#look at me ma i made a meme!

[samathekittycat]

POV: you are xisuma and there is a knock on your server's front door

[missmouse43]

[karl-marxs-lil-pogchamp]

Trans Monkey

[unhinged-waterlilly]

Percy Jackson RP Blog

Ooc Intro

Lilly Darhk here! Child of Poseidon. Legacy of Styx(dont ask). My pronouns are she/her, i dont get sexuality. Oh, and currently possessed by Nyx, Syclla, Styx, and Hera. No, I also don't know how I'm alive. Now a Champion of Athena(are you proud, dad?). And Champion of Achilles now-

I live in Itacha now but come to Camp in the morning

Currently on a self appointed quest of getting as many bows from as many gods as I can so if you're a god or if you know a god who can give me a bow tell me please- I need them

Likes: my friends, reading, writing, chocolate, family, My boyfriend :3, ma lake

Dislikes: hellhounds, Zeus, people who hurt my family, jellyfish(I didn't even do anything to them!), hellhounds, Apollo(he's too fucking bright)

Fatal Flaw: Pride

Weapons: A bow and arrows usually but has a bracelet where the charms turn into daggers

Kill count: 127 (counting all the times I've killed those stupid goddam HELLHOUNDS)

Death count: 0

Almost death count: 999++

Key:

Nyx(purple, bold) Scylla(blue,bold) Styx(red,italic) Hera(orange,italic)

Lilly(normal)

The peeps I knoww:

Ma boyfriend, who's very awesome, and if anyone hurts him, I will make sure you die a very slow death. :D @madson-of-hermes-notluke

They, like, possess me: @primordialgoddessofnight , @werelonelydemonsfromhell , @heraaaaaaaa

Champions of: @achilles-the-greatest

My bio dad: @that-little-fucking-shit

Dad, who adopted me: @odysseus-of-ithaca-is-lost

Another version of the dad that adopted me that I don't like as much: @odysseus-reigning-king-of-ithaca

Other dad who looked at me and was like 'That one' (he regrets it every day): @paris-you-idiot

My mom, who was completely okay with ody adopting me and didn't question it at all(which i still find kinda weird): @penelope-is-waiting

My sister from Poseidon: @daonedaonlyskh

My other sister: @reigningprincesstofithaca

My psychotic adoptive brother: @reigningprinceofithaca

Other version of my brother, less insane more sad: @telemachus-of-ithaca

Other other version of my brother, but he's 12 and adorable! (And if anyone hurts him... you better hope you die before I get to you) @telemachus-is-lost

Other other other versions of my brother are 10 noww @young-telemachus

Other other other other version of my brother and he has horrid taste in men @the-prince-telemachus

Other other other other other version of my brother who thinks he's Shakespeare or that arrow Apollo dealt with @ithacas-prince

My brother from Poseidon he's an idiot @forbiddensonoftheseagod

Lil Percy he threatened me it took everything in me not to laugh @the-s0n-of-poseidon

My cyclops brother, very tall, very blind and does not know what small talk is: @my-baseballs-are-humans

My boyfriend's half sister(who's also my friend ig): @hispanic-child-of-hermes

Scares me: @that-girl-cupid

Richbitches4lifeee: @if-chaos-was-a-boy

If i were to date a gal-(also kinda scares me): @silena-daughterofaphrodite

Nyx possesses this dude, too. Oh, and there's also his boyfriend: @idontloveanybodythatsmypower

Almost more unhinged than me(almost): @nicoswill2live

Child of Eros who has decided that she would kill for me after 5 minutesof meeting me(I would do the same): @i-would-want-myself

Some dude who sent me a meme to be my friend and then wrote me a song: @clown-energy-skyrocketing

Fellow Luke defender😌 @childofthewargod

There's more people I know- sorry for the tagss

Face claim: Cool art of meh :3

Made this cause everyone's confused about meh.

This user is... (1) (2) (3)

Stuff about Lilly... (1)

Moodboard...

~~~

No NSFW. DNI if you're zionist, transphobic, homophobic, racist, sexist, a nazi, xenophobic, or otherwise

[willowser]

you had only to look at me—

part one.

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 7.4k+

tags: nsfw (18+), childhood best friend bakugou, oral (f!receiving), m!masturbation, lots of "first time" talk, more angst, more virgin bakugou.

even before i was touched, i belonged to you; you had only to look at me. — the burning heart, louise glück.

this is a repost.

you and bakugou avoid each other just like you did in middle school, only it's a little too easy this time around.

he's terrible at texting back in general, and because you're not initiating any conversations on your own — or sending funny memes or bringing up all might in some capacity — the radio silence draws ever on and on.

the closest you come to interacting with him is getting a snapchat from his mom, his figure in the background at their kitchen table. all you can see is the floof of his hair and the outline of his shoulders, but you're so bothered by the fact that he's home and didn't tell you that you don't even respond.

it officiates things in a bad way; he's really, actually not speaking to you.

and it's — fucking annoying.

at least in the past the distance was mutually and wordlessly agreed upon; you didn't talk because you were busy or didn't have time or anything new to say, but whenever he's come home — because he so rarely does — bakugou has always made his usual, god-honest attempt to irritate you.

and he still is, but this time he's doing it all wrong.

you go through the five stages of grief rather quickly, jumping from denial to anger overnight. several times, you type out something to text him, each message different than the last:

i know you were at your mom's jackass ☠️

it's really not a big deal and i think we should just forget about it, if that's what you wanna do ?

if i crossed some kind of boundary with you then i'm sorry and i won't say that again so you better call me before i put your baby pictures on the internet. i'm serious.

you're my best friend and i don't think it's weird that it happened. if you're being dumb because you're embarrassed, then don't be because i thought it was really hot

unsurprisingly, you don't send any of these and instead just stew in your own aggravation. lunch with him after the whole thing had been just as empty and awkward, and you think he chose the place near your apartment just so you could walk home and he didn't have to spend another second with you.

three months go by, which isn't long compared to other stints you've spent not talking to one another, but this one drags. like a lot. the only good that comes from it is that you graduate from anger to acceptance, finalizing a future without him in it.

except for the few times he invades your brain like a little parasite, red-faced and shuddering, gripping you like a lifeline, and then your stomach flips so hard that you feel sick and it takes genuine effort to check out of that daydream and back into a bakugou-less reality.

and then he shows up at your apartment, uninvited.

his mom hosts a sunday dinner that you don't go to, for several potential reasons. one would be that you'll have to see bakugou and pretend like nothing's happened even though you're still a little peeved; two is that you'll both ignore each other, and that'll reverse all your progress because he's been ignoring you already.

three is that he might not show up, and then you'll have to pretend that it doesn't bother you all night long.

none of that sounds better than watching trash television and falling asleep on your couch, so you tell mitsuki that you're very sick and very sorry, and that you'll make it up to her later.

because of this, the first thing bakugou says to you after you swing the front door open is, "you're supposed to be fuckin' dead."

suffice to say, you're surprised to see him; still outfitted in his hero costume, mask shoved up his forehead so that his hair is wilder than usual. there's kohl smudged around his eyes, messy, and they look brighter and harsher because of it.

there's also a family-mart plastic bag in his right hand.

"what?"

he just grunts, eyes snapping over your figure, dressed down in a too-large sweater and athletic shorts meant for running even though you've never done so in them.

in his hands — still gloved — the plastic crinkles obnoxiously as he holds it out. "old hag told me to bring this to you."

a can of low sodium soup, two apples, gatorade, and something over-the-counter for nausea. there's something else at the very bottom that you don't get the chance to inspect before he interrupts with his big, fat mouth.

"y'look fine to me, so why the hell didn't you go?"

you frown at him and — don't know what to say. clearly, it seems he's going the pretend-it-never-happened route, which is infuriating because he could just as well have done that months ago. even still, he won't hardly meet your gaze, staring for only a moment before rolling his eyes and huffing, sticking them anywhere else. if you peek close, real close, you'd say his ears are a little red, but maybe you're just looking for — something.

you shrug. "didn't feel like it."

he shakes his head like that's the stupidest thing he's ever heard, eyebrow arched. "why the hell not?"

"because, bakugou, i just didn't feel like going, i don't know what else to tell you." you huff, shrugging again when he doesn't say anything. "thanks for the stuff. is that it?"

his lips twist as he thinks, giving you another once-over before sighing. under his tank-top, you watch how his chest expands, the grimace that ripples over his face as he reaches a hand to lightly feel at his right side. "need your help with somethin'."

now you're just being petulant; you snort, raising your eyebrows as his eyes narrow at the sound. "me? are you joking? you need my help with—"

he groans loud enough to drown you out. "y'gonna let me in or y'just gonna run your mouth?" and so you step aside to wave him in wordlessly.

the backpack on his shoulder dumps to the ground by the door and he strolls into the kitchen like he owns the place, despite the fact that he's never been here before. you've lived in the unit for a year, but meetups are so infrequent and showing it off to him was never considered — until now; watching him shuffle through the bag on the counter, your nerves spike at the reality check.

alone together, again. in your apartment. well after dark.

that image of him is so — invasive, sweeping in at the worst times: between your legs, face as red as his eyes, the little moan he kept trying to swallow. how embarrassed he seemed when you asked if he felt good, if you felt good, and the fact that he still admitted it despite everything.

your entire body blazes like a flame to gasoline, and you try to focus on what else he's taking out of the bag, oblivious.

does he think about it at all? the way you have? at the root of the situation, that's what has been most bothersome: is he grossed out? simply embarrassed? does he feel taken advantage of? did he enjoy it and just doesn't know how to say it? the not knowing is driving you insane.

"i got—" bakugou awkwardly angles his body, gently touching at his side again. in his hands is a simple pack of first-aid supplies, like a wound wash and bandages and medical tape. "need you to change this shit for me."

"oh?" is all you can manage to say, still distracted, and whatever is obvious in your voice has his eyes snapping to you from across the kitchen, adam's apple bobbing. you clear your throat, struggling for normalcy. "the hell did you do?"

he's — going to take his shirt off. clearly, by the way he stretches out his shoulders and then slowly reaches behind himself to grab the material by the back, carefully pulling it up over his head with a low, stinging hiss.

bakugou's always been a lean kid — guy — but pulled so taut like that, after years of working out muscles you didn't even know he had, he looks — stupidly shredded, and the slow reveal of his tight stomach is not helping you to focus.

you just never realized how hot it was, because you never looked at him like that. until recently.

his mask comes off with his shirt and he tosses both onto the kitchen counter — again, as if he pays the bills here — and his hair is a mess and he usually doesn't care, but he runs a hand through it several times before finally looking back at you, eyes outlined in black.

"y'gonna help me or...?" he shrugs, trying to appear impassive — but it's too obvious; something's shifted, for the both of you.

you don't trust your voice anymore, so you just shuffle over to him, frowning at the dirty, worn bandage that's already unsticking from his skin. with his teeth, he pulls off his gloves and it's a wonder why he even wears them, really, because his hands are filthy underneath, covered in soot and black-stained grease.

standing like he is, arm slightly raised, you can see all his sweat, muscles shifting under his skin as he breathes, and his hairy armpit is staring you in the face and you don't know when he stopped being 12 and started being 20 and when he became such a man. it's not fair, that he should suddenly be so — attractive.

"you're disgusting," you tell him — and mean it — and it's met with such hot and irritated surprise that you have to keep talking before he explodes. "you should probably take a shower before putting on a new bandage."

it's road-rash up his right side, still shiny and wet and blood red. still raw. just looking at it is enough to make you cringe.

bakugou huffs, exasperated. "okay, gimme a towel then."

"i didn't mean take a shower here!" you squawk, taking a step back as if to further yourself from the suggestion.

detonation imminent; bakugou curls his hands into fists and the same muffled warning you've been getting your whole life crackles. "okay," he says, voice thin and razor sharp. "you're coming back to mine then?"

your whole life flashes before your eyes — or at least the few minutes it took for him to lose his shit between your legs. "what? no, why would i?"

"i need your help with this, dip-shit!"

"you're saying there's no one else that can—"

"if you want me to fuck off, just say so!"

things go silent, startlingly so. totally still, except for the rising flush across his face, one that you used to read as annoyance but are now translating into something else you never could have expected from him: embarrassment. it's starting to give you whiplash, how much you're discovering despite knowing him all your life.

"closet is at the end of hall," you say in surrender. "bathroom will be on your left."

bakugou mutters a quiet, angry little "jesus" before stalking back to the front door to get his bag, and then he's disappearing into the dark of your apartment.

you slump down on your couch and — struggle. watching the tv and absorbing nothing; it's a rerun anyway. the sudden, overwhelming urge to cry washes over you as the shower spray sounds in the background, followed by a low-timbered swear and the clatter of several bottles against the tub.

it's easy to butt heads with bakugou. you don't think there is any other way to interact with him, really, because he's so argumentative and that used to be okay, but now things are — off. you don't know what he's doing, what he wants, why he's here and in your shower when he could be at home or getting patched up at his agency. all the conclusions you can come to are frightening, a little, and they're hard to fathom; is he — does he want more?

is this just because he's a guy that got some action and is looking for a second round, or is this because it's you?

this stupid situation has only added an unnecessary amount of drama to your life, and you think maybe the pretend-it-never-happened route is the smartest path, even if you can't stop thinking about him and the strength coiled in his biceps, in his shoulders, and how tall he's become and — when did he lose most of the baby fat in his face, and when did he get such a sharp jawline?

how much is he working out, to get his body like that? he used to be a skinny, scrappy little thing and now — he can probably lift a truck over his head. must run all the time, though he's always been active, and you've never looked before, but you wonder how nice his ass is.

what he looks like under the shower, soapy and wet.

furiously, you blink out of your daydream, feeling like a foreign body in your own skin; if someone would have told you only a handful of months ago that you'd be having weird, sensual thoughts about your best friend, you would have laughed so hard you'd cried. or puked.

but if anyone else stands in that picture with him, your heart squeezes painfully. traitorously. already, you've shared so many memories with him; the start of elementary school, learning how to swim, giving each other equally bruised faces, staying up all night to study for important exams, tackling middle school graduation side-by-side, him making himself at home in your first apartment, just as you had done in his.

the devil on your shoulder asks: what's a few more firsts?

it seems like the shower stops in record time, but when you hone back in on the tv, the episode has changed and new drama is settling in. distantly, the rattle of the doorknob is more aggressive than it needs to be and when the echo of a swung-open door trails down the hallway, your heart suspends in your throat. never have you had to think this much just to be around him, and it's bothersome.

clean and relaxed, he's — softer; you spare a quick glance at him when he comes to stand beside the couch, distracted by the show on screen, and his hair is damp, starting to stick out again the more it dries. his muscles aren't made of marble anymore; still there and rippling, but he breathes calmly and his skin is baby smooth, tender. you eye his tummy and the line of fine hair running down into the waistband of his sweats, and do your best to ignore the sudden desire to kiss right above his belly-button.

"since when are they talking again?"

just as he looks at you, your gaze shoots back to the screen, eyes narrowing as you try to rapidly remember what's happening in the day-to-day for stay-at-home, pro-hero wives.

"uh," you blink, distracted — and he notices, "what do you mean? they've been hanging out, like, all season."

bakugou watches the tv in silence, occasionally glancing down to the bandage in his hands as he carefully spreads it out, as he dampens the towel with the antiseptic and dabs at his wounds. 

"even after she hit on whatshername's husband?"

"yeah, that was a misunderstanding," you frown at him but he doesn't see it. "remember when they went to that dinner party and all hell broke loose because—"

his flat look serves for a rude interruption. "they go to a lot of fuckin' dinner parties."

"i know, but," you scoff, annoyed, "have you even watched this season?"

bakugou scoffs, mocking and over-dramatic, "yeah, as if i've got all day to sit on my ass and watch your stupid girly—"

"you're watching it right now."

"because you've got it on!" he huffs when you sink into the couch, resolutely trying to ignore him. “start it over then, if you’re gonna cry about it.”

you gape up at him, going as far as to pause the show so that maybe he’ll acknowledge you and all your annoyance; he doesn’t. “start it over? this is, like, episode 26!”

“so? got a hot date or what?”

he’s not at all interested in the answer and that’s obvious when he spins around and holds out the bandage expectantly, staring down at the scrape — glowing red and angry, a mirrored wound you can feel scabbing across your own skin; itchy and irritating. 

finally he looks at you properly, frowning softly and — you see him then, can feel the tension lining his body as you carefully tape on his bandage. trying to hide how uncomfortable he is, though you he’s never had to do so with you in all of — forever. it’s nauseating, and again you're struck by the image of him, only now it's of the horror that had been on his face afterwards, at what you’d done.

it pushes everything over the edge; quietly, so that your voice doesn’t expose anything, you say, “you haven’t spoken to me in three months.”

silence weighs in the air immediately, heavy, and you watch him try to appear unbothered, shrugging as he stares back at the unmoving tv, jaw tight. “phone works both ways.”

“yeah, but,” your hands drop as he steps away to pull on a loose shirt, and you curl your fists into your own. just as he has. “i’m always the one having to reach out—”

“so why didn’t you?”

“what?” frustrated, you massage your temples, trying to soothe the nuclear headache threatening to incinerate you. “are you seriously trying to—”

“what’s the big deal?” he huffs, slumping down into the far corner of the couch before cringing, swearing as he gently touches at his bandage. “you’ve gone longer than that without talkin’ to me, so…”

the tone of his voice is infuriating, as if this is somehow all your fault — and maybe it is, because you shouldn’t have crossed such a boundary with him, but — he can be such a dick.

“it’s not just me bakugou, you could have just as easily picked up the phone, too!” your teeth grind when he shrugs again, leaning his head against his fist as he looks anywhere else. it almost looks like guilt that's dragging his expression down, but you know better than to assume he could feel such a thing. “you always—”

“jesus, if i always do this—”

“shut up for a second, damn!” and then because you can’t stand the stupid look on his face, you kick him in the thigh for good measure; it garners a warning glare, his teeth bared.

he easily catches you by the ankle when you try to kick him again. "tell me what the big fuckin' deal is."

"the big deal? oh, you mean besides the fact that you totally came in your pants?"

it stuns him for a second, eyes wide and face pale, before he's yanking you across the couch, narrowly avoiding the knee aimed for his gut. "you—fucking—!" a smack lands across the back of his head when he ducks and he plants a heavy hand over your face, forcing you to close your eyes and turn away.

"you're gonna blow my head off!"

"if i wanted you dead, you—" he intercepts the hand you blindly reach up with, crossing it awkwardly over your chest so that you're pinned down like a wild animal. "you would be!"

"kiss my ass, katsuki." you snark, and it does something to him, your use of his first name, because he's still for a moment before sitting back and collecting your wrists correctly, to hold against the couch arm above your head.

"you're such a fucking—" he swoops in so low that his nose almost brushes yours and he grabs the front of your sweater with his free hand, like he's gonna shake you down for some lunch money. "fuck, i could just—" and then he groans long and loud, so annoyed he can't find the words.

"yeah, well—"

"shut up," he lightly knocks his forehead into your cheekbone with another dissatisfied sound, letting out a heavy sigh as he sinks his face down into your neck.

all your muscles tighten on instinct, waiting for the sharp bite that's due any second — but his fingers only uncurl from the material of your sweater, slowly slipping around to tangle into the hair at the nape of your neck. his pull there is a little tight, enough for you to know he's got you, but not so much that you're head is aching; you can't imagine you have a sensitive scalp, anyway, after growing up around him.

you want to say something — which is an annoying realization because now you feel like too much of a talker — but you just focus on the heave of his chest over yours, the breath that moves through him. the minute jostle of his hips as he settles further into the space between your legs, almost comfortable. the slight swell of something unfamiliar against your inner thigh.

bakugou presses his face a little further into you, warm, and the tip of his nose drags along the column of your throat. successfully sedating you, distracted by the feel of his parted lips against your skin.

your body is hot all over, very suddenly; the sweater now feels like a death trap and hopefully you don't smell weird, though it's never been a worry before, not around him, and your adrenaline is rushing and you're kinda tired of acting like you don't know why that is.

fuck pretend-it-never-happened. it's been a long three months.

he's almost entirely pressed against you, but there is a small gap of space that closes when you open your legs a little wider, hitching them around his waist as his breath stutters against your neck.

it's happened so quick, so effortlessly yet again; you give a purposeful roll of your hips upward and are lost in him all over.

only — it's different than it was before because straddling his lap hadn't done much for you, but now the weighted outline of him is right against your center and the pressure that drags across you sends tingles up your spine and has your toes curling in your socks. when you let out a tiny gasp at the stomach-flipping sensation, tension coils in every curve of his body and the grip around your wrists and in your hair only tightens.

you can't help it; you let out a "katsuki" in the same heady tone as you did in his apartment and it has him falling easily into the slow grind you've been unable to stop thinking about. what shifts across his face is obvious, against your throat, like the scrunch of his brow and the slow drop of his mouth. he tries to muffle his breathy "oh" into your skin, but it echoes throughout your entire body, has an ache beginning between your thighs that he's already soothing.

the nip comes then, teeth sinking gently into your neck as you weakly cry out in surprise, but it's only for a moment before his tongue — wet and heavy and wide — is tasting over your jugular, lips closing around your skin as he sucks experimentally. you let out a proper moan then, squirming against his hands and up into him so that the pressure doubles for the both of you.

katsuki finally relinquishes your wrists, carding his hand down your body before coming to squeeze your hip, your thigh, locking your leg tight around his waist. "yeah," he rasps, voice deeper than you've ever heard it as he presses his forehead into yours. "how do you fuckin' like it?"

being bitten, he means, vengefully, but you're spread open beneath him and he's rutting the hard length of himself against you roughly, eagerly, and panting open-mouthed and you tighten up at the aggression in his tone and in his hands and his very being and —

"fuck," you gasp, loud and wanton, "fuck, katsuki—"

and then you are kissing your best friend.

the boy from down the street that always ruined your hair and taught you where to place your thumb if you were gonna throw a punch. that used his empty pen cartridge to blow spitballs at you and mocked you for losing crane games, even though he ended up giving you the stupid stuffed animal anyway. that had to be king of the castle, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield. that demanded you be his queen, weeds he picked for you woven carefully into your hair by his hands.

katsuki kisses like he's shy — another term you've never thought of in relation to him and all his fire and brimstone; it's slow and a little delayed in comparison to what his hips are doing, as if he's in his head too much and is trying to figure how to move his lips and when. tentative and chaste, until you run your tongue along the seam of his mouth and pry him open a little more.

it's making you hungry; that possessiveness from before is creeping back in, eager to have him in ways nobody else has. you arch into him, biting at his lips and sighing into his mouth as goosebumps break out across his skin.

with a slant of his head, he deepens the kiss and you can feel his nostrils flaring, the fingernails scratching against your scalp, the bruises he's probably leaving on your thigh. he lets up only to breathe, panting into your ear when he begins to bite and suck on your skin again; your earlobe and neck and even the cut of your jaw. like maybe he's hungry, too.

you fist a hand into his shirt just to tug it up his body, feeling the strong contract of his stomach when your fingers ghost against him. katsuki gets the hint quickly, rising up to his knees to tear the material off — much more harshly than he did before, which has you eying his crinkled bandage — and you move fast to take advantage of the new space.

it gives him pause when you yank down your shorts, pulling your legs back to slip them off and fling them somewhere across the room. his face goes red again, and his heaving chest, too, and his eyelids flutter as he takes in the sight of your flimsy, damp cotton underwear. you start to pull the sweater up your stomach, but he's watching so intently — so ravenous — that you get shy, without a bra underneath the too-hot fabric.

in any other situation, katsuki would have grabbed onto this moment, your hesitation, and held it over your head to come back and poke at. cataloged this little weak spot for future arguments, but now —

not once has he ever been gentle with you in anything; it's enough of a surprise that that's even a possibility for him, for the two of you, but he presses his body back into yours and kisses you deep, calloused fingers tracing over the new skin exposed to him. he doesn't try to push the sweater up any further, but one hand slips up your back, to splay between your shoulder-blades like it had before, and he's so close and you've never known him to be this — careful. with anything.

"y'r so—" katsuki rolls his hips again and groans, whispering against your lips. "fuckin' soft."

his sweatpants are still on and you don't know why, but when you reach down to help tug them off, he grabs your wrist before they can go too far.

he presses the heat from his cheeks into your own, like he wants to share it. "you done this before?"

"have you?"

he frowns at your non-answer. "i asked first."

you have. three times, technically, though a phantom pain echoes in your stomach at the memories, and you feel an odd emptiness in your chest that makes you really glad to have the sweater still on. your answer leaves you a little ashamed, under his gaze, and you purposely turn from it. "would...that bother you?"

before, you wouldn't have cared, didn't care, nor were you even thinking of him when it happened. wherever he must have been; u.a, probably, getting ready to make his lifelong dreams a reality while you trusted a boy that didn't look at you the way katsuki is now. that didn't hold you and touch you and kiss you the way your best friend has.

he scoffs, though it doesn't sound as careless as it usually does and he squeezes his eyes shut so you can't read them. the truth that's hidden there. "no," he lies, "why would—" but he doesn't finish, just sighs.

"it was awful anyway," you tell him, offering a small smile when he peeks down at you. he doesn't say anything, so you kiss him once, twice, until his tension is melting away. "should have been you."

the grip on your thigh turns almost painful and he grinds into you so roughly that you both gasp, loud in the tight, barely-there space between you. "yeah," he rasps, sucking another bruise into the hollow of your throat. "fuckin' should have."

you try to imagine it; eighteen and nervous, naked in front of him for the first time since you were seven and got into paint from his mom's workshop, when she made you both strip down in the same room, furious. how different he might have been with you then, how much more unsure. kinder than your ex, without a doubt, even for katsuki, and he probably wouldn't have even gone through with the whole thing, considering how uncomfortable the first time is.

or maybe it wouldn't have been, with him; maybe he would have looked into it, taken the time to wind you up the same way he is now so that you were eager and wet and ready. looking down at you with his wide, almost-black eyes in the dim light of a table lamp. another first to share.

"if i'd have just," he huffs, allowing his sweats to slip down past his hips. shoulders trembling when he makes you moan out his name again. "fuckin'—grown a pair 'n told you—"

the weight of him becomes more obvious, the straining bulge he's rocking into your core, and seeing it is — really getting to you; wearing such tight boxers, you can tell just how close the pink tip of him is to his waistband, nearly peeking out from just how hard he is.

it takes a shrug to get him out of your shoulder, so you can press your lips back to his. "can still be you, katsuki," you breathe, biting on his bottom lip until his tiny frown is gone. "if you want, it can still be you."

for a minute, he indulges himself in the greedy kiss you're giving him, testing strokes of his tongue against your own as his hips stutter out of rhythm — but it's when your fingers brush through the hair at the base of his stomach, trying to slip a hand into his boxers, that he's gasping into your mouth and pushing his body up and away.

determination settles over his face then — along with his vibrant flush — and he doesn't say anything as he grabs you like it's nothing and scoots you up the couch so that your back is pressed to the arm, propped up. once he settles between your thighs, he just rests his face into the plush of your stomach — which is humiliating and has you squirming, but the firmness returns to his hands; holding your hips so that you'll still, so that he can kiss right above your belly button, just as you wanted to do to him.

heat flares in your own cheeks — and down your chest and in your ears and searing on the back of your neck — when you feel the first puff of his warm breath against your underwear, where you're sensitive and slick and aching.

this is completely new to you; your ex-boyfriend probably never considered tasting you here, certainly not with the same desire that's painted across katsuki's face. you have to slap your hands over your eyes and bite your lip, embarrassed, suddenly, at how desperate the simple press of his mouth to your underwear makes you.

"hey, hey," katsuki grunts, pinching at your hips until you peek at him through your fingers. the highlights of his cheeks are crimson and his eyes are black, glaring with an intensity that makes you shiver. "it's my fuckin' turn."

to make you fall apart, he means, just as he had.

at the first hot drag of his tongue against the material, you squirm, leaning your head back so that your expression is hidden. another grunt comes from him, you think in dissatisfaction, but he continues, laving until your mouth is falling open and the fabric between you is drenched.

he's gone just long enough to be replaced by the ghost of his thumb, touching you much too-gently. hunger has you stealing another look at him, watching behind your hands as he stares, blatantly, at the mess he's already made of you, stroking the pad of his finger against the sodden material in interest.

discovering; a curious swipe over where you're aching has you sighing and trembling and his eyes jump back up to your covered face, open mouth curling into the faintest smirk as he does it again and again and again. it's bullshit — how quickly he's figured you out, almost as if your body was meant to be unraveled by his hands — but then again, it didn't take you long either, did it?

"katsuki," you hiss, digging a hand into the hair at the crown of his head, tugging on it until his smile is dropping and his eyes are lidding. your body is on fire and your legs are trying to close around his head, hips squirming as he toys with you, like the little brat he is.

deadly serious, he grabs your underwear and holds it tightly in his fist so that you can wiggle one leg free, and then he's tugging it out of his way and devouring you whole.

it's sloppy, the mixture of spit and slick as runs his tongue through you, wet and wide, and you're so sensitive that you squeak out in surprise, fingers tightening. a groan punches from deep in his chest and your hips buck at the vibration of it, drawn so tight already.

"oh my—" you gasp, dropping your other hand from your face to grip the couch; eyes closed, you're somewhere else entirely, lost in the clumsy swirl of pleasure between your thighs.

katsuki raises his head to breathe, reaffirming your grip in his hair by wrapping his fingers tight over your own. at the shiny sight of his mouth, you can't help but to whimper with a needy roll of your hips, until he's simply sticking out his tongue and allowing you to ride it, to use it as you need to. it's embarrassing, how desperate you are, but his eyes are knife-sharp and trained on you and you've never experienced anything like this.

he moves then, slipping one hand further up under your sweater, cupping your breast carefully as his lids flutter — and the other is shoved between his hips and where they're pressed into the couch. you tighten up at just the idea of him rutting into his hand while kissing your messy slit, moaning openly, head falling back as your eyes start to roll.

this is — fuck — you've never been so turned on in all your life and it's driving you crazy; at one point in time, the thought of bakugou like this would have grossed you out, but now you think it's only like this because of him. anyone else wasn't right, not the way he is, and he's maybe a little impatient and unwieldy, but it's katsuki. between your legs with his mouth on you — something he wanted — and his fingers are brushing over your nipple and the other is down his pants, wrist flexing and —

"fuck, oh fuck, i—" you try to sit up, chasing blindly after the high, but he forces you back down. a long groan is muffled by your skin and when he lifts his chin just a little, a glob of spit falls off his lips and the sight makes your toes curl before he presses back into you and sucks.

everything goes blank as you free-fall into him and you cum quietly, muscles so taut in your body that your voice can't even squeeze out of your throat. the minute you're able to breathe, he's biting a mark into your thigh and yanking you back down under him, lips slick against yours.

tasting yourself on his tongue has you coming out of the heady haze, ravenous; katsuki helps you to shove his boxers down, though he can only gasp tightly when he grinds against you, coating himself.

"'m not—" his soft hair tickles your face when he shakes his head, arms trembling beside your head. "i won't be able to—"

"keep going," you breathe, smearing your mess over the tip of him and down his length as he groans. "i don't care, keep going."

he smashes his lips to yours, though he's only able to meet the pump of your hand a few times before dropping his forehead to your shoulder, spine curling, fingers digging into your hair. katsuki swears long and low, eventually letting out a soft sound you wouldn't have expected from him as his entire body tenses and he spills onto your stomach.

"goddamn it," he moans into the fabric of your sweater, weary, after a long moment. "now 'm fuckin' tired."

and for some reason that makes you laugh, though the lust is dissipating and your nerves are trembling at the memory of how this ended last time. katsuki pulls away suddenly, making your stomach drop, and he doesn't look at you as he detangles himself, awkwardly shuffling away from the couch and out of sight.

you frown down at the mess on your stomach, the way it's pooling in your belly-button — and you'll be damned to let him leave you like this, but just as you finishing reciting over and over what you want to say, he appears, towel in hand.

it's still damp from his shower and you tense on instinct, waiting for him to start twirling it with that stupid grin on his face, but katsuki only arranges your legs so that he can sit between them, carefully wiping you off as his cheeks burn. and you just watch him, the way he runs a hand over your skin to make sure he got it all before helping to finagle your underwear back on properly.

then he just looks at the tv, unmoving. if he's trying to appear casual at all, it's a piss-poor job — but he's never been able to keep his fat mouth shut for long.

the look he gives you lacks its usual heat, though you can't tell if that's just because he's drained or if he's withdrawn for another reason. "what now? six months, a year before you talk to me again?"

and you're annoyed all over again.

"what?" you return his weak glare, sitting up properly so that you're right in his face. "are you kidding me? you didn't talk to me either."

"the hell did you want me to say?" he scoffs and — you could slap him, for ruining everything so quickly. wipe that stupid look off his face with your fist. "'sorry i busted a nut, you free for dinner?'"

"yeah!" the shrill tone of your voice makes his eyes widen, and you throw your hands up in the air, incensed. "that sounds wonderful in comparison to coming home and avoiding me."

"i didn't avoid you," he mutters, though his eyes drift back to the tv. "just didn't have shit to say."

"bakugou," you slap your hands over your face for the second time, though this one is much worse than the last. "how is that fucking fair? what did you want me to say?"

and now — his eyes are full and furious, mouth curling down into an ugly frown that you've so rarely had the pleasure of seeing on his face; every time his mother made you go home and when you told him you weren't gonna try to test into u.a. when he overheard your girl friends teasing you for liking an older boy in your school.

when he was losing you, you realize.

"'m not doin' this shit with you," he mutters, definitive, before swiping his shirt up off the floor and standing. "not doin' this bakugou shit."

"oh my god," you groan, rising, too, because your stomach is twisting at the thought of him leaving again, no matter how angry he's making you. "what does that even mean?"

you trail him as he stomps into your kitchen to grab his work shirt and mask from the counter, trying to interrupt him at every turn, and the scowl on his face only grows when you shoot to stand in front of the door, just as he reaches for his bag.

"you can't—"

"this," he seethes, gesturing to you and then himself before gritting his teeth so hard that they should shatter. "this is why i didn't wanna fuckin' talk to you."

you knew he didn't. the minute lunch ended and when you made out his shape in mitsuki's snapchat: you knew. but hearing it from his mouth is as much of a confirmation as it is a kick in the gut.

there's more he's struggling to say, mouth shifting as he chews on the words and the skin of his lips. his gaze jumps from you to the door to something on the counter before he's swallowing again, staring down at you with brand new eyes.

the light in the kitchen makes them shine, angry and sad. "i can't—" he sighs, nostrils flaring like he's mad at himself for struggling. "go back to bakugou, not after—" a vague hand waves toward the couch. "maybe this is just, i don't know, whatever to you, but i — fuckin' can't."

tell me what the big fuckin' deal is; earlier, he'd demanded it of you, why the silence mattered so much this time when it didn't seem to matter before. in the midst of your anger, you didn't think twice about his wording but now —

he wanted you to say it. katsuki wanted to hear you say that it hurt to be without him for so long, and he kept his distance because he was afraid that you wouldn't.

"you're so stupid," you mutter it quietly, and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, enraged, but before he can get another dumb word out, you loop your arms around his neck and just — kiss him.

not crazy or wild or lust-driven, just your lips to his, slowly working him out of the shell he's tried to hide behind.

the bag in his hand hits the ground with a soft thud and then his arm is wrapping around your back, tugging you to him as he finally breathes and opens his mouth — and lets you in.

when you cup the sides of his neck, katsuki inhales sharply through his nose, pulse jumping under your fingers, and his lashes flutter against your cheeks as he opens his eyes. he pulls back enough so that you can stare at each other and you realize that eyeliner is still clinging to his lids, making him seem sharper than usual.

you're a little stunned, then, at how beautiful he is. 

"i can't go back to bakugou either, dumbass." gently, you knock your forehead into his, smiling at the pout on his face. "you've totally screwed that up for me."

"yeah, well," he huffs, "about time. only took you all my goddamn life."

"sorry i'm late."

"what else is new?" he rolls his eyes and you squeak, indignant, before sticking your tongue out at him, patience worn thin already.

you expect a bite or a pinch to the cheek or another rough violence that falls along the lines that have made up your relationship thus far — but instead there is only something soft that reflects in his eyes and the shy kiss he presses to your lips, something that he's kept safe just for you, guarded, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield.

[wolfjackle-creates]

broski I beg of u to tell me about your Danny is Clark’s nephew wip im so intrigued

@hailsatanacab also asked about this one! I shared two snippets for them so check out Part 1 and Part 2. (about 900 words total between the two asks.)

This was inspired by the discussion on a prompt you made ages ago, actually! Here's the post. The main prompt isn't the inspiration, however. It was the comment about Danny joining the JL and [insert spiderman meme here].

Let's see if I have anything I can add. (I changed things enough when posting the first bits that everything else I have doesn't fit anymore.)

Eh, fine. Just went through and wrote another 600 words.

-----

Danny winced. “Yes, Uncle Cl— Kal. Uncle Kal.” Danny glanced next to him and realized Constantine had moved several feet away and was deliberately trying to not attract attention. He bit back a smile and pulled on the Prince Phantom persona Queen Dora had forced him to learn. “Thank you for your assistance, Laughing Magician. I now declare our deal complete and will make no further claims on you.” He waved his hand producing a piece of parchment which he handed over. “As promised, your payment.”

Constantine grabbed the paper and backed away quickly. “Great. Glad to do business with you, your highness. Hope your family reunion goes well. I’ll just—” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, then changed something and disappeared through a portal even as several of the League members present tried to yell at him to stop.

Danny rolled his eyes as he fell back into his more relaxed demeanor. “Oh, please. What more did you want from him? I’ll talk to Uncle Kal and he can decide what is important to pass on. Magician Constantine already told you most of what he knows.”

“Just… come on, Danny,” said Uncle Clark. “We need to talk.”

---

Finding a place to talk to Danny wasn’t the problem, Clark quickly realized. Shaking off his coworkers, however… Bruce in particular did not want to be left out. And Wally was too curious to be put off.

“Danny?” called Clark when he realized the kid wasn’t with him.

“By the viewing window,” said Bruce. “He seems to enjoy the view.”

“Right. Should’ve guessed.” Clark cursed himself silently for forgetting how much the kid loved space. “Batman, please. I know you like to know everything. But can I just talk to my nephew alone? I’ll explain everything I can after, but I need to know how this situation could’ve happened in my own family without my knowledge first without you being there inserting Opinions.”

“Very well. I’ll collect Flash and we’ll leave the two of you alone. But I expect a full report after.”

“I’ll make a peach cobbler, Ma’s recipe, and head to the Manor tomorrow to tell you everything.”

“I’ll let Nightwing know.”

Clark sighed. “I’ll make two cobblers.”

Bruce’s lips twitched upward, but he turned without saying anything more. “Flash! Since this matter is going to be delayed, I believe you still have to file your report on the incident last week.”

Clark chuckled as Flash protested. But he didn’t listen to their discussion, instead joining Danny by the viewing window. He settled an arm around his nephew’s shoulders. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

“I can’t believe you get to come up here and look out at the stars any time you want.”

“I don’t get up here as much as I’d like, I’m afraid. And when I am up here, it’s because something somewhere is going wrong so I don’t get to appreciate it as much as I’d like to.”

“So, if you’re an alien, does that mean Dad’s an alien, too? Is that why he is the way he is? Am I part alien?”

Clark laughed and ruffled Danny’s hair. Like this, it felt almost insubstantial, like passing his hand through mist. “Fraid not, kid. No one knows why your dad is the way he is. I can’t remember how often he was tested for the meta gene.”

“Once a year every year from the time he was six until he was twenty-two and graduated undergrad and started living on his own. Then he stopped for a few years. Until he started dating Mom. He accidentally broke her apartment door once and she insisted he get tested again.”

Clark wanted to laugh, but all he could remember was Danny’s earlier statement. “Danny… Are you…safe with your parents?”

-----

Again, anyone is free to continue this! If anyone wants, I can combine everything into one post to make it easier to do so.

[aurumacadicus]

101 for the ask meme?

Steve hadn't really understood what Colonel Rhodes had meant by "Tiberius Stone ruins Tony's day simply by existing" until he finally attended a gala with Tony. Watching Tony's eyes go wide with surprise, his face go ashen, his plastic smile stretching his wan face automatically before the dismay even truly registered in Steve's mind, it left him feeling hollowed out.

It reminded him of the face his ma made when his da's footsteps in the stairwell were heavy with drink.

Steve clocked Tiberius immediately. He was tall, handsome. Blond and blue-eyed. It made Steve think about early in his relationship with Tony, and the fear on his face when Steve moved too fast or too sharply--made him think about the apologies and the excuses Tony had made when Steve had asked if he'd done something wrong. Tiberius's smile reminded Steve of Tony's when he was being asked a question he didn't particularly like at press conferences; like he was lying, and everyone knew it, but he'd done so in such a way that the person calling him on it would be an asshole to say so. Except somehow Tiberius's smile was worse, because he looked like he enjoyed making people uncomfortable.

Steve wasn't great at rich person stuff, but he was good at putting distance between people he didn't want to talk to, so he carted Tony around the gala three times to talk to different people before Tony noticed. Tony had given him a look of speculation, then surprise, then fondness, before he'd rolled his eyes and shaken his head with a disappointed sigh and said, "I have to talk to him, Steve."

"I'll go with you," Steve offered, but Tony just rolled his eyes again. "I want to go with you."

"Yeah, well, I don't want you to punch Tiberius in the teeth, and I know you want to," Tony replied, amused and annoyed at the same time somehow, and then shook Steve's hand off his arm so he could work his way around the gala alone.

Steve retreated to the bar, getting two large ginger ales with lemon, and tried not to break either of the glasses in frustration as he wondered if this was a Rich People Thing or a Tony Thing. At least he could understand Rich People Things. Tony Things usually just made him sad.

Tony sat down next to him a few minutes later, and Steve slid one of the glasses to him. He waited a beat, just watching Tony for a moment, but his face was impassive. He opened his mouth. "So, are you--"

"I'm okay, thank you," Tony cut in, sharp but quiet. "Just please, stop talking to me."

Steve tilted his head, considering. Tony didn't look okay. He looked... blank. Like a slate. But then, at a gala, where there were tons of photographers and gossip magazine writers, perhaps the conversation wasn't necessary. Not right now.

"I stepped on some lady's foot," Steve told the bartender. "The one wearing the teal shrug. How much trouble am I in?"

"The hostess?" the bartender asked, eyes nearly popping out of her head, and Tony choked on his ginger ale.

[kteezy997]

OMG “best friend’s sister” keeps getting better and better!! please tell me there will be a 4th part

my best friend’s sister-part four(the end)//t.c.

Warnings: angst, secret relationship, upset reader, mention of sex

“Trent’s here.” Timmy said.

"Okay, I'm not gonna tip toe around it anymore.” you said, walking out of the bedroom.

"What?! Y/N!" he followed you, hurriedly, out into the living area. "What are you doing?"

"You messed it up, Timothee. I can't hide while my brother is here. We are practically caught already."

He sighed, "Okay. So what do we do now?"

"We're gonna tell him."

"And he's going to kill me."

"I'll tell him it was my idea. Which it was. Maybe we just shouldn't mention the bathroom thing at his birthday party." You walked over to the door and opened it to reveal your brother.

Trent's eyes nearly popped out of his head upon seeing his sister, "Y/n? What the hell are you doing here?” He looked over at Timothée, then back at you, “What is going here?”

"Timmy and I have been hooking up.” you admitted to him, “I mean, not really even hooking up, it was just a couple of times."

He glared over at Timmy, his best friend. The disgust and betrayal was evident on his face. It quickly turned into anger.

But as Trent made a move toward Timmy, you stopped him, holding him back by the arm, "But I started it. He didn't want to at first. He's the innocent one. Don't do anything stupid, Trent, please.”

"He took advantage of you!"

"No! It was me, I swear. And it's over now. Don’t let this come between your friendship. It shouldn’t end because of me.”

Timmy's attention went from guarding himself from Trent's offense to you. He frowned when you looked over at him, looking almost sad.

"Now, I'm gonna leave. You guys just go on with your night, play your games, as if this… thing never happened. Because that's what I'm going to do."

Trent sighed, then composed himself, “I can't be mad at either of you, really. I mean, even if you wanted to be together, I would try to support you, because I love you both. You're my family."

You were surprised at your brother's mature response. He must have really heard you. The respect he had for both you and Timmy had shown.

"Thank you, Trent, but that's not necessary. It's not going to turn into anything." you said, with as much confidence as you could muster.

"It's not?" Timmy spoke up for the first time in several minutes.

You looked at him, shook your head 'no,' "I should go." With that, you walked out of Timmy's apartment.

........

You felt yourself shaking as you left. You were devastated at ending things with Timmy. You didn't think you'd feel anything for him other than lust. You knew it was just a fun little fling, but somehow your heart had gotten in the way.

With the four years between you and the different stages of life you were in, you were probably still just a kid in his eyes. Not someone he'd take seriously enough to date, no matter how good the sex was.

Tears welled in your eyes. You were still glad he was your first. You knew that he still cared for you, no matter what. Even if he didn't care for you in the same way you did for him.

"Y/n! Wait!"

You were shocked to hear your name, to hear his voice. You wiped your eyes quickly before turning around.

"I can't let you leave like this. You can't possibly think that I want this to end." Timmy said, panting lightly as he'd been running.

"Oh, well I don't think I wanna hook up anymore, after all."

"No, that's not what I mean. I don't want us to stop seeing each other. I don't really care if we ever have sex again."

Your eyes widened at the bold statement from him.

"Well," he thought a second, "hopefully it wouldn't come to that. But what I wanna tell you is that I like you. I like spending time with you, I like the memes you send me, and I love how cute you look in my shirt."

You smiled, knowing that you were blushing hard, but you didn't care. You felt like you were in a movie, but it was even better. You adored this beautiful man, and he was reciprocating.

"Would you maybe want to keep spending time together? Not a hookup, not boyfriend-girlfriend, no labels. Just see where it goes?"

You nodded, feeling so happy and relieved, "Yes." you put your hands on his cheeks and pecked his lips.

Timmy smiled in your kiss, and pulled you into a hug, "My cock is all yours, by the way." he whispered in your ear.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @mel-vaz @thatoneweirdgirl17 @iwishchalamet @jindongdongie @elloise0 @rennyd26 @briefkittenearthquake @that-one-fangirl69

[watchingblsnowandforever]

Hello!!!! =D

So. We Are ep 13. I don't how they do this, but they keep making every episode better than the last. At this rate, I'll not be able to survive episode 16.

Warning: long post 😊😅 (there will be a smol part 2 because 30 screenshots are definitely not enough.)

We have the Best Parents in BL, but now I present to you: The Best Aunt in BL.

Subtle, Aunt Pui, real subtle. 😭

I get her. She just wants a nice, handsome boyfriend for her nephew. 😌

First of all, the symbolism is hitting me right in the face, but it's also so subtle because no one else knows the whole story, so they wouldn't be able to figure it out.

Secondly. Yes, the red and blue do clash a bit, and it's not the prettiest little painting. But. Not every painting has to be "pretty" or perfect. Just like feelings or emotions in real life. Peem didn't willingly draw over his precious painting because he thought it'd look better; he did it because he wanted it to express his feelings. This also ties into Peem's insecurity at having (apparently) failed at being Phum's comfort zone because see, in the painting it looks like the sea is embracing the roses, or protecting them.

What I'm trying to say, is that what makes art beautiful is not just what you directly see on the canvas/right in front of you. And this applies even to the "pretty" ones. The David is not just famous because it looks very good, but also because of the amount of skill and talent Michelangelo had to be able to create such a thing from a block of marble. (I'm sorry I'm not good at examples or analogies 😭)

Sir. What business do you have, making an expression like that and giving me a heart attack.

If I haven't said this before: find a man who looks at you like Phum (Pond) looks at Peem (Phuwin).

Two sides of the same coin.

Phum still feels guilty (which is very clear from his reaction to what Peem says) about ruining Peem's painting, so he wants to do something to make sure nothing like that ever happens to Peem again.

Peem is long over it (you don't ever forget shit like that, but he has definitely forgiven Phum). He met Phum because of that Incident™, and he has a new, upgraded painting, so this is just a light joke for him. But the moment he sees it's too soon for Phum, he immediately goes to reassure him he's just kidding, and he absolutely does not hold it over Phum.

A simple pinky promise, but how much does it mean to Phum?

He's never had someone to make a pinky promise with; Fang was in a similar situation as him, and Beer knew better to make a promise and have it broken by forces outside his control.

So this, this small, childish gesture means quite a bit to him. (Which is also probably why having broken it hurt him so much.)

And yet Peem, you're smiling so wide while saying that. Almost like *le gasp* you actually like it!

Let's be real here, Peem. You don't mind at all. In fact, you sounded unbearably fond saying this. You were quite literally giggling and kicking your feet. (Which fits my headcanon of him pretty well actually.)

This shot. Just >>>> (actually thinking of making it my header-)

Ma boy never misses a chance 😭👍🏼

And if he doen't get a chance, he makes one and nails that too. <3

SO CUTEE 🥺🫶🏼

Oh the teasing is on.

Pun: I did that 😌

Beer: Idiots in love. Again. *exasperated sigh*

[From this point on, I am extremely sleep deprived, so most comments made will probably (definitely) be forgotten by the time I wake up (I'm going right to sleep after posting this.]

Well, Chain, I'm sorry to be the one telling you this, but Phum moved into Peem's heart like 6 episodes ago.

Well, yeah, but Peem has to act at least a little bit like the tsundere he is, right?

Chain: "Well, can a cupid shoot an arrow at himself?"

Toey: *very telling side-eye*

Q: You really think one flirty line will trigger his half braincell to understand what he didn't in the past however many years? ...go on, I wanna see how this turns out

Pun: *pikachu meme face*

Beer: Oh damn here goes another one, we must be nearing the last episode

Phum: ????

Peem: Don't say anything don't say anything DON'T SAY ANYTHING DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING SAY A SINGLE WORD- (internally: Idiots. They're idiots.)

Ah, I love the sibling energy here. Also, initially I was like nah you're more like Tan. But then I gave it some thought. And had a Realization: he really is the Fang in their relationship, and Q really is the Tan. (I do not have the brainpower to explain rn, but tell me if you want me too, I'll include it in Part 2.)

Phum can't wait. (And neither can Peem, because I didn't see ya denying anything, babe. Instead, you gave him the softest shoulder bump in the history of soft shoulder bumps and that bigass (smitten) smile.

Oh boy this scene.

Right before this, when Peem called Phum immediately after the last brushstroke, I was smiling so hard and giggling like yesss do boyfriend-y things with each other!

Him waiting on the porch: still big smile. Here comes Phum! Ooh are they gonna flirt in the car??

My smile started dimming as the seconds ticked by and no Phum appeared on screen.

Until I finally realized what was happening.

I almost stopped breathing.

And as the scene went on my heart broke a little more with every text and every call, and I was watching that mall scene again. Except it was much much worse this time.

So long story short, I was heartbroken for both of them. Especially when Peem showed up alone with the saddest lost-kitten face ever.

But, at this point I knew Phum must have had something really urgent/unaviodable to miss his meeting with Peem because 1. He really really loves that boy and 2. He was very much looking forward to doing this with Peem.

Unfortunately, I will have to end Part 1 here (please don't kill me), and I'm loathe to end on a sad note, but I promise the next part will be much happier. It will hopefully be posted a little later today.

If you got this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊

Here, have a pudding 🍮

My previous We Are posts.

[mamawasatesttube]

a snippet of chapter 2 of androecia, complete with meme accompaniment:

“Coffee sounds great.” Tim hesitates, hovering awkwardly just out of arm’s reach. He hates this. He’s not supposed to feel awkward around Kon. “Need me to do anything?”

“Uh…” Kon glances up, clearly searching for a task to assign Tim. “Well, you could take the coffee over to the table if you want, but I got it, honestly, so you can just go sit down if you want.”

Tim likes to feel useful. He takes the coffee to the table.

Kon follows him with the plate of artfully-glazed cinnamon rolls. He doesn’t bump Tim’s shoulder with his own as he passes him, or playfully nudge his shin under the table once they’ve sat. It’s almost like… he doesn’t want to touch him at all. Guiltily, Tim wonders if Kon did notice how rapidly he pulled his hand away after waking up.

But… the cinnamon rolls. His mouth waters. He’ll worry about that in a minute. First, there’s some beautiful pastries on a plate calling his name. His stomach rumbles again, and he stares as Kon pushes the first one onto his plate.

Shit, they really do smell heavenly, and they look it, too; they’re the perfect golden-brown color, drizzled with a tantalizing vanilla topping. Holy shit, Kon is spoiling him.

They sit in silence for a minute or two while Tim ravenously inhales his first cinnamon roll. It tastes like heaven on his tongue—what little of it he actually tastes in his haste to scarf it down, anyway. He doesn’t even bother with utensils; he just grabs that shit with his bare hands and dives right in. By the time it’s gone, his fingers are sticky with cinnamon-sugar and vanilla icing, and he pauses briefly to lick them before he snatches the next cinnamon roll from the serving plate.

Kon eats at a more sedate pace, chuckling as Tim continues stuffing his face like some kind of feral raccoon. “I take that to mean you like ‘em?” he asks, sipping his coffee.

“Howy fuckin’ shi’bawws, yeff,” Tim says, as best he can manage through a large mouthful of cinnamony-sweet goodness.

Kon laughs. “Ma’s astrally projecting through me to tell you not to talk with your mouth full, bro.”

Tim flips him off with a cinnamon-sticky finger, and Kon grins back at him. This, at least, feels normal.

By the time he’s on the third roll, though, he’s much more sated, and his thoughts start to wander from the realm of holy fucking shitballs, yum, get in my mouth forever. He eats more slowly, watching Kon finishing up his second one; the silence is companionable, but not as easy as it should be.

That’s when Tim finally notices that both his coffee and Kon’s are rapidly stirring themselves in their mugs, sitting on the table. That’s a huge red flag that Kon’s nervous. He’s probably so busy trying to keep himself from fidgeting with his body that he’s not paying attention to the outlet his TTK found, or else he was banking on Tim being too distracted by his brunch to notice.

Tim bites the inside of his lip and stares down at the cinnamon roll in his hands. It’s really, really good. Kon made him a scrumptious breakfast after everything he did for him last night. He’s still taking care of him even now. And he’s nervous.

kon: malewife mode engaged tim:

[austonwithan-o]

“Don’t look, it’s not worth it.”

Literally obsessed with this man so I had to write something… I’ll make a master list eventually

!!!No warnings really just kissing

(Not edited… I’ll edit later)

“Baby I’m gonna take a shower, care to join me?” Auston asked with a slightly playful tone at the end. He got up and stretched emphasizing the veins on his tatted arm. You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “I just showered and plus we both know if I get in the shower with you it’s gonna be hours before we get out.” You said curling under the warm comforter. He gave your butt a light smack, “I’ll be fast.” He said grabbing a fresh towel you just folded at the edge of the bed. You shut your eyes for a few minutes, replaying the conversation you had with Steph at brunch that morning.

“Y/n it’s not even worth it! Auston doesn’t look at his DMs and he doesn’t even care what those girls say!” The blonde said, sipping her margarita, “please it’s not worth reading what they say. It’ll just make you miserable, I’ve been through it, most of the WAGs have been through it and it’s my job to keep you, my bestest friend, away from potential heartbreak.” Tossing her words around in your head and decided she was ultimately right, you backed off for a bit. You knew Auston wasn’t seeing anyone else behind closed doors but the question of what those girls in his DMs were saying to him was burning your brain and you needed answers!

Auston took long showers so you knew you still had a bit of time before he got out. Crawling across the big bed, you unplugged his phone from the charger and clicked it on reluctantly tapped the instagram app. Nothing looked odd, just a few hundred new instagram followers, comments and likes. He had a few DMs but you knew it was him and Mitch’s meme war goin on. His DM requests were filled and you felt your stomach drop a bit. Hesitantly you open them and what you saw made your breath catch in your throat. His inbox was littered with fans genuinely saying nice things but most of them were girls gawking at him. You scrolled for what seemed like hours reading things like, “you could do so much better Auston” “I’m always down for a fuck if you’re in Phoenix” “I can’t believe your still with that puck bunny skank” That’s the one that really got you. “Why is he with me?” You thought, tears welling up in your eyes. You kept scrolling reading more and more you didn’t hear the water turn off. Minutes later Austin stepped out with a towel dangerously low on his waist but you were too caught up reading to notice.

Your eyes were glued to his phone still in shock at all the mindless hate you were getting. “Y/n what are you lookin at?” His face looked slightly confused. He soon saw the red in your eyes and the sniffles coming from your nose. He quickly threw on his boxers. “Whoa whoa baby what’s wrong?” He asked scooting over to you, effortlessly scooping you into his lap pulling the covers over the both of you. He grabbed his phone and saw the DM of the girl asking him for a quick fuck. His expression shifted into worry, “Y/n you know I’d never cheat on you right baby? I never read these.” Your head hung low and you could feel the tears welling up into your eyes trying your hardest not to let them spill. You didn’t know if you should feel worse for looking through his phone or the comments you just read. You felt yourself slipping deeper into his embrace, his scent overtaking your senses, his freshly showered hair dripping beads of water onto your face and shoulders, calming you down. The tears started streaming and your breathing got shaky. “Auston why are you with me?” He grabbed your chin lightly turning your face to meet his eyes. “Y/n why are you asking me that? You’re the reason I get up every morning, you’re the reason I thank God everyday for a new day, baby I can’t imagine a life without you. I love you with my whole being y/n and you need to understand that.” The tears kept pouring out of your eyes like a fountain making him hold you closer. You tried looking away but his grip on your chin wouldn’t let you. His lips connected to yours making you melt into his touch. You shifted your body, swinging your legs over his sides, straddling him, arms lazily around his neck. His arms wrapped around around your waist pulling you even closer into the kiss his mustache tickling you making you smile into it. “I love you y/n. I hope you know that.” This man was whipped on you and you knew it and he knew it too.

PLEASE REQUEST THINGS I NEED MORE IDEAS TO WRITE!!!

[missmouse43]

[g0nta-g0kuhara]

why do u think people r so ashamed of loving danron??

I mean, honestly, there's a lot of reasons, which makes it kind of complicated to tackle. I can list out a few from the top of my head, based on personal experience Feeling the shame and observation of other fans

•The problematic content in the games themselves. People feel embarrassed to like the other parts of the game because of the amount of bigoted moments (and sometimes whole characters) within these games. They don't want people to think they like those parts too, so they couch their appreciation in embarrassment.

•The reputation of the fanbase. On tumblr at least, things have normalized significantly and I find this fandom a very chill place to be. But the danganronpa fandom at its peak (2012-2016ish) was RABID. Like any major tumblr fandom, there was tons of drama, discourse, and toxic fan behaviour, but DR was genuinely on another level. This is especially true because of the young average age of members of the fandom at the time. Even though thats not generally true anymore on tumblr, this fandom still has that reputation to non-fans, and so people don't want to be associated with it.

•Cringe culture. At its peak, the DR fandom on tumblr was made mostly of teens, especially younger teens. I think the earnest way young teens participate in fandom led to it being seen as cringe, just like many other fandoms. Also, even outside of its problematic content, DR's plot can be weird and, frankly, even completely ridiculous. Similar to hom/estuck, I think this esotericness adds to people's kneejerk reaction to it when hearing about it second hand.

•The tendency of tumblr to turn on popular media when the magic is gone. This is something I've noticed with a lot of tumblr's number 1 big fandoms. Once a lot of people's interest in it starts wearing off, for some reason people will pivot to hating it. It happened with T/MA a little, it happened with Und/ertale, it happened with S/U, and so many other fandoms that tumblr went crazy over initially. Maybe its because these fandoms became so vocal they started to annoy those not participating, so they started to meme and make fun of it and its fans. Then, when people start to leave as their interests change, they join in on the teasing to displace the shame they might've felt from being teased. Eventually, people usually turn around and come to appreciate the piece of media casually again. That didn't really happen with DR... probably because of the other three reasons.

DR gained this reputation of being "irredeemable, problematic, cringe media" with a toxic fanbase and never shook it off. Before I played DR, I knew nothing about it except that tumblr hated it, for some reason. I had learned literally nothing else through fandom osmosis! And I think that general feeling, that Good People who like Unproblematic Things* (*requirement of being a good person) would never touch DR with a 10 foot pole outside of to make fun of it, sticks with people.

So when people finally check it out, usually through irony-poisoned letsplays of it, and end up actually liking it, they don't know what to do with themselves. How do you balance genuinely liking this piece of media with the site-wide perception youve grown so used to? With the idea that everyone will hate you if they know you like it, that you are a bad person for even posting about it? And thats how you get everyone's first DR post having a caption essentially communicating "im so sorry for posting about dr- I know its terrible and associating myself with this game makes me look disgusting- people who've followed me up until now, please dont hate me!"

[britt-kageryuu]

It's early evening, things are calm, and Donnie is playing as a Horrible Goose. He has his model dressed in his Dinosaur Onesie, and matching slippers, and on the purple inflatable chair, against a background that made it look like he mas next to a pond somewhere. Animated turtles are swimming in said pond, including a softshell that keeps popping up to 'bite' the chair.

"This game very much matches my more mild Cain Instincts. Maybe I'll recommend this to Blue later. Though I must make sure he's never seen anything about the game first. Dubious Chuckle." Donnie does lets out a sinister sounding chuckle. "Clears Throat. I mean, I must be sure he plays this blind, it would be more entertaining! For you, and for me ofcourse."

Suddenly a loud mechanical hiss and growl could be heard, that startles Donnie. He quickly paused the game, and removed his headphones to check out what made the noise. His model goes off screen which reveals an animated red eared slider now basking on the seat of the chair. It has a little speech bubble that says 'BRB!!'

Chat goes nuts with many already creating Conspiracy Theories, while others are spamming how cute the little turtle animations look.

A few minutes later Donnie comes back, sits back down, and puts his headphones back on, all while looking mildly annoyed.

"Annoyed Sigh. Before anyone asks, that was River. A while back I bought her a game to keep her distracted that she wanted. But now she's annoyed because there is currently a bug that crashes the game every few times she cooks, and she also can't find a collectable, and every search result for it's location is one she already got." He decides to take his frustration out on the glasses wearing kid that is needed to continue the area puzzles/to-do list. "We believe the Collectables might not be labeled properly in the guides because of a different set where the first one in the list order is the last you collect for the area."

He proceeded to steal a bunch of random stuff from the market stalls, even stuff not necessary for the task list. Honking all the while.

"I wonder how hard it would be to re-skin the Goose into something else? I'll try that out later. As for Rivers game problem? It's apparently a common issue, and many have a similarly problem. Including one of the lists saying an item is missing, when the list is fully checked off."

A donation notification goes off that gets 'chased' off the screen by a goose with a purple bandana and Donnies goggles.

"Thank you for the donation, but the message was cut off, again. I guess that's another thing to work on later!" Donnie suddenly stretches out his body while still sitting. Arms stretched above his head with his hands clasped together, his legs held out straight with his slipper covered feet at slightly odd angles. Slight cracks or pops can be picked up by the mic. Ending with a loud yawn from Donnie himself.

"It's still early, but I feel like it's much later, must be from staying up too late last night watching memes... and I'll do it again tonight because I don't always control how easy it is to sleep! Light laugh, or would it be joking?" Donnie looks upward while thinking. He then pulls out his phone to check something. "Darn, it's definitely too late to have my preferred drink, and I'm being lightly threatened to get to sleep before midnight. The horror!"

He says all of this is such a deadpan tone that chat doesn't know how to interpret the moment.

"Okay, let's get the next area completed, then I will have to swim off to dinner. So let's embrace the goose, and annoy more people!!!"

The stream ends an hour later, with at least 4 new emojis of geese dressed in color coded bandanas, and a accessory to match their turtle counterparts.

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

Masterpost

[lookismaddict]

Lookism Chapter 442 Memes/Thoughts I Have:

(SPOILERS !!! I don’t own any of the Lookism panels and the translations. Only the memes that I made. The sole purpose of this is to provide summaries/reviews for each chapter so if you don’t want to see the rest of it, then just keep scrolling. It’s your choice.)

Time to cry all of our hearts out. 😫

Nuuuuuuuuuu poor babies 😭

OMGGGGG THE FIRST GEN. KINGS ARE HERE!!!!! AHHHHHHHH BRO I GOT MAD GOOSEBUMPS 😩

Ugh, this is making me feel touched and all. Everyone gathered in one place because they really respected him. Bruh, Imma cry again 😭😭😭 I hope Taesoo Ma, Gongseop Ji, and the rest of the First Generation would somehow investigate his death and avenge Jichang. 🙏🏽

YEEEEESSSSS DANIEL HAS ANOTHER ALLY!!!!! YESSSSS LET'S BUILD THIS CHARLES CHOI HATECLUB!!! 🔥

OHHHHHH. MYYYYYYY. GOOOOOOOD. JAKE IS SO FREAKING CUUUUUUUUUUUTE AS A LITTLE KID!!!!! AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH GOD, I JUST WANNA HUG HIM AND CRADLE HIM IN MY ARMSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!! 😩😩😩❤️❤️❤️❤️

HE REALLY IS CUTE THO WHEN HE WAS LITTLE. WHO WOULDN'T WANNA JUST GRAB HIS CHEEKS, PINCH THEM, GIVE HIM A PIGGYBACK RIDE, AND HUG HIM AND SQUEEZE HIM????? 🥺🥺💞💞💞💞

Ohhhh shiiiii, Jake gonna meet with Daniel there and THEY'RE GOING TO TEAM UP AND FIND JINYOUNG PARK AND TAKE DOWN THE FIRST AFFILIATE LIKE THE ACTUAL BOSSES THAT THEY ARE. 😎

Ohhhhh my- LINEMAN ABOUT TO GET AN UPGRADE!!!! IS THIS GOING TO BE HIS TRAINING ARC??? 👀

AYYYYYYYYYYYYY LETS GOOOOOOOOOO!!!! TIME TO TRAIN LINEMAN!!! BULK UP AND SHAPE UP BRO 💪🏽💪🏽💪🏽💪🏽

Oh shit... 5th Affiliate. 💀 Did I mention that I don't like this phase of Eli? I mean, sure. You're doing this all for your family in Hostel, but there's another way to settle this and provide for them, no? I mean, you got friends bro. You don't have to shoulder the burden on your own. Learn how to depend and rely on those who you hold dear too.

King, it's ok. Just undrown yourself and stop siding with Workers.. 😀

I stg, this twink of a crew leader is afraid of Daniel Park. Little did he know, Daniel and James Lee are actually a team lol. I swear, it's like Eugene blames Daniel for everything now that Daniel tried to interfere with his plans. Mf would now blame him for everything and anything that doesn't work out.

Mandeok: *suddenly walks into Eugene's office* Eugene, the coffee maker isn't working anymo-

Eugene: IT'S HIS FAULT! IT'S ALL DANIEL PARK'S FAULT!!! HE ERADICATED SOME OF MY AFFILIATES, AND NOW HE'S AFTER MY COFFEE MACHINE?! Yuseong: *starts to rock back and forth in his chair, cradling himself while afraid of his brother's psycho outburst*

Come on stink, get it together. You're going coo coo now. I don't know why I thought of Eugene in this scenario. It was funny in my head.

Oh great. NOW, THEY'RE THERE. 🙄

WHO'S GOING 100 MPH ON THE MAIN STREET BRUH??? Also, who tf are YOU mf? 🤨

Also, omg. PTJ, do you always ctrl + c and ctrl + v on your characters' hairstyles or something? Because Warren doesn't look like Zack anymore, but now he looks like-

Like ok, I get it. You're addicted to the copy + paste hairstyles, but I don't wanna have to do this, but... Imma hand over the scissors to Eli and have him end the ctrl + c, ctrl + v era. 😭 Bc, wth is this shit? But they look good tho, ngl.

OHHH NAH NAH NAH NAHHHHHHHH. SOMEONE TAKE HIM BACK, FR. GOO, COME GET YOUR BRO LMAAAAOOOOOO. But oml. EVERYONE'S GOING TO BE AT THE FIRST AFFILIATE, I STG. THEY ALL GOING TO HAVE AN EPIC BATTLE LIKE SMASH BROS. OR SOMETHING, AND THEY'LL GO AT IT, IN ON FINAL BRAWL. And fr Warren, wth have they been feeding Logan for him to get THAT BIG? STEROIDS???

If he took, "I need a big boy" to heart, then I don't want it. 💀💀💀

Nah, it must be all that coke protein powder. Goo gave him a whole bucket of protein powder and Logan would be sniffing and eating it all.

Well, obviously "No." Logan. Also, HOT DOC IS BACK!!! Ofc he is. He's the main star of the First Affiliate.

THERE HE ISSSSSSS, THE MAIN MAN OF THE HOUR!!! 😩 LOOK AT HIM BEING ALL TOUCHY WITH ELI!!! Tbh I didn't know how to feel ab that. "Put these away, motherfucker." YTFJTYFGUYKGFJYGUHKIFUDFKILLUGYKF I'M LMFAOOOOOOOOOO ELI REALLY DOESN'T GIVE A SHIT ANYMORE. HE'S SO DONE.

What did he mean by "I'm not sure though?" 😀 Also, the way Logan said, "How cute is this bastard... Should I give you a kiss?" and Warren replying with, "I'm taken, so no thanks." MAN, WHAT IF YOU WEREN'T TAKEN? THEN WHAT? 🤨 ALSO, THE WAY HE SAID HE'S "taken" NOW BC HE HAS SALLYAHSIDFHSDFIUSHDFIUW. AAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH THAT GOT ME SCREAMING.

AWWWWWW MAAAAAAAAN, I wOnDeR wHo CoUlD tHaT bE ??? Definitely, not Daniel Park.

OH MY GOD. ARE WE FR GETTING A LOGAN LEE VS. DANIEL PARK SHOWDOWN NEXT CHAPTER???? AYOOOOO??? HE'S GOING TO SEE DANIEL'S CURRENT FORM????????? AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH I'M SQUEALINGGGG!!! 😆😆😆😆

"Will Logan Lee face off with Daniel Park soon? Will they ever find Jinyoung Park now? Who will be the next to arrive at the First Affiliate??? Tune in, next time ONNNN-"

Yeah man, F this.

[katyspersonal]

(Responding remaining asks for the ask post in a bundle)

Thank you 🥺 But hey, you only won't have more Soulsborne knowledge than me with THIS attitude!! You gotta believe in yourself! XD

_____________________

THANK YOU SO MUCH!! Also I feel like I know who you are XD

That guy, honestly.. I remember giving him some thoughts and analysis that I am still proud of even back in time before I was aware of finer details and translation errors. He felt like someone very real and full of nuances even in my "sounds like creep" era, and then first character I wrote a good analysis on! I take credit for popularising the knowledge about English localisation completely skewing him, because despite LP's document being in access for years nobody fished out THOSE details from it until me!! It took deliberate searching with the purpose of learning THE character!!!! 😎

I miss my more "unalloyed" version of Gehrman though, such a real cold dead-inside man, saved and adopted from abusive house but with the demons inside left forever, whose lack of empathy made him perfect hunter and whose sole true positive emotion in life was meeting Maria but then he took a massive L fsdhdsh I blame @fantomette22 for softening my general perception of him though by just standing there!!! You and your soft ass! GET OVER HERE-

_____________________

^ This one was sent during me typing this post! Thank you very much, this is a lot of praise.. т.т I am self-conscious about my art and feel like the only way to improve is to get a teacher, which can't be organised any time soon, but I am happy you enjoy it as it is still!

(and I am sure your personality is great as well <:3 )

_____________________

Which 'hot' takes? My takes at cooking that chicken @heraldofcrow JUST right? Well this makes sense I guess dfshhsd

fdjhshdsf okay seriously, thank you XD I am not good at dignified, intelligent way of describing my theories that sounds like telling a sad tale or a scary legend that I see some people do both in text and podcasts.. Hell, some of such posts sound like small fanfics! And I sure as hell don't want to accidentally slip into the unapproachable, humourless "let me educate you peasants" tone (it is hard to not even notice)! So the only option left for me as a wordy kind of loredigger was to unleash my inner clown!! I heard people say that adding jokes and cursed memes in the middle of sharing a theory is actually relaxing, so I am glad I am this way <:3

Also really not tryna become a "contrarian" kind of user, we do NOT have a shortage of blogs that throw a shade at the fandom trust me! But what do I do when I also have a lot to say... 🙄 Aren't we all just people who desperately try to not be Hunters until beasts come at OUR doorstep?

_____________________

This is what you see in a Petri dish you've put me in after 2 minutes:

Yes I know I used this image today already you just made it VERY hard to not do it again sdhhfsdsd Anyways, thank you!!

_____________________

Thank you! I hope you still like them!!

I'd actually say that anyone can make really unique headcanons and interpretations! My secret is actually to minimise exposure to the takes in the fandom until I've came up with my idea to offer! It helps me to jump into a metaphorical pillowfort with @val-of-the-north when a character or a question interests us and brainstorm the ideas; I do the suggestions, intuition, right questions and imagination part, whereas he does finding the most obscure gameplay consequences, finds obscure images from the furthest corners of the internet and remembers literally every detail that could help or debunk like a supercomputer! *sets the 'days since praising Val on public' counter back to 0 AGAIN fhsdhds*

THEN I hop on Tumblr and offer my idea and look what other people say (with rare exceptions about smaller things). Key word is, 'THEN'! I've met many people who were shocked when I informed them that what they assumed was canon in fact was just a popular fanon! Many people make the same mistake: they see many people doing [thing] and just assume it has to be legit then and never double check for selves! This ensures less variety of interpretations with all (designs, ships, story, portrayals and takes) which is a bit disheartening! Just remember to 1) look at the source material with clear eyes, only consulting wikis and reference videos, for example to know about questline or item you've missed 2) communicate with the fandom about a topic when you DO have your own idea already, this will me mutually enriching for both and 3) never simply take majority's word as canon! And then you will be like me! x)

You will ALSO be like me if you add Spongebob meme within a serious theory and organise dash wars with your mutuals but that's for another story fdshfhsd