something. Or if I end up deciding certain kinds of commissions won't work for me and have to put up restrictions.

The second I'm able I'm probably going to be opening them, so I'm just kinda feeling out where interest lies! I don't know how I'd be pricing things just yet, honestly? My brain seems kinda caught on "$5 for a quick sketch is a good starting point" but we'll see what happens, since I'm uncertain what the reasonable price escalation from there is to me- also, I have a tendency to go overboard on my sketches naturally, so. We'll See.

Another thing that'll probably be coming is a kofi for tips and requests! But do keep in mind that I just specified requests and not commissions- they'd be in no way guaranteed, I'd just feel a little more pressured on account of your kindness lol

[masked-puppetmaster]

no cos not to be personal on main but I got the stuff from the fools gold kickstarter a few days ago and I’ve been going thru the book & like . I’ve been dealing lately with the fact that there’s a solid suspicion (from both friends & my therapist) that I may be bipolar which has been causing a lot of anxiety in me as of late and when I started reading the fools gold campaign setting & read the bit abt dingo being bipolar and having been struggling w that when playing sips . Straight up cried in the Barnes and noble I hope dingo knows how important and comforting it was to me it was that she mentioned that

[stranger-awakening]

can i ask y'all something??? if your best friend stopped talking you for weeks and weeks at a time and the few messages you did get from them were just 'sorry things suck i'll be back soon' before disappearing again without any indication of what was wrong or how you can help and this happened consistently and there was nothing you could do about it how long would it take you to lose your mind??? a few weeks??? a few months??? would you feel justified to admit that you were by august???

[mizzfizz]

*knocks on door* i hear it’s someone’s BIRTHDAY TODAY???

lea you absolute angel. i am sending you a trillion kisses thru my screen, HAPPY TWENTIETH!! 🍰 🎉 🥳

thank you for being such a ray of sunshine. you are a SUPER talented writer, just the kindest human, have the most excellent taste in men ever (we are so totally holding hands and jumping up and down), and i am SOOOOO GRATEFUL i got to meet you this year!! i hope 20 brings you nothing less than your wildest dreams and all the peace and joy in the world 🫂 ❤️

i love you TONS N TONS N TONS!!! i hope you have the bestest day ever 🫶 MMWAH!! <333

VIVIIIIII 🥺🥺 you are so fucking sweet i am SOBBINGGG!!! i am super grateful to have met YOU this year :,3 everytime i see you on my dash or get a little message from you, you just MAKE MY DAYY <33

THANK YEW SO SO SOOO MUCH LOVEBUG i love you SOSOSO MUCH!! reading this made my heart melt 🥺🥺

MWAHH MWAH GIVING YEW ALL THE KISSES BACK 💗

[cobra-creampuff]

like literally every time anya talks about money she is 100000% quoting economics magazine or whatever. and it's not like she didn't fucking hear xander's verse in the musical about being insecure that he'll never make enough money for her, that number wasn't like "standing" where buffy was having a montage during and therefore wasn't cognizant of it. this conflict is just so fucking stupid. they know they need to talk. they know what they need to talk about. they have reassuring answers to give to each other that they don't even have to work for. the song brought the topic up for them. anya could have lived or at least got a worthy death if only joss whedon would've gone to marriage counseling.

[juniperhillpatient]

no one understands how hard it can be for me to relax like I think my body & brain would rather die than relax i forced myself to put away my laptop & it wasn’t easy but I did I absolutely forced myself to put it up & I put on a video essay to sit back in bed & relax to but I disagree with everything this guy is saying so I can’t relax I’m going insane

[cinnabeat]

i love how kh games are just sometimes psychological horrors

[baejax-the-great]

God I'm still not over people bitching about fanfic being in the tags.

When I first tried to dip my toes into fandom, a thing I knew almost nothing about, I typed "mass effect" into the search bar. What I got was image after image of 3D renderings of asari with phalluses having group sex (and I think Miranda was there sometimes, too). Was this what I was looking for? Absolutely not. Were these images incorrectly tagged? Nope. Did I want to see them? Not really. Was it the fault of the artists that I saw them? Nope.

That's just the nature of searching for shit online, especially such a half-functional website like Tumblr. It's a fucking grab bag of whatever the fuck your fellow humans are up to at any given time.

[daz4i]

you ever met a guy so dumb and talentless he couldn't even cut himself right?

[vexx-the-egg]

Ah yes Brand new japanese phone that you....."Thrifted"

[kingofdandelions]

My yt animatics phase: IT IS I, THE GOD WHOM YOU ABANDONED AND TRIED TO KILL AND I HAVE RISEN FROM THE ASHES LIKE A PHOENIX TO DO NOTHING BUT HAUNT YOUR MIND AND HYPNOTISE YOUR SOUL!!! BOW BEFORE MY ALMIGHTY GRIP ON YOUR MIND LEST I EXPLODE YOUR PANCAKES WITH MY MIND (your fuckings pancakes)

Me: it's three am. Pls let me sleep