#i will almost certainly never revise this at all

[battywitch]

Making myself cry and feel horribly nauseous with this story 🥲✌️

[peachdues]

GIYUU TOMIOKA NSFW HEADCANONS

I might revise Rengoku's after this one, but for now, enjoy my horny HCs for our favorite emotionally-constipated Pillar!

CW: explicit sexual content • MDNI • creampies • mild corruption kink • mean dom!Giyuu and whimpering sub!Giyuu

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES

Giyuu has a very faint happy trail that begins right below his navel; but don’t be fooled — it leads to an absolute jungle below his belt 

If it bothers you, he will trim it down, but if you don’t say anything, he’ll just leave it. Truthfully, Giyuu is a big fan of grinding into you (he LOVES the mess you make against his groin), so the friction his hair helps create against your clit is certainly worth the stray pube that may find its way into your mouth from time to time while he fucks your throat. 

Onto his dick:

Listen

I know we all know the truth about quiet boys — and Giyuu is so very quiet 

He’s hung like a mf horse

He’s not particularly girthy (though don’t get me wrong — he’s got well enough to satisfy), but he is long. Even flaccid, it swings between his legs. He’s about 7.5-8 inches when hard, and it sticks straight out. It’s slightly pink in color, and he has a very pretty tip that you just love to suckle on (he whimpers when you do). He has one prominent vein on the underside of his cock, and if you run your tongue against it, he WILL be shooting his load onto your face/down your throat. 

As for his cum, I envision it to be a bit on the thinner side in consistency, slightly sweet, and he cums a LOT. He usually rolls his balls around while he’s cumming to make sure he gets it all out --and into you.

FOREPLAY

Giyuu is admittedly not as experienced with foreplay at first, but he’s committed to making you feel good, so, he’s going to learn and he’s going to learn fast. 

I HC that he has really long, delicate fingers and the man knows how to put them to WORK.

You see, Giyuu has never been one to intentionally push another person’s buttons (always doing so accidentally), but with you???

Oh baby, those fingers are searching to press every one of yours. 

Truthfully, you could fuck yourself on his hand all day and you’d be satisfied (and in fact, you do). He found your g-spot completely on accident while fingering you, simply by curling his fingers. 

Giyuu also enjoys going down on you, because he’s fascinated at the way you fall apart beneath his tongue.

He takes his time exploring your core, curious as to what makes you gasp and writhe, as well as what makes you moan and scream.

The first time you cum in his mouth, you have to quite literally pull him off you, because that first taste unleashed a beast within him and he will not stop licking and sucking and fucking you with his tongue until you’re sobbing with overstimulation 

HOW HE FUCKS YOU

Whether he's a sub or a dom really depends on his mood. If he's returning from a mission, he wants to be taken care of (read: he wants you to ride him until he goes cross-eyed). But if it's you returning, be prepared for him to break furniture with how hard he's fucking you -- as if you need to be reminded of who's waiting for you to return home.

When Giyuu subs...

WHIMPERER MAX 5000

I mean it’s almost pathetic how needy this man gets for you while you’re on top, bouncing along the thick length of him like your life depends on it 

Expect to have some bruises on your hips from how hard he’s gripping you. Eventually, he gets so desperate that he’s lifting you up and down his cock too, thrusting helplessly up into you without rhythm. He’s just desperately chasing his own release, too drunk at the way your dripping heat constricts around him to the point that he sees stars.

He’s begging you to let him cum, and truthfully, you almost feel bad that you keep slowing down, choosing to rock slowly against him instead of continuing the relentless push and pull of your hips that you know gets him panting. Almost. 

When Giyuu doms, however...

When he’s on top though, get ready. Giyuu is relentless and can get downright mean. 

Honestly, you shouldn't be surprised. He spends so much time bottling up his emotions that they're bound to explode out of him at some point. Lucky for you that they happen to be exploding out of him and into you, with the way he has you bent over like his own personal cum dump as he ruthlessly takes out every pint of frustration he's kept locked up on your poor, aching cunt.

He’s pulling your hair, running his nails down your skin, and forcing you to say whose name is forever painted on your walls as his drips from your folds.  He’s particularly fond of shoving your head down against the futon as he takes you roughly from behind. He’s not satisfied until you’re crying. 

Oh and if you’ve been teasing him while out in public (particularly if you’re in the Corps)?? RIP to your pussy bc he’s about to slay it.

Not many people were aware of your relationship with the Water Pillar, but that was out of mutual agreement between you both. However, a few of your comrades had noticed a rather telling mark on your throat while you were being treated for a wound, and while you were able to avoid confessing the identity of your lover, you hadn’t been able to skirt the fact that you, indeed, had one. 

“What was it like?” A fellow Kinoe named Ayane asked you, a blush spreading across her cheeks. 

You could hardly meet her eyes as you mumbled, “It was nice.”

If you’d known the Water Pillar had been lurking nearby, ears carefully listening for your response, you perhaps would have been a little more careful with your words — but truthfully, you were flustered and a tad embarrassed, and so you’d answered her rather dismissively. 

Giyuu, it appeared, hadn’t been amused by your assessment; not when his hand had shot out from the dark cover of the trees to snag around your wrist, yanking you into the shadows. 

“Tell me, Y/N,” he growled in your ear, pressing you harder against the bark of the tree as he drove into you. “Does this feel-fucking-nice?” He punctuated the last three words with corresponding, pointed, sharp thrusts.

Your hands shot out to grip the rough wood to steady yourself as you whimpered, though the sound was drowned out by that of Giyuu’s hips slapping forcefully into your backside as he pumped into you with vigor. 

The Water Pillar’s teeth sank into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, the sting serving as your warning. “I asked you a question.” 

“Giyuu — ah — someone is going to see us,” You cried, though your protests were weakened by the way your hips ground back against him, desperate for release. 

Giyuu’s hand wound around your middle and dipped down to between your legs, skilled fingers circling your aching clit. “Not if you keep quiet and come when I say.”

His other hand had to clap around your mouth as his hips drilled into you, his fingers sliding between your lips to choke off the whine of his name as your cunt began to seize around him, begging to be filled by his cum, desperate to feel it leaking out of you as he sent you on your way. 

“I’ll show you fuckin’ nice,” he promised, and the Water Pillar wrenched you away from the base of the tree to bend you over before him. 

KINK-O-CLOCK

hear me out: I think this man has a virginity kink 

like he wants to TAKE your virginity 

If you’re not a virgin, dw, he’s still obsessed with you 

this is just like an added bonus for him — the idea that he’s the one who’s going to turn you into a whimpering, crying mess, that you’ll fall apart around his cock gets him incredibly excited. Especially because he plans on being the only man to touch you like this. It might translate into a greater corruption kink, but it goes both ways — he loves the idea of reducing you to a lustful, needy mess just as much as he loves the fact you do the same thing to him

big-time praise kink — he loves hearing you sing his praises, even if he gets extremely shy while you do it. He so rarely hears any form of praise or gratitude, so when you give it to him (both in bed and out of it), it means the world to him 

EDGING — especially if he’s been away for an extended period of time. You’re overjoyed when he comes home, but you’re also steadily preparing yourself for a long-ass night. Giyuu isn’t one to rush things already, but if it’s been a week or so since he’s last been inside of you, you better prepare yourself for a loooooonnng night ahead of you. He will bring you right up to the cusp of your orgasm before pulling off/out/removing himself, leaving you to clench around nothing. He will do this several times before finally, finally, letting you cum. 

creampies on creampies on creampies

Tbh he could give Sanemi a run for his money on this one (and his job at the Hostess donut filling plant)

The man is obsessed with his cum being in you. He’s not satisfied until it’s leaking out of you, and you’re laying on your back, knees against your chest, unable to do anything but hum in contentment because you’re so full of him. He will watch it trickle out of you, and then shove his still-hard cock right back in to give you one more load because fuck you look so sexy when you’re leaking him.  

bestie how do you think babies are made 

But if he’s not cumming inside of you, he is fascinated with cumming on your tits/face. The sight of his pearly seed covering your skin as you swipe your fingers through it, happily licking it from your hands is 100% guaranteed to make him rock-hard again

He always needs to be touching you in some way, but he especially loves holding onto your waist while plunging deep into you. It doesn’t matter if he’s on the bottom or the top — he just needs to hold you.

[callme-holly]

if you're still doing requests, can you do headcanons for how each member of the gang (separate) would react to their s/o pranking them with the monthly shed thing?Please and thank you!

MONTHLY SHED PRANK

in which the reader pulls the "monthly shed" prank on the gang and they fall for it. [fem!reader x the outsiders]

a/n: i wanted to try a different format to what I usually do - don't know if I like or not but, you know. I have 10 mins before i have to go back to revision so sorry if these are a little but crap. inbox is still open for requests!!

Darry Curtis - 

When you tell him, he is so concerned

He just stares at you, eyes wide, jaw practically on the floor

He immediately starts asking if you’re okay and if you need anything 

Will 100% fall for it

He immediately goes to Sodapop and asks if it’s true because if anyone knows about girls, it the middle Curtis brother

When Soda is just as confused as Darry, he will probably finally catch on 

He was very worried for you though <33

Sodapop Curtis - 

He’s so sweet about it and will genuinely believe you

He’ll sit on the counter and watch as you “peel your skin” while asking as many questions as possible

“So are girls like lizards?” 

You bet he’s bringing it up at dinner and when he does, Darry and Pony just stare at you with confusion

Soda will keep on eating as if he’s just dropped the most casual news ever

In the end, when he doesn’t catch on to the joke, you’ll probably have to tell him the truth

He’ll be very confused, and will most likely continue to believe that you shed your skin every month

Ponyboy Curtis - 

When he catches you “peeling your skin” he’s actually horrified

Like he isn’t disgusted, not at all, but why the hell is all your skin peeling off and should he get Darry to drive you to the hospital

He won’t really say much on the topic, but will definitely ask his science teacher next time he has class

His teacher gives him the most baffled expression ever and he immediately catches on 

He’s so embarrassed when he gets home 

He doesn’t mention it to anyone, not even to you, and if it ever gets brought up, he’s changing the topic immediately

Johnny Cade - 

Oh, Johnny

He is so worried when you tell him that your skin peels every month

He gets a little concerned that his skin might peel too

He’ll watch from a safe distance when you “shed your skin” 

The next time he sees Dallas, he questions it and his buddy just laughs in his face and asks if he feeling okay

He probably won't catch onto the joke until you tell him

Johnny isn’t stupid, but he will almost certainly believe anything you tell him so when you break the news to him and tell him that you were only kidding, he’s very relieved

Dallas Winston - 

He’s so disgusted and probably won't come anywhere near you

Genuinely very confused and won’t believe you at first

“I aint seen no other girl do that, man”

After you “peel your skin” in front of him though 

He is out of that door faster than you can blink

He goes to the gang and he’s just horrified 

Darry will probably be the one to break the truth to him 

He’d be fuming and he’d probably give you the silent treatment until you apologise to him (he’s stubborn and childish like that) 

Was secretly a tiny bit concerned about you but he’d never admit it

Steve Randle - 

Now this is tricky

Steve would probably be concerned and a little freaked out

He’d ask to make sure you’re okay and if you’re hurt at all every few minutes 

He genuinely just really cares about you <33 

However, that’s not to say he isn’t incredibly freaked out

You’re literally shedding your skin in his bathroom and acting as if it’s a normal thing

In the end you’d probably feel bad and you’d have to break the truth to him

He’s still a little confused but he just sort of forgets about the whole thing the next day

Two-Bit Mathews - 

I won’t lie; he’ll find it funny as hell

He’d take every chance he can get to crack a joke about you “shedding your skin”

Much like Soda, he’ll sit and watch you before asking if you’re a snake

“So, does that mean women are reptiles?” // “No, Two…” 

I can’t see him being disgusted by it and it probably wouldn’t take all that long for him to catch on

Overall, he finds the whole thing hilarious and will probably keep making lizard jokes to you for the next week or so

[sophieinwonderland]

Science, and The Lie of Certainty

When you were a child, you probably learned in school what a dinosaur was. You probably learned about their habitats. You probably have seen their pictures in your textbooks.

Not to mention seeing them in movies like Jurassic Park, The Land Before Time, The Good Dinosaur, etc.

Except thinking about what dinosaurs look like, you probably realize that they have changed. Our understanding of what they most likely look like has changed. And in the media that we consume, the dinosaurs look differently today than they did 30 years ago.

Even in media, the dinosaurs depicted in The Good Dinosaur look different from what we saw in Jurassic Park.

As children, you were probably certain about what dinosaurs look like. They're in books, after all!

Maybe you still feel a certainty today. Maybe you think that the new more hairy and feathery dinosaurs that we would see in modern images are what they actually look like and this is going to stay the same and never change.

So allow me to inform you that, unfortunately, your certainty is misplaced.

The truth is, even as much as we know about dinosaurs today, we will probably never know exactly what they looked like. There are some things that just don't fossilize and won't be preserved.

We can guess at their habitats, at their behavior, and scientists can get a whole lot right.

But we will probably never have textbooks that will 100% portray what a dinosaur looked like.

And this is pretty sad to me. Because I like to know the answers to questions. I want to understand the natural world as much as possible. I would love to be able to see what a dinosaur actually looked like, be able to observe one up close... Preferably without getting eaten.

But some things just aren't possible.

There is no fault in admitting that.

But there is fault in clinging to a present idea of what a dinosaur looks like.

To pretend like science has all of the answers. That the popular theories about what dinosaur behavior might have been like is 100% confirmed. When in reality, there's a good chance that our understanding of them might change dramatically in the next 20 years, 50 years, and 100 years. And even a century later, we still won't be able to know everything.

There's a fantastic paleoart book you may have heard of called All Yesterdays that presents alternatives for how dinosaurs may have looked based on recent findings and some creative liberties in some cases.

One example of this is the Leaellynasaura. This is what this dinosaur would have looked like according to Wikipedia:

All Yesterdays presents an alternative possibility though based on the same skeleton.

This is dramatically different from what we see in the first image. But they give pretty solid reasoning for these liberties.

As seen before with Hypsilophodon, many small plant-eating dinosaurs will have their popular images greatly revised thanks to new discoveries of social behaviour and integument. Instead of looking like two-legged iguanas, these animals will have to be re-imagined with the extra possibilities offered by furry bodies and communal living habits. Here is one more small ornithischian re-interpretation, this time featuring Leaellynasaura. This dinosaur was discovered in Australia, where it lived during Early Cretaceous times, about one hundred and ten million years ago. At that time, Australia was located close to the Earth's geographic south pole. Although its climate was possibly not as cold as today's Antarctic, the axial tilt of our planet meant that Cretaceous Australia did not receive direct sunlight for long periods of time, and almost certainly experienced sub-zero temperatures. Aside from being a polar dinosaur, Leaellynasaura was also extraordinary for its immensely long tail, which was almost three times as long as its body. Nobody knows why Leaellynasaura had such a long tail, or what it used it for. Theories range from the tail being used as a climbing aid, a sexual and social display feature, or a long, shaggy “scarf” that the dinosaur wrapped around itself as protection from the cold. It has even been suggested that the tail aided the animal in swimming! Drawing on these facts, we reconstructed Leaellynasaura as a rotund furball that scurried peacefully about in the polar forests of Australia's past. We imagined its long tail as a thin, signalling "flagpole" that helped it identify and keep close to members of its herd. No doubt some people will find this reconstruction preposterous, and perhaps they will be right. However, we felt that not enough dinosaurs were reconstructed as "cute" beasts, whereas in nature, polar animals can look quite pulchritudinous under layers of fat, muscle, fur and other insulation.

Later on in the book is a section entitled All Todays which, to really drive the points home about how little we understand about how dinosaurs may have looked, tries to imagine how future paleo-artists might interpret creatures who exist today based on the same errors we've made.

For example, going with the theme of how fat doesn't fossilize, someone from the future might make this sort of reconstruction of a common modern animal:

Alternatively, perhaps swans could be reconstructed as preadory wingless monsters.

And for the faults of assuming all dinosaurs were scaly in the past, it could be equally dangerous to assume that now that we've discovered some with fur or feathers that we should extrapolate to all dinosaurs.

Such extrapolations could lead to fallacious assumptions, like how a future paleontologist might assume that because rats had fur, the same must be true for iguanas.

There are so many more examples in this book that I would love to share and discuss because it's just fantastic.

But I have to end this post at some point.

So let me just bring this back to the main point. Which is that we know very little. The more you learn, the more you realize how little we actually know for certain.

Certainty of science is often a lie.

As true as this is about paleontology, it's true of a lot of other fields too. It's true of psychology, of history, of neuroscience, of biology, of astronomy. While there is a lot that we do know, there's a lot more that just ends up being our best guesses.

And that's okay.

It's okay to accept that we still have so much more to learn about the world around us.

This is something that should be embraced.

There is safety in the comfort of the lie of certainty. But it is a lie. It's a cozy blanket that was weaved around us when we were children and learning about the world, convincing us that we had all the answers when we don't by covering our heads to the larger world outside the blanket.

And while pulling off that blanket and realizing that we don't know everything is scary, we NEED to pull it off to be able to acknowledge that we have room to learn and grow.

We need to be able to proudly say, "I don't know, and that's okay because it means I have more to learn!"

So please keep learning and keep questioning everything!

[nyctoaerah]

Can u please post the other parts of Wish Granted?:( i can't open the links for some reasons and it says that I don't have the access to read it or something. I'm really hooked, but I'm sorry for bothering

-❤️‍🩹

WISH GRANTED: CH 2 & 3.

⋆♱⋆SYPNOSIS: In which, Eyeless jacks develops an infatuation with a grade A detective and ends up granting her wishes in the most twisted way.

⋆♱⋆WARNINGS: Gore, Mutilation, Mentions of Torture, Jack Being creepy.

⋆♱⋆PAIRINGS: Yandere! Eyeless Jack x Fem! Detective! Reader

⋆♱⋆PREV

⋆♱⋆NOTE: Hey pookie, idrk why it isn’t working for you because it’s working for me properly:( maybe you should restart your pc/phone? Or maybe it’s on your internet? I’ll try checking on the links later and revise them. But yeah, dw, it’s not a bother, i don’t mind it anyways. I’ll just post the other parts later<3.

Ps; Hearts and reblogs are greatly appreciated!<3

⋆♱⋆MASTERLIST

AS SOON AS THOSE words reached your ears, a chill crept down your spine causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand at attention. Your heart dropped into your stomach, the thundering rhythm filling your ears drowning out all other sound. The blood seemed to freeze in your veins as icicles of dread rapidly spreads throughout your limbs, numbing you from head to toe. Your breathing became shallow and you were wide-eyed and unblinking, your pupils dilating until only a thin ring of iris remained,

That certainly wasn’t a news that you wanted to hear.

your grip on the phone faltered and it slipped from your trembling hands, crashing heavily onto the ground as your breath hitched in your throat.

“Your boyfriend and best friend were found dead.”

Those words kept repeating in your mind, the weight of those words bore down on you, sending an icy shiver cascading down your spine. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, leaving you unable to discern what you truly felt. Your breath caught in your throat, threatening to suffocate you as dizziness washed over you, threatening to pull you into unconsciousness.

‘But i was just with them a few hours ago...’

It hurts so much, it felt like your heart strings are about to break.

It was a tumultuous mix of fury, grief, betrayal, heartbreak, and a profound sense of self-pity that overwhelmed your senses. This day had already been marked by a series of unfortunate events, beginning with the painful revelation of your boyfriend’s infidelity and culminating in the relvelation that your closest confidant had been a traitor all along.

The news of their deaths hit like a tidal wave, crashing into the already shattered pieces of your heart.

You stumbled back, collapsing onto the closest piece of furniture that hadn’t been destroyed in your fit of rage. Your body shook with tremors, the weight of grief becoming almost too much to bear. Regret seeped into your veins, staining your conscience with a haunting question: Could you have prevented this?

As your mind raced, memories of your boyfriend and best friend flooded back. The joyous moments you had shared, the laughter, the support – all now overshadowed by the painful truth of their betrayal. How had you been so blind? Anger surged through you, sparked by the overwhelming hurt, as you cursed their names under your breath.

But amidst the anger, a profound sadness settled in, casting a bleak shadow over your soul. You mourned not only the loss of their lives but also the friendships and the love that was once so pure. The realization that you would never hear their voices again, never feel their warm embrace, tore through you like a serrated knife.

You needed to do something.

with trembling hands, you reluctantly reached for your phone, only to discover a crack on its screen. It must have happened when you dropped it. A heavy sigh escaped your lips. Your throat was dry and your eyes were bloodshot due to how much you've cried.

Using your shaky fingers, you unlocked your phone and wiped the moisture off the screen with your hands. As you opened it, a flood of notifications greeted you, including messages from Earl, Jhenicca, and others. Slowly, you navigated to your contacts and dialed the headquarters. They answered promptly, causing you to release a shaky breath.

“What happened?” you inquired, your voice raspy from the lack of moist and use.

“Lieutenant, how are you holding up?” came the concerned voice on the other end of the line.

You let out a heavy sigh. Of course, you were far from okay. The pain of heartbreak still lingered, threatening to tear your emotions apart. But you were determined not to let your personal turmoil interfere with your duty. Despite their betrayals, your love for your boyfriend and best friend remained, and you couldn't bear the thought of them meeting such a gruesome end.

“I’ll manage, don't worry about me,” you replied, trying to sound composed.

“Information please,”

You requested.

“We discovered Lieutenant Earl and Detective Jhenicca’s bodies near the Forest,” they informed you, their words hitting you like a blow.

“What do you mean at the forrest?”

you exclaimed, your voice tinged with shock as you processed the information.

“I was just with them at the station just a few hours ago, they would never go to a forrest.” you stated, your brows furrowing in confusion. The image of that encounter still haunted your mind, causing your voice to falter slightly.

“Jhenicca despises forests,” you muttered, your fingers tightly gripping your phone. The situation was becoming more puzzling by the minute.

“That’s the very mystery we’re trying to unravel, Lieutenant,” they explained. “That’s why headquarters is requesting your presence.”

You let out a snort.

Of course, they would want you there.

As one of the last people to see them, you were likely the prime suspect in their disappearance.

“Interrogation,” you stated, weariness evident in your voice.

“Yes, Lieutenant, they want to interrogate you,” they replied.

You couldn't help but release a heavy sigh, feeling drained.

 “I’ll make my way there later,” you mumbled, the exhaustion weighing on your words.

“How did they... die?”

You asked slowly.

“We believed that the cause of death is by blood loss.”

“They got mutilated, all of their fingers in both hands and feet was removed, and  they were skinned alive, moreover, their bodies were also covered in honey and other things and bees were swarming over them, and so does other bugs, that were probably eating them slowly.”

The image of their mutilated and dismembered corpses sent a shiver down your spine.

Torture.

“So they got tortured first before dying then...”

You mumbled, realizing that they got a painful death and it is indeed a murder.

“We believe so,”

You let out a sigh.

“Have their bodies been taken for autopsy?” you managed to ask, your fingers involuntarily curling up in distress.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” the voice on the other end confirmed.

“Forensics are currently examining the bodies at the morgue. We’ll let you know as soon as we have any updates.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. It was essential to stay focused and maintain your composure despite the heart-wrenching news. These investigations required a clear mind, and your team relied on you for guidance.

“Thank you,” you replied.

“Please keep me informed of any new findings.”

“We will,”

they assured you.

“And remember, you aren’t alone in this. We’re here for you, Lieutenant.”

You smiled a little, even though they couldn’t see you, Their support was essential, but there was still a part of you that felt isolated, grappling with the weight of your emotions. You had loved and trusted both Earl and Jhenicca, and their betrayal and death had shattered your world.

As you hung up the phone, you closed your eyes, trying to push away the painful memories and focus on the tasks ahead. The investigation couldn’t wait, and justice needed to be served.

And suddenly, out of nowhere, you felt a wave of tension wash over you, it felt as if someone is watching you right now.

Now that you weren’t bawling your eyes out and not having a breakdown anymore, you noticed this strangeness.

Your brows creased as you opened your eyes and scanned your surroundings, checking left and right for any signs of an intruder.

But there was no one in sight. It had been three long months since you first sensed the eerie feeling of being watched, but the demands of work and the constant presence of either Earl or Jhenicca by your side had distracted you from paying it much attention. However, now that you found yourself alone, the unsettling sensation began to gnaw at your thoughts.

And then, out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of your window slightly ajar. Your brow furrowed in confusion as you struggled to recall if you had ever opened it. Opening the window was not a regular occurrence for you; in fact, you rarely ever did.

“I don’t recall opening my window,” you muttered to yourself, as you stood up, wobbling a bit as you walked towards the window to investigate.

but before you could investigate further, a sharp pain shot through your foot. You looked down to find the cause, only to see an assortment of glass shards scattered across the floor—probably from the vases and other things you had threw on the ground. You must have accidentally stepped on the broken glass, and warm blood began to trickle from the wound.

This really is such a bad day.

Suppressing a curse, you quickly hobbled over to your bathroom to tend to the injury,  As you made your way towards the bathroom, an overpowering stench assaulted your senses. It was an amalgamation of metallic notes, mingled with a sickeningly familiar odor reminiscent of raw flesh, like the scent that lingers at a butcher shop. It was a scent you had encountered many times before, while investigating crime scenes. But the difference is, it wasn’t a crime scene. It was your own bathroom.

Your brow furrowed in confusion as you cautiously pushed open the door, the repulsive smell growing even stronger.

At first glance, everything appeared normal. But when your eyes traveled upwards, a blood-curdling scream escaped your lips.

Multiple human fingers were nailed and plastered in the walls like some sort of furniture, both fingers from the hands and toes, you can see the bones under them as blood dripped from them.

they were forming a word, three fingers were on a shape of the letter ‘W’, one for the letter ‘I’, five for the letter ‘S’, Three for the letter ‘H’, five for the letter ‘G’, five for the letter ‘R’, six for the letter ‘A’ and ‘N’ Two for ‘T’, four for ‘E’, and with the last letter being ‘D’, which had three fingers on them. 37 fingers, were nailed in your walls, with the words being....

𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃.

...

...

You were utterly shocked, repulsed, scared, evident from the way your eyes were protruding out of their sockets.

You instinctively recoiled by taking a swift step backwards while simultaneously covering your mouth with your hand in disbelief.   The intensity of the sight before you was so overwhelming that your stomach twisted and turned, disturbed by both the visual and olfactory aspects of the situation.

Your gaze shifted anxiously from each finger that protruded from the walls, their bloodied presence revealing the exposed phalangeal bones, their hues tainted by the crimson fluid. Overwhelmed with revulsion, your head whirled in a nauseating manner, unable to tolerate the repugnance before you.

As the sensation of vomit surged uncontrollably, you swiftly clasped your abdomen, succumbing to its intensity and disgorging the contents of your stomach.  

As you expelled the contents of your stomach, the regurgitated food landed repulsively on the ground.   Simultaneously, you struggled to catch your breath, your throat and esophagus ablaze from the corrosive stomach acid that accompanied the vomiting. Overwhelmed by a burning sensation, you instinctively clutched at your chest in despair, desperately gasping for air.

This reaction was unprecedented, as these circumstances were nothing compared to the gruesome crime scenes you had encountered before.   However, the sight that now haunted you was beyond horrifying—The scenes on the crime scene might be more brutal and horrifying in the perspective of others, but fuck, this was more horrifying in your point of view.

Fingers were grotesquely displayed upon your walls, gruesomely nailed in place. Both severed fingers from hands and feet were arranged in this macabre exhibit, leaving you utterly revolted.

As you breathed heavily, your lungs felt burdened and your chest throbbed painfully. Gradually lifting your gaze, saliva slowly trickled from your mouth, intermingled with traces of vomit that had inadvertently stained your clothes. The previous cut on your foot, which once caused you considerable discomfort, seemed inconsequential compared to the searing pain originating from your bruised esophagus.

As you carefully observed the fingers, There was a significant change in the size of your pupils—It shrunk down in shock. Some of the fingers had an unmistakable feminine appearance, while others displayed a more masculine quality. The sight of these fingers caused a sharp, involuntary reflex as you instinctively averted your eyes, overwhelmed by a sensation that made you cringe in discomfort—You felt as if you were going to vomit once again.

“Come on, breathe, [Name]...”

You told yourself.

The offensive stench of severed fingers combined with the repugnant odor of your vomit further intensified your disgust, while your chest continued to burn fiercely.

“Calm the fuck down, [Name].. calm down... breathe..”

You urged yourself to regain composure, but despite your efforts, you couldn’t manage to achieve it.   The intensity of your emotions caused an overwhelming surge of hot tears that pooled in your mouth, leaving you surprised that you still had the capacity to cry given the torrent of tears you had shed upon discovering your boyfriend’s infidelity.

The bitter taste of regurgitated stomach acid lingered in your throat, a distressing reminder of the moment when you couldn’t contain the contents of your stomach any longer, resulting in a forceful expulsion and a fiery sensation in your esophagus.  

Overwhelmed by despair, you found yourself clutching at your hair, desperately digging your nails into your scalp as you pulled at your [H/c] colored tresses, hoping that this agonizing reality would dissolve into a mere figment of your imagination or a horrendous nightmare.

Already enduring a dreadful day, this traumatic scene shattered your fragile emotional state, sending waves of anguish through every fiber of your being, making you fear that you might lose consciousness.

With each successive backward step, your cheeks were drenched in a seemingly endless stream of briny tears, as if the act of retreating physically symbolized your desire to distance yourself from the emotional turmoil consuming you.  

With trembling and unsteady hands, you hastily reached into your pockets and frantically retrieved your phone.

It almost slipped from your shaky fingers, but you managed to tighten your grip on it. Filled with fear, you immediately dialed the number for your department, desperate to share the terrifying news that had just unfolded before your eyes. The sheer terror coursing through your veins made it difficult to steady your voice as you trembled with every word you spoke.  

“Please, please, pick up!” 

You couldn’t comprehend how these gruesome objects could have appeared in your fucking bathroom without your knowledge.   Fingers, bloodied and gruesome, were inexplicably plastered on your wall, mocking you with a message that sent shivers down your spine.  “Wish granted” it read, like a sick joke or a cruel twist of fate—What kind of sick psycho would do that?

You are in danger.

Deep down, you desperately hoped that it was all just an elaborate prank, but the harsh reality crept in as you realized the horrifying truth.   This was real.   The sight of the bones protruding from the severed fingers, the nauseating smell that permeated the air; it was all too real to fucking deny.  You were in danger. Someone broke into your house and placed those nasty things, you will probably be the next victim— no, no, you shouldn’t think like that, you needed to fucking calm down. But you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“Pick the fuck up, come on, come on, please, please!!”Your voice cracked with desperation as you urged the recipient of the call to answer. After what felt like an eternity, they finally picked up on the other end.

“Fuck, fuck...”

You breathed out, the relief that washed over you was drowned out by the urgency in your voice as you struggled to convey the gravity of the situation. 

“I need help, fuck, fuck, please... i need it asap!” Your words were slurred and rushed, with your fear causing you to stumble over your sentences, barely able to articulate your pleas. 

“lieutenant? What’s wrong? You seemed to be panicking.”

“Come here, please, please, come here as soon as possible!   I’m begging you!” Your voice quivered with a mix of terror and desperation as you practically wailed into the phone. The overwhelming sense of danger that loomed over you threatened to consume your every thought, leaving you trembling in its wake.

“Lieutenant [Name], calm down please, i cannot understand you, breathe lieutenant.”

The person on the other end of the line tried to calm you down, struggling to understand your panicked state.

“No! P-please! I beg you!   I-I’m in danger! I need help, ASAP!” You cried out, your voice cracking under the weight of the fear that gripped you. Gathering whatever courage you had left, you knew you had to escape the horrors that surrounded you.  Without hesitation, you dashed towards the door, paying no mind to the disarray of your appearance. Your hair was wild and disheveled from the frantic tugging and pulling, while your clothes were stained with the remnants of your own vomit. You didn’t even bother to slip on your shoes, desperate to flee as fast as possible, clutching onto your phone as if it were your only lifeline.

“I-i’m in danger, s-someone just fucking— blood, blood everywhere!”

You shouted frantically, your words tumbling out in a rush.   The sight of disembodied fingers had sent you into a state of panic and fear.   As you hurriedly fled the scene, your foot unintentionally landed on the broken shards of the road, causing searing pain to shoot through your body.   Despite the agony, you dared not glance back towards your dwelling, consumed by the urgency of escape. Each breath you took was labored and heavy while physical exertion and emotional turmoil that coursed within your veins.

“Lieutenant, please take a moment to catch your breath,” the concerned voice from the other end of the line implored—you were talking too fast after all and your breaths came in ragged gasps.

The person on the call was genuinely worried about your well-being, but the sheer intensity and speed of your words made it challenging for them to grasp the full extent of your distress.   What did you truly mean by ‘fingers’? The mention of that word stirred memories within them, reminiscent of the horrifying ordeal your boyfriend and best friend had endured just hours before.  Both of them had suffered the gruesome fate of having their fingers, hands, and feet forcibly severed.   And now, here you were, frantically babbling about fingers and succumbing to panic.   Your rapid-fire speech only served to further hinder comprehension. 

“Lieutenant, please try to compose yourself,” the voice urged, attempting to soothe your frenzied state once more.   This behavior was uncharacteristic of you, as you were never one to succumb to panic easily, unless something truly devastating had befallen you.    

Between sobs, you managed to utter,

“Fingers on my walls, blood...   blood was everywhere.” The words trembled with anguish and terror as you continued to run, tears streaming down your face.   The sight that had confronted you was undoubtedly traumatizing, imprinted in your mind like a horrifying image that refused to fade.    

“And i fucking know who those fucking fingers belong to!” you suddenly declared,

“They’re from Earl and Jhenicca!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Chuckling quietly to himself, Jack discreetly pressed the play button on his phone once again, the soft melody of the recorder filling his ears through the earphones he wore.   The recording, which captured your horrified scream upon discovering his little surprise gift for you, played on repeat as he leaned against the walls of your bedroom.

The sound of your screams, like a symphony to his ears, resonated deeply within him. As he listened intently, tapping his gloved hand against his masked face, he couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that you wouldn’t get the chance to witness the ‘gift’ he had carefully prepared for you in your bedroom. 

Unbeknownst to you, while you were having your break down, he had been concealed within your closet all this time, meticulously recording each moment of your suffering.

Every cry and retching sound had become music to his ears, fueling his sadistic pleasure. As was his usual routine when stalking you, he overheard your emotional breakdown while you were alone in your car, expressing a fervent wish for your unfaithful boyfriend and treacherous best friend to suffer a painful demise. And so, he decided to grant your fucking wish!

In his twisted mind, he saw himself as doing you a favor by eliminating the people who had caused you pain— They deserved nothing but torture and pain upon hurting you and he couldn’t help but wonder how that pathetic excuse of a man managed to pull someone like you.

Fuck, you were just so cute when you were wailing that he couldn’t help but want to hear that pretty cries of yours more, and so he killed your boyfriend and bestfriend to add more pain and make you more vulnerable, break you apart. And he killed your beloved bestfriend and boyfriend for you, after all, that’s what you wanted, right? right? right? You wanted this. You wished for this.

He deserves to be praised for doing such a great job in making you mentally unstable.

You provided him great amusement. as always in the past, you would display intense effort in attempting to identify the perpetrator and obtain even the slightest hint. Your unwavering determination, firm resolve, and intellectual capabilities were captivating, drawing him towards you.

For him, it was particularly enjoyable to unravel the complexities of someone as resilient as yourself,  and break that fucking adamant nature of you, unlike certain shy timid schoolgirls who become frightened merely at the sight of blood.

He sought amusement and you were the sole individual capable of providing it to him without inducing him in boredom.  

Your breakdown both surprised and amused him greatly, providing him with a sense of power over your vulnerable state.   The scent of your blood,  when your feet were cut on broken glass, wafted into his nostrils, providing an intoxicating allure that seemed almost heavenly to him.

And it made him wonder about how you tastes like.

[lightwing-s]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 ; 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: sometimes you couldn't help yourself from hating everything, sometimes you couldn't help bumping into people, sometimes certain stains were hard to remove

word count: 1,2k

links: next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

You hated this. The loud music. The crowded rooms. The sweaty bodies hitting against each other, devouring each other with no sense of modesty, dancing to the sound of whatever horrid electronic beat sounded from the many music boxes, scattered around the unnecessarily large house.

You hated the guys, eyeing you up and down like a meal to a starved man, undressing you in their minds and having thoughts you prayed you’d never get to hear. You hated the girls judging you with their unkind eyes. And most of all, tonight you hated your neighbor more than anyone in this entire world.

“C’mon, Yn.” She tugged at the sleeve of your jacket, trying to pull you to the dance floor along with her. “Let’s have some fun!”

“I’m fine, Nessie,” you uttered through gritted teeth. “Just do you.”

Your neighbor and, pending revision, friend rolled her eyes at you, dropping her shoulder before pulling you with her towards a corner. “You can’t let that call stop you from having fun,” she stated, boring her chocolate browns into you e/c ones.

After sighing deeply, you replied. “I’ll be fine.”

You didn’t think so, but you weren’t going to ruin your only friend’s night, even if you so wished to. She had been patient with you all the time since that damned phone call, even though if you were in her place, you’d have certainly snapped at your own stubbornness.

After much insisting, she gave up and let go of your hand to move into the crowd, going to dance or make out with anyone she could find close by. You stood still in the same corner, mopping under the blinking blue, red and purple lights, arms crossed on your chest and pushing away every guy that attempted to approach you with a single hostile glare.

One hour, then two hours had passed, your patience vanishing along with the late hours of the night. You couldn’t stand it anymore, too stressed, too pissed off, to be anywhere but home.

“Nessie!” you screamed after your friend, finding her dancing in the middle of two other people. She clearly didn’t hear you, and you had to take a deep breath before fighting your way through the warzone that was the dance floor.

Pushed from both sides, you had to literally dig your way between the waves of people throwing their sweaty bodies around, receiving one and another elbows to the face and giving some back in return. 

Almost approaching your friend’s spot, she noticed you making your way towards her and proceeded to walk to you, a smile spreading on her lips.

“Yn, you came!” she joyfully declared, throwing her arms in the air in celebration, instigating her new companions to join her excitement.

“I wanna go home,” you voiced out and her face instantly fell.

“No!” was her reply. “I’m having fun,” she stood firm.

Widening your eyes and puffing your cheeks with air, you wanted to turn into a five year old just to be able to throw a tantrum and dissipate all the anger you had in yourself without looking crazy. However, you were 22, a college graduate, and thankfully too mature to do so.

“Fine!” you let out instead. “I’m going alone.”

“Go sulk into your boring ass hell hole,” Nessie insulted, clearly intoxicated, and you flipped your middle finger at her before pushing your way through the crowd once more.

Your steps were heavy, weighed down and filled to the brim with your own rage. You pushed people aside, who looked back at you in displeasure, but you were not in the mood to fake an apology to any of them. Or anyone at all. You weren’t going to see them ever again anyways.

When turning a corner, about to step into the foyer as you approach the front door, a great wall bumped into you, sending you a few steps backwards, and the group around you let out shocked gasps. His drink poured over your chest, leaving you soaked in cheap alcohol and stained in red.

“FUCK!” you screamed out, rubbing furiously at your shirt with your jacket’s sleeve, tears slowly forming on your eyes. Your anger, if possible, grew by the minute, and you both wanted to punch the idiot that had done this to you and curl down in a corner and cry.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” said the male voice, apologizing with a little bit too much excitement. Drunk, awesome. “I did not see you there.”

He was kneeling down, picking up his cup and the ice cubes that had fallen to the floor. Gross.

“Obviously,” you whispered, hoping to flee this place as quickly as possible, but the tall man crouched down stopped you from taking any step further.

“Someone is angry,” he joked while standing up, mere inches in front of you. “Would you want to go somewhere where I could calm you down a little?”

He jiggled his thick eyebrows at you, other intentions evident in his offer. Finally getting the chance to stare properly at the clumsy douche that turned your white t-shirt red, you found his bright blue eyes that annoyed you just as much as his eyebrow move did.

“Why the hell would I ever want to go anywhere with someone like you?” Eyeing him up and down, you caught a glimpse at the tattoos decorating his arms, hands and neck. He smelled and looked like trouble, the kind of guy your p… You were always warned about.

“Ooh,” he blew. “Little Miss Stuck Up is angry angry.”

“Fuck off,” you swore, trying to push him away from you, but he didn’t even flinch.

“What? Don’t think we’d make cute babies?” he teased out of nowhere, stepping aside to let you pass.

“Why would I ever want to have a baby with you?” you asked over your shoulder, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Why would I ever want to have my dick inside you in the first place?” he asked back, forgetting his early offer, before you both rolled your eyes and walked in different directions.

You tried to dry the stain on your shirt as you walked away, continuously rubbing your chest as you left the house and on your entire Uber ride. You tried to wash it off when you got home, but the red stain wouldn’t disappear, not in the first, second or third tries of your washing machine, and neither the ones of  your desperate hands.

The stranger, whoever he was, made sure he’d leave his mark on you and that pissed you off even more, not because it was your favorite white t-shirt, not because it was new and expensive. But because it wasn’t just the stain he had left you with, as his bright blue eyes stuck to your head the entire weekend, as you sulked on your boring hell hole of an apartment.

As the weekend came to an end and the early morning sun announced the arrival of Monday, you stepped inside your regular gym. Freshly showered, headphones stuck to your ears, as you wished to relieve all your accumulated rage on every machine you could touch.

The gym was your haven, your place to find peace on stressful days and distract yourself from the world around you. You were ready to leave the place feeling refreshed and powered up for a new week of hard work and hustle.

You were gonna be fine, it was all gonna be perfect. If it wasn’t for you crashing into a large back, a water bottle splashing liquid on your face, and the same pair of blue eyes turning around and meeting yours again.

“Fuck!” you two said in unison.

This was going to be one hard stain to get rid of.

.

.

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[alovelywaytospendanevening]

Lit Hub: The Question of Homoeroticism in Whitman’s Poetry

Walt Whitman’s best poems demonstrate an almost unimaginable prescience; he and Dickinson, among 19th-century American poets, possess a nearly chilling self-consciousness, an acute self-analysis. Edward Carpenter, the British anarchist, writer, and champion of the Arts and Crafts movement whose life and romance were the model for E. M. Forster’s novel Maurice, wrote this elegant description of a visit with Whitman in 1877; the emphases are Carpenter’s own: “If I had thought before (and I do not know that I had) that Whitman was eccentric, unbalanced, violent, my first interview certainly produced quite a contrary effect. No one could be more considerate, I may almost say courteous; no one could have more simplicity of manner and freedom from egotistic wrigglings; and I never met any one who gave me more the impression of knowing what he was doing more than he did.” That there were words for homosexual behavior in Whitman’s day there can be no doubt. Social structures for enabling same-sex congress seem to have been a feature of life in the modern city at least since the later 18th century, when the “Molly houses” in London offered a zone of permission for transvestism. Herman Melville, in Redburn, carefully evokes the nattily dressed fellows who hang out in front of a downtown restaurant where opera singers perform; he means us to understand what these stylish outfits convey. Historian and theorist Luc Sante describes a 19th-century pamphlet that takes as its project the publication of the locations of various quite particular spots of diverse sexual practice in New York City—so that those informed of, say, the address of a bordello featuring willing boys can take special care to avoid this hazard. Trenchant evidence comes from Rufus Griswold’s review of the 1855 edition of Leaves of Grass: “We have found it impossible to convey any, even the most faint idea of style and contents, and of our disgust and detestation of them, without employing language that cannot be pleasing to ears polite; but it does seem that someone should, under circumstances like these, undertake a most disagreeable, yet stern duty. The records of crime show that many monsters have gone on in impunity, because the exposure of their vileness was attended with too great indelicacy. Peccatum illud horrible, inter Christianos non nominandum.” Which is all a way of saying that Whitman inscribes his sexuality on the frontier of modernity; he is writing into being—particularly in the “Calamus” poems of 1860, with their frank male-to-male loving, their assumption of equality on the part of the lovers—a new situation. He does not know how to proceed—he has no path —but he does it anyway. My guess is that he couldn’t have written “Calamus,” or the boldly homoerotic portions of the 1855 Leaves, even ten years later, as the advent of psychology increasingly led to a public perception of the normative, and imagery of the sacred family becomes the object of Victorian romance. As a category of identity—sodomite, invert, debauchee, pervert, Uranian—begins to emerge, so the poems with their claims of a loving, healthy, freely embraced same-sex desire become unwriteable, paradoxically, just as new language of homosexual identity begins to appear. Unwriteable, and, it would seem from Whitman’s later remarks, and some of his revisions, barely defensible. Carpenter and his readers were reaching for signposts of a gay identity when such a thing barely existed, but Whitman is ultimately a queer poet in the deepest sense of the word: he destabilizes, he unsettles, he removes the doors from their jambs. There is an uncanniness in “Song of Myself” and the other great poems of the 1850s that, for all his vaunted certainty, Whitman wishes to underscore. Again and again, he points us toward what, it seems, must remain folded in the buds beneath speech, since it cannot be brought to the surface. (Full article)

[itwdoris]

MORE STEIN PLEASE I NEED THAT MAN SO BADLY

franken stein x afab reader.

tw; piss, kinda nasty. not revised.

★

stein can be a bit strange at times, but you knew it from the moment you started going out, and in fact he never hid it, making it clear how much he enjoyed using you in various ways just for pleasure and curiosity.

when you were having sex and he simply stopped to piss inside you, you could see his eyes shining with it, you weren't surprised when he started doing it more often. and then when he asked you to do it, just so he could see you pissing all over his cock, so hot.

stein never had many limits, and you never refused him, not even when he started to go deeper, you wanted it too.

when you started playing with it even before or outside of sex, dangerously amusing him a little too much, franken no longer wanted to just soak you or fill you up, he wanted more, he wanted to see you drink it, he wanted to drink.

the point is that he had you right there in his hand to play with as he pleased, and fuck, his mind was so good. he could spend all day imagining piss-wet scenarios where you moan his name with your pretty little red face.

and the best thing, was that they never just stayed in his mind.

"spread your legs wider, dear." he helped you into the position he wanted, smiling very pleased, he went to the kitchen and got his favorite glass. "ah, i'm thirsty, you'd better give me plenty."

you could feel your face burning as you lay on the dining table, hands supporting you, knees apart and wet pussy well exposed so he could see the piss dripping down later.

he filled you up with water, your bladder was about to explode and all you could do from an early age was hold on and hold on, and he made a point of watching you, keeping you on his work table, folds well exposed at all times, it was almost relaxing to hear you whimpering quietly, trying to avoid leaking.

although it wouldn't be a problem, stein loved it when you couldn't stand it and made a mess of him. but for the sake of experience, he had to wait.

so he came back from the kitchen, a plate with some cookies in his hand and the other occupied with a glass, which he placed right below her pussy, sitting down at the table and taking a bite of one of the cookies. "oh yes, now you can pee."

he leaned back in his chair while you pressed your lips together, finally being able to relieve yourself, releasing the first drops and seeing him approach almost instantly, watching with attentive eyes.

stein felt his cock twitch inside his pants, but was annoyed to notice that you seemed to be controlling yourself a little.

"why do you keep holding it?" he asked with his mouth kinda full, just a few drops in his glass.

"d-don't want to make a mess.." you murmured softly, red face. you've been holding it for so long, and there was so much of it, that if you let go it would make a big wet mess on the table and on him...

"that's what i want." he grinned, patting your pussy and returning his back to the chair. "very good, now pee."

so you obeyed him, before he came to you for help like last time, a sigh coming from your lips when you finally decided to let go, drops and drops until the clear, warm stream gushed out.

but there was so much, it fell into his glass and ended up wetting your precious biscuits made with so much care. he moved closer, making you moan at the sight of him getting wet, moving your hips just a little, enough to make it better.

your legs trembled slightly as the piss seemed endless, dripping and filling the glass below you to overflowing. but it was so good.

and franken certainly agreed, because his pants were too tight for his hard cock. his glasses were dripping and he could hardly think about the rest just by noticing the mess you were making, your wet pussy gushing piss everywhere.

but unfortunately it came to an end, making you moan with relief as you sat down at the wet table, breathing slowly, the full glass right in front of you.

stein picked up the glass and brought it to his mouth to drink, his hands spreading his own needy cock inside his pants. and he finished in no time, panting after drinking without stopping, putting the empty glass back on the table.

his face hardly ever turned red, and to see him like that, so full of pleasure...

he sighed, leaning back in his chair and pulling out his full cock, taking off his glasses and another cookie to eat, even though it was soaked, because he had certainly discovered another experiment to test further.

his hand began to move up and down slowly, you moved a little closer to watch better, seeing him close his eyes as he chewed.

"hmm, you should try these cookies."

i'm sorry, this man is a menace. he has no limits, nor i. these cookies were made with a lot of love and cum for those who didn't get it. ( sorry guys, im nasty.

also sorry if you didn't want piss involved =| but i hope you like it!

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

had an eighth grader read these two sentences and then asked him, “so what did the businessmen and property owners do because they were concerned?” and he had absolutely no idea. like none whatsoever. could not connect their concern to the land revision act. and on the one hand, this is an eighth grader, and not a college bound senior, so it’s a little less viscerally alarming. on the other hand i think this is a useful example of a specific kind of comprehension breakdown - not internalizing the reality that sentences are connected to each other - that i think is really, really hard for people who don’t struggle with this to imagine until they encounter it, and that, crucially, i really think most classroom teachers, at all levels, don’t ever really recognize or see in action, because the kinds of activities, discussions, and assessments they’re doing are focused on more “big picture” stuff, and even if students are obviously struggling, most teachers are going to look for solutions on the “big picture” level and never really get granular enough about where the problem is happening to spot this in action (in no small part because their training almost certainly did not address this literally at all). but, like, imagine this happening constantly across the text of a whole-ass book! how meaningfully can a person understand a book they read like that? how can we ever expect them to enjoy reading when they have not received sufficient instruction and support to understand that each sentence in a paragraph builds on the one before? (you will notice also that the issue here has nothing to do with phonics, and while i love that we all stan sold a story now i have seen an uptick in people acting like Thee issue in literacy is that we’re not doing phonics, which is not the case; the student could read all the words here, but not the text in which the words appeared.)

[baiwu-jinji]

Hello! I’ve read your thoughts on TGCF and I really enjoy them.

I also like the cultural references and knowledge you bring to the table. It’s something that gets lost in English translation and learning about it just adds another layer to enjoy about TGCF.

Recently I saw some asks/answers compare Hualian to another couple. I haven’t read the other story 😅 but I have heard similar opinions of Hualian being very idealized, too perfect, unrealistic or all three.

I’ve been very curious about this part as I also have a vague memory of someone noting that even the author says Hualian is like a fairytale.

I was surprised about this because their softness, respect and unconditional love for each other is something I really love about them.🌸🌸🌸

Could you share more of your perspective on this?

Is it the waiting 800 years part? The unconditional acceptance and devotion on Hua Cheng’s part(and Xie Lian’s side too)? The lack of arguments between them?

For my part , obviously 800 years is a fantastical amount of time to remain in love and devoted to someone. Especially considering how little time Hua Cheng spent with Xie Lian in the beginning. I am totally willing to suspend my belief for these two points and chalk it up to Hua Cheng’s personality. I also think Hua Cheng’s love for Xie Lian grew and matured as he did.

It’s really interesting too that those very positive traits - unconditional devotion, faith and love (not obedience because honestly Hua cheng quiet frequently disobeys😅) while more obviously written in a positive light can be explored in fanfiction from the other end. And I don’t mean obsession or stalking, but more like loving someone to the point of your own detriment.

And Hualian, though certainly they didn’t really argue in the book, they did have disagreements. (And I think in the revised novel, of at least the translated part I read, they do get a more serious argument)

To me, their easy acceptance and the unconditional love aspect can be chalked up to their personality, life experiences and the fact they both have lived centuries long.

Anyhow, I know I rambled on a bit. 😅😅😅

But I am really curious on your feedback about this or a link if you answered this more in detail with a similar ask.

Thank you! 😊

Hi! :) Thank you for your kind words and sorry about the really late reply ><  MXTX once wrote about a dream she had where a voice told her that TGCF is like a “a little red clay stove” (I translated MXTX’s dream here). The literary reference of “a little red clay stove” symbolises the warmth and comfort of domestic life and the joy of friendship and companionship, which I think is what MXTX wants Hualian’s relationship to stand for - Hualian is meant to be warm, tender, homely and cosy, with as little friction as possible in the relationship. It is a very idealised relationship (how can it not be with HC’s unfading love for and faith in XL and XL’s instinctual and almost instant trust in HC), and that’s why people love Hualian, because we long to be loved with such unconditional acceptance and unwavering devotion ourselves, and we want to find someone we could love with unconditional acceptance and unwavering devotion, whether such love is possible in real life or not. Hualian’s success and popularity is clearly not due to it being a gritty and brutally honest interrogation of the complexities of romantic relationships in realistic contexts, but because it is the sort of ideal relationship of pure bliss people dream of having. Therefore I can’t say Hualian’s idealisation of romantic relationships is one of its literary flaws because it’s never aiming to be otherwise, and its idealistic nature is one of its main selling points.

This is a digression but what I find interesting about Hualian is this sort of paradox in HC being both a lover and a worshipper - to worship a god is to worship his divine infallibility, but to love a human is to love his human fallibility (but then Borges said that “to fall in love is to create a religion that has a fallible god”, so that resolves the paradox?). And it makes me think about what HC means when he says to XL “I’m forever your most devoted believer.” What is it that HC eternally believes in as XL's believer? It’s not XL’s infallibility, or perfection, or omnipotence, or incorruptibility, or inexhuastable goodness that HC believes in, because XL is neither of those things, so what is it that HC believes in? Maybe what HC forever believes in is the fact that he will love XL forever - maybe that’s what HC is a believer of…

I hope this answer makes sense, and in short I meant to say that I can’t deny Hualian is idealised, but that’s what makes them appealing.

[saintsenara]

my kingdom for your thoughts on george weasley/hermione

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i know that there's a rumour that jkr once said that she intended to have fred and hermione get together - which i can find no actual evidence of, and i highly suspect fredmione nation might just have made up - but i personally think that, when it comes to pairing her with one of the twins, george is probably the better bet...

george is certainly the twin that i think it would be easier to be in a long-term relationship [romantic or platonic] with, because he's the one who seems to better at relating to other people.

fred is demonstrably the crueller of the two, in ways which often suggest that he doesn't possess a particularly great capacity for empathy - it's very striking that three of the more disturbing things we learn happened to ron as a child [his teddy bear being turned into a spider; his puffskein being killed when it was used for "bludger practice" - that is, when his pet was beaten to death with a bat; and him being tricked into almost making an unbreakable vow] are attributed to fred, with george implied to be involved, but not to be the ringleader of the scheme.

we see this elsewhere in canon - fred is the person who arranges their bet with ludo bagman, and then the person who takes the lead in their attempts to threaten him into paying them their winnings; fred is the person who takes the lead when they're negotiating prices for stolen goods with mundungus - and i think we can certainly say that, while both twins are clearly broadly equal in terms of certain personality traits [they're both funny, cheeky, irreverent, loyal, creative, clever-but-only-on-their-terms, and so on], george is less domineering and - potentially - more insecure than his brother.

which is to say... he's quite a lot like ron. in a way that fred - since ron lacks his crueller elements - isn't.

and - therefore - he's got the right personality to gel with hermione as she is in canon.

he's clearly going to be able to handle the fact that hermione expresses her affection by meddling and nagging - since this is exactly what his mother is like - and he's also - like ron [and unlike harry] - canonically at ease with the fact that she likes to work through her thoughts and feelings by debating [we see this in goblet of fire - george gets into a debate about house elf rights with hermione, and doesn't take her popping off about him being wrong as something to be offended by]. nor is either twin ever shown to react negatively to hermione's fondness for following rules and working hard at school - they think of her inflexibility as a benign-and-therefore-easy-to-accept, if faintly amusing, character quirk.

hermione, for her part, also sees the twins' rule-breaking and academic laziness as quirks she can accept.

[this point about acceptance is a key one, i think. i never vibe with the idea that hermione is intellectually compatible with characters like snape, voldemort and sirius, not because i think she has a lower level of intelligence than them - she doesn't - but because she has a different one (one which is based in the constant retention and repetition of empirical information, whereas snape and voldemort's intellectual expression is based in rejecting disciplinary boundaries and sirius' is based in rejecting the idea of repeating and revising knowledge) and because the men in question would, given what we see of them in canon, treat her way of expressing her intelligence with contempt. but ron and harry are intelligent in very different ways than hermione too, and this is something all three members of the trio understand as a good thing which only serves to strengthen their relationship, because ron and harry treat hermione's intellect with respect and she does the same. her relationship with the twins is similar.]

but with this said... i think there's the potential for some extremely thorny clashes between george and hermione, which take a bit of character wrangling to come through compellingly.

the first is fred's influence when he's alive - particularly since hermione's incredible capacity for loyalty [one of her best traits] comes with the negative that she's often far more willing than either harry or ron to put up with being ill-treated by people she likes or respects [i.e. how she just takes snape's cruelty towards her, because he's clearly a teacher she looks up to from an academic perspective]. i think we have to assume that fred would remain george's priority even if he was in a relationship, and to ask what impact this would have on his partner - especially if george made promises ["we'll hang out tonight"] which he then broke in order to do something nefarious with his brother.

[that is, would hermione remain as chill with the twins' rule-breaking as she is if their rule-breaking happened because her boyfriend treated her with disdain?]

the second is fred's influence after his death. another of hermione's really impressive traits is that she's phenomenally resilient [she's a fifteen-year-old girl who doesn't give a fuck that she's being slandered in a national paper, it's legitimately iconic], but this is accompanied by the negative that she has a canonically low tolerance for moping [hence her belief in order of the phoenix that sirius could get over his depression if he just tried hard enough] and a tendency to want to respond to negative emotions by fixing them [which we see in her determination to get harry to talk about sirius at the start of half-blood prince], rather than just letting them run their course.

this isn't a fault, per se - many people approach grief in this way; it's a coping mechanism - but i think it wouldn't align in the slightest with the way george's grief over fred would manifest itself. and i think this could - without either one of them ever being demonstrably in the wrong - cause some real, real mess in a relationship which might turn it into something properly toxic.

[r0semaryt3a]

Domestic Facade

Chrollo x (f) OC

A/N: so I started this as a little break from revision and to mess around with writing tropes I hate, but now I’m really into the idea and need feedback on the initial extract. I was going to post this directly onto Ao3 but want to increase my changes of writing more by having a few characters under my belt.

NOT PARTICULARLY PROOF READ

Feeback would be appreciated <3

CW: non applicable

Word count: 1,193

- Content bellow read on -

The early hours of morning began to arrive, sun trickling through open windows, seemingly drawn by the sizzling of eggs. Days like this were nice. Curtains drifting slowly in the breeze, everything at peace. The thought of work -as pleasant as she found it- not weighing heavy on Nirami’s back.

One of her few days off.

Nirami stood beside her kitchen counter, watching as steam billowed from her soon to be breakfast. She loved cooking. Always had, it was so fascinating watching atoms at work.

Sat, ogling, at the way her egg whites puffed up.

The things swayed in her pan with every small movement, don’t play with your food, a familiar voice rang in the back of her head. Her father always did hate this habit of her’s. Counted it a waste of food as stubby legs would dangle idly from her chair, fork prodding at the food she’d left to go cold with a pout. ‘I don’t want it.’ she’d whine, only for a firm voice to barter with her, holding the prospect of desert like a carrot on a stick. Inevitably causing her to cave. At the time, she’d looked at him as if he was the worst person in the world. However, now, standing in a kitchen of her own, she began to appreciate that he placated to her antics.

Slumping the eggs onto a plate, Nirami moved to check on her hashbrowns (an equally as interesting phenomenon to watch as her eggs.), she’d have to pay him a visit, get something to replace the flowers she’d given last time. He always liked Chrysanthemums, it wouldn’t hurt to pick some next time she went out.

A single churn of her salt shaker signaled the dinner bell; she sat down to eat. Tearing her food apart with an almost abnormally meticulous care.

Through her chewing, Nirami turned her attention to the flurry of plants climbing up her walls. A colleague had once suggested the idea of a simple houseplant, to keep her occupied during her parents' passing, a few years ago. A part of her had scoffed at the idea. And now here she was, all sorts of flora scattered around her apartment.

Nirami wouldn’t particularly say it had elevated her grief, but it was certainly a pleasant development. A particularly burnt piece of potato cut through her idle thoughts, maybe she should’ve focused a little more on ensuring her food was edible…The food itself was nice, it always was, for all her slip ups Nirami was a good cook. Eggs oozed; she eagerly wiped up their contents and around fifteen minutes passed before she’d finished. Raising to put her plates in for the wash. A sigh left Nirami as she went about her daily drivel, it was always like this, just as she liked it. The routine had brought solace in times of distress and kept her grounded for her line of work. Never changing, forever trudging along.

Life was simple like this.

Life was good like this.

Life was–

–buzz

The light of her phone flooded the room, its artificial hue reminded her of work. Placing her plate back into soapy water, her eyes scanned the screen’s surface. Unfortunately for her, it had already faded. Forcing Nirami to dry her hands and wander to the side, picking up her mobile, a smile split through her lips. Perhaps changes in her routine were good every once in a while, he was proof of that. Chrollo.

The two had met at her place of work, he’d been dressed to the nines. At the time, she’d taken his attire and assumed he was there to grieve a loved one, offering her condolences. Once he’d revealed he was simply there for an appointment, she’d found herself stumbling over her words. He was kind and quite the charmer, winning her over with ease (and a little coffee).

Since then the two had grown quite close, Chrollo had slotted himself neatly into Nirami’s schedule. Quite the feat indeed. He wasn't around much anymore, had to head back off to work, he’d told her. And so, anytime his name popped up on her phone, it filled her with nothing but euphoria.

The text was simple enough, morning love, yet she still found it hard to respond.

He always did have that effect on her.

Chrollo was far more composed than Nirami. Every word he ever said was picked with poise. She settled for an equally simple response (one most would’ve considered second nature.) morning. The words ‘delivered’ looked back up at her. No doubt he’d take a while to respond, he usually did…

With a sigh, Nirami set back off to do: something. A pleasant hum leaving her as she did. Her apartment was fairly small yet held a large range of activities. She settled for reading.

Plucking one of the many books from its neat place upon her shelf, she didn't particularly know what it was she’d picked. Nor did she care. Everybook in that apartment had been picked apart more times than she could count. Most of them were gifts. Small reminders of Chrollo’s many stays. He’d often send them over, classics and historical pieces, far beyond the ages. A few of them had been in languages Nirami had never even heard of, forcing her hand in learning all sorts of new tongues.

She’d taken to her sofa, swinging her legs onto its surface and brushing her fingers against the pages. Turning to the cover she was finally met by its title: Wuthering Heights. She was familiar with this one, had been when Chrollo had bought her this particular copy. The conversation of that ordeal lay sweet on her tongue.

“Ah, this one’s a particular favorite of mine.” A chuckle rang out as fingers grasped a hard worn cover, moving with almost criminal precision. Finally holding it in view Nirami’s eyes were alight with curiosity before her eyes met the title. “Fitting, a man of nuance, attracted to the definition of it.” A slight look of surprise overtook Chrollo’s features, the act so minute Nirami missed it by a mile. “You’ve read it?” The question wasn’t raised in a way of shock, more admiration, “mhm, a few times over actually. My father used to give me all his mother’s old books.” The conversation spanned for what felt like hours, every answer Nirami gave seemed to give way only for another question. All perfectly eloquent and all perfectly crafted to garner the exact responses he seemed to crave.

It had been like watching a thief at work, the thought was almost enough to elicit a small laugh from Nirami. Her Chrollo, a man who’d shown her nothing but compassion, a thief? Such juxtaposition was a thing of Shakespeare. The idea in itself seemed laughable…With all the ruckus in her life, Chrollo had come as a pleasant break, thoughts of him often flooded her head nowadays. Though she tried her best to filter them at work, he always loomed in some deep recess of her mind. In a way, Nirami guessed he was a thief: he’d stolen her attention in such little time.

Bzz.

[cuddlepilefics]

I can't take it anymore

(Don't you smell familiar 2)

@ailesswhumptober

Overstimulation, migraines

Masterlist

After spending all night revising the spells for the summoning ritual, Chan decided to raise the topic over breakfast. He’d need his friends’ support for the ritual and the moon was in the right quarter for this type of magic, so he didn’t feel like waiting another month. Though his dongsaengs knew how important this was to Chan, they were hesitant, especially Seungmin. The youngest had gotten far more skilled since Jeongin had joined him but he still doubted his powers and supporting their coven leader in such an intense ritual made him feel self-conscious despite having already summoned Jeongin and having supported Changbin and Jisung. Something about Chan’s previous failed attempts put the whole coven on edge.

Changbin was mainly worried whether Chan was in any shape to perform the ritual again. The last few times had taken a lot out of him and had left him exhausted for days afterwards, besides he wanted for it to work out so badly, another failure would most definitely break his heart. Jisung too feared bow the eldest would cope if it didn’t work and he ran himself into the ground without actually summoning his familiar. Given his own situation with Felix, Jisung knew that it was possible Chan had simply tried too early in his life and he didn’t know if it was a good or a bad thing that he had summoned his familiar at such a young age. Of course, he loved Lixxie with all his heart but it sometimes felt like he was a parent and wasn’t sure whether he was ready for that. Teaching the young chick to fly when he himself didn’t have wings had certainly been a wild ride and he had absolutely mastered the spell for conjuring up safety nets by now.

“Take your time, hyung”, Seungmin smiled tensely as he watched Chan triple check the sigils he had drawn on the floor. Changbin scanned over the arrangement of crystals on the floor, comparing them with the spell book to ensure Chan had lined them up with the right sigils. They had done this before and successfully so three times, so why were they so nervous? Settling down on the floor, Jisung closed his eyes and deeply inhaled the incense Chan had lit. He had memorized the chant to perfection, feeling like they owed their leader at least that much. How had Chan mentored them each before their familiar summoning rituals but had yet to successfully complete the ritual himself?

Once they had all settled on the floor in front of one of the chalk-drawn sigils, the lit a candle. Felix sat perked on Jisung’s shoulder, anxious as he had never assisted the witch in such a powerful ritual. Jeongin was far more chill but stayed close to Seungmin anyway to help the boy ground himself. Hyunjin settled on Changbin’s lap and after taking a deep breath to clear his mind, Changbin too gave Chan a reassuring nod. They were ready.

Chan closed his eyes and started to recite the chant, feeling reassured when his coven members’ voices joined him, their powers channeling into him. His palms grew warm and he felt himself flooded with their united magic, lifting one hand to draw the first symbol into the air in front of him. Chan knew he needed to be focused but his mind grew foggy, hands moving on autopilot to draw the symbols that seemed etched into his brain. Still chanting, he felt his heart hammer in his chest as a cold gust of wind hit him and almost got extinguished the candle in front of him. Something was happening. Chan took this as a good sign and tried to refocus but that only seemed to increase the pressure in his skull.

Since these rituals were always draining, Chan didn’t think much of the growing discomfort as he felt his magic being drained and pushed on. His lips kept chanting on their own accord and he doubted he’d be able to consciously remember the words if he tried with how hard his head was pulsing. Chan felt the air being pulled from his lungs as he was hit with a wave of vertigo. This was worse than on his previous attempts and he could only hope that it meant he was getting closer than he had ever before. An anxious chirp caught Jisung’s attention but Chan didn’t even register it. Though still chanting and channeling his powers into Chan, Jisung opened his eyes and watched the older. He saw their leader sway and lightly tapped Changbin’s shoulder, so he too could see their hyung sway, the color draining from his face completely.

Chan’s palms still glowed, so they didn’t interrupt his ritual for the chance that he’d succeed this time but they too could feel their powers draining. None of their summoning rituals had felt like this. Before any of them could react, the candles flickered out and Chan collapsed backwards. Afraid of any dangerous side effects, Changbin hurriedly wiped one of the chalk sigils before rushing to Chan’s side. Jisung did the same, turned on the ceiling light with a snap of his fingers and instructed Seungmin to quickly disassemble the setup, so nothing else could be summoned by accident. Something about this wasn’t right at all. The eldest was still unconscious when Changbin cupped his cheek and realized how awfully cold his skin had turned.

Clearing away the remnants of the failed ritual was a team effort really, the familiars helping Seungmin by carrying the crystals to the coffee table while he brushed his fingers across the chalk lines destroying them till he got the opportunity to mop the floor. There was a weak groan as Chan started to come too, his previously glowing hands now icy cold. He needed a moment to remember what exactly he was doing on the floor, the thudding in his head making it difficult to recall anything. The incense smoke hanging thickly in the air only further clouded his brain and those hands on his skin hurt.

Changbin backed away slightly when Chan clumsily pushed his hands away. “Do you hear me, hyung?”, he asked softly, causing the other to startle. His words had sounded painfully sharp to Chan, every consonant a spike that threatened to crack his skull open. Realizing what was happening, Changbin dimmed the light with a wave of his hand and cupped his hands over Chan’s ears. All of a sudden, the eldest was enveloped in quietness, everything sounding so far away it seemed easy to just go asleep for a while. If only his head didn’t hurt so badly.

“That’s a migraine if I’ve ever seen one”, Changbin muttered, upholding the muting spell, “He pushed himself too hard, extended his powers too far. Now he’s completely drained and overstimulated at the same time.” Trying to relax, now that it was quiet around him, Chan took a shaky breath and was immediately hit with the suffocatingly sweet incense smoke. His stomach turned at the smell, forcing him to sit up. Luckily, Changbin caught on and kept silencing his surroundings, so he didn’t even hear the younger’s warning or Jisung rushing off to grab a bucket. It had been an incredibly long time since one of them had spread themselves this thin but it wasn’t like it had never happened before. They could handle it.

Seungmin opened the windows and conjured up a light breeze to help the apartment air out faster, wincing as he listened to Chan getting sick. The older coped a little better with skinship now but did he really have a choice when Changbin’s palm across his forehead was the only thing keeping him from making a mess? Still, Jisung’s hand running up and down his back felt nice in a way and he didn’t need to hear or see them to know they’d help him get through the consequences of his actions.

Only when Chan’s stomach had entirely turned itself inside out, was he able to breathe a little easier. Jisung carefully took the bucket from his grasp and helped get him settled against Changbin’s side. “Is he still so cold?”, Seungmin mouthed and quickly pulled the quilt off the couch when Changbin nodded. Gently tucking the soft material around Chan, Seungmin bundled the elder’s icy hands in the quilt and lightly rubbed them through the fabric to generate warmth. Changbin motioned for them all to be quiet before giving Chan his hearing back. It made him wince in discomfort but they needed to be able to communicate somehow.

“Let us help you to bed?”, Changbin whispered, stroking the curls out of Chan’s ashy face. The older nodded, though barely noticeable, so Jisung and Seungmin helped him to his feet. Carefully fixing the blanket around his shoulders, Changbin supported his hyung on one side, while Seungmin took the other. Jisung did his best to move around as quietly as possible, preparing some herbal tea for Chan and dishing out some treats for Felix, Hyunjin and Jeongin. The three familiars were still shaken up, especially Felix, so he took the time to soothe them all and ended up keeping Felix on his wrist. Rubbing the chick’s head with his finger, Jisung promised: “Channie-hyung will be okay. He just needs to rest for a while and maybe warm up. That spell really zapped the warmth from him.”

To help Chan warm up quicker, Seungmin had tucked multiple blankets over him. He smiled when Hyunjin raced up Changbin’s back and perched himself on the witches shoulder. Wanting to reduce the strain on their eldest, Changbin placed noise seals on the window and door, so they wouldn’t disturb him. Jisung soon joined them with the tea after stirring in a generous amount of honey. Eager to help, Felix had chirped at Jisung long enough till the witch had found something the little familiar would be able to do for Chan. The older only heard the soft flapping of wings when Felix passed Changbin’s seal and blinked his eyes open in the dimness of his bedroom.

A soft smile spread across Chan’s lips despite the pain, as Felix crash-landed on the blanket. Clumsily freeing one hand from his blanket cocoon, Chan accepted the hand warmer and mumbled: “Thank you. ‘m sorry I took it too far. Are you guys okay?” Shushing him that everyone was fine, Jisung placed the steaming tea cup onto the nightstand and the faint honey scent comforted Chan without overwhelming him. The eldest tiredly retracted his hand and clutched the hand warmer between both to soothe his freezing fingers. It was adorable but also impressive how Felix had carried a hand warmer almost his weight, while it felt like his first attempts at flying had only been yesterday. They all vividly remembered the young familiar plummeting from the bookshelf, trying to start from the highest vantage point and glide down to the carpet. Jisung’s safety nets had always been there to protect him from the fall and Chan’s coven would always be his safety net when he couldn’t take it anymore.

[matchayogitea]

Downward Dog - Sirius Black x reader (part 3)

Part 1

Part 2

"How long does it take to brew the Felix Felicis potion, and how difficult is it?"

You frowned in concentration, trying to remember the exact amount of time it required. You always got confused on this one, you weren't sure why. "It's one of the most difficult potions to make, with disastrous consequences if made wrong, and it takes... four months?" 

Sirius closed the book with a smile. "Almost. Six months."

"Almost?" you repeated, sighing. "That's not even remotely close!"

"Sure it is. You could have said it takes six days."

"Potions is my least favorite subject and I suck at it but I know that brewing Felix Felicis requires months. I'm not that dumb." 

Sirius leaned back in the armchair, grinning. "I never thought you were. And you don't suck at Potions."

"Thank you..." you muttered, lowering your gaze. Sirius was doing it again. Staring at you with that intense look that made you wonder what the two of you really were. Because that stare wasn't something you normally directed at friends.

"Alright! Now that's out of the way - you're going to ace Slughorn's test, don't you dare doubt me - can we go practice yoga?" He jumped to his feet, making you laugh. He looked so excited, like a child on Christmas' Eve. 

"We can, we definitely earned it."

"Yes!" He pumped his fist in the air and you laughed again, shaking your head. "Look at you all thrilled after you've had just one lesson!"

"I had a good teacher!" He winked, and you tried with everything in you not to blush, as you left the Common Room and headed up to the dorms to get changed into something more practical. Sirius said you could do yoga in his dorm, since James, Remus and Peter were busy, so you quickly put on some comfortable clothes and grabbed your mat, before reaching him.

Studying with him had actually been very helpful. When he had told you he could help you revise everything in a few hours you hadn't really believed him, but he had been good with making you memorize ingredients and effects of several potions by linking them together. He said it was a method he had come up with that made learning subjects he hated easily, and he wasn't lying. You did feel better after cramming with him.

You knocked on the Marauders' dorm room and waited. You didn't hear anything, so you knocked again. "Sirius, are you ready?" Without thinking, you pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Your mouth almost dropped open when you saw Sirius by an open window, looking outside. He was waving wildly, you guessed at his friends out on the school grounds, and he definitely hadn't heard you, judging from the way he was standing there clad only in his trousers, shirtless.

You cleared your throat and he turned around, but didn't look embarassed at all. "Oh, sorry, Y/N! I didn't hear you, James was shouting something." He hurried to close the window and walked toward you, smiling brightly. "Ready?"

"I am, but..." you gestured to his chest. 

"I thought about practicing like this, it feels less... restrictive," he explained. "Unless it makes you uncomfortable..." 

You certainly didn't want to make a fuss over a shirtless boy. Even if you and this shirtless boy were standing extremely close to his bed, in his deserted dorm room, and the boy in question looked so good it took you everything not to stare. "Of course not. Shall we?"

You laid out your mat while Sirius just moved to the centre of the carpet. 

"Alright, let's start in mountain pose. Follow me, and stop me anytime you don't understand or need help," you exclaimed, trying to sound confident. 

Sirius nodded and mimicked your pose, as you both closed your eyes and you guided him in your practice. 

It went well. He even almost managed to pull off crow pose, but ended up almost face-planting to the floor. Almost, because you had moved beside him to help him with alignment, and managed to steady him just in time.

Even his back looked good, you thought, as you stared at his shoulders, his shoulder blades, the muscles that twitched as he moved slowly. As you touched his shoulders to help him with the pose you felt your face flush. He was so damn attractive, and you hated feeling so affected by him. You two were just friends, and you had grown closer lately but it didn't mean anything at all, not when Sirius could have anybody he wanted-

"Y/N?"

You blinked. "Yes?"

"Can you show me that other pose... wheel pose?"

"The one I was practicing yesterday when you walked in?" He nodded. "Sure."

Hoping you wouldn't end up looking like an idiot - you had only recently mastered wheel pose - you showed it to him, and Sirius let out an appreciative whistle. "That is impressive. How long does it take to learn?"

"Everyone's different, some people can do it right away. I wouldn't recommend you try it today though, I think we've done enough and you should get some rest." You told him after coming out of the pose. 

"You're right. It's almost dinner time, as well. I feel hungry after exercising!" He paused, staring at you with a slight smile. "You're quite the sadist, making me hold forearm plank for a whole minute."

"Am not! You insisted you could hold it for longer than five breaths," you pointed out, smiling. "I am sure you just wanted to show off. Admit it."

"Me? Do I look like somebody that thrives on attention?" he gasped dramatically, a hand on his heart, pretending to be offended.

"Of course not. You're such an introvert," you rolled your eyes, still smiling. 

Suddenly, silence enveloped you both. As you stared into his eyes, marveling at how handsome he was, Sirius moved one step closer to you. "When Peter interrupted us yesterday..." He bit his lip, slowly placing a hand on your arm. That instantly gave you chills. Good ones. "I meant to ask you..."

"Yes?" you whispered, eyes fixed on him. His fingertips on your bare arm were really distracting. And he smelled so good. Damn. Stop it, Y/N. Focus.

"It's Hogsmeade weekend next Saturday, do you wanna go together?"

You felt your breath hitch in your throat. You had been hoping he'd ask you out for a long time, but had never dared believe he really would. "I would like that," you replied, trying to smile but feeling as if your face had frozen.

Sirius was smiling big enough for both of you, anyway.

Comments welcome! :D

[marcyharm]

I just wanna let you know this blog feeds me marcy content even after the fandoms been dead and I can't be more thankful. GOD this show has such a special place in my heart, it really means a lot to know that there are still people who care about this series to the extent that I do. :)

I have many personal gripes on amphibia /LOVING, but mainly the missed potiental of a kids show by Disney that had to play back a lot of implications about the series to make it more palatable to the executives. I can't help but still respect that they got a way with a LOT, I also can't help but be sad there wasn't more darker scenes in s3 or for implications on true colors/the core/the girls grief as a whole. I can dream....,,,, that's why I live on fanfic and have a whole separate revised series in my head that I think of instead ❤️

Anyways I'm not really sure why I had the motivation to do this, I just think this blog is pretty great. I can't wait to hear more!

hehehe tysm!!! my hyperfixation got super suddenly reawakened right after i moved away to college and so im super nostalgic for the time i spent in this fandom back in high school now... this show really is closer to my heart than any other ive watched and i highly highly doubt ill ever feel the same way about any other show. it will always always be special to me. i said that abt other shows i hyperfixated on like steven universe but even that pales in comparison to what amphibia means to me!!! and marcy angst is ofc the best part of the fandom and i am not biased at all . these characters and their world are so incredible but tbh the fandom is even more special than the show. the true colors hiatus will always be incredibly nostalgic and idk if ill ever feel that same community in another fandom. hell i met my beloved partner of almost 3 years through this fandom and i see us lasting a lot longer. if i met my future wife because of amphibia then it really shows how much this show shaped myself and my life.

that really got away from me but yeah fanon is always there to fill in the gaps of the show. i never wanted to demand anything from this show that a disney cartoon wouldnt go through with but hey. the o&y anniversary is in two days. i sure never thought they would do THAT but they DID and it was horrible and fuckin AWESOME. and maybe thats why amphibia has always scratched my author brain more than any other fandom. the year and a half or so when my amphibia hyperfixation was totally dormant i spent just in the homestuck fandom and while thats easily one of the greatest pieces of media i have ever consumed in my life and ive written a decent handful of fanfic for... i have 80 published works for amphibia. thats so many!!! getting back into amphibia has gotten me writing so much again because theres something about it that is so compelling on its own but leaves enough loose threads open for fanworks to play within its structure and add in things that it feels like its missing.

to further treat ur nostalgia check out my fanart archive blog @3-stones-deity and my 3rd anniversary s3 rewatch project community which i got behind on running because of schoolwork but will certainly be catching up with before o&y!

[amelias-zelda-calamity-quintet]

The Convergence & Magic w/ Princess Zelda

Zelda: "You haven't heard of the Convergence? Ah, well, documenting Hyrule's past has been...difficult to say the least. We're fortune to live in a time where we have access to a good deal of our history, no small part to due to the events of the Convergence and the allies of Hyrule from that period.

"To put it simply, the Convergence was a cosmological event roughly a thousand years ago that occurred in response to the Divergence in eras past. This event remerged the split in time that the Divergence created, reinforced by a Wish made by the Hero and the Princess of that era to heal time. In the process, three timelines worth of magic were pushed into our singular one. Which has created a good deal of influx for magic.

"In the past, only a handful of people had regular access to magic: the Royal Family, Sages, and the like. However, since the Convergence, the appearance of Sages have almost vanished in the traditional sense. Instead, we've seen influx of mages, or more common magic users. There are still individuals suspected to be Sages, of course, but arcanely inclined lineages have also seen an increase in ability. It's why where previously individuals from my family tree who would only have access to divine magics now have had the opportunity to study the elemental schools of magic as well.

"It also means that there is more access to magic than ever before. Previously, most people could only use magic through divinely crafted relics, like those left behind for the Heroes. Now, research has allowed for mages to create their own enchanted items. Nothing on caliber of the creations of the Goddesses, but still a considerable step forward to the understanding of arcanum."

Marela: "I like the enchanted bags we invented the most, those are incredibly useful."

Zelda: "There are certainly a few creations I'm partial to myself. And our beginning research into teleportation has been incredibly fruitful. (L: "Beginning?") Much like with the Goddesses though, most people share a magical affinity that will determine the school of magic they're most easily able to work with. But that's of course a topic for another time."

Marela: "But it means there are all kinds of magic users now! Witches, priestesses, mages, not to mention the cultural practices that have developed. I hear the Gerudo have a practice for igniting their blades with the elements, that sounds awfully exciting. And of course, the Zora had been able to expand the tradition of armor crafting to include real magical enchantments, not just symbolic gestures."

Zelda: "It's allowed for several international advancements as well. Access to magic as allowed for the postal system and for banks to operate on scales never before possible, between nations. Not to mention the more local achievements made possible by using magic as an energy source, like the invention of the most recent model of pictobox."

Marela: "I've seen those, they can make the picture right there, you don't have to take them to the shops anymore to develop."

Zelda: "But on the matter of the Convergence and so much of modern advancement, we owe significant thanks to the documentation by the Dreeka. Their libraries have cataloged so much of our history, across the timelines, allowing all of this to be possible."

Marela: "I've heard they even have a full account of the Convergence, written by the Princess of the era. And that the translation took over a decade to complete."

Zelda: "I've read a part of it, it recently was returned for revision to the Dreeka enclave here in Hyrule. Perhaps that could be more elucidating for you on the particulars of the past."

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Mark of a Hero (Updates on Tuesdays & Fridays, 1 of 9)

Hyrule is at peace, or so the Royal Family would have its people believe. Something is afoot in the kingdom, and someone needs to do something about it. Least likely would be Marksmen Link Sayre- a mercenary and monster hunter doing his best to get by. Until a job goes wrong, and he gets roped into the secret plans of Hyrule's princess. Now Link must play the part of the Hero to dive deeper into the mystery, and maybe stumble into a legend of his own.

AO3 - Wattpad