#maybemore

[doctor-feelings]

Yeah man idk I'm pretty sure I'm married to three people ...maybemore

why am i just learning this wtf

[meademalove]

Well maybemore than that

That's what I mean

[approximateknowledge]

so...

-most windows at the north side (away from the sun), and in the typical square cross shape (obv) but still windows on all sides for lookout purposes; that's also the purpose of lawnrings; no cover for would-be intruders. material-wise it's likely mostly of organic (drone-secreted) origin "3d printed" into blocks (=rooms, not bricks). the fabric is presumably mostly there because sun=bad, but you still need balconies for drone-deliveries.

-upper size limit is definitely caste-bound, but *style* seems more personal. also brings uo the question where kk would even place himself

-kk is a neet who's nocturnal even by troll standards. very sparse living space. crabdad is harder i don't really know there. also hidden bunkers and shit to hide from culling drones obviously.

-see above: kk doesn't need much other than a safe space with internet connection and places to hang up his posters

-the rounded dome-rooves still work... maybemore like a stacked pyramid with a single spherical outcrop? and at least some of the balcony-sails have to stay

~but that's just my overly ranty opinion

Bored in architecture programs class. Time to start designing Karkat's house because why not. Let me go for some references of this prick

God damn it Karkat, this place is garbage. There is no composition, no color, no safety. At least Kanaya and Terezi have some fucking sense of fashio. WHAT IS THIS?

Dull plain boring grey. You're truly a microbe. And your hive is the most boring clean and organized of all

[jamiemarsters]

Pic of the Day: @jamesmarstersof & @thesarahgrey behind the scenes of @theorder #JamesMarsters #SarahGrey #TheOrder #DoesThisCharacterCountAs #CharismaticPsychopath #TM #MaybeMore #CharismaticSociopath #CloseEnough #Also #ThatTimeJamesWasAmishAdjacent #FunTimes https://www.instagram.com/p/CMgC_3YjplM/?igshid=nmk7hks5upa5

[glassofwinetalk]

[thestitcher]

Las Vegas!!!!!! Enjoying a two day trip to spend time with some amazing incredible women. I am so honored to be a part of this squad for the weekend!!!! #lasvegas #ladygaga #onedrinkin #maybemore #delano #comso #fordinner (at Delano Las Vegas) https://www.instagram.com/p/ByeLZLOnUoa/?igshid=1iroof53u4esn

[empatheticagent]

The interview

Ray sat in an armchair, one of a few set up around a coffee table. It was fairly comfortable, but unfamiliar. It was quiet at least. Soft colours and a comfortably warm temperature, yet Ray was nervous. He sat with his feet on the floor, a mug of coffee clutched in his hands.

In a chair beside him sat Marco Ellis who had just recently been given the official position as Ray’s supervising officer, meaning Ray was no longer a Communications monitor, but a field agent in-training. This wasn’t Marco’s office though. The elder agent had simply been invited as support.In an armchair opposite them sat SHIELD Legal Investigator Janine Hadley. The dark haired woman had been hoping to speak to Hartell for months now, but between their schedules along with Ray’s mental and emotional states being so volatile, Janine had been left with little choice but to keep putting it off.

Rather than hand writing notes like she had done for other interviews, Janine set a recording device down on the coffee table between them. 

“Alright. How are you doing Agent Hartell?” She asked, her tone soft and friendly. She tried her best to make interviews seem more casual than like an interrogation. What use was asking questions if she made a witness too nervous to respond? She’d asked around about Hartell’s condition before proceeding and knew trying to be more formal and impersonal would leave her at a very quick roadblock.

“Uh. It- It’s been a rough few weeks, but, I’m picking up again, slowly,” Ray replied, managing a small smile.

“That’s good to hear. You’ve been on leave, yes?”

Ray nodded. “I have, yeah. I... I needed it.” Normally, he wouldn’t even admit such a thing. It was a good sign.

“You’ve been seeing a Psych regularly in your time off?” 

“I have. Outside of SHIELD. He had medical help me find meds that work better for me. And... he’s been better at helping with my powers. And expressing my emotions better.”

Janine smiled and nodded. He did seem better than when she had last met with the empath. He’d still been in medical then and had barely been able to to more than a few words out. He still looked tired though. And in need of a few good meals. She would have to quietly run it by Ellis later, to see if he was able to help work towards fixing that in some way.

“That’s good.” Janine let him sit quietly a moment before continuing. “Now, I wanted to ask you a few questions about your former mentor, Elijah Bancroft...”

Ray had been warned about the topic of the meeting beforehand, yet he still found himself shifting uncomfortably at the name. He glanced at Marco nervously.

“It’s alright,” the shadow-user said gently. “We can go at any time you feel it’s too much, alright?”

Ray slowly nodded and set his coffee down on the table. Marco reached out and offered a hand, palm facing upward and Ray slowly reached out to touch it.

This had been their first training exercise. It may have looked like Marco was simply offering a high-five, but to Ray it was much more than that. He had actually learned the trick from Dr Lawrence and then passed on to Marco. The empty palm upwards both served as a sign of peace and trust and offered Ray physical contact that triggered his powers. It had been discovered that in showing the trust -that Ray wouldn’t use his powers to intentionally harm the other person and that they wouldn’t use it to hurt Ray intentionally- it formed a quick (temporary) psychic link. 

For an hour or so after the contact, Ray would be able to read Marco’s emotions without being effected by them and, more importantly in their current situation, Marco would be able to feel Ray’s without being influenced. This meant that Marco would know when to pull the plug on the meeting, even if Ray wasn’t able to verbally express that he needed to go.

“Okay...” Ray said to Janine, settling back into his chair. “I’m ready.” Or at least as much as he could be.

[tausend-tonnen-glueck]

Wie früher

Auch wenn sie weggezogen ist, Stunden,gefühlt Ewigkeiten von mir und wir kaum noch Kontakt haben, weiß ich, dass ich mich auf sie verlassen kann. Und dass sie sich trotz allem immernoch Zeit für meine Probleme nimmt. Und dass es, trotz all der langen Zeit, die wir uns nicht gesehen haben, wieder wie früher wird. Und wieder würde ich schwach bei ihrem lächeln, und wieder würde der Abschied wehtun. Und wieder würde es schmerzen, da ich zu feige bin um etwas zu sagen. Ja.... Also immernoch genau so wie früher.

[calliemori234]

A bigender person can have both girltits and boytits at the same time, thoughts?

🤯

ffour whole💙tits💙.... maybemore.......💙........imag💙ne...........

[morguemaw]

Hmm.. Anyone want a doodle of their OC? (maybemore) Hit my askbox up! One ref, please, colored or not :)

[gcppy]

i dont care i will not let fnaf security breach be spoiled for me i have literally been waiting for two years maybemore

[queenofthegalaxxy]

*Someone kicks down the doors of the castle, as a figure stares at the Queen in the distance.

[[Thanks for sending something!]]

Such a loud entry did of course attract a good dozen of tamaranean guards, and normally that would be all the intruder would face, if not for the coincidence that Empress Blackfire just was on her way of passing near the entrance hall. So, she stood here as well, surrounded by some guards while the others were closer to the stranger, approaching further while holding their weapons strike-ready.

“Who are you that you think you should dare to attack the tamaranean castle like that?” Sure, it was only a door that was kicked open, but technically, it could count as attack.

[masteredshadows]

so bc I never get to anything and still owe so many drabbles + threads I make no promises to write these but also (theoretically) like this for a starter

[kodzumie-archived]

hello i am in the mood to cuddle and MAYBEMORE TO servant nagito because that man has no right being so beautiful - 🍩

Servant Nagito is sO HOT AJSRBHDRJ...!!

HE REALLY IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND GIVES BIG URGES TO YANK HIS CHAIN AND JUST—[redacted]

But yes..! 🥺 Cuddles with servant Nagito must be amazing! Gahh, I feel like his shirt would be soft, actually. Dunno why, but the texture that I’m imagining is very delicate.

And just leaning into the crook of his neck and hugging him close..!

WAAHH, NOW I’M IN A CUDDLING MOOD—!!

[space-------kid]

Hello! I don’t know if you’re taking requests at the moment, but if you are, could you do a demon!kyojuro fic. I don’t know if you write for him since ya like genya (I do too, we stan a good boi on this blog), but if ya do, could you write on where he meets the reader, who isn’t a demon slayer? Like they’re just living life on their own until kyo attacks them, but calms down after a couple of minutes. Tears are shed and comfort is given, and they become friends (maybemore). Have a great day!

I’m so sorry, anon, but I’m not taking requests right now! 😭

But since you went out of your way to send me a message (thank you very much! 💕), please accept this tiny piece of writing!

To sum things up: Demon Kyojuro got stuck inside a cave in the mountains, couldn’t hunt any wild animals for him to eat, then got delirious due to hunger.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

𝓬𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝒟𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓃!𝑅𝑒𝓃𝑔𝑜𝓀𝓊 𝒦𝓎𝑜𝒿𝓊𝓇𝑜 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

             Pain.

             He doesn’t remember much upon opening his eyes except for the gnawing, blinding pain that freezes his limbs, savagely twists his core, and dulls his other senses except for touch. He doesn’t even remember how long he has been lying here in the dark, alone and overwhelmingly confused. Has it been hours? Days? Weeks?

             He doesn’t remember anything. Not even his name.

             Feeling helpless, he closes his eyes and wishes for the pain to just end.

--

               He feels worse upon waking up.

               Hunger makes its presence known in the most detestable way, clawing viciously at his insides and making his throat and mouth dry. It’s the kind of hunger that makes his head spin, makes his blood boil with an anger he cannot control and understand, and diminishes whatever sane judgement his bewildered mind can come up with.

               Calloused, trembling hands find a strange sheathed implement within his reach – a sword, he vaguely recalls. He holds it by the hilt and slowly withdraws the thing, only to hiss angrily at the sight of a bright red blade that felt absolutely lethal – something he doesn’t want to feel against his neck.

               He throws it away without any second thoughts.

               Hungry... Food...

               He wanders – both aimlessly and with purpose – until he reaches the foot of the mountain he wakes up in. A lone, modest hut catches his gaze, a single light from within illuminated in the night’s inky darkness.

               The moon is obscured by the clouds, but he marvels at the fact that he can perfectly see everything – the world’s colours not even muted by the dark.

               He catches a whiff of a delicious, tantalising smell and he is reduced to a mindless salivating state as he breaks off into a run, clawed hands reaching for the hut down yonder.

               Food… please—

--

               Working in the field the whole day leaves you thoroughly exhausted, your eyes heavy with sleep your body craves. But you know that you cannot sleep with an empty stomach, so you slave away in the kitchen to prepare a late dinner.

               Fatigue seems to have slowed your reaction time because it has taken you a few moments to realize that the blood in the knife you are holding is yours.

               Cursing your clumsiness, you go outside to check the basket you left behind for any bandages you might have forgotten to unpack.

               Thundering footsteps reach your ears, and you look up just in time to see a stranger lunging at you with hands outstretched, a feral expression on his face and drool trickling down his – it is indeed a man – chin.

               Your body reacted in the situation by pumping adrenaline through your veins, and you are quick to dodge the stranger’s attack. You hear him crash on your front door, and you take the chance to run away while he gathers his bearings.

               You cannot run to the field because it will leave you wide open and easy to spot, so the forest is your best bet at hiding. You know the place well enough like the back of your hand, and you are confident enough that you can lose your unexpected pursuer.

               But your choice and confidence become your downfall when you hear him at your tail, tackling you immediately to the ground. The two of you roll a few feet on the forest floor and your hunter quickly pulls you up in a sitting position, your back to him and his hot, heavy breathing against your neck.

               Thoughts of dying never really scared you before, but you cannot say the same now that your captor has you locked in his strong arms. A clawed hand gently caressed one of your arms, the stranger’s laborious pants turning into a pleased hum as he seemingly marvels at your softness through the fabric of your kimono.

               This is it, you think numbly to yourself. This is where you die, and where the woodcutters will find your bloody, defiled corpse in the morning—

               “Please…” you whisper, tears pouring steadily down your cheeks. “D-Don’t kill me, I beg of you…”

               The feral looking man behind you tenses, and you notice a cascade of orange hair with red streaks in your peripheral vision as he buries you deeper in his hold. He is trembling now, and his hold on you shifts from murderous to soft and apologetic.

               You don’t move, afraid that it might set him off again into that savage, snarling husk of a man that has chased you easily into the forest. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, mirroring the way yours pound wildly against your sternum. He swallows harshly, but his clawed hand is gentle – almost afraid of physically hurting you – when it hovers over your injured hand.

               “Forgive me.”

               His voice is deep and husky from disuse, but you can hear and feel the depth of his words as he slowly untangles himself from you. You are quick to crawl away from him before facing your previous pursuer.

               You waited for your eyes to adjust in the darkness, and once they have settled your vision is met by the sight of orange hair with red streaks (true to what you’ve seen earlier), a surprisingly handsome and manly features, and – the one that stands out to you the most – a pair of bright orange eyes with red irises, pupils slit like a cat’s. He is wearing some kind of a uniform but it is stained with dust and grass from your tumble mere moments ago. The same goes for his white haori with flame patterns and colouring on the edges.

               “I seem to have lost myself back there – maybe for a few days, even,” he continues, slitted gaze never leaving yours. “But I remember now. I remember everything.”

               Your confusion only escalates at his words, and you hug yourself as you inch farther from him. But you stop the moment a look of hurt and shame paints the stranger’s handsome face.

               “Please forgive me for mindlessly attacking you,” he says, and your heart hurt at his attempts to inject false cheer in his sincere voice and words. He looks vastly different from the man who attacks you earlier, and you surmises that the kindness he is showing you reflects his true self.

               You open your mouth to speak, but your mind doesn’t seem to want to cooperate. He visibly flinches, and you try your best to sit still when he cautiously approaches you and lifts a hand – mindful of his claws – to gently wipe away your tears.

               “I am Rengoku Kyojuro, a demon who has sworn never to harm humans and to slay any evil demon I come across with,” he introduces himself. Your heart clenches with pain when he gives you a profoundly sad smile. “But I cannot claim that mantle anymore, seeing as I have just attacked you out of sheer hunger.”

               A demon? Demons are real?

               He stands up, face set in a falsely cheerful expression as he pumps his fist in the air and declares quite loudly, “I am a disgrace to the words I have once boldly claimed! I shall atone for this humiliation by decapitating myself with my own blade!”

               “Please don’t!” you yell at him, surprising not only him but yourself as well with your sudden exclamation. Kyojuro looks at you, puzzled, as you grasp one of his large hands with your much smaller ones. “Don’t kill yourself!”

               “But I’ve almost killed you myself,” he tells you, looking shocked at your pleas. You simply look at him with a pleading expression, trusting yourself to convey that you have already forgiven him without using words.

               He just seems so sad and ashamed for what he has almost done, but you, a simple farmer, is gifted with an intuition that rivals that of warriors of old. Your initial fear has made you deaf on what it is telling you, but you can now hear it loud and clear as it screams at you to forgive Kyojuro, that he really doesn’t mean to hurt you, that he cannot and will not kill you even in the throes of blinding hunger – as proved by him staying his hand as soon as he has you locked in his arms.

               You’ve heard tales of demons devouring their prey as soon as they got their hands on them. But Kyojuro hasn’t done anything of the kind. The most harm he has given you is tackling you to the ground, nothing more.

               And he slays his kind – the evil ones?

               Kyojuro stares at you with wide-eyed amazement, and you are immediately convinced that he is not the only good demon in existence.

               “I’m [Name],” you introduce yourself, and you smile up at him earnestly as you run your fingers reassuringly on his knuckles. “Y-You didn’t hurt me. And if what you are saying is true, that you slay evil demons… then it would do the world a whole lot of good if you remain here, alive and doing what you have sworn to do. So, please. Please don’t kill yourself over— over this!”

               The sound of his booming laughter – one that comes from the pit of his belly and is nothing short of amused and grateful – rings loudly in the quiet forest, making you jump in your seat. You gape up at him, openly admiring his handsome face breaking into a smile that echoes the emotions his laughter contains.

               “Well met, [Name], the very first person I almost ate!”

               You blush furiously at his words, and he comforts you by tenderly patting your head. Neither of you know that your near-death experience and his almost eating a human signify the start of a wonderful friendship… and one that eventually leads to something more.

               But for now, you bask in the warmth of Kyojuro’s clawed hand on your hand, and him in the kindness reflected in your [colour] eyes and smile.

.

.

.

.

[zombified-queer]

Me: I could go to sleep at a decent hour

Me: Or I could make a mistake