#losing my utter mind

[cityelf]

Left is MY FIC, right is the ACTUAL BOOK QUOTE IT WAS INSPIRED BY

(Mask context: masquerade ball / cinderella au)

It has been doing numbers EVERYWHERE and I only found out from this lovely person who commented on Ao3:

So yeah I guess if anyone wants to read an 8 year old Song of Achilles fanfic written in a fever dream after watching Into The Woods, be my guest

[alexturntable]

🖤💛

[moon1ee]

there is something to be said about jimmy’s death. something to be said about a curse looming over his head that they keep mentioning, as if repetition will dull the pain, will cause the bleeding wound to scab over and form calluses. something to be said about bdubs throwing himself forward, shouting “KILL ME”, something about joel trying to sacrifice himself. the love was there. so was the fear. the canary sings a warning. then comes the bloodshed.

grian watches joel out of the corner of his eye, taking slow steps over the ramshackle bridge that looks over the server. joel sprints ahead, careless, movements strange and distorted, body tensed, fingers curling. the setting sun flashes red back into his eyes. a bloodied reflection. he is being reckless. he is going crazy. grian remembers last life, remembers passing through and hearing joel’s ear-spitting screaming, remembers cracking open a laugh as bloodlust that should not exist under stained green thrums through him. HOW ARE YOU DOING, JOEL, he called, and there is a snarl in response. “going a bit mad, going a bit MENTAL.”

joel was, in a word. dedicated. the best of them. the worst of them. grian remembers a pack of wolves, remembers fingers curling into pale fur, remembers agonized cries as the dogs fell.

he cannot ignore the similarities. run, rabbit, run.

he makes plans, he plots. he feels the time tick down. sends down explosives. one takes out four. he laughs, ear-splitting, thinks, i’m learning.

four. five. six. seven. he loses count. he doesn't stop.

joel’s teeth keep flashing.

grian sneaks down, around, ducks his head, whispers allyship to bigb and pearl, feels eyes humming around them.

he will not stop planning. he needs allies, in a place like this, after he loses his.

joel, he says, just kill me. the man glances at him, once, does not respond.

into battle they go. smoke rises in his lungs. scar, grinning, scar, falling, scar, protesting not to kill his beloved animal.

grian sees a creeper sneak up behind him, almost hisses a warning, stops himself. waits. watches. scar turns his head, jumps back, laughing. he has learned, too.

joel’s time is running out. grian runs after him.

joel is being reckless. he goes after scar. JOEL JUST KILL ME, grian shouts. "NO, NOT YOU," joel screams. "I'LL KILL HIM INSTEAD."

grian remembers a hand that stayed ever dedicated to the coming winter.

DO IT, and joel splits him, and then someone else, and then dies, the absolute fucking idiot, and they are. back where they started. or maybe right where they will end.

joel looks rabid in the moonlight. grian makes plans for when he is gone.

joel, just take one of my lives. just do it. "no," joel says, turning around, eyes searching frantically for something, for butter yellow canary wings that do not fill the space any longer, hands reaching to claw around grian's wrists, nails stinging, drawing blood. "you have to win," he says, pleads, begs, "for us. you have to."

grian says nothing.

joel is being reckless. he runs ahead. “scar-“ grian swallows down the name, frantic at the flash of red rushing off without him. JOEL.

lightning, singing his back. he turns. silent. shocked. remembers a hand’s agonized scream. remembers an attempt at revenge that ended him.

the bad boys were never that army of dogs in renchanting, were never loyal enough for it. too brittle, too untrusting, even jimmy. especially jimmy.

there is a tombstone. grian does not grieve. his sorrow is short-lived. he has a new alliance now, new loyalties. ones that may be smarter. it is for the best.

tick tick tick.

his wrists still ache.

edit: cross-posted on ao3!

[day-mark]

i actually cant with these ccs, you say that because q was nice to you personally that means he cant possibly be a bad person. but this entire past month has been ccs harping nonstop about how just because dteam seem nice doesnt mean theyre good people, we never know whats happening behind the scenes and how we shouldnt trust the front they put forward(mind you they say this and act like we should put our full trust into them, someone we also dont know). like do these people hear themselves . seems like its more about their word being law and wanting everyone to only listen to them than it is about warning people of being blinded by rose-colored glasses.

[croziers-compass]

Look at him. That's the guy. Look at his wee hands and his fingerless mittens cradling a cup. Behold my Captain.

[void-tiger]

…sometimes I just. Think about. How literal siblings get stuck with rumors they’re dating, and m-f friendships often don’t get a chance to truly start or develop because of the strain those assumptions and pressure causes…

…while literal same-gender and aspec-affirming couples get slapped with “like siblings” this and “just really good friends” that.

And then how this gets even more reductive with infighting like “m-f friendships can only occur when one of them is homosexual,” or aspecs picking at eachother over rep until it’s a very specific type of aroace on the aroace spectrum of the aspec spectrums (and nobody’s actually happy), and of course fanon ships pitted against gen-no-ships…

…and how everyone just ends up feeling stressed out and invalidated. Because anything—and I do mean anything—that doesn’t fit neatly inside of the heteronormative narrative of “men and women can’t be friends, men and women must be romantically involved, people of the same gender and/or aspec/any other queer identity(ies) must never date.”

And how it makes the queers and cichets alike absolutely miserable.

[pstelwitchcraft]

I love that every single creature this table has ever had on speed dial eventually regrets it, doesn't matter if it's Gods, people, warcrime wizards... i literally cannot wait for fearne to start calling that champion of Asmodeus every time she has a vaguely related question until Asmodeus himself is like "just let her go dude this is way too much work"

[neutron-stars-collision]

I think my late twenties are for having mental breakdowns over the lunch in the office kitchen while also crying-laughing about posts I see on this website. Sounds about right

[chenpire]

my post series recommendation is that if you've never listened to the orchestral version of hero by faouzia while thinking about Wilhelm and Simon's utter trainwreck of a romance, you should. I think you should.

[underskz]

min in black !!! min in white !!!

[dutybcrne]

I need to write up a thing ant how Kazu treats relationships like there will Never be enough time

[torkison]

this world is NOT too much you're right mr camus thank you

[toonbly]

does anyone have the deep fried koopa image with the impact font "IT WOULD BE SO AWFUL. IT WOULD BE SO CRUEL" please please it makes me laugh so fucking hard i need to see it again

[orcelito]

ok 'shadow' is definitely in my favs for the trigun ost too. i have been listening more to the 2nd album but i am returning to the first and wowoweee

[rqnarok]

summary: old man!logan finds himself having a breeding kink.

cws/tags: smut, mdni! old man!logan. fem!reader. heavy breeding kink. dom/sub dynamics. unprotected p in v. pet names. not proofread. 

Logan’s younger self would not approve of this idea. 

Hell, it would not even cross his youthful, unbound, and liberated version. Younger Logan would have brushed off the idea - dodging it like a bullet - revolting against it. 

Having a kid? A noisy five-year-old child running around the house, screaming and kicking everything in sight? Yeah, fuck no. 

He’d even hate just thinking about it. 

But now that years have gone by and he’s almost hitting 200 years of age–a lot has changed in how he sees things, alright. Suddenly he’s not that idealistic-insufferable-annoying fuck anymore.

The heavy feels of his own body, his poor visions, his utter tiredness and wounds are slowly tended by settling down with you. Living in a small countryside home just outside Texas is the life Logan needed all along.

So he just can’t fucking help it when he sees how you act with those children at the Barbeque party. How you treat them with such care as if they’re yours. 

The smile plastered on your face after you give each one of them a cookie is Heaven sent for Logan. He’s too focused on being mesmerized by your acts that he almost does not realize how his trousers feel tighter.

He quickly hides his bulge whilst embarrassed of himself, thinking ‘M fuckin’ old for this shit. But who gives a fuck anyway? 

Oh, he in the past would not approve of this at all. 

“Fuck. You’d look so fuckin’ good with y’r belly swollen with my child.” Logan grunts out, thrusting his girth into you as his mind fills up with visions of you carrying his child. 

The images themselves make Logan go feral—growling when he feels how your velvet walls manage to clench around him.

“A-ah! Please!” The high-pitched noise you let out is almost humiliating as you bounce yourself on top of your husband, making the head hit your gummy spot every time you fall down.

“Hm? Y’want that, Little Missy? Want me t’give you a baby?” His calloused fingers rub shapes on your sticky skin, guiding your hips as he tries to search for the answer in your eyes.

You reply with a frantic nod, your mind feels empty as his tip deliciously kisses your cervix. The thought of being full of his seed, pregnant and giving him a baby—makes your eyes roll back in pleasure.

With one movement, Logan manages to manhandle you to a new position, his cock never slips out from your heat, “Want this old man t’give you one? Make you a momma?” 

The sound of his full balls slapping against your ass makes you squeeze your eyes shut. 

Now clearly hearing the obscene moans emitting through the dim room, “Yeahyeahyea—W-wanna be a momma—”

While you wonder how he still has this much stamina at that age, Logan leans down to your ear and buries his face on your neck, “Pretty wife. Gonna make the cutest goddamn babies, y’know tha’?” 

His palms hold your thighs spread open to reach deeper inside you, “Let me fill ya’ up real good.”

Logan’s eyes flicker to watch your pussy swallow his cock in and out. The sight alone makes him throw his head and let guilt wash him over for a minute.

He feels perverted—corrupting you by plugging his cock to the hilt as if it is trying to mold your insides. A dilemma growing.

You could feel how his thrusts steadily became desperate, “L-Lo.” Whining out, your fingers crawl into his back to pull him tighter. 

He can’t fucking wait to have you round up. Shit. You’d be so dependent on him—need him at all times. And he’d fulfill everything you ask him to do. Logan would never even let you move an inch. 

Everything caught up to him as an acute wave, “F-Fuck. There ya’ go, baby.” Logan mutters - his hands shake slightly as they lose their grip on your thighs. 

His cock never pulling out, “D’ya think it takes, pretty?” You could feel him deep inside you—how your walls are painted by his thick ropes of cum. 

Logan gives lazy circles of his hips before pressing a sweet kiss on your lips, whispering several ‘I love you’s’ before lowering himself so his face could level with your pussy.  

“Fuck.” The older man has never seen a far more beautiful sight than this. Watching his cum begin to leak out of you makes his cock twitches again. 

The scruffy feel of his beard scratches your inner thighs as he leans closer—dragging the tips of his fingers along your folds before plugging his digits back inside. 

“Logan-n!” 

A deep rumble comes out of Logan, “Shh. Be a good girl for your husband, yeah? Need’a to make sure it takes.”

[northstarshine]

makokuu brainrot has entirely encapsulated my brain. i want to put them in a jar and shake them around. i need to dissect these guys and figure out just what the fuck is going on in those dumbass heads. they're so smart but also so stupid for each other. except makoto maybe. he's not that smart

simultaneously love and fucking despise them (positive)

i like imagining that makoto and kusuke are tangentially Aware of each other’s existence due to both being extremely famous people, but that neither care enough to actually look into who the other person is. so one day they meet at some event (maybe they’re giving kusuke a nobel peace prize and makoto is there for Reasons or something. or maybe kusuke is designing the pyrotechnics they’re using as special effects in makoto’s new movie) and get to talking and realize. oh my god. this is the most annoying, abrasive, creepy weirdo i’ve ever met. i hate this guy. then they go home to cyberstalk google each other and realize their siblings are friends and immediately begin having some of the craziest celebrity beef of all time. nobody can figure out why celebrated british scientist Dr. Kusuke Saiki is suddenly shit-talking japanese pop idol Mugami Toru to the press, and furthermore, why Mugami Toru seems to hate him just as much, if not more.

then one day, seemingly out of the blue, they get photographed kissing at a private expensive resort by paparazzi and the media lose it