#lazy middle-aged cat man

[nestedfeathers]

your my dad! dad! boogiwoogiwoogi.

[luviestarz]

yang jungwon fic recs!

★ the language of flowers - @soobnny (jungwon’s just every bit in love with the student council president who keeps visiting his flowershop OR in which you find solace in a flowershop, and its owner’s grandson finds solace in you.)

★ GARDENING CLUB MASTERLIST - @snowbabys (you heard jungwon isn’t one of many friends, a silent and closed guy, and it’s not a surprise when he barely blinks in your direction when you join the gardening club. it is a surprise when he starts to show interest in you and does anything to be close.)

★ ❣︎ ⎯⎯ you’re mine . - @goldenhypen

★ infrunami - @jennaissantes (PROMPT: ‘fixing their tie’)

★ LOVE NEWS ! — YJW SMAU - @hanniluvi (BREAKING NEWS! valentine’s is right around the corner, yet you still had no partner. you didn’t think too much of it, you probably thought it was just another year where you’ll be single again. not a big issue at all. however, your favorite gossip account proves you wrong! what if you find out someone actually likes you? after gathering all the hints you’ve been given, you narrowed your list down to one person. that one person ended up being yang jungwon, one of your crushes. there’s no way, one of your crushes actually liking you back? will you believe it’s just fake or actual love news?)

★ ADMIRING YOU ! - @hanniluvi (You've never had good luck with dating. You just couldn't seem to make it work. You were led to believe that was how things would always be. You had no idea but, Jungwon, one of your classmates has been crushing on you for a long time. But because you are you, you never paid attention to him in class. After seeing him staring at you for a time, you finally identify him as a barista at the aroma café. Will anything ever change for you? Will you be able to establish a committed relationship at last?)

★ nice to meet you, boyfriend!◞♡ ⃗ y.jw - @delcakoo (when a strange man approaches you at the grocery store, you call for your "boyfriend", who has just cluelessly entered the store, unaware of his new relationship status with you, a complete stranger. hopefully he plays along…)

★ scaring a guy away - @delcakoo

★ cat boy - @jaeyunverse (yang jungwon is pissed his cat likes you more than him. or, in which jungwon’s cat plays cupid and sets you up.)

★ i’m your cat, meow - yang jungwon - @en-dazed (in which jungwon is jealous of a cat)

★ classmate au | yang jungwon - @soobnny

★ Baked with Love - @demusewriter (You once dreamed of having your bakery where everyone could use it as a safe refuge from reality, similar to the shop from your childhood. It seems to work as one of the famous boy groups uses it to hang out to temporarily escape the spotlight, especially by one member who seems to be fond of the place.)

★ in my head - yjw - @j1nniee (you’ve hated jungwon ever since you two met on the train to hogwarts back in first year; he’s self-centered, lazy, and always coming out for you. now in your seventh year, you’ve been named head girl (woohoo!). unfortunately, the head boy position was given to the one and only yang jungwon (boohoo…). with no other choice, you’re forced to face the annoyingly attractive boy and work with him for the rest of the year - if you can even last that long.)

★ A PIN STRAIGHT TO MY HEART - @snwpcktz (the famous decelis academy confession board is where students pin their written feelings on an anonymous sticky note in hopes of their crush reading it. for y/n, this is the perfect opportunity to finally come to terms with the feelings she has for her classmate--yang jungwon. she has everything planned out, from the color of the sticky note she would be using (blue, it's jungwon's favorite color) to the location she would pin it on the board (smackdown in the middle of the decorative heart the student council put up for valentine's day ages ago). but what happens when y/n sees jungwon pinning his own confession note mere seconds before she planned to?)

★ ⌗ attractive things jungwon does ⨾ - @aakomii

★ super shy - yang jungwon - @en-dazed (jungwon isn’t used to having company when he’s studying - especially when the company is one of the most popular girls in school)

★ ♡𓂃 START NOW ! - @loveywon (you and jungwon never really got along, but one morning you're in bed with him and you both don't recognize the room that you're in.)

[tightjeansjavi]

the feel of coldness only water brings

A/N: so this is the unplanned part two of this Joel drabble I wrote called wildflowers. I just woke up this morning to some lovely reblogs on it, thus inspiring this piece 🥺 oh, and I also thought of @beefrobeefcal and her beefy, fat! Joel fics that are so so good while I was writing this!

~word count: 1.6k~

Summary: you convince Joel to join you for a swim in a lake while on patrol despite his insecurities

Pairing | joel x f!reader

Warnings: implied smut, fluff, angst (so sorry) non specified age gap between Joel and the reader, body insecurities(Joel), self deprecating thoughts, real bodies, natural body changes with age etc, language, teasing, flirting, body appreciation/worship, peepaw!joel, grumpy!joel, sunshine reader, reader has no physical descriptions (outside of wearing a bra and panties) +18 minors dni!

Sweat beads and drips down from the base of his hairline and slowly seeps into the fabric of his shirt, staining the fabric naturally. His steel toed boots stop at the water's edge, soft ripples lapping at the worn leather with a soft audible swish. The lake is crystalline, and beneath the glass surface he sees a million different rocks, all shapes and sizes and textures. The mountain air is crisp, refreshing as he inhales deeply.

The high noon sun blinds his vision momentarily, but he welcomes it. The fabric of his shirt is beginning to grow itchy, scratching at his skin from the beading perspiration. He kicks a stray rock into water, watching as it sinks into the shallow depths.

“Joel.” Your voice carries over the water, your head and shoulders bobbing like a cork in the middle of the glistening lake. “You said it yourself, there’s no infected out here, and the water is so refreshing. Won’t you join me?”

His shoulders tense beneath the fabric of his shirt, his jaw clenches, teeth grinding. He squints, bringing his hand over his forehead to block out the blinding rays, “M’fine here, darlin.’” He chuffs out, “Besides, one of us has to be on alert.” He added, rationalizing his decision.

“Is it because you can’t swim?” It was a safe assumption to make.

He shook his head, kicking another rock with the toe of his boot. “It ain’t that.”

“Okay, so you can swim? Well, then what’s the issue? C’mon, baby. You’re practically sweating right through your shirt.” You said teasingly, hoping to see the corners of his permanent set frown quirk upwards, just for you.

“It’s silly.” He wavered, eyes casting downwards to his boots. “M’just—insecure s’all. Don’t want you to uh—see me like that.” He was never the best with communicating, but he tried with you, and that’s all you could ever really ask for.

“Joel, it’s not silly. If it makes you feel any better, you can keep your clothes on? It doesn’t matter to me because I think you're handsome, and your real body isn’t gonna suddenly make me stop feeling the way I do for you.” You reassured him with a soft smile.

“If I keep my clothes on m’gonna sink like a fuckin’ rock.” He forced out a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck with a huff. “Y’say that now…” he trailed off, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “But ‘m littered with scars, baby. Got grays on my chest and—m’barely fittin’ in my jeans these days. Should probably hold off on extra—”

“Joel.” You sighed, “I’m gonna stop you right there. Cause everything you just described to me?” You lifted your hands up from under the water in emphasis, “is a real fucking body. More importantly, it’s your body. You’re a healthy man, Joel. Your jeans ain’t fitting the same because you’re no longer in survival mode. You’re getting to indulge in a way that you weren’t able to in over 20 years. You're strong, but you're also soft in the right places.”

He doesn't believe you, of course. He would argue that it was because he had grown old and lazy like a house cat. You didn’t give him the chance, however.

“I love how soft and squishy your stomach is. You know why?”

He shook his head, feeling a flush creep up his neck and face,

“Because it acts as the perfect pillow for my head when we’re napping, and I love to grab onto your love handles when we’re cuddlin.’ Love to feel the way it presses into me when we hug. Or when you’re takin’ me from behind.”

“You’re just sayin’ that.” He scoffed.

“Am I?” You challenged him as you pulled yourself out of the water, dripping wet in just your flimsy pair of bra and panties.

“Don’t.” He warned you, taking a step to the side when you reached out to touch him. As if he was a frightened animal shying away. “M’jus’ a fat old man, darlin.’ Don’t gotta lie to me, sweetheart. I can accept the truth.” He was on the edge of snapping, nearly baring his teeth.

“Joel.” You said softly, “stop that. I ain’t have a reason to lie to you. Never have, never will.”

“You don’t have to protect my heart, darlin.’ S’okay. I ain’t deservin’ of your kindness. Don’t know why you even waste your time with a man like me—”

You looped your thumbs into the worn belt loops of his jeans and yanked him towards you swiftly despite his faint protests. “Would you shut up, please?”

Loose pebbles crunched beneath his heavy boots when you pulled him towards you and his hands naturally found your waist, big palms splayed across your damp skin. “Don’t you think you deserve yourself a real man? Someone who—isn’t like me?”

“You are a real man, Joel.” You gently remind him and slowly slip your thumbs from the belt loops of his jeans. “You’re beautiful, and I just wish you could see what I see.”

“Beautiful?” He scoffed, nose twitching when he felt your hands slowly slide up the expanse of his covered chest, “that ain’t me, sweetheart.” He rasped, tilting his chin downwards so he could watch your fingers gently toy with the buttons on his shirt.

“It is you, Joel. And one day you’ll wake up and realize it. And when that day comes, you’ll look in the mirror and tell yourself that you are beautiful, and you are loved, and you are deserving of kindness and softness for as long as Mother Nature lets me have you.”

He could feel himself slowly begin to cave from your words, tears pricking in the corner of his eyes, and he would claim that it was just from the blinding sun and the irritating sweat dripping from his brow. “Don’t know what I did to deserve you, darlin.’ Don’t think I’ll ever understand it. You could have your pick of men in Jackson, and you choose me?” He stifled a chuckle, dipping his chin down further so he could kiss the edge of your fingertips.

“You’re worth more than the whole damn bunch, Joel. Stubborn ass of a man, but I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

“Undress me.” He murmured, swallowing the lump rising in his throat, “M’yours.”

You smiled, dragging your thumb against his jaw and slowly tilted his chin upwards so your eyes could meet, “Remember, it’s just you and me out here. Nothin’ but miles and miles of wilderness.”

“Kiss me.” He whispered, tightening his grip around your hips, pulling you in closer.

Your lips brush, testing the waters before you fully kiss him. Tasting the sweat from his brow that had trickled down his lips. Soft, chapped, warm and familiar against your own.

Your fingers worked the buttons of his shirt open, exposing his skin to the warm rays from the sun. You pushed the strained fabric down his shoulders, letting the shirt fall to the pebbles below. You traced his scars with delicate movements, detaching your lips from his so you could follow the path your fingers created. You nipped at the softness of his bicep, pressing open mouthed kisses that trailed down his arm to his hand. You kissed each knuckle, each callous with your eyes staying locked on his.

You squeezed the soft plump flesh of his love handles, imagining yourself using them as an anchor when you would ride his cock in the early morning hours when neither of you could sleep.

You dragged your nose against the swell of his belly, feeling him tense up before melting into your touch like a pad of butter on a hot pan. You inhaled his musky scent, dragging your lips southwards through the dark hair of his happy trail, pressing a kiss there, too.

Your fingers moved in muscle memory as you undid his belt, tugging his too tight jeans over his hips and strong thighs, letting them pool at his ankles.

He watches your every move, brows furrowed together at the sight of you on your knees between his thighs. He hopes to god there is no danger lurking nearby. He wants this memory etched into his brain for the rest of his days.

He breathes out a strained puff of air from between his parted lips when you press the tip of your nose against the underside of his heavy cock, and the drag of your hot tongue through the strained fabric.

A groan bubbles up his throat, spilling over and he presses his hips into your face, the swell of his belly brushing against the crown of your head.

You giggle, nipping lightly at the fabric, feeling his cock twitch and harden. You watch his eyes roll back, words tumbling out in tandem.

“Do. Not. Tease. Me.” He growled and you giggled at his response.

“If you want more…you’re just gonna have to catch me!” You rose from your knees before he could grab ahold of you, stepping back with that glint in your eye.

“Hey! That ain’t fair and you know it!” He huffed, already struggling to unlace his boots so he could pull his jeans off completely. He cursed under his breath when he watched you dive back into the refreshing waters.

“Gonna get you back for this.” He grumbled to himself, fighting the urge to grin at the warmth that he felt flooding in his chest.

You heard a loud splash just as you resurfaced, and two dark brown eyes locked onto you like a target as you playfully swam away.

Your giggles and his deep, raspy laughter filled the hot summer air like a song that you would play on repeat, over and over again.

Banners made by the lovely @saradika-graphics 💕

Follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications

[brainrotandbedrot]

okay. im a perfume nerd and i just can’t get this out of my head and these are all my own little brainworms so 🤪

perfume scents that every man in the 141 loves.

price is a classy man. but i also think he isn’t a huge fan of anything strong — he likes how you smell naturally. anything light, airy, a little floral but not like grandma rose perfume floral. price is the type of guy i see having fresh laundry scented candles in his house and a “fresh and clean” air freshener for his car. this man is tired and approaching middle age and he just wants his shit to smell good. including you. i hc something along the lines of maison margiela replica’s lazy sunday morning edt, glossier’s you edp, dedcool’s fragrance 03 blonde edp. for something more recognizable, gingham and sweet pea from bath & body works.

i feel like he’d also like chanel no. 5 just because of the name. his mum wore it. it’s sentimental for him.

notes: crisp fruits (pear, apple), light floral (jasmine, rose, lily of the valley, lilac), light musk, milk

gaz loves when you smell like a cashmere sweater. warm, sweet, but soft and homey. he wants to come home and just sit there and sniff you because you smell like a warm hug after a long day (it makes sense in my head okay). he’s the type to come along to sephora and ulta and hold the bottle while you spray the testers and he’ll tell you if something smells good (everything smells good, he likes seeing you smile & he’s paying anyway). philosophy’s fresh cream edp, ariana grande’s cloud intense edp, byredo’s slow dance edp, and skylar’s fall cashmere edp are all scents i think he’d love. i also feel like ivory cashmere from bath & body works is a given.

notes: almond, warm vanilla, berries (juniper, cranberry), cinnamon bark, sandalwood, light musk

johnny. johnny is a man of taste, okay? this man loves a unisex fragrance. (they all do. but like. johnny truly just loves a scent that is just a scent. no feminine or masculine packaging.) literally anything that smells good has his paws all over you. i feel like he’s a woody, earthy scents kind of guy. just smell like a forest and he’s head over heels. like le labo’s santal 33 edp, tom ford’s oud minerale edp, zodica perfumery’s eau de dallas edp, dossier’s ambery saffron and woody oakmoss edp. mahogany teakwood & into the stars from b&bw will also get this man’s heart rate wild.

notes: bergamot, oud, amber, musk, sandalwood, cedarwood, spices (cardamom, ginger), fir balsam

simon is a gourmand man. change my mind (you can’t). this man will get a whiff and have to stop himself from nibbling on you like a cat. or he doesn’t. you just smell too good, love. i don’t think he has a specific preference in terms of general scent, but anything that smells yummy has him drooling. sweet, warm, similar to gaz but more in the food direction than the cozy warm direction. i think le monde gourmand’s crème vanille edp, kayali’s yum pistachio gelato intense edp, billie eilish’s eilish 1.0 edp, sol de janiero’s brazilian crush cheirosa '71 fragrance mist. sweet whiskey and viva vanilla from b&bw are also delicious to layer with.

notes: gourmand (warm vanilla, brown sugar, marshmallow, caramel), amber (and ambery musk), florals (jasmine, orange blossom), nutty (almond, hazelnut, pistachio)

sorry simon’s scent notes are so long gourmand fragrances just have so many and they all smell good

[allikawaii]

The Man With a Red Umbrella – a Homicipher creepypasta-esque story

So, yeah, since like, 20 people or so showed interest in it, here's my try in writing a creepypasta style story featuring none other than Mr. Momo eyes Scarletella in all his internet legend glory. Since the game made clear he was a internet rumor, it makes sense to have stories like these. So I made one!

You know the drill: unseen monster most of the time, dumb teenagers, maybe a cute cat in the middle, narrative with a MC who keeps thinking to themselves randomly with useless thoughts, mentions of blood... if it sounds cringe, it's because I tried to mimic the ones I would read as a teen.

The beginning is a direct quote of the game, just to get the tone :)

1523 words (approximately because I did alter one or two words and I'm too lazy to open the program again)

There's a rumor that's been going around... a ruin that's not supposed to exist, will appear on rainy days.

It really exist.

And then I met him.

"A man with a red umbrella," he is one of those famous online paranormal stories. "He will appear on rainy days, and trap you in illusions which cannot be escaped."

"If you tell him your name, he'll take your soul."

That's how all ghost stories goes...

___

Another Halloween goes and another horror story comes up. I've been dealing with my colleagues blabbering nonstop about backrooms for AGES and I'm tired of the 'no-clip out of bounds' shit. And when I'm finally getting the relief my ears so prayed for, there comes another internet horror story.

"Look, Jade, this one has a image!" Says Emma – part of the 'creepy stories enthusiasts' club that in reality is no club at all and is just a bunch of unoccupied teenagers looking for a spot to smoke weed. "... worse than Slenderman. And Slenderman is OLD." I tell her, not interested at all.

'The Man With a Red Unbrella' or whatever the name of that dude was... another one of those quick online phenomenon Halloween Season-wise. The only thing interesting about the dude, at least in my opinion, is that he is a Japanese urban legend. Maybe he grew in popularity thanks to a increased search for japanese horror movies, or maybe that Junji Ito adaptation.

"They say if you tell him your name, he'll take your soul..." Emma continues despite my clear lack in enthusiasm. "... would."

"EWWW EMMA!" I shove her playfully. Emma and her weird taste in man...

"So... your 'group' is gonna try and find this dude as well?" I asked, despite already knowing the answer.

"Of course! There's going to be a storm by the end of the week, and we'll be marching down the neighborhood until we find his building." Emma answered as obvious as the sun in the sky.

What a strange plans for saying goodbye to High-school, but you do you, I guess. Meanwhile, I'll be inside my cozy house, cuddling with my cat while watching whatever is trending on Netflix. Because who is dumb enough to go inside an abandoned building?

Plus, it is a japanese story, so there's no way he would show up in America of all places.

.

.

.

Outside, it rains cats and dogs, and inside, I cuddle on my comfortable couch while watching Netflix. Popcorn within my reach, I have no need to leave the coziness of my cocoon of blankets. Cotton, my cat, keeps staring out the window, meowing to the rain as if someone was out there. Yet, everytime I look out, all I see is the storm outside and the tree of my backyard.

Figuring this is just cats being cats, I return to my series.

Until that meowing stops, and I look around to no signs of my cat.

"Cotton?" I called out, searching around the house in all her usual hiding spots. Only for my heart to drop as I see the rascal outside, her white fur all dirty from mud as she ran out to the streets. How did she even leave of I closed the pet door??? "COTTON!" I called out as I prepared to leave, fetching a raincoat and rain boots to fetch the troublesome pet.

The rain outside was pouring, unrelenting, as I marched down the neighborhood looking for my cat. How can a small animal be so quick? 

As I walk near the more desert part of the neighborhood, I see the small ball of now dirt fur getting inside a building – an abandoned building at that. "... I'm never making fun of my classmates again." I sigh at the karma I'm currently living, taking a deep breath as I step inside the building.

The structure was nothing like the usual buildings around here, and the insides are unusually clean: no graffiti on the wall, no littering or smell of drugs inside. As if someone has been taking care of the place... or at least preventing others from littering.

As I turn the corner, I see a person crouching, but I can't see who it is as a red umbrella blocks the silhouette. The umbrella seems a tad wet, so maybe the person came inside the building to escape the unforgiving rain... but most importantly, the person is petting a cat. MY CAT!

"Cotton!" I exclaim as my dear ball of fur skips to my lap as I crouch down to pick her up. "Don't scare my like that! Bad girl~" With the most embarrassing baby voice, I swing the small feline in my arms. Finally deciding to pay attention to the man in front of me, I look up to ask about how long has he found the cat.

... only for there to be no sigh of him.

That was creepy... but there was no time to loose: I need to go home. But the moment I turn to leave, I hear noises from the upper floor. As much as I want to admit not to be like thosendumb characters who go straight to the suspicious noise source, my curiosity is greater than my common sense. As I go to the next floor, I'm surprised to find Emma crouched on the floor, hands over her head as if she eas protecting herself from an unseen attacker.

"Emma," I called her out, walking towards her. "What happened? Did you guys smoke too much weed aga-" While casually making fun of her as usual, the moment I get closer to her, I noticed her clothes drenched in water from the rain, and covered in blood. In her hands, is a hunting knife she usually exhibits as her trophy, but now looked more like a murder weapon.

"It's him it's him it's him..." Emma mumbles fast, almost incomprehensible. "He's making me see things, trying to hurt us..." She stops momentarily to look around, as if to make sure no one was around. "He already got the rest, and he's been trying to get me. But I'm not giving up easily and he's been-" 

Emma suddenly stops, looking at me with an air of suspicious. "... how can I know you're not one of them?"

"Eh?" I look puzzled at her. "What do you me- WOOOA!!!" Just as I question her she swings her knife at my direction. But I'm able to dodge before it hit me or Cotton who I still carry on my lap.

Almost as if in a trance, Emma keeps trying to stab me, saying nonsense like "You're not real!" or "Get out of my head!"

After a close call, I end up losing balance and, to spare my cat of the fall, I end up falling on the ground. Just as I think Emma will jump on top pf me and end my life. She stops in place, looking over me and running away. The last thing I heard after she went down the stairs was the sound of someone falling and an unsettling silence. I sit up after the adrenaline runned down from my system.

"Your name," I hear a whisper from behind me. The unsettling calm tone sending shivers down my spine.

"It can't be real..." I murmur to myself, too afraid to look back. I decide to simply try to ignore the presence, stepping up to leave and go home.

"Give me your name," this time, I hear in front of me as I adjusted my posture and looked down. I was able to see when he appeared, his black shoes suddenly in front of me. Damn the human curiosity as a mix of it with fear took me, encouraging me to look up.

The man in front of me was tall, yet his torso was slightly tilted forward to look more on my head level – despite still being incredibly tall, more than 6 foot and a half for sure. His hair was as red as his unbrella and coat that covered almost all of him, and his eyes were hidden behind his bangs. He looked so calm, yet so eerie you couldn't help but want to run away.

"Your name," he demands again, the same calm carrying his posture.

Emma went crazy when she refused, the rest of her group probably is dead... what other choice do I have but to comply? Maybe he'll pity me...

"... Jade." I answered with a trembling voice. "Jade." The man repeated, testing the name on his tongue.

"Thank you." He added, a smile forming on his face. And my hopes go up as I trust chance of escaping this. Only for it to break as he raises his head for me to see his crazed gaze, eyes wide as if he never blinked in his life.

"I take your name, I take you."

As I hear those words ringing in my ears, I start to feel my sense of space vanishing, my vision tainting red untill... nothing.

.

.

.

There's a rumor that's been going around... a ruin that's not supposed to exist, will appear on rainy days.

It really exist.

[angel-of-the-moons]

I’d love to request a sibling/roommates fic with Pavi Hobie and the reader if it’s not too much trouble! All 3 of them are so sibling coded. We all decide “fuck it the rent’s cheaper if it’s three of us LET’S BE ROOMMATES”. Some people think ‘oh that apartment’s gonna be trashed’, nope. We all have our respective chores and have a schedule on who takes the trash out. We love spending time at bedtime doing our own skincare routines and brushing our teeth together (callout for people that say that Hobie doesn’t bathe, that man is one of the CLEANEST fuckers out there). Definitely doesn’t stop the occasional argument of “WHO ATE MY LEFTOVER PIZZA?!” “WHO ATE MY LEFTOVER PALAK PANEER?!” “WHO ATE MY FUCKING LAST SCOTCH EGG?!”

Bugs In A Rug!

Platonic! Hobie Brown x Pavitr Prabhakar x Reader

TW/CW: None!

A/N: Sweetheart I am so sorry this has been backed up for so long, I plan on eating through some of my asks (again) So I can open them up. The ones I don't vibe with might get yeeted (I love you all as well as every request that comes in, but some stuff my brain just can't write! 😭)

🎸🪷🎸🪷🎸🪷🎸🪷🎸🪷

People said the three of you would make poor roommates. That your apartment would be chaotic, messy, and loud just because you were all young and close in age, and rowdy when the three of you goofed off.

Oh, they were wrong in their assumptions. Many looked at you and Pavitr and automatically suggested Hobie would make a mess of your apartment. Oh, no. They were so wrong.

You and Pavitr tended to be forgetful, sometimes leaving little messes in your wake that Hobie would either clean up himself, or flick a dish rag at the both of you until the mess was done with.

Oh, and the food situation. You all shared grocery funds; a sound suggestion that worked out well for your wallets. However... Then came the inevitable "who ate my snack?!" debacle. Pavitr in particular was very protective of his masala cashews--to the point he would actively count each little cashew and write the number on the bag.

A tad excessive, but his determination ratted you out as his "cashew thief".

Almost like how you found out it was Hobie stealing your frozen dinners, and how it was Pavitr stealing some of his jaffa cakes.

Right now, however was a simple, casual day. Hobie had spent the past two hours playing his guitar in his room (soundproofed, thankfully) and you and Pavitr were in your usual hamster pile on the couch, waiting for Hobie to join the two of you for your little communal movie night.

"Hooobieeeeee!" Pavitr said loudly, laying backwards over your side as you scrolled through your phone. "C'moooooooon! We're getting booooooored!"

"Oi, gimme a minute, you twerp!" Hobie called out from his room.

You snicker and wiggle around, purposefully messing with Pavitr's balance as he was draped across you like a lazy cat.

"Hey! Quit it! You're the pillow!" Pavitr laughed, rolling over to pinch your cheeks from behind.

"Nah, you're jush a heavy brat!" You giggle, finally turning your phone screen off as you roll over to try and start to wrestle with him.

Hobie comes out right as you have Pavitr's wrist held in your mouth, and he had your leg in an arm-lock.

Hobie, despite his usual punk aesthetic, was wearing a soft knit jumper that seemed a tad too long--even for his long, lanky frame--some loose sweat pants, and a pink and purple silk bonnet that contained his usually untamed mass of wicks.

He put his hands on his hips and frowned at you two. "Now who's actin' like a couple a' brats? Oh, wait, nevermind, it's always you."

"Hey! You're not funny!" You say, you and Pavitr releasing each other as you begin to reassemble your pile of pillows, blankets, and cushions.

"Oh, please, I'm hilarious." Hobie smirked, flipping you the bird (which you responded with both your middle fingers in return) as he walked into the kitchenette to prep the popcorn and pour out the sweet snacks for your movie binge.

Pavitr laid on his pelly and kicked his feet as he watched Hobie get ready. "Aww! You look so cute today!"

"Do not call me that!" Hobie warned, wagging a finger at him over his shoulder.

"But you do!" You giggle, waggling your eyebrows.

Hobie smacks the bag of popcorn into the microwave and glares at the two of you. "Hey, you two like to keep the damn place as cold as an ice box! I have to dress all warm just to live, you damn penguins!"

"Lizard." You and Pavitr both say without missing a beat. And immediately after you and Pavitr high-five and joke about one owing a pop to the other. Hobie just scoffed loudly and took the bag of popcorn from the microwave, shaking the bag up a bit so the butter spreads, and grabs the bottle of "movie theater butter" the three of you were so fond of.

You and Pavitr turn to the TV and you snatch up the remote, scrolling through films to watch.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Pavitr asked innocoently.

"There's this one movie--the dude in it sounds just like Miguel, I swear!" You say, signing in to your streaming profile to find said movie.

"Ugh," Hobie groans, plopping down onto the ground next to you and your tanned, golden-retriever of a friend. "If he acts like him, I just know the movie is gonna suck."

"No, no, no!" You refute. "He's actually funny and like, he's a pilot or something."

"Fine, fine." He sighed with a lazy smirk, holding the popcorn bucket out to Pavitr for him to grab a handful of the crunchy, popped treat. You meanwhile snagged one of the lemon drop creme cookies he'd set down in between all of you as the movie's opening credits begin to crawl.

It was your first time ever watching this "Star Wars" stuff.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Pascal characters' fave sex positions

It's probably been done before, but let's have fun. Doing (heh) the ones I've written.

Frankie. My boy wants eye contact. Would be into tantric sex, if he only knew what it was. Favourite position is lotus. You on top, but both of you doing the work. Slow and intimate, both hands free to roam and caress. Kissing, or foreheads together as you rock gently in rhythm. Plenty of opportunity to go harder, if need be. You gorgeous tits near his face. He's in heaven.

Javi P. From behind. Duh. He wants it hard and fast. Even when it's serious, and he's opened up to you, is devoted to you, and has started to heal from all the shit that happened in Colombia, he needs to lose himself in the grip of your cunt, the sweat running down his body, your wails of pleasure, the way your pretty ass bounces with each thrust. The messed up lad has some issues but knows what he likes, ok?

Ezra. Anything goes as long as your legs are on his shoulders and you're holding on to something for dear life.

Dieter. Amazon. Hoo boy does this babygirl love to be fucked by you in that position! Legs akimbo in the air, you bouncing on his dick like he's nothing but a sex toy to you. That's the good shit. He's gonna marry the fuck outta you.

Mando. One day he wants to be able to remove his helmet and have really intimate missionary sex with you, but he's not there yet, poor guy. Until then, the touch-starved little critter has to make do with the next best thing: your soft, round ass. God, it drives him wild to see that ass bounce. His favourite, therefore, is you reverse riding him. He mourns the fact that he can't gaze into your eyes and bask in the pleasure that he sees in them, but he is a patient man. He'll get there, eventually. For now, he enjoys the fuck out of your slow ride or energetic bouncing, your beautiful butt there for him to grab. Tin can man needs softness in his life, okay?

Marcus M. This is a man who will lie next to you and kiss and caress you for three hours straight before he slides into you and fucks you slowly on your side. It's not the most practical position but he wants both of you to be comfortably reclined, and in full body contact. At some point you're just sharing limbs and there is no telling where you end and he begins. It's really nice.

Joel. This middle-aged, broken piece of sweet, competent garbage fucks hard and fast because death lurks around every corner and this time could be his last. He'll dig so deep into you in missionary that you're sure he'll reemerge with gold or something. You always walk funny after. His knees always hurt. It's worth it.

Pero. He will have his dick sucked, thank you. The women he gets involved with are unsanitary and he doesn't need a new itch down there. Learn that the hard way. (Feral lil shit never stops to think about how often he washes his dick, though.) He will fuck a pair of nice big titties, too. No woman ever got knocked up from having her face painted white, if you catch my drift.

Dave. To suburban murder daddy it's not so much the position as it is the location. He loves danger, and lives for any kind of risky fornication he can think of: Walmart's parking lot, in the backseat with tinted windows, restaurant bathroom, his home office during a phone conference, the cinema, Thanksgiving dinner at his parents' house... you get it. He is the fingering king who can get you off with the crook of one of his fingers faster than any vibrator, before he presses you up against the wall or bends you over to fuck you fast and hard, before people start to wonder what's going on.

Oberyn. Hanging upside down in a trapeze or some shit. King is an athlete. Don't let the constant eating and lazy cat-in-a-sunny-spot manners fool you. He's just fuelling up.

[thelampisaflashlight]

Everything Goes On Pt. 4

[Aether leaves. Not suitable for younger audiences. Previous Part Here.] Below the cut.

"...What do you think about getting married?"

It had been a lazy summer afternoon, and the two of them had practically glued together by their sweat soaked skin as they lounged by the lakeside.

"What?"

Dew's lips had look so soft as they hung open, a look of confusion on his face.

Aether remembers them tasting even sweeter as he kissed him.

"I said," he chuckled, peppering kisses across his face until Dew squirmed at the attention, "What do you think about getting married?"

Dew laughed.

"No way." he'd said, breathless, "We're not even bonded yet, getting married seems so..."

"Human?"

"No, getting married sounds..."

Aether spins the ring he bought for Dew round on top of his dresser.

It's the last thing of the other man's things he'd found lying around in their bedroom, having gotten lost beneath the bed after it fell off of Dew's nightstand ages ago.

For the longest time, Aether had thought he'd misplaced it on purpose.

He hadn't been big on wearing it around to begin with, so even though Dew had seemed sincere when he apologized for not being able to find it... he hadn't believed him.

He hounded Dew about what he did with it for ages, insisting he wasn't mad, just disappointed.

The constant prodding had eventually worn Dew down enough that he cried and pleaded with Aether to believe him.

He didn't.

But he eventually let it slide, buying Dew a new ring and tell him to never take it off.

All the while though, Aether couldn't shake the feeling that Dew was lying to him.

And now he's standing here with clear proof that he didn't.

Aether watches the ring slow and begin to wobble.

"Sure, what the Hell?" the Dew in his memories smiles, flushed down to his chest, "...But not until we're bonded!"

Aether feels a twinge in his chest.

"I'm sorry I said all of that." he tells the air, "...I'm sorry I ever said I loved you."

Dew doesn't come to say goodbye to him with the others when he leaves that afternoon.

Aether hadn't expected him to, but a small part of him had hoped, maybe, he'd get to see him one last time before he left.

The car ride to the airport feels less fun than he remembers, it's not the same without Dew fidgeting in the seat next to him, checking and rechecking his carry on to make sure everything's inside.

Zipping and unzipping pockets just to peek inside at his wallet, his passport, his phone...

Aether spares a glance at the empty seat beside him.

Thinks about how Dew hated riding in the backseat because it always made his stomach turn sour, but how he'd fight through it just to spend more time cuddled up next to him.

And...

.

.

.

Dew makes himself scarce once he sees Aether get into the car.

He'd decided to watch from the window, not wanting to come out as say goodbye, but not wanting to miss seeing him leave.

Swiss of all people had tried to talk him into it -seeing Aether off- but when Dew remembered what the multi-ghoul had said about him...

"I don't have anything left to say to him, so..."

And yet he still had courage enough to watch from a distance.

Courage... or, maybe, he's simply too numb to feel the pain of watching the love of his life leave him, possibly for good.

Copia will be summoning Aether's replacement soon enough.

Sunny's, too, though she won't be leaving for another month at least.

Dew wonders if it's not too late to tack on an extra summoning ritual and send him back to Hell for good measure.

He glides his fingers along the wall as he makes his way back downstairs to the dorms.

In another world, he's leaving the abbey with Aether.

They're going to start their life together, properly this time.

They buy a little house in some place in the middle of nowhere, somewhere where they have a yard so they can have a dog or seven, and a cat.

"Why so many dogs and only one cat?" Aether would ask him.

"Because the cat's the boss." he'd say.

It'd be a fat orange thing, like Garfield, but he'd name it something silly like Tomato.

"But it's orange, not red." Aether would tease.

Dew would get fake mad and pout about it every time, but at night Aether would snuggle that same cat and call it his little Tom-Tom and give it kisses, because, really, the cat is the boss.

Instead, Dew is standing in the doorway of his old bedroom, trying to imagine what the empty room looked like when it was still full of their things.

He leans on the doorframe and catches something shiny sitting on the dresser, illuminated by the light of the hallway.

He'd recognize the plain gold band anywhere.

Dew decides then that there's only one thing he can do...

Walk away.

.

.

.

Mountain has known Dew for a very long time, albeit only a smidge longer than he's known Aether, and if there's one thing he's come to learn about the ghoul over the years, it's that for all his rage, for all his fire, his sadness leans more to the cooler side of things.

His grief is a steady stream.

It does not stop.

It can be diverted, as one might change the flow of a river, but in the end the water will always follow the path of least resistance.

The one that leads Dew to isolate himself.

Mountain can hear him.

Moving about in his room.

It's hard not to, the wall between their dorms is terribly thin, sometimes Mountain thinks he can see his shadow through the drywall.

Of course, he tries not to listen.

Closely that is.

Dew talks to himself.

Never anything... worrying.

Just, little things.

"Where is my pen?"

"Did I blow out my candle?"

"It's in my bag. My wallet is in my bag."

And then there's the door.

Dew opens and closes it exactly three times before he leaves his room.

He can hear him twists the handle.

Can hear the soft click of the latch slotting itself into place, followed by the slide of it out of the hole.

Once.

Twice...

It's repetitive, but it's consistent and doesn't bother Mountain in the slightest, not really, knowing it makes him feel better.

The hiccups though...

That's the thing that worries him.

When Dew first arrived, he had a habit of forcing himself to let out little bubbles of air from his throat.

More of a nervous burp really, but nine times out of ten the little air bubbles would catch and make him hiccup.

He'd do it so often it would give him headaches from the constant jump in his throat.

Once he found a different outlet for his anxiety, he stopped.

But now that he's living next door to Mountain, the older ghoul can't help but wonder if he ever really stopped, or just got better at hiding it.

For obvious reasons, he'd never been privvy to the goings on in Aether and Dew's bedroom, but he has to imagine how many of Dew's habits continued behind closed doors.

How many of those self soothing rituals had Aether witnessed and thought of as a bother?

How often did he tell him to stop?

Did he ever get annoyed by them or tell him he needed to hide the way he fidgeted in public?

A hiccup draws Mountain from his thoughts.

Sharp and painful sounding at this point.

"Fu-HIC-uck."

Mountain gets up and grabs one of his water bottles from the space under his nightstand, heading to the bathroom to fill it with cold water from the tap.

Hic.

He closes the lid and slides on his slippers before going over to knock on the wall.

"Hic-Hey-hic-ow..." Dew replies, wincing, "So-HIC-orry."

"Meet you in the hallway?" Mountain suggests, "I have something to tell with that."

"...S-HIC-ure."

Mountain shuffles outside, meeting Dew, who's standing half in, half out, of his room.

Hic.

"Here." Mountain holds the water bottle out to him, "It's cold."

Dew takes the bottle and stares at it.

"What's in h-hic-ere?"

"Magic potion. Eye of newt, leg of frog, with a sprinkle of mint." Mountain deadpans, laughing a little when Dew gives him a dubious expression, "Just water. But like I said, it's cold. It'll help."

Dew unscrews the lid and take a long sip, gasping for air when he finally stops drinking.

"You don't need to chug it..." Mountain says, watching him breathe, "So, uh... What have you been up to in there?"

"Copia gave me..." he takes another long drink, "...songs to work on..."

"Oh?"

Dew nods.

"Anything you can share?"

Dew shakes his head, mouth full of water, and then swallows it down all at once.

"You really have to learn how to drink slower." Mountain hums, "Little sips or your hiccups will never go away."

Dew sticks his tongue out at him, but complies.

"...How are you..." Mountain starts, "How are you feeling today?"

Dew twists the cap back on the water bottle, rolling it back and forth in his hands.

"I'm not really." he says, pointing at himself when Mountain tilts his head, "...'s a numb kinda day."

"Ah."

"Yeah."

Mountain scratches the back of his head.

"Want to go for a walk? Fresh air might help..." he offers, "And it's not as humid as it's been the last few weeks so..."

Dew holds the water bottle out to Mountain.

"I... I appreciate the offer, Mount, but... Well, the siblings have already been talking shit about me since they found out about the break-up, and I think... I think if they saw me hanging around anyone solo they might assume..." he trails off, "I... maybe some other time. We can go out with the others, assuming they don't hate me for making Aether leave..."

"Dew..."

"Thanks for the water, Mount." he says, stepping back inside of his room, "...I really do appreciate it."

Click.

...Click.

...

Click.

[lildoodlenoodle]

Something we see as the noir comics progress is a return to or a bad forced reflection to the 616 universe, but the noir characters are fairly different, with different life experiences, and motivations than their 616 counterparts. By forcing the same relationships and dynamics onto these characters we get a picture that doesn’t make sense, because they are not the same characters, and, ultimately leads to, lazy and bad writing. This is most evident to me in the romantic relationships, specifically the noir spideycat relationship.

Ok so, they have Peter, who’s implied to be a teenager in the 16-19 range(likely on the younger end of that), and the writers have him sleep with Felicia Hardy, an adult, who is implied to be anywhere in the 30s-50s range(likely in early to mid 40s), his boss and sudo father figure’s (who died 8 months ago)ex long term partner/girlfriend. And this is how they draw Peter’s reaction to her coming onto him:

GIRL he looks HORRIFIED and shocked why why why. Ughhhhh. I genuinely cannot tell what type of emotion they were going for. And the only people I’ve seen talk about this specific reaction were like ‘That is the reaction of a panicking gay man’ which maybe, but also A CHILD.

Then, the reaction the morning after also kills me cause Peter’s like ‘so we’re boyfriend-girlfriend now’ because he genuinely thinks that’s how that works and Felicia laughs at him cause she knows damn well it isn’t. That really highlights to me the difference in maturity, vulnerability, and age inbetween these two and it killllssss meeeee.

AND ITS NOT EVEN IN CHARACTER FOR FELICIA! In like Ultimates(?), 20 smth her kisses masked teenage Peter but after he mentions being in high school she freaks the fuck out! And has a general reaction of disgust! Like ‘Ew OMG I cannot believe I kissed a High Schooler’ and then she leaves!(and her noir design and story was so cool, like she wasn’t the black cat she was the WHITE WIDOW and an entrepreneur and it was so cool and THEY DESTROYED IT ALL FOR A BAD ‘LOVE’ STORY(there’s also the whole MJ Felicia lover foil but different post same vein))

Cause I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, the writers either forgot what their ages were, didn’t care about the implications, or didn’t understand what the implications were of having a teenager sleep with a middle aged woman. And maybe part of it is the teenage boy and his friend’s hot mom or hot teacher gag/trope we see a lot in media that is considered to be more socially acceptable than if the genders were reversed. And I hate the general disregard for this sort of thing. Cause grooming and sleeping with older people as a teenager does cause trauma and does change how you build and handle future romantic, and especially, sexual relationships!

Tbh this one of the bigger problems I have with basically all of the Spider-Man Noir comics, they give Peter(and MJ) all this trauma and complicate relationships in certain ways and then they never talk about it or do anything with it as if it doesn’t affect them AT ALL or didn’t EVEN HAPPEN. It’s undeniable that a lot of, not only the trauma, but why the trauma isn’t talked about is because of the need for the 616 parallels.

[themonsterthing]

Sunrises and Solo Polyamory

Today I met god.

I don’t normally eat breakfast, but this sweet middle-aged Italian man pushed the freshly plated bread pudding at me. It was a faintly steaming, overwhelming pile of blueberries atop a moist cake layer. A stronger man than I would have crumbled. “Try it!”

I took a bite. I died.

I came back to life, and the Italian was beaming at me. “Yes? Yes!”

This morning I woke up obnoxiously early. I am hitting that old person stage of life (at the ancient age of 36) where you get up hours before everyone else, so by dawn, you’re cranky about no one else being ready to do anything. So I laid in bed, read a chapter of my book, and decided to go find the sunrise. I wandered a pre-dawn empty pier, stumbled upon some enthusiastic elder humans (see? my people) splashing into the freezing water in the fog, their little brightly coloured buoys bobbing after, the only signs they ever existed in this ethereal landscape, before I went to treat myself to sugary caffeine at a nearby bakery.

Bakers, swimmers, and photographers: sacrificing the comfort of a warm bed for our joy in life.

I left heaven clutching a to-go container of pure joy and one perfect hazelnut latte, and drove to the top of the mountain to eat it and watch the fog roll in.

And this, my friends, is why I identify as solo polyamorous.

Solo polyamory is an oft misunderstood branch of non-monogamy. It does not mean I am single but polyamorous — which is often how it is used, even by those who should know better. No, what it means is that, no matter what, I come first. Well, let’s be real, it’s my cat, my art, and then me. The definition of solo polyamory is that our first partner — our “primary” — is ourselves. Even when entangled, we come first.

This does not mean you’re not responsible for your emotions and how they affect others. To be a good human means community, and care. It does not mean I always prioritize my own needs. I am really good at empathy, at compromise. It just means that in considering how I interact with others, I negotiate from that framework.

What that looks like, in my life, is that I live without a partner, and while that may change eventually, I don’t want it to currently. And if I did, I would always need my own bedroom. Why?

Because I want the ability to wake up at 5am, read a chapter of my current book, then decide I want to go watch the sunrise — without worrying about someone in bed next to me. My cat may grumble, but he grumbles whenever I’m not in bed with him. (He’s pretty codependent.)

I want to prioritize sunrises, books, adventures, my cat.

Does it mean I don’t want to wake up next to my loved ones? Not at all. I do. I love it. But instead, I don’t want to take it for granted. I don’t want to get so comfortable, to expect their presence, that when they do choose to sleep over, my priority becomes cuddling up with them. I want my moments with them to be intentional, to be important. The trade off is not getting comfortable and lazy with a person because you know where they’ll be most nights. But that is a trade I find desirable.

I want the interactions in my relationships to be an active choice.

This is a choice I make because of trauma, I know that. Does it make it wrong? No. It is right — for me. Is it your choice? I have no idea, I’m not you. But I hope whatever you choose is healthy for you.

I want sunrises without worrying I’m disturbing my bed mate. I want to listen to music at midnight. I want to go alone to the museum, to wander undisturbed — unless I choose to do it with a companion. And then I get the joy of their presence being a choice, being intentional. I will never take it for granted, because I know it was not a given. I had to reach out, schedule, organize time with them.

It takes more effort, but that is an effort I want to give my humans. And if I need to have a quiet day with someone, where we just sit next to each other in comfortable silence, I can have that too — I just have to ask.

I am not saying it is not possible to find someone perfectly aligned, who would give you comfortable lazy mornings, and wild adventures. I just don’t want that. I don’t want just one. I want wildly different brains, different perspectives, different ideas, different backstories. And thus, polyamory.

The beauty of polyamory, of the way I live my life in general, is that no one person fills all my slots. And so it means I have a lot of room for everyone to find their own niche. Some, it’s sitting quietly. Some, it’s laughing forever over stupid internet jokes. Others, it’s wild sex. Some fill a lot of slots — I often have partners who are sex, love, friendship, adventure — but maybe not art. Maybe not getting excited by plants. I want everyone to flourish in a way that feels best to them, and authentic to our relationship. I am a wildly varied human — I have lots of space for others. And so when I have a space I feel longing for, I reach out to a friend who might fill that need.

Conversely, my friends know the spaces I can take up; the spaces I avoid. I am not your bar friend, but I am your ocean friend. I am not your gossip friend, but I am here for deep conversations at 2am about the meaning of life.

So I choose scheduling over comfort, over ease. I choose to make a lot of effort, I choose to have a deep love affair with my calendar. I choose intention. I choose sunrises, and delicious blueberry bread, and delighted bakers.

(Originally published on Medium, this is the sunrise I found.)

[mxsticmess]

Saeyoung Choi needs his “cringe phase” (affectionate)

Saeyoung never went through any kind of formal education until he left for the agency and went to college. No high school, no middle school. Conclusion: he needs to live through a cringy (/pos) phase in his life to truly develop.

a. i use the term cringe affectionately here. this isn’t negative at all, just for fun :3c

b. does this mean he’d do all this now? post se/any route, or is it all hypothetical? idk, but i like seeing my boy all silly and nerdy

when he was younger? fnaf kid. actually no he’d still be a fnaf guy. i bet he identifies with michael (having an evil dad and guilt over younger brother)

also secretly relates to sans undertale. silly funny hoodie man who’s lazy and jokes around but secretly would kill for his brother? this man cannot deny it

he’s totally that kid that was exposed to the internet at a way too early age and was exposed to stuff not age appropriate for him because there was nobody to guide him

creepypasta kid. loves the gaming creepypastas like sonic.exe and ben drowned

i hate to say it but probably has a reddit account with a bunch of throwaways. also had ifunny for a period of time.

not typical cringe but omg he’d love SCP. convinces yoosung that several of them are real and probably writes a few

WAIT HOW COULD I FORGET. WARRIOR CATS. he’d get so into those books it’s unreal. those books never leave you i bet he still has a firestar meowy lying around somewhere

[irlcats-bracket]

Bracket 2 Round 1 Poll 15

Lyovushkin vs Harvest "Harvey" Loaf vs The Phantom Havoc

LYOVUSHKIN

he is submitter's beloved. he used to be a stray but he is now in a shelter and they're teaching him how to be less feral

HARVEST LOAF

A chimera tortie submitter's husband & them found in the middle street in a sad excuse for a city in New England in the middle of the night on their way home from their husband's birthday dinner. He was a lanky 1 yr old teenage cat at the time. Now he is a bowling ball of a middle-aged man. He's an absolute baby, a cuddle bug & papa's boy, a cranky little toddler, a chatterbox who lives to yell & complain & sometimes just meow back & forth conversationally. He's lazy & clumsy & bad at jumping, so treat motivated that he taught himself a trick from watching submitter and their husband teach their roommate's dog(they're so serious), now that he knows tapping your hand will get treats, you just get slapped at any point. Mistakes were made. he's too stupid to kill a mouse but so good at finding & catching them & putting them on your pillow, live… Everyone who has ever met him has sworn they would die for him except the worst person submitter has ever lived with, who hated his own pets as well.

A lovely fat little man, who is stupid and smart all at once, and loves to scream and never eats his breakfast?!!!! He is rotund, a regulation bowling ball weight, and is a love bug who will cuddle under blankets with you or lounge in the sun.

THE PHANTOM HAVOC

MENACE. Her favorite pastime is destroying your plants and screaming. You ket her outside and she gets knocked up. You keep her inside and she knocks over your plants. Her sweet little face is a LIE. Chaos teen.

[oonajaeadira]

Random question is about style-- what is your current style and is what you wear every day in keeping with it or do you only get to walk it out on certain occasions? (Inspired by a convo with a friend where we said we grew up but never got to fill our closets with everything we thought we would)

BLUE.

Man, my askbox got neglected while I was gearing up for my week away, sorry.

I've gained a bunch of weight in the past couple of years due to some laziness and health issues and anti-depressants. I don't mind other than the fact that its wreaking havoc on my back and the older I get the harder it is to take off the weight so I really just have to focus on beefing up my core muscles to deal with the extra....

Anyway. That's all to say that the other thing that sucks is that I'm growing out a bunch of my clothes and that sucks because I like my clothes.

Mostly these days I wear a bunch of printed shirts from Redbubble--Camile Chew designs, Mando and Prospect insider symbols, witchy memes, 80's style Anubis graphics. And then I have a couple pair of these linen overalls AND I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. Pair them with a long black cardigan covered with stars and the brightest footwear I have--80's style New Balances, burgundy suade hightop Vans, these atrocities--plus a lot of dangly acrylic earrings, witchy necklaces and rings, crystal bead bracelets... Combine it all with cat-eye glasses and a messy updo, I'm going for middle-aged hippiewitch and/or female Dieter Bravo.

It's great.

But sometimes it's just wacky and warm sweaters and skinny jeans and riding boots... whatever I effing feel like in the day. I work in the arts (and sometimes am the only one in the office) and therefore nobody looks twice when I dress like a sloppy goth or a garden witch or a Steven Universe character. I have a set of skeleton PJs that are practically my uniform in October. The day I got this job and walked out of the for-profit world I threw all my business casual clothes in a bag and took them to the Goodwill.

[chaewberry]

pairing; kavetham

tw; mention of nsfw, nothing descriptive, crack.

The house next to them had finally been bought. The little old lady which now lived next door with her silver hair and mellow brown eyes, had greeted them one warm spring morning as Kaveh and Al haitham were exiting the front door, both tugging at the two keys entangled together again.

And, looking back, maybe it was that instance which allowed for later miscommunications to occur. It wasn’t often that the two left the house together — or left the house altogether in Kaveh’s case, and that morning Al haitham had made breakfast for the both of them while Kaveh prepared the coffee. Each of them was tugging at his own key when the cheerful woman came up to them, offering a hug and a warm greeting, smiling a little too brightly for the early hours of the morning.

The first few months she had seemed like any other normal middle aged lady that occupied herself with gardening and reading (only it wasn’t as much as reading as it was falling asleep on the veranda, basking in the sun like a lazy cat). However, some weeks prior Kaveh had most definitely seen her scaling the fence to steal a couple of apples from their other neighbours, winking like a small fox when she caught him looking, scandalised. 

Then, a few days prior, there was the matter of her laundry spot, which was set to be directly next to theirs. Al haitham had the nerve to tease him about a red thong he found after he had finished picking up their laundry from outside — that man had waved the offending piece of clothing at Kaveh’s flashed face and had the nerve, the audacity even, to proceed to fuck him into the matress.

Who knew such a man was afflicted by such a mere concept as a thong.

(Kaveh did not buy a fucking thong the next day. He did not!)

Later, when Kaveh returned from the café, their little neighbour (gods, how did that tiny woman even manage to scale that wooden fence was beyond him) came bouncing up to him, looking bashful for the first time ever and explained what had happened. “Tomio is a playful little thing, doesn’t know boundaries, you know?” 

And just as Kaveh was about to say “oh, you have a cute little toddler lying around?” in order to make small conversation and make this whole affair less awkward, the fattest, most atrocious looking cat he’d ever seen prowling the streets of Sumeru came up swaggering in between his mistress ankles, purring something awful and definitely trying to kill Kaveh with that nasty one eyed, mashed face glare he was giving the blonde. 

Kaveh, naturaly, faltered. “Mh, cat.” Something so profoundly stupid, he was ashamed of himself. What was he supposed to do, question the woman’s sanity and taste in pets? Besides - he chided himself later on - who was he to judge the beauty in the eyes of the beholder? Maybe that lady truly loved her ugly, fat cat. 

He couldn’t resist digging into his roommate, however. “My, Al haitham! Perhaps you should check for familial relations?” 

He paid for his insolence later that night too.

The next time he saw eccentric neighbour was when he was in the market, buying fresh vegetables and chicken eggs to make sabich sandwiches for him and Al haitham (he tries very hard not to think about him making Al haitham food while waiting for the letter to come home from his recently acquired position of acting grand sage) when he catches silver hair from his peripheral vision.

"Mr. Kaveh!"

And there she was, walking up to him with a basket filled with items into the crook of her right elbow, while the other was holding little Tomio's leash who was currently eyeing the recently procured fish in Kaveh's grasp with fervent interest.

And wouldn't that be a funny story? Hey Al haitham! No samak mashwi this week! Our neighbour's incredibly cute cat attacked me and stole them away from my bare hands. If that man hadn't kicked him out, he surely would now — or make him sleep on the couch for a week straight, at least, murmuring about wasted money and the like.

Blood had been shed for less.

"Please, take this."

Suddenly, as if she had whipped them out of thin air, his neighbour had shoved a glass jar full of honey into his reusable shopping bag, as well as a smaller jar filled with what was, from what he could see, humus.

"As an apology for mixing up our underwear and as a welcoming gift — though I'm still eyeing that beautiful vase in the plaza, yes indeed," the woman said.

"Uh," Kaveh fumbled. "There's really no need! Really, it should be us buying you a welcoming gift. I am ashamed to say it has completely slipped my mind."

And he meant it. If Kaveh's mother were to see him now she would surely start lecturing, and he didn't know which was worse in that regard, his mother or Al haitham. He continued, "Al haitham has been busy at work recently and I've picked up a new commision too s-so — I'm sorry! We'll be sure to give you something!"

But the woman simply laughed, slapping a hand well naturally against his shoulder. "No need, no need! Please, it's my job to win over the young people in my new neighbourhood, please rest easy. I'd hate to inconvenience you or your husband when you're both swarmed with work."

Kaveh didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so he settled for a strangled laugh, feeling inexcusably hot as his face flashed. "Ah, that's not really --," 

Unfortunately, Tomio had seemed to reach his limit for today. Letting out a ferocious, husky yeowl, he laid back first in the middle of the road where the sun was abundant, paws in the air and clearly looking for a pet or two from the children running past.

"Oh no, Tomio!"

He watched, gaping, as the older woman struggled to pick up the lax feline — but Tomio seemed to have turned to liquid with the way his body flopped back down onto the road.

"Please allow me," Kaveh said, placing a hand on her shoulder and sliding his shopping back into the crook of his elbow before squatting down to stare at the horribly, one toothed, one eyed face looking back at him. "You, mister, are starting to grow on me."

Carrying the feline in his arms, they both headed back home, talking about Kaveh and his work, about her daughter and her recent, new found bliss after a messy divorce, about Tomio and how he was viciously attacked as a kitten by a nasty man.

The cat nestled in his arms, purring, now seemed that much more infinitely more beautiful to Kaveh.

Two weeks later, Al haitham walked through the door and Kaveh had to do a double take, lest his eyes deceive him. "Why in the name of Lord Kusanali are you smiling for?"

His roomate, silently, smugly, placed atop the coffee table a bottle of sweet red and two pairs of wine glasses, black tinted and golden rimmed. 

Kaveh gaped (the flutter in his stomach must've been from the sheer amount of coffee he had drank hours before with an unsettling empty stomach, yes) and spluttered out, "what the hell is this? Have you finally lost your mind?"

Al haitham deliberately buying not only alcohol but also brand new wine glass felt as though he was premeditating for something — perhaps today was the day he finally snapped and kicked Kaveh out, or worse; confirmed all his worst fears about this are we, aren't we affair between them and send the architect on his way, homeless, broken hearted and drunk.

Maybe he was betting on Kaveh getting so shit-faced he'd fall into a ditch and die. Maybe --

"Husband."

Kaveh let out a strangled gasp, utterly struck and horrified, his sketchbook slipping from his grasp. "W-what!?"

"These are gifts from our neighbour. She said to take a break and bask in our wedded bliss -- according to her, it won't last long."

"WHAT?!"

"Don't yell. Are you deaf or just stupid?"

Feeling his face flash, Kaveh sprang to his feet. "What did you tell her?"

Al haitham raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. "I said nothing. She assumed and I didn't have time to rebuke her before she went back inside her house."

"Al haitham --"

"Does it bother you that much?"

What?

"Doesn't it bother you?"

"Not particularly, no."

And later, if Kaveh decided to snuggle closer to the warm, naked body next to him, closer than he ever dared to or allowed himself too, and bring his arms around the sturdy waist, humming out in bliss — well, he could blame it on the wine.

[sulli-villain]

new OC's list!

I will keep this post up-to-date-ish.... with my ocs! an icon, a mini bio, and eventually tag hotlinks! in case anyone grows interested in them! for a comprehensive list see "old ocs page" on my side bar. To search a character, type "character:charactername" into tags. example, tagged "character:Rem". current exceptions are sam=samantha.

OC's in pairs/groups who directly interact

"Sam" Samantha Winters

Tag. age 35. A human rights advocate. Stubborn and feisty, she encounters a lot of dangerous situations and many people wish to harm her. Acts tough but is in constant fight or flight just trying to survive. Past attempts at hiring body guards went poorly, but...

"Jack"Jackie Sullivan

Tag. Age 44. AWOL rogue of a military hate cult. He killed the rest of the cult when he was 25, and faded into obscurity. A drunken shell of a man with bad opinions, a worse smoking habit, and an uncontrollable urge to solve problems with violence and alcohol. Sam hired him as her bodyguard for some reason... Slowly but surely her influence is rubbing off on him.

"Mikhail" Micheal Allen

Tag. age: 31 Occupation: cryptid and supernatural hunter. He's a bit dense and can be a dumbass, but he's actually very good at his job, surviving it, and taking notes on the actions of supernatural entities. Found someone he was supposed to protect, but then.....

Devon Freyr

Tag. Appears as a middle aged human male. An eldritch horror of some unknown alternate dimension. currently.....he is mikhails "assistant" of varying amounts of use. He likes to withhold information for fun and only intervenes if things go horribly wrong. He's weak to sweets and can potentially be bribed. Has the power to dues ex machina everything, but too lazy and lacks the drive.

Krow

tag. 30's. A man who got sent to hell for conning and then conned his way out. He's cursed now and changes forms at night. Also attracted some annoying ghost who won't stop telling him to be a good person. It's effective and it makes him angry. He likes money but he also really likes cats.

Yumi

Tag. Age:24 at time of death. She doesn't know much about how she died or who she was, just that her life ended tragically. Despite this she has has come to accept it and likes to just have fun. She's sweet and a bit of a ditz, and is obsessed with Krow because he can see her, unlike normal humans who can't. Wants to fix him. It's working and it drives him insane.

Myuur

tag. A deep sea mermaid. age 34. She is a carnivore and has lure-like tentacle objects that glow in the darkness. She can take human form but is very bad at it. Likes humans and is curious about their culture. Aquainted with Rem

Rem

tag. A shallow water mermaid. age 73. unlike Myuur he is generally hostile if bothered, or if he's just in a bad mood. Hunts poachers and disrespectful tourists for fun. He can take human form for much longer than Myuur, and somewhat blend in to get things he wants from land. Acquainted with Myuur

Pyo

tag. A bunny girl. age 22. She's tiny and cute, but stands out from her kin by being unhinged and very able and willing to kill to defend herself. Her favorite weapon is a shotgun. ever changing location of brown markings is definetly not because I forgot. Has a goth wolf bf.

Ged

tag. A wolf man. Age 21. Pyo's emo wolf BF, he looks edgy and cool but he's actually a coward and his family disowned him. He likes to wear tight leather clothing and hide behind his tiny bunny gf. Technically strong but would only fight if cornered.

Camilla

tag. A succubus who runs a fasion company. Sorry there really isn't alot here I just wanted to draw cute gay monster girls.

Frisca

tag. Camillas assistent and model, also gf. they are gay.

Madeline Ellis

Tag. age 19 A journalist who likes getting attention for the latest big scoop. went chasing rumors about a werewolf and got way more than she bargained for. He protects her in exchange for her silence, although things start out quite rough between them.

Lycah Wareth

tag. age 19, a were-dog vigilante. He thinks that the justice system is corrupt and will just kill people he thinks were let off too easy. Works a day job at fast food and drives a green mini cooper. Lives in a shitty studio apartment.

"Nox" Noah E. Xavier

tag. age 21 (17 if hair is long and all green) tatood biker bad boy rebel, he was raised by an ex mafia couple and got a head start on crime. thinks he's hot shit but sometimes he's dumb as shit. Rides a motorcycle without a license and has a corgi named ENDO-CRUISER MK4002

"Elen" Eleanor Mc'Gotti

tag. age:23, A poor artist who lives in a falling apart studio in the worst part of town. Stumbled into some gang shit and met nox in the worst circumstances. They helped each other and he mooches on her couch often now. Treats him like a dumb freeloader most of the time and his attempts to intimidate her fail. Has a blue parakeet named "Birbington Coat Factory"

Alex

Scarlet

STANDALONE OCS

Oc's who have no developed directly related characters, they may share a world potentially, but do not interact canonically with any other oc's.

"snowberry"

tag. Definitely not her real name. Age 24. Bitchy catgirl who is better than you, cute and knows it. Will exploit her looks to get what she wants. Has alot of piercings. in alot of places. Absolutely no shame with this one.

Ramona

tag. age 32. Gender is fuck around and find out. Mommy Dommy vibe gamer dog. They are chaotic, unpredictable, and can be a bit of a troll. But also the mom friend that will listen to your problems and support you. Based on an afgan hound.

Su-Su "MooMoo Milkers"

Honestly I just wanted to draw a cute cowgirl i don't know what you want me to say here.

Takoyaki

tag. Age:23, An alien fish man. His species tried to envade earth but it went pretty badly. He used to be a low ranking gaurd but defected pretty early on because he's a softie. He's just doing his best trying to stay away from combat. "takoyaki" is just a joke name that he was called, but I have no intention of making his real name, so let's just say it's intellegable to human ears.

"Bubblegum" Azure

Tag. age:21 at time of death. He is a gay angel, doesn't remember his human life. Peppy, optimistic, kind of an idiot. wears exclusively skin tight clothing and tight white pants. nickname "bubblegum" for his hair color.

Chase

tag. age: ??? human form appears to be around 20. A phantom demon dog from hell, He is given an intelligence boosting collar and shipped off to the human realm to spy on humans. Enrolled in a magic knight school to steal information and blend in. Acts like a conceited playboy to cope with his incoming existential crisis from becoming sentient.

Elihah

Chase's roomate

"Mura" ShidaMura

Tag. Age:20-28. 5'9". A tragic prince of a shapeshifting dragon clan. Each member of his family has a unique ability and form, and his is immortality. This power didn't become known until he died and woke up, and up until then he was considered worthless trash. Spends 7 years wandering aimlessly before facing his past.

it's a mess beyond this point

Leah

Klouw

Alissa

Xinyi

Noel

Emi

Lukius

Ricky

Rochelle

Tanya

Lachie

Tina Pastel

Rohisa "deer god"

Nosaphi

Nightmare

[forestwhisper3]

Tagged by @joyfuladorable but I don't know how to link their post. Sorry.

Share your wallpaper:

Laptop lock screen

Home screen

Phone lock screen

Just a turtle emblem on a black background

Phone home screen

As you can see, turtles are still in my brain rent-free.

Last song you listened to: Not counting the instrumental stuff I put on to help me write? YT music says it was Yasashi Kiss by Hitomi Shimatani, but before that, it was Adoro by the Broncos, The Guiding Key by Liz Robinett, Passing Through by Kadan Mackay, Feel it Still by Portugal. The Man, and a remixed version of I Love You Baby by Gloria Gaynor. I also listen to a lot of electro swring and stuff with a good bass beat, as well as jazz and classical.

Currently reading: nothing specific at the moment, just different fanfics, haha. My sister really wants me to start reading one of her favorite series, but I can't ever seem to dredge up the willpower to do it.

Last movie you watched: The whole way through? The Mario movie. I've seen bits and pieces of others since then whenever my mom's watching one, but not the whole thing.

I'm not counting the Rise movie since that's just a permanently open tab on my laptop now.

Craving: Frozen yogurt. Or a bacon avocado cheeseburger. Or steamed buns. Or all of them. It's been a while since I've had them, and I want some.

What are you wearing right now: Stitch pajamas when I started this, but work clothes right now since I'm at work.

How tall are you: 5'3"

Piercings: I guess my ears? Pretty sure one or both of them have closed over by now, though.

Tattoos: None. At most, I've done those fake paper ones that used to come with packs of gum, but nothing permanent. Don't really plan to, either.

Glasses? Contacts?: Both. Since middle school. Used to hate glasses, but now I love them. Only thing I don't like is the poor vision that comes with it, haha. Contacts are for work or trips to places like theme parks where I'm afraid they'll fall off on a ride or something.

Last drink: Water. If we're talking alcoholic...I don't even remember. I'm not a big drinker.

Last thing I ate: Pizza for dinner. And breakfast since I was too lazy to make anything.

I don't even know what toppings were on these but they were delicious.

Last show: TMNT, specifically, "The Real World" from the 03 series. I need my reference video.

Favorite Color: Red and purple. Green is nice too.

Current obsession: I think it's pretty obvious, lol. TMNT.

Unrelated obsession: ... I'm not sure what to put here. Fluffy things? Cute things like penguin stickers? ...Pokémon?

Any pets: 4 cats, 2 dogs, all rescues. We are very much a "You're coming home with me" family.

Crush on anyone?: No one that's real, lol, and my fictional "crushes" are said more as a joke more than anything. Am I opposed to the idea of romance and being in a relationship? Not at all, but I'm not gonna go out of my way to find one or stress out about it either. If it happens, it happens, and if not, that's cool too.

Favorite fictional characters: Now these I have a lot of. Yusuke Urameshi, Yagami Taichi, Gary Oak, Roronoa Zoro (although I love all the strawhats really), Michelangelo (though again, I love pretty much all the ninja turtles), Knuckles, Tails, Professor Layton, Donald Duck, Sora, Cloud Strife, Vincent Valentine, Zack Fair, Maes Hughes (and most of the FMAB cast), Luigi, and many more. These are just some of the first ones that come to mind, but it would take too long if I did all of them, lol.

Last place you traveled to: ...What is this traveling you speak of?

Joking aside, probably Tucson, Arizona, to visit my brother. Not counting that? Mexico, but that was ages ago.

Tagging...uh...*checks to see who actually interacts with me on here* @klonoadreams and @eldritchgray I guess?