#im so silly and sickly

[shower-phantom-ideas]

Danny keeps telling heros his tragic backstory buts just ripped from an old game no one really remembers that he liked. That or an old cartoon he watched as a kid.

Example: One day I just woke up and had this strange pink mark on my leg. I was freaking out but then started noticing all this stuff I could do. All of a sudden I liked fish? And these men would keep popping up and telling me I had to fight monsters. Telling me i was picked for it. I got this neat pendent though.

The league have no idea hes bsing them. But eventually he keeps getting closer and closer to the characters story that someone will figure it out. And I like to think it’s Redhood or Flash and no I wont explain why because if you know you know.

Bonus points if Danny switches it up like once he finishes telling the characters full backstory. Maybe it can become a game with him and the others. Who can guess his reference the fastest. Batman is not amused

[emderperq]

The People liked my owl house art so heres some even sillier somewhat old toh art as i try to cope with the fact that i need to make art to be an artist o7

[meringuejellyfish]

[quadrantbreaker]

kyaaaahhh luke black is so

[aria0fgold]

I said I was gonna take it easy with artfight but somehow I managed to draw a pretty dynamic pose without much difficulty and now here I am... This is the opposite of "taking it easy...."

[lesbianraskolnikov]

Ive never really shipped much myself but i always feared "blorbofying" him would make it seem like i understand nothing and so on and so forth. Well i can understand the book well and get silly with it. Its okay! I do not have to clarify my self..

[shinymoonforest]

*ahem*

AUGHAUHGUGHURGRUHRAURGARUAGRUARGAURGARUAGRUARGAURHRAUGRAUGRUARGAURAUGARUGRGAURUGAURAHURAHRUGARUAG

with an additional

JFEHIERHEIUHEEIEHHEOEHOEHEOHEOEHOEHEOHIEHEOAIHEOIAEHOEHEOIEHOEIHEOEIHEOIHEOEIHEOIEHOAEIHEOAEIHEOAHEEKEEKHEKEHOHKEOKHOEHKEO

and to close off this statement, 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

thank you for your time

uh oh. I can't imagine mixing a virus with a wayward executable can lead to anything good..... what do you mean it just gave him the flu,

FINALLY, at LONG LONG LAST; Thierry's OFFICIAL Lovebug AU rendition! in which the man quite literally gets bugged. with love! & with sick nasty

truly a lesson to all to watch what you download from your emails!

( the lovebug AU concept belongs to @things1do ~ )

[illbegottenfaith]

unadulterated loathing (a what is this feeling inspired fic)

yours and theo's feelings for each other evoke a deeply visceral physical reaction in both of you, for which there can be only one explanation (theo nott x reader)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

a/n - had this idea ever since I watched wicked and so I whipped smth light and fun up prettyyy quickly (I think this is the fastest I've ever writtena fic? then again it is on the shorter side) enjoyyy :)) p.s. im quite behind on my notifs etc cuz of college so if i havent responded to anything pls know its an accident!

tropes/warnings - enemies to lovers, quips/banter, fluff, mentions of injury

word count - 1.3k

taglist - @hzdhrtss @justaproudperson

"I'm afraid the rumours are true," you were saying to Penelope Skeeter, a budding journalist eager to follow in her aunt's footsteps. "Theodore Nott was just so taken by my looks this morning that he promptly passed out in the Hogwarts library, poor thing. The whole school is bereft, naturally, but Madam Pomfrey herself expects him to make a full recovery."

You paused as her reedy-looking assistant snapped a picture, putting on a breezy, winning smile with just a hint of oh-silly-me-for-putting-one-of-Slytherin's-star-Quidditch-players-in-the-Hospital-Wing-but-also-who-could-blame-this-pretty-face.

"You could say I, quite literally, stole his breath."

Your impromptu interview came to a crashing halt as a strained groan sounded from the hospital bed a short distance away. The three of you glanced over to see that Theo had woken up and was now very much alive and kicking.

"Oh," you said, abandoning that affected, simpering tone for one with a noticeable trace of disdain. You thought you'd have more time. "You're up."

"Lies," Theo rasped breathlessly, with all the menace of a kitten swaddled in a blanket, eyes darting mistrustfully between you and Penelope. "Liar."

You tilted your head, your expression as displeased as it always was when it came to Theo. "Aren't you supposed to be dizzy or something?"

"Don't listen to anything she says, especially if it's about me. Strike that all - hang on - "

You watched him flail uselessly in his attempts to sit up, unimpressed.

"I don't think you hit your head hard enough."

"Shut up," Theo wheezed under the stifling weight of the warm compresses laid across his chest, "and get out."

You pouted exaggeratedly. "But you're sickly, sweetheart."

His already pale face blanched at the pet name. "Out. Out!"

For as long as you could remember, you had never gotten along with Theodore Nott. Anything he said, you'd feel compelled to disagree with, and anything you did, he felt compelled to sneer at. The adverse physical symptoms that presented themselves within each other's proximity certainly didn't seem to help matters. One way or another, sparks were bound to fly if the two of you were in the same room.

"It's - it's her - " Theo had spat out at The Three Broomsticks on a Hogsmeade trip in your third year. "She's doing this to me and she's doing it on purpose."

Mattheo had creased his forehead.

"Like a...like a hex?"

"No," Theo had said, distractedly scratching the hive that had appeared on the back of his hand. "It's worse than a hex. My pulse is rushing, my head is reeling, my face is flushing..."

"...oh," Mattheo had said, realisation dawning upon him. "I get it. It's lo-"

"That's it, Mattheo." Theo had interjected. "You're absolutely right."

"I am?"

"Yes, exactly. Loathing is what this is. Loathing." He had swivelled around, hatefully fixing his gaze on where you were laughing over some undoubtedly inane subject matter over butterbeer with your friends. "Unadulterated loathing."

Mattheo had rolled his eyes over Theo's dramatics.

That was years ago. Now, the butterbeer was gone and the inane subject matter was long forgotten, but the two of you were still too abrasive to get along. It was as though you couldn't help but rub each other the wrong way, the way you brought out the worst in each other. The detestation that everyone had hoped you would grow out of seemed to have grown with you, with petty jabs and insults and below-the-belt undermining becoming a regular occurrence between the two of you.

Today was no different. You were spending your morning free period studying at the library with your friends, roaming the bookshelves for anything that could help you with your Defence Against the Dark Arts essay. You'd turned the corner of the aisle, a heavy tome in hand, only to find Theodore blocking your path, his long fingers leisurely tracing the spine of a book like he had all the time in the world.

"Figures," you muttered under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear. "Of all the dark, damp corners in the castle, you'd turn up in this one. Like a bad penny."

Theo's gaze flicked up to meet yours, his expression impassive save for the slight lift of his brow. "Charming as ever, I see," he drawled in his low voice, carrying that familiar bite. "I didn't realise the library was off-limits to people with half a brain."

You narrowed your eyes, stepping closer despite yourself. "Don’t flatter yourself, Nott. If brains were currency, you'd be bankrupt."

His lips twitched, and for a moment, you swore he was fighting back a smirk.

"And yet, here I am, managing just fine without the constant headache of your presence. Speaking of which—" he gestured vaguely at the aisle, "—you’re in my way."

There it was - that repulsive, three-sizes-too-big ego of his. Really, it was a wonder how he managed to fit that swollen head of his through the castle doors.

"I'm in your way?" you repeated incredulously. "You do realise the universe doesn't actually revolve around you, right?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "Could've fooled me," he said smoothly, effortlessly plucking your book out of your slack grip. "You always seem to be in my orbit."

You peered up at Theo from beneath your eyelashes. You tilted your head, your lips curling into an insidious, self-satisfied smile that Theo didn't quite understand.

"Please. You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid."

Theo felt a pang in his chest. His pulse stuttered and there was this nauseating feeling in his stomach. His vision swam, and it was all a bit blurry after that. The next thing he knew, there was an awful lot of shrieking coming from the crowd standing over him. Over him? His hand twitched. The hand that was on the very same rock-hard floor he was lying on. When did he get down here?

He groaned softly as the voices around him grew louder. There was this awful pounding rattling his skull. With considerable difficulty, he cracked an eye open, trying to get a sense of his bearings. Some of the silhouettes seemed vaguely familiar. He could recognise some voices - his friends must have found him. Those looked like Mattheo's shoelaces right next to his face.

And in the middle of it all was you, ashen face with a panic-stricken expression, with a vice-like grip on his forearms.

And then everything went black again.

Madam Pomfrey had come along just then, shooing Penelope and her photographer away. You weren't quite as lucky in your attempt to slip out with them. So now here you were, stoically holding Theo's hand in your slightly clammy palm at his bedside while she checked him over.

She hadn't told you to hold his hand. Theo decided he'd pull away in a minute. Maybe two.

He cleared his throat ineffectively, dry from a lack of water. You glanced at him.

"Admit it. You were terrified for a minute there."

You pressed your lips into a thin line like you were holding back a smile, trying to give the impression of watching Madam Pomfrey.

"You wish," you mumbled out of the corner of your mouth.

Still, he didn't miss the way you squeezed his hand as part of you relaxed in what seemed like relief.

"I know."

You dragged your gaze back to him, shaking your head somewhat affectionately as you took in the colour returning to his cheeks.

"I see you're feeling better already."

"Something about you gets my blood pumping."

Madam Pomfrey stepped away for a moment, leaving the two of you alone behind the screen. You leaned in until your noses were almost touching.

"Are you saying I make your heart race, Nott?"

This close, he can see the faint freckles scattered across your nose, the way your lashes brush your cheeks when you blink, and the flicker of mischief in your eyes. And for the first time in all the years he's known you, he admits to himself that perhaps you might be more than a little easy on the eyes. Especially his eyes.

"Sure," he says quietly, his gaze almost lovingly lingering over every blemish along your nose. "Let's go with that."

Part 2

[starry-bi-sky]

*points at bruce and danny in 'late at night when the nightingale sings'* THESE TWO MFERS MEAN SO MUCH TO MEEEE

no thoughts head empty just these two socially inept fools finding family in one another. like yes you go you funky little death omens stole that one from a comment on the fic, so if you see this you know who you are, discover that family isn't only tied in blood.

bUT onto less mushy stuff: these two being shenaniganizers; tomfools. Bruce realized that Danny didn't actually know he was Bruce Wayne and instead of going "oh actually im bruce wayne" he went; "hrm... how long can i keep this going until he realizes...."

like. i think they deserve to be the sillies. just utter goobers the both of them. like, danny makes the wittiest side comments, dry quips, under his breath towards Bruce while they're out in public (Danny covering his face with a face mask) and Bruce is trying not to laugh. Meanwhile if Bruce makes one sly comment about someone to Danny, Danny's gonna collapse with laughter.

Bruce plays straightman in most of their bits, he has the best fucking poker face. But also I firmly believe he does actually enjoy Danny's puns. Look me in the eyes- look me in the eyes. Try and tell me that a man that willingly agrees to call a car "the batmobile" even after his eight year old ward grows up (thus negating the need to go along with his antics) doesn't enjoy a good, well-placed pun. Look me in the eyes and try to tell me that. That's right you can't.

He's gonna spit out a well-placed pun in the driest, most boring Batman Voice Ever one day while he's getting ready for patrol, and Danny's gonna fucking die of laughter. He's gonna lose his mind. Bruce is going to have a half-dead sickly teenager laughing his lungs out in the chair. That's a new core memory right there, every time Danny thinks about that he's gonna start giggling.

just!!! these two making each other laugh! That's so important to me. So so much. I nEED Danny to get Bruce to smile and laugh and I need Bruce to make Danny do the same. Danny's all snark and sass and Bruce is all deadpan and dry quips. Do you all see my vision.

[womenloverlmao]

Spencer Reid NSFW Alphabet

He's so babygirl

Im not adding warnings or like whats included because this is all over the fucking place and yeah that's nobody's fault but my own but still

Dont like it dont read it, dont complain.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He thinks it's so fucking important, he could probably go off on a rant about it, too. (But let's be honest, he can go off on a rant about anything.) He thinks it creates an emotional bond, shit like that. Even though he's the sub, he does like to take care of you after you take care of him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite (and yours of his) are his hands. He knows he knows what to do with them, driving you absolutely crazy. He also 100% teases you with it too, just saying. He can be insecure sometimes about certain things, but he knows them.

He loves your thighs and tits. Let's be honest, we all know he's a boob guy.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He cries when he climaxes sometimes.

Also he either likes cumming in you or on your tits. (Bro is obsessed with the tibbies)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Sometimes steals your panties, but he puts them back (after washing them) and you don't really notice. He also knows how to hide it so like

This one you know about, he was getting INTO it and he got a work call that he had to pick up while he was still inside you. A couple whimpers were let out when you moved against him and it was so embarrassing but no one besides you two know. they thought he was sick because he is a sickly victorian child

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Bro is not experienced at all, he was a virgin before you, but he knows what he's doing from reading so fucking much about literally everything. Sure, he might be awkward at first, but once he's done it once and is sure you like it he's pretty good at everything.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes when you're on top, but his favorite is when your legs are thrown either around his waist or over his shoulders as he absolutely pounds into you like a bitch in heat.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

there are moments where even when he is balls-deep inside you you both can't help but laugh. he sometimes spews random facts and he can't shut himself up so it can be really a mess but you both love it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It all depends on your preferences. He keeps it relatively short, but if you need it shorter he'll do it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It's 100% Intimate, even if it can be silly sometimes. it's just different, in your own way, really.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When he's on his own in a hotel room and you're back home and he needs you, he'll do it. Most of the time he needs your voice to do so, but he knows when you go to bed, and if it's before that he will call you but if it's not he'll do it on his own. If you send him pictures of yourself? uses them. he won't admit it, but he does.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Mommy kink. I don't need to elaborate.

Orgasm Denial

Overstimulation

B r e e d i n g.

Degradation but only a little, you have to add praise to it and then it's fine.

Kinda like possession?? But not like in a keeping you or him locked up, in a 'you're mine' way.

Hair pulling.

Probably into pegging

Nipple play on you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bedroom. That's pretty much it. He gets to thinking too much anywhere else. He gets too into thinking in the bedroom, how do you expect him to fuck you in a bathroom shawty

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You in his clothes. Dirty talk. Sometimes it's nothing specific, and he's touch-starved so he can act like a teenager.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I feel like he would stay away from bondage after Hankel. Before then, he would be fine, but chances are this all takes place after so yeah no. Same reason for spanking and shit. It may look like he's super kinky, but there are more things he wouldn't do than things he would.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He likes when you give him head but dude would do anything if you let him eat you out. He's absolutely amazing. He has your body memorized, so like

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He can do whatever, but when he's trying to make himself cum (normally after he's made you cum and leaves you super fucking overstimulated but he wants to cum so badly) he's fast and like holy f u c k. but he knows how you like it, so before then it's whatever makes you cum quickest so he can cum. also random but I forgot to put that he always makes you cum first.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Will do them, but prefers having time with you and that shit.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He is but if it's something listed up there it's a no. He could try different things but there are many things that he just wouldn't do.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Can go like three five-minute rounds with breaks in between them, but when he's doing it on you he will probably overstimulate you to no end just trying to make you feel good.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't have anything but if you wanted to do things with them, they could be implanted.

If you got a dildo he would let you use it on him after a little bit of convincing.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Depends on the day and if he's being a dom or a sub, but even inside of those it depends. He leans more submissive and loves to please you, but he is 100% a brat and will tease you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He is l o u d. he can be quiet but he will whimper, moan, whine, beg. (bitch in heat I'm not sorry)

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He loves listening and being the sub while being the top. Like... do you get what I mean?

Also one time he was in you, rubbing your clit, trying to get you to cum and he said 'Did you know about 75% of the clitoris is inside the body' and you actually burst out laughing and yall had to stop what you were doing and like gather everything and make sure you didn't die while he was inside you again.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

6.5 inches, and thick. like, ripping your vagina from the inside out thick. (why am I set on this hill please murder me slowly)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It wasn't high. until you came around, then he is just like EVERY MOMENT OF THE DAY turned on. it's physically impossible, or it should be.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If it weren't so icky in his head he could probably fall asleep immediately afterwards, but he has to clean it up and then he can fall asleep.

[twodimensionalboyfriend]

Sick </3

wc: ~1.3k read time: ~5 minutes

༉‧₊˚.¸♡ master list✧ '*•༉

cw: fluff! smooches here and there i guess! gn throughout! also not proofread lol

I have fucking covid!! my bones are on fire!!!

on a serious note, i have never been sick like this before in my life, i had the worst skin and joint aches i'd ever had in my life and my head felt like it was going to explode with pressure and my ears are still fuckin clogged. so anyways im gonna project my problems into this fic in the order in which i experienced them as a form of therapy and if anybody else is out there sick rn, i hope you have a jason todd to make it bearable!

On a silly note, I met a stray cat in the neighborhood the other day but she's been spayed! im hoping this is the cat distribution system at play

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," you groaned.

You're sitting on the couch trying to convince your boyfriend that you're not sick. It's just allergies! Allergies that come with body aches, pressure in your head, and now a fever.

Jason showed you the thermometer, "Dude, you're running at 100.1..."

You looked at the thermometer incredulously, "Isn't that thing super old? I mean how do we even know it still works? Take it again."

Jason sighed and scanned your forehead again, "Babe, we bought this a couple months ago." He glared at you as he showed you the thermometer again, which now read 100.2.

"Tch, that's barely even a fever," you said rolling your eyes.

"That's it. You're going on bed rest."

"Woah, what?? Jason, I told you I'm fine! Besides I have so much to do today. We need groceries, I have a prescription to pick up, there are so many dishes in the sink, I have laundry to fold and I have work this evening. A little cold isn't... what are you doing?" You cut yourself off as you saw Jason typing on his phone.

"Thanks for the to-do list! While you rest, I'll go and get this done. Grocery list is on the fridge and our pharmacy is in the store, so text me if you need anything else. I am more than capable of doing dishes and laundry, so you don't have to worry about that. And I love you, but you're crazy if you think you're going into work tonight. Text your boss a picture of the thermometer and call out. Or I'll do it for you, whatever you prefer."

"Ar-Are you sure? I mean it's..." You trailed off. You really did feel like shit and it's not like you necessarily wanted to do these errands and chores. After a moment of thinking, you sighed and relented, "Okay, fine, only if you're completely sure you can handle it."

"(Y/N), I'm an adult. If I couldn't do laundry, you should be worried about me." You tried to laugh a little, but it quickly snowballed into a coughing fit, "Woah woah, take it easy. I'm gonna take the list and go to the store. Again, text me if you need anything or if you just wanna say hi," he said with a smile.

Your eyes welled up a bit as you whispered, "Thank you, Jason. I love you very much."

"I love you too, I'll be back soon."

--------

The front door swung open and Jason's voice rang through your shared apartment, "Honey, I'm home!"

You couldn't have gotten up if you tried. You're sickly moan from the couch alarmed Jason, and he dropped the groceries and ran to your side.

You were lying on the couch in your spiderman sweats and a hoodie; your arms draped over your eyes to block out the white lights from the kitchen that added to your headache. Your entire body ached like it never has before. The sight squeezed Jason's heart. "Oh, honey," he said sympathetically, pressing his hands to your cheeks, "Woah, you are burning up! Hang on." He snatched the thermometer from the coffee table and tested his partner. The screen lit up red. It read 101.7.

You mumbled, "H-Holy shit..." It was a bit too much to talk right now.

"Okay babe, I got you some chicken noodle soup because that's what Alfred always made us, and I don't quite have his cooking skills--and this is, uh from a uh... a can--but I'm gonna make some for you, and that should hopefully make you feel better," he looked at you with worry. "Then would you want to watch Pride & Prejudice while I folded the laundry? The movie obviously, since you like it. Even though the show is better," he grumbled at the end.

God damn it. You were crying again.

You were experiencing so many different emotions you didn't really know what else to do. You loved Jason so much and felt so much gratitude for the way he was taking care of you. As if there was nothing else he could possibly be doing right now other than be here. This is on top of the fact that you've been in agony for the past hour as you got worse and worse; and you were really tired of feeling that way.

This shocked and scared Jason, "I'm sorry!! The movie isn't that bad! I just like that the show's more accurate to the book! Also, when Lizzie runs through the rain, why does she grab a soaking wet cloth from the very same rain storm to dry her hair?! I'm sorry I just--"

"I love you so much," you croaked out. "I also feel like fucking garbage."

This put Jason at ease and he kissed the top of your head. "I'm sorry you feel like shit, sweetheart. I do this because I love you too. Like, a lot. Now stop talking and spare your voice. Let's get you cozy and hopped up on vitamin C, and we'll just take it easy."

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

The next morning, you woke up. You sat up slowly and realized most of the pressure in your head is gone. Your body no longer felt like it was on fire! Definitely still congested though. You also realized you fell asleep on the couch after the first proposal, yet you were currently sitting in your bed. Jason must've brought you in. Suddenly, a sneeze crept up and exploded out of you. Then another. Then one more. Jesus, that hurt your chest.

Your fit was loud enough to let Jason know you had woken up. He came into the room holding a spatula. The opened door let in a sweet smell and a sizzling sound. "How are you feeling, baby?" He walked towards you.

"Well I can bear to be conscious, so I'd say much better. What's going on in the kitchen?"

He pressed his hand to your forehead and said, "Pancakes! And lots of orange juice. I don't think you’re in the clear yet. Sit tight; I'm gonna get the thermometer and take your temperature."

Ignoring his request, you got up to meet him in the living room. You stepped out of the bedroom and was met with the sight of Jason discarding the pancake that had burned due to his doting. He saw you walking towards him and urged you to go back to bed, "Go back! I'm gonna bring you breakfast in bed. Pancakes, juice, fruit, the whole shebang."

"No it's okay, let me be out here with you. I'd kiss you good morning, but I fear I might poison you and get you sick."

Jason stole a quick kiss, much to your surprise, "I spent all night with you. If I were to get it, I don't think a kiss would be what seals my fate. You're plate is ready, by the way."

He handed you a plate stacked with 3 pancakes and a butter slice, drizzled in maple syrup with strawberries and whipped cream. It was beautiful, "Oh my god, Jason, that's so gorgeous I don't think I can eat it." Your stomach growled and promptly gave away your true feelings.

"Tear it up, baby girl."

You sat down as Jason finished making his stack. He sat down with you and you both began eating. Pre-packaged pancake mix has never tasted so good.

"Thank you for nursing me back to health, Jason. You've made this past few days in unbearable hell feel more like a manageable limbo."

He laughed, "What else was I supposed to do? Let the love of my life suffer?"

"God I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you in my life."

"Well, fortunately, you'll never have to." He leaned over the table and pressed a syrupy kiss to your lips.

if there are an content warnings you think i missed, please tell me so!! i’ll add them to this post and remember to add them to future ones!! :) ♡ ♡

and pls pls like and reblog and reply!! literally if you interact i will kiss you on the mouth

[bahrtofane]

i dont want to leave

-----

When Jude finds himself slipping from your life. He chooses to leave it completely, for your sake. 

Jude x reader 

Word count - 700+

Watch it - angst angst and angst 

-----

Judes first appearance to your modest little apartment in months turns into him begging and pleading for you to find someone better. 

Someone who doesn't make you wait all day for a reply, someone who isnt in 3 time zones in one day, someone who has time.

Jude has many things, many luxuries and commodities that fill his home and surround his daily life. Fame and fortune that follow him, recognition. Riches.  

Time is not one of them. between games just about every other day, events and press appearances, media days and content recording. He is exhausting every second of his day.

He knows he's not making enough time for you. And now he's begging for you to move on  

Sitting cross legged on your couch, in red and black plaid pj pants and a hoodie he grabbed from his hamper. He made his way to you as soon as he could. Even if it meant after doing a virtual interview from his room, he grabbed his wallet and keys, sprinting out the door.

“Please…” he tries again. His eyes droop and he can not pick them up to face you. Can not meet your gaze. His eye bags look horrid and his skin is taking on a sickly sheen you saw last when he came down with the flu. 

You shake your head, “Jude. listen to what you're saying. You want me to leave because you're busy?”

“I'm saying I'm not good to or for you. I'm never around. I barely reply. I forget things. I never know what you're up to or what's going on. Im shit. And you don't deserve that.” he tries again, keeping his head down and picking at his nails. 

“But I love you. Busy or not.” you sigh.

“And I love you. So much that you have to let me go.” 

“I don't want to leave you,” you cross your arms.

He rubs his eyes. Its been back and forth like this for what feels like an hour now. This will get nowhere if he simply lets this continue. 

He slides a leg from under him, swinging it against your couch, “then I will.”

Your face morphs into one of pain, but he knows you can't keep living like this. He can't keep making false promises and hurting you. No matter how many times you say it's okay. He was late to your birthday for fucks sake. He doesn't know your friends names, do you even still watch that show? He's losing who you are and it's no one's fault but his own. 

He scoots to you, gently taking your hands in his, “I know you'll find someone who treats you the way you need. And I'm sorry I couldn't.”

Tears begin to swell in your eyes, lip trembling as you shake your head, “you can't,” you cry out weakly. But it's too late. 

“I'm sorry,” he whispers, getting up from his seat and gently closing the door behind him, with a little too much force than intended.

The little framed picture of the two of you that hangs on the wall next to the door shakes and wobbles. It only makes you cry harder. 

You remember that day. He took you to the fair, buying you all the stupid food you could ever want. (the deep fried ice cream gave you a run for your money in the bathroom). He won every prize at those silly games. Even if it took him 50 tries and a whole lotta cash to do so. 

There was a little man walking around with a polaroid camera. A sign reading “$2 for a picture” painted in bright green lettering hanging from an old withered string around his neck.

You took 4. 

Your favorite, the one on the wall, stares back at you mockingly. Hands held together while your heads are thrown back, soft yellow and pink light from the ferris wheel behind you painting your faces. You'll need to take that down you suppose.

You want to scream, but instead only tears fall. Can he see he's the one that's meant for you? Busy or not, forgetful, tired, moody, cranky. You love him through it all. Can he see that?

You try to call him, blinking away the tears as you fish your phone from your pocket.  Pressing on the screen harshly and putting it on speaker, but they all go to voicemail. You suppose that's that.

His first visit in months. And he's never coming back. 

[brunetttebaby]

arthur morgan w tb. (ANGST)

he refused to tell you. but his condition was worsening by the day, and it was becoming increasingly apparent that he wasn’t doing well.

so, he became… attempting to distance himself. it would be easier this way, he told himself. but god, did it hurt. to see your smile fall when he refused to talk to you.

like a nervous man, he’d scurry away and pretend like he couldn’t hear you. his cough would disrupt his sleep, and make it difficult to manage daily tasks.

you comforted him. there was arguing, and you just couldn’t pull it out of him.

“arthur, please, just talk to me!” you pleaded through bleary eyes.

“darlin- no. i can’t, okay?” he said gruffly, moving your hand aside.

if he could’ve died without you knowing, he would’ve. eventually, it was clear that whatever this mystery disease was, was eating at him.

his movements became sluggish, weak. micah mocked him for it, and he’d just grumble.

“black lung, you doing alright?” he asked in his sickly voice, blatant sarcasm dropping in his voice. “cause, you don’t look so good.”

the self loathing was the worst part. somehow, in all of this, he expected more from himself. he had never been weak.

he had to be strong. had to be the tough one. had to be the cold-blooded killer he was made out to be.

but it wasn’t possible, not anymore. and he hated himself for it. his inability to deliver in his last few weeks.

the gang was crumpling around him, and it suddenly felt like his fault. he wouldn’t be alive to see young jack grow up, or to see john and abigail wed.

wouldn’t be there for you. you mattered more than you knew. which is why he couldn’t stand the way your eyes looked at him.

full of pity. everyone looked at him like he was a beast, tamed by this awful disease.

all he could taste is blood.

he longed for the taste of you. your soft lips against his own, calming his every worry.

but it was all too late for that now.

he’d spend most evenings alone now, reminiscing. one evening, you approached him.

he sat in front of the fire, glancing up at you. as silly as it seemed, he didn’t want to risk it around you. to be anywhere near you.

but you sat beside him.

he used his fist to cover his mouth as he coughed, the crimson blood coating his fist. he wiped it against his pants, his breath ragged.

“h-hello, miss.” he greeted, his voice rough. “oh, arthur. what’s happened to you?” you asked softly, heart aching at the sight.

arthur sat there, unsure of what to say.

he really didn’t know.

he died on that mountain. not knowing of his purpose, or how much you loved him. not knowing the impact he left on every person he’d met, good or bad.

you cried. for weeks, months, years. you’d never hear him sing by the fire, never see those ocean eyes crinkle as he laughed.

never know what could’ve been if you spoke up about your true feelings.

a/n: …….. i never write angst, like ever. so if this is really bad im sorry 😭🙏

[lovelettersforthedamned]

300 FOLLOWERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🤞+ "im just a girl" with peterrrr -🎀

--word count: 0.2k

--warnings: nothing, but fluff. one cheek kiss, but that's all:)

“I’m just a girl.” You’re lying on his chest while a random movie plays as background noise. 

Peter cocks his head back in confusion, slightly chuckling before he responds, “Uhh, what?” 

“I’m literally just a girl,” your expression is dead serious too, making Peter even more confused than he already was. 

“So,” his eyes darted back and forth, “you bite my arm, I yell out in shock, and then you respond with, ‘I’m just a girl’?”

Thinking about it for a second, just to make sure he got it all right, you respond, “Yep! Pretty much, baby!” You snuggle further into his chest as he decides to let it go, the movie distracting him from the rest of the conversation. 

Fifteen minutes pass before Peter speaks up again, “Wait, isn’t that kind of misogynistic and not cool?” 

You giggle, he’s obviously thinking too hard into the entire phrase, but mentally applaud him for looking out for you and all the women in his life. “If that’s what you’re really worrying about, it’s not I swear. If it was, I wouldn’t be saying it,” you look up at him, placing a kiss on his cheek, “but thanks for being a good guy and thinking about it in more ways than one.”

--author's note: something silly because i say this all the time LOL. another sickly sweet ask from 🎀 anon!! liking, commenting, and reblogging really helps me as a writer btw!! don't forget, i have my 300 follower celebration going on, and if you would like...send something in!!! ok, ily bye<333.

[voidwritesstuff]

Camcorder Stories.

Cw: War being self deprecating. (No surprise there)

Summary: The Four happen to be travelling with a human survivor who is a devoted learner of all things cinema. They're learning about human culture one way or another, even if they dont like it.

>A/n: Inspired by the lovely @darkdemeter and her amazing Darksiders writings. As A film student, I felt like I needed to share all this knowledge that has changed the way I watch films and other multimedia content. To share the hard work involved and the appreciation I have for it :DDD.

The horsemen had no concept of what Film was. Not even Strife,who was the most acquainted with humanity even before the end times.

But now the riders found themselves with a young human who had dedicated a good portion of their years to studying cinema. And much to their chagrin or excitement...

This human carried an old camcorder with them. And with tapes to spare.

Death:

Not even theatre was of particular concern or interest to the pale rider. He was never one for the arts,other than the art of necromancy, so at first he pays the human no mind when they begin talking about film.

"Oh hold on,I need to film this. Stand there at the edge of that cliff...I just need to fiddle with the ISO. So bright..."

Death was just looking at the Valley below,the sickly sun of the kingdom of the dead shone on his cold skin. The warmth was sticky and awful. But hes never been one to complain.

The tall bone towers stood on the far distance on each side of him, a perfect frame of Demise between the reaper himself.

His human companion fiddled with buttons and he could see the lense of the strange device the mortal held. He saw how it opened and closed like a predator's Gaze.

"Okay! There we go. Finally. Please stand there,Im going to do a traveling, then a zoom in And finish on a medium close up...you just stay there like in a reverse shot. " the human made a pause,as if thinking about their words "stay still,look Cool. Back to the camera and look forwards to either of those towers"

Death doesnt know why he indulges in these outbursts of cinematic inspiration. He thinks it helps his companion Keep their sanity..and it keeps them tame and less prone to trouble.

He can hear the mortal slowly walk to him. His ears catch the sound of their footsteps from his right. He can guess theyre putting most of their weight on their heels so they can turn upwards and close in on him to somewhat eye level.

The sound comes from his right to then begin walking a Straight line behind him. Thats the travelling.

This "useless" knowledge of film has been drilled into his mind against his Will. He knew a travelling meant this human would slowly move towards him from either of his sides.

After comes that close up. Those always put his hairs on edge. Like theyre sneaking behind him. He absolutely hates it. Even if theyre not even a threat.

Finally,the medium close up meant the camera would only film from his shoulders up.

He can hear the whirring of the camcorder as it takes in his form.

It cuts when the camera is right on his left shoulder.

"Satiated?" He asked,a gruff in his voice. The annoyance bellows from the base of his throat.

"Very..." he turns to see the human look at their recording"I know you hate doing second takes...I know you think this is silly but...I'd like one more take. Please? . Its not often that outside light behaves,usually its better to do all this in a studio-gives you more controll over the lights and shadows.. but this is almost a golden opportunity.."

He asks himself again why he indulges the mortal on these things. But he looks at how their eyes glimmer at the prospect of connecting with something so tied to them and their people that went on a horrible decline by the hands of things older and more powerfull than them.

And he cant squander their happiness.

Perhaps hes grown soft, perhaps hes intrigued by such arts.

"One last 'take'. Make it count,human"

The smile they give him could melt any Ice. And if the Creator willed it,maybe the one that wrapped his dead heart.

"Okay! Ill do my travelling from the left, then a zoom and finish on your right shoulder. I know theres not much difference but the sun is coming from the left...I think its going to be more dramatic that way!"

Death couldnt help but let out a low,low chuckle"One of these days,I'll make you show me all these things youre...filming"

"Death,after this take I'll show all of them to you. I promise" the human's voice sounds the happiest hes ever heard since meeting them "I think all this Will make a smashing docu-series. Ill give you credits of course, though putting "Special thanks to the literal horseman of the pale horse" sounds a little weird"

Another chuckle left the old reaper "With everything your people has been through,thats your concern?"

The human laughed,a sound so heavenly"Alright,alright,fair. C'mon. Stand there again and We'll wrap this up faster than you can say 'action!'"

Fury

Her opinions could make even the saltiest of film critics cry. And shes not ashamed on telling his human companion how pointless and useless their outbursts were.

But then she saw how cool she looked,and it fed her ego so much she changed her tune.

"Youre going to kill me because of this,Fury. But move to that lightsource there" the human Pointed at one forwards down the Hall of arcane lights they were in.

"Whats wrong with this one, mortal? " the she-horseman asked with her hands on her hips and a little annoyed glare in her white eyes.

"I can tell from how it looks here in the camera that this is an incomplete spectrum lightsource "

"English,human "

The mortal sighed,putting down the camera "Incomplete Spectrum Lights dont do well with colors that are a mix of two others. Your hair is magenta, the middle between blue and red. Depending on where you stand, its taking the color of your hair from bluer to redder. Not a nice look,and not the one im looking for "

She relented and Walked further down the Hall. She raised her hands in annoyance and said "Well? "

"Perfect!! Do something cool with your whip! -Oh I need to change the obturation velocity. "

"...human" Fury scowled.

"How quickly the lenses Open and close to register the image. The quicker it opens and closes the clearer the image of your whip moving Will be"

Fury saw them click a few buttons on their camcorder. The tech was foreign to them,only her watcher seemed to be aware of how they worked. So,when the human wasnt listening, the shadow being explained to her mistress what a camera was and how it functioned.

"There! Ready. Im not sure on what shot to use.."

She did say she didnt care for film knowledge. Shes heard it enough times against her Will but...

"Medium length shot. Didn't you humans call it an 'American Shot'  too?" she asked,grabbing the Hilt of Scorn.

The human smiles,the glimmering of their eyes like theyre finally being acknowledged

"Or 'cowboy shot' yeah. You...you remembered! "

"Just because you said it a thousand times. "

By now,her mortal companion had grown used to her dismissal. "Uh-Huh sure. Ahem, alright. 'Fury being awesome ' take one! And...action!"

Just a few takes later,The human approached the horsewoman and showed her the display screen of the camera. Within it she sees the last take they did, which seemed to be the best one yet.

There truly is an art and a skill to it. How they move about to catch each angle, evading any lightsource that May betray their shadow and ruin the film.

Fury catches the warmth and pride in the human's eyes. This is the first time shes seen them so content. Mortals needed little to be happy.

It made her heart squeeze. She almost felt...guilty for being so critical and mean about this,admitedly, unique art form.

"Not bad. Perhaps you'll even make this into something worth watching" she ruffles their hair to add her usual emotional distance, but the human is inmune to It.

"When I do,you and your siblings are invited to the red carpet premiere. You Better dress your best"

"I never dissapoint,human".

Strife:

The horseman of the white horse loved any and all things human related. Was this his way of making up after his failing at protecting humanity from corruption? Maybe.

Or maybe he just really likes the culture.

Not like he'd tell his human companion about why he seemed so interested in their filming.

"Okay heres a fun bit of info for you. Did you know we had an art form called stop motion?"

"I Didnt know, how does it work?"

He listened attentively as the mortal told him about the millions of variations of puppet models,the replacement, the neat little tricks to make things move and seem Real.

To him,stop motion animation sounded like a real labor of love.

"I had to make one for a class once. It was painful but fun"

"Do you still have the recording?"

"I...dont sadly. We made it on a digital camera and god knows what happened to it after this shit show"

"Oh...".

"But if you give me a few hours we can make one together"

Strife knows himself enough to be aware of his lack of patience. But he accepts the deal if only for the experience.

He sees his human companion,his Friend, work away at making a few tiny little puppets that they can pose. They use pine cones,Grass,rubble, anything that they can get their hands on.

The mortal sets the camera on a rock,making sure it cant be moved. Then, they spent the Next few hourstaking pictures and making the puppets move and do silly little things.

Strife defenetly didnt have the patience for this, but it was all worth it when he saw the animation they made together. How the doll moved about in its little scenario,how the arms hoist up some pebble.

" Ive never done anything like this" he had admitted as he cleaned his guns. This was his way of unwinding. "It was fun, but painful. You sure its not some human torture method?"

His friend laughed,shaking their head as they press record on their camera and begin to move it delicately to drink in all the details of the horseman's hands cleaning the gun

The campfire beside them gave the shot a dramatic light that flickered and danced in a way that made the metal glint. And with a low ISO (aka the camera's sensitivity to light) there was no oversaturation to ruin the recording.

"Watcha doing'?" The gunslinger asked, not stopping the cleaning of his weapons.

"A detail shot. Usually its for props. In this case, the props are your guns." They explained "I personally love detail shots. They showcase the love put into the props by the art department"

"Theres an art department?"

"Ya. Theres also a lights department, writers,directors, producers, special effects- like a fake wound-, a costume/clothes department.-"

"So Many people for one movie?"

"Mhm! I can tell you all about it "

"Sweetheart,we've got nuthin' but time. 'M all ears"

War:

Creator help the human that the red rider travels with. He knows little of things like theatre and magic and tech are a mystery to him in so Many ways. Had it not been for the watcher, the behemoth in crimson would have no clue and think its an elaborate human prank.

"Okay so in a movie,you'd have four stages. Pre- production,where the story and list of resources needed for the film get made. Production,which is getting everything on the list plus actors and catering and a bunch of other things. Filming,the fun part. And post-production, where everything comes together"

War raised his brows in surprise, his expression would have been hidden if it wasnt for the slight widening of his shining white eyes and his voice as he says "I...was not aware of how much was needed for such a  seemingly simple thing"

The human was unaware of the expression he was making,seeing as their back was to his chest. Ruin trode lazily over the broken pavement.

"Yeah! You need a lot. Think about this,you need a scene in a home.." they begin,opening Their camcorder to put a tape within It "you can either make it within a studio- which means making everything from the ground up- or get a house with the furniture inside it "

He listens attentively "Im sure its more complicated than that...You'd need...lights? You have said that. And you told me natural light can be...tricky"

"Yeah!! " they sound so happy at his remembrance "For a home you manage to "borrow" you need to block out the Windows- unless theyre shown in the shot- and replace the light with artificial ones. But you'd also need people and services to haul the equipment to that home. "

They made a brief pause "a big guy like you would be useful. You May have a spot on the industry after all!"

"I dont see myself-"

"It was a joke,War"

"Right"

"Thats joke 1000 and counting" they breathed out,before turning on their camcorder. "Hey...I want a birds eye view of Ruin's head. Can get on your shoulders?"

He sighed "very well. Be careful"

The human climbs on him with ease. His armor provided foot holds and places to grasp. And its not the first time this happened...

War barely registers their weight on him. He looks up past his hood to see them record the sunset,turning side to side slowly in a panning motion.

"Natural light can be finnicky...but things like these can be breath taking...Wonderful shot"

At this,something comes to the rider's mind. "Why do you...record all these things? Arent they painful reminders? Do you do it to inmortalize yourself?"

The mortal looked down and smiled,shaking their head"in film,we tell stories. I want to tell this story...our story" the camera bends down to record him. And he huffs,all afluster.

"The nephilim are not worthy of remembrance".

"But you horsemen are. Your stories are worth sharing. And im making sure they happen. Your voice deserve to be heard"

"What makes you so certain?"

"I...Im not sure. Its just a feeling.."

He saw the way the human's brows knit together. They chew the inside of their cheek and turn the camera to take the view of Ruin's firey mane.

"Wonderful films have been made out of less. Sure,your stories are amazing and interesting- but thats not quite It. We have all seen stories of guts and glory,of massacres...but you horsemen are different. Unique."

"We're the accursed union of Angel and Demon. We're unique because we shouldnt exist "

He feels them kick him with the heel of their foot. "Dont say that about yourself. Good god" they sigh,looking at the sunset "theres nobody in this world like you four, youre unique in a wonderful way. You are a union of angel and demon but youre nothing like them. Youre uniquely independent, in a League all of your own. I seek to understand it I guess-  I want to tell your stories because..."

The words are on the tip of their tongue. So annoying...

And War sounds almost...meek in asking. He hopes of acknowledgement, of being seen, as deep down as that feeling is.

"Because theres simply nothing like you,and I think everyone deserves to know how noble,how kind and how strong you are. Maybe we can even learn something from you for. Your courage and disposition are unmatched. As scarred as you May be,as hurt even...I just think you deserve to be shown and appreciated for your uniqueness"

The rider was unsure on what to say. They are perhaps the only being in existence that appreciates the four in this way. And...he quite likes it.

"No doubt you'll make it far in your carreer" he complimented after a long silence."few beings in existence have the heart that you do..."

He heard them chuckle, their shadow moving as they hook their feet under his armor to stand up and bring their camera further up,showing the low brush and lushness that begins to overtake the landscape. The blue hour fully setting in.

"Will you come watch what I make?"

It was so obvious there was a slight hint of humor. He could tell the human wasnt at all convinced he actually cared for their art.

Too bad he means to show them he does

"To see the fruits of your hard labor? Of course. "

He hears the slight sniffing,he feels the slight trembling..."Ill- ill get you the best- best seats at the theatre. I promise"

War raised his normal hand to wrap around their calf, as a comfort but as a steadying force. "Ive no doubt you'll uphold your word"

[r0t-t1ngxeyy]

*~•`°🌟 LEVIATHAN HEADCANONS

Because he's silly asf

Get it up - Mindless Self Indulgence (A song he'd listen to im not gonna lie)

I think we can all agree he might be on the spectrum autism right??? Right????

He literally info dumps Mc and that's like the first interaction where he isn't stuttering or degrading himself!! He's into TSL, Ruri chan, and that idol group too ig👽

100% chubby. That or if he does work out, probably a sleeper build. But I'm sticking to him being a lil chubby!!

Unlike Beel, he doesn't really work out so the stuff he eats which mostly is junk food (Cup noodles and what not) give into his chub:33 I think he might run around anime cons or work out a bit to impress his stream though lol!!

He definitely streams 100%!! There's probably a whole group of deviltubers he's in as well.

He probably mostly streams fps games, horror games (he's a pussy though), and sometimes shitty dating sims just for a good laugh. This might actually be canon but I don't remember

Pale. Not heavenly pale, sickly pale.

Unlike Asmodeus or even Satan, he looks like a horror game protagonist kinda pale LOLL!!

You'd catch him in his demon form all the time

He just fucks heavy with it. It's comforting actually!! It gives him a sense of strength. A reminder that he's the Avatar of Envy, not just some otaku. So..it's more of an ego-boost lol

Chronically online. Heavily chronically online!!

Ever since the fall, he's been cooped up all his life in Devildom. Soon discovering that an online presence might not be too bad, he dives wayy too deep into the depths for his own good. The internet was his coping mechanism, and still is. Even if he does go outside (every once in a while) he's always on his phone.

So he unironically uses internet slang irl. Ranging from simple 'Omg', 'Lol' to full blown 'backspace', 'F', 'Why are you talking to me in caps'. He swears it's just a joke but his streams prove otherwise.

"That's so cancel worthy"

"Mogged that shit up right there"

Probably an incel (As a joke) (He wouldn't actually)

He watches female streamers, not just any BUT specifically Female Vtubers. It's just so funny to think of holy moly!!! Most of the time he makes fan accounts online as a joke but it can get out of hand