#my crap writing

[nothingbutnowhere]

I'm just imagining getting Simon to take better care of himself. Which includes using actual cleanser instead of scrubbing his face with dish soap to get the eyeblack off, using proper moisturizer so his face doesn't get so itchy under the mask, and treating his acne. Salicylic acid proves to be not enough, so you show him how to use benzoyl peroxide. ("A little goes a long way, so I better not see this half empty tomorrow.")

And it's working! His skin is looking better and he even seems pleased about it!

Eventually he's called for a mission and you send him off with his skin care, making him promise to use it, and to get home safe.

24 hours later your phone pings in Simon's special ringtone. You hurry to check the message. And burst out laughing at the picture of his mask laying on the bed, face print bleached orange from the benzoyl peroxide.

Another message pings, this time from Johnny, a picture of Simon looking confused with his bleached mask on.

"were callin him lt pumpkin now"

...

More Simon: masterlist

I do NOT consent for my works, part of my works, or my ideas to be used for ANY form of AI.

[espresso-ships]

Idk who needs to hear this, but

Whenever I see a self ship double, or a popular canon x f/o ship and feel sad/insecure about it, I like to imagine that it's an "alternate universe", meaning that it's just a different version of your f/o.

The real version? They're with you. They're yours, and love you only.

No one can change that fact.

They love you, so damn much.

No one else - nothing else - matters.

YOU are their canon partner.

"I am my f/o's canon and real partner" - say it, manifest it, because it's true.

It's real. 💕

[Pr0ship DNI. Please respect my boundaries]

[dear-ao3]

Some fanfiction authors are actually insane, I started reading a fic those days with ~87k and only 8 chapters and the author promised more chapters soon and I'm just ... Do you guys sleep? Do you guys get a warm meal? Pls go to sleep.... I commented in every chapter but for the love of God take care of yourself!

i think i once wrote a 40k fanfic for a fandom i wasnt in entirely out of spite in about 2 weeks so. no. none of us are ok.

[mossmotif]

more on gamer!shoko because she's on my mind...

she's got this tell that she doesn't become aware of until a few of her viewers start to pick up on it. when you walk into her room while she's streaming shoko almost always immediately mutes her mic just in case you aren't aware that she's live and also just out of general respect for your privacy. this means her viewers are left in silence for a little bit.

shoko's handcam, however, remains on during these small interventions, and it never fails to miss the way she fidgets anytime she's speaking to you. they trace along the fabric of her mouse pad, mess with the cords on her desk, or simply pick at the cuticles of her thumbs. they're these small, meaningless movements that shouldn't mean anything to strangers, or even to shoko herself. but they become hard to miss when the routine to them is so obvious.

a fan makes a silly post about it. the type with over the top slow motion to highlight her movement and a cheesy song to match the tone of the text overlayed on the compilation: "shoko getting nervous whenever her roommate walks in the room"

the amount of views it gets is ridiculous. the comments are ridiculous. and most of all, the feeling in the pit of shoko's chest is ridiculous.

her hands all of a sudden feel very disconnected from her body. she stares at them through the dark, holding them in front of her face and watching their outline grow fuzzy the more she strains her eyes. the glow of her discarded phone only seems to mock the honesty of their use, illuminating them briefly with each notification before fading back to nothing at all.

traitors, she thinks briefly. but then what was there to betray? none of these people knew what they were talking about.

the sound of dishware clattering breaks her attention. her hands fall back to her chest as she rolls out of bed and makes way to her door.

the sight of you in the kitchen this late doesn't alarm her. the air is laced with the smell of almond extract, the aroma tickles her nose as she watches your back and the way you drag your palms along your apron. an imprint of flour and egg is smudged along the battered fabric.

there's a video playing faintly in the background, something you're only half paying attention to. the noise comes from your phone, which has been propped up against a mixing bowl and unmistakably has its own set of stains in the shapes of your fingerprints along its corners and screen. the evidence is dyed a hard grey. an odd choice for frosting, most likely a mistake of yours while trying to find the perfect shade or hue. shoko can't help but be endeared by the mistake.

she stands there for some time. she forgets why she left her room all together, thoughts still so embarrassingly stuck to the tackiness of her online life and the speculations surrounding it. the room begins to break off in fragments.

what did she come in here to prove? her right hand wrings itself into a fist as she debates whether or not the smell in the air is actually oozing itself out of one of her distant dreams. the one where her lips cut the sweetness of yours.

there she would only be a mouth, nothing that could grab, prod, grope, or take. ideally, all of her would disappear and she could unlatch—without a palm smacking against her open mouth—and let herself melt into you like powder.

"shoko?" you're turned toward her with a piping bag in hand. "i didn't know you were awake."

she pushes through a shard, letting the movement of your arms pierce her as she attempts to focus her gaze on your eyes. you place the piping bag onto the kitchen table like it's a puzzle piece. there are old burn marks on your left forearm; they're small and hold different shapes.

"i was going to try and catch you off guard but i ended up spacing out," shoko lies.

one of the scars stretches in this curve she particularly enjoys tracing against anything she can get her hands on.

you move to grab something and the healed skin expands.

shoko tucks her hands into her pockets.

"rude," you reply. your voice has turned into something comically dry.

"i'm sorry?"

"right." you approach her with a spoon in hand. "taste this for me?"

a spoonful of raw batter pools itself into the form of the silver, yellowed and suspiciously lumpish looking.

shoko looks back at you, brows lifting themselves through an uncertainty she hopes you find amusing enough to not find too offensive.

"what is it?" she questions.

"just taste," you push.

the spoon edges itself towards her lips. you guide it toward her slowly, almost as if to not startle her, all the while, your figure has breached her space. you two stand nearly chest to chest as shoko hesitantly opens her mouth for you. the hand you have cupped beneath the spoon to prevent any messy spillage brushes the skin of her chin just enough for her to feel a spark at the end of her fingertips.

she swallows. you step back to watch all of her, eyeing anything tucked away.

"good?" you question her silence.

shoko looks away, tries to focus on the video still playing in the background, recognizes the faint familiarity of her own voice over the chime of a game she hasn't booted up in months, untucks her hand from her pocket to wipe at her lips, and feels you mold the simple self inflicted connection into something viscous.

"good," she answers.

[mawofthemagnetar]

The door to Doc’s lab squeaked open, and Etho shuffled in lazily. The man himself was standing at a lab bench, fiddling with something- on the bench beside him, a machine the size of a filing cabinet was whirring away noisily. Etho paid it no mind.

“Got the last of ‘em for ya.” He said, holding up a jar of blue slime and giving it a shake, “The last artifake.”

“Perfect,” Doc rumbled, peering in at something through a microscope.

“So, uh, do we have an answer? About the Iskallium eye?”

“Hmm? Yeah, we do. That’s definitely Iskall’s eye. Same materials, same composition, same power supply- matches all the diagrams he gave me when asked. Only difference is, all the artifakes are beat to hell. I don’t know what could possibly have caused these dents, man. Does Tango-?”

“Tango is saying the same thing Tango said yesterday, which is, quote, “they came with the dungeon!” Etho rolled his eyes, leaning up against a workbench that was cluttered with his hard-won artifakes, “So, ah, any luck? I’m risking my life in there for this, you know that, right?”

“You’ll respawn,” Doc muttered, holding a hand out and waggling his fingers. Etho dropped the jar of speedy slime into Doc’s metal palm with a clank, and Doc moved whatever he was examining off the microscope and set about preparing another slide.

“So,” Doc said, “There is a commonality, across all items.”

“Oh?” Etho echoed, hopping up on a bench and shoving a well-loved pickaxe out of the way, “And what’s that?”

“A dusty...residue...thing. Tastes and smells like spent gunpowder, like a rocket that’s just been fired,” Doc said, dropping a slipcover on top of the slide, “It’s fine, particulate residue.” Doc shrugged, and slid the sample of slime onto his microscope, peering in for a closer look.

“And it’s...EVERY artifake, you said?”

“And every artifact, I’ll bet. Keralis’ slippers were a goldmine- just choked with the stuff. Seriously. I put them into a bag and shook them and a ton of that dust came out.” Doc twiddled the focus knobs, and sighed.

“There's more of it. Man, and it's even, like, mixed into the slime! I’m gonna have to ask Jevin for a sample when he’s around next so I can compare.” Doc nodded, and Etho smiled behind his mask.

“Soooo... that’s it, then? The mystery of where the heck Tango got all these artifacts from is...magic dust, I guess?”

The machine dinged, like an egg timer, and printed something out on a long strip of paper. Doc extracted it, and started to read over his results.

And as his eyes scanned down the page, he went very, very still.

“Doc? What’s happening?”

“Etho. Composition of this dust...it’s rock.” Doc said slowly.

“...Rock dust? And?”

“Roughed edges. This rock has never seen water.”

“...Which means...?”

“This rock hasn’t been oxidized. Predominantly...reduced. No clay, no mica...which means...”

“Doc!” Etho sighed, “What are you trying to say, here?”

“Every single one of these artifakes is covered in moon dust.” Doc said flatly.

Etho swallowed.

“Wherever the dungeon is getting these artifacts-” Doc started, hands trembling.

“-Is someplace we didn’t get lucky last season.” Etho finished, "Ah. O...kay."

Both men stared at the jar of slime in silence.

“...Cool. Well, anyway, have fun with your crisis. I’ve got three more frozen shards left!” Etho said cheerfully, and he skipped out the door.

[shevr]

stuck lid hack

[seraphic-sibyl]

There are two wolves within you. One of them just came up with a fanfic you desperately need to see, and the other refuses to write it.

[paimonial-rage]

procedural - alhaitham

[random writing event] | requested by @crane1000

Being known as one of those more free-spirited sort, you were never one for schedules. It wasn’t that you had anything against them. You just found it difficult to devote yourself to doing things at a set time on a set day was rather constricting. So when you were hired to work as the Akademiya’s scribe’s assistant, you were in for a whirlwind of change. Alhaitham was scheduled. Procedural, even. And he made sure you were too.

With Alhaitham, work started at 9am sharp. After half an hour of reviewing his intray, he would start on drafting proposals, copying documents, and creating lists. It was your job to maintain and organize the many papers that passed through his hands. Lunch was taken at noon on the dot. After, you would be out and about passing correspondence, picking up new books from the House of Daena, and communicating with the other departments. Once 5pm hit, you were finally released.

Through everything, Alhaitham prized efficiency and efficacy above all else. And though it took time to get used to his spartan ways, you could see the value in following his work style. Everything made sense. That is, mostly everything. When you sat down and really thought about everything, though, you couldn’t help but feel that there was something… odd about the way he did a few things.

Ever since you started, Alhaitham began eating out for lunch almost everyday, always inviting you along. Which was weird because you heard he usually brought lunch made by his roommate. You didn’t think it was too strange at first. You were friends with Alhaitham during your student years, after all. He probably wanted to catch up. But to continue on for a few months…?

It didn’t help that you did much of the talking at lunch. Sure, you were extremely talkative, but you thought he’d surely get tired of listening to you ramble on by now. But no, no matter how much you babbled about, he’d always respond with some intelligent response showing he was listening to you all along. That wasn’t even considering the way he opted to sit next to instead of across from you. Were you that interesting to listen to?

Then there was the way he’d actually listen to and take the random advice you’d give. The new fountain pens upon his desk were suggested by you, as were the coffee beans he now used at home. He let you drag him to new restaurants at lunch and borrowed the books you raved about in the House of Daena. You never heard of him doing this for anyone else.

And lastly…

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yep! Just finished packing up,” you replied, standing up from your desk. “Let’s go.”

As that classes were finally finished for the day, the Akademiya was abuzz with students. In the back of your mind, you had no doubt that the streets of Sumeru City would only be busier seeing that most people were finally leaving work.

“You don’t need to walk me home,” you began with an apologetic laugh. “It’s probably going to take a while.”

“It’s fine,” he replied. “Besides, weren’t you the one that insisted on finishing your story earlier?”

“Oh, you’re right!” You exclaimed. “So what happened next was…”

As you chatted about the happenings and various gossip that managed to find their way into your nosy ears, at some point your hand found its way into his. It often happened seeing that the busy roads often pushed and shoved you about. And as kind as he was to help you, you couldn’t help but feel that it was, like all the other things, unnecessary.

“Why are you so nice to me?” You found yourself asking when you finally reached your home.

Though his eyes widened for a moment, they soon narrowed as he crossed his arms as if observing you.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

You paused in thought.

“Because you see me as a friend?” You asked curiously.

You were met with a long exasperated sigh.

“Sure, let’s say that,” he finally said as he turned to leave. “Rest well.”

As you waved him goodbye, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh to yourself. Oh well. You’ll figure out his secrets some other time.

[2smolbeans]

Part 1 Part 2.5 character info

He let out a soft series of chuckles. Staring at you with a pitiful look, showing an expression of fake sympathy.

"I don't love you, and I never will. Not even if you beg and try. "

Love Me, Love Me Not (2)

Yandere Best Friend x Obstacle Reader

*unedited

Tags: small description of Nsfw- they don't fuck, self loathing, hostage keeping, one sided attraction, betrayal, mentions of previous friendships the yandere broke, slight angst, yandere is attracted to someone else, escape planning, mentions of a previous murder victim, reader is complicit to the murders, guilt, past memories.

Disclaimer: This is just a scenario I thought of with an Oc! So nothing is really 'official' or canon-

_____________________________

You look at the door, contemplating your next move. It's right there, just staring at you. The latch was loose, Marco didn't consficate the butter knife like he did usually whenever the two of you ate, and he was no where to be seen. It was so fucking conveinent, so perfect. Too perfect...Maybe you were just paranoid. The latch. The door. Just do it. Run. Sprint. Why were you panicking? This was all on you now. Your legs were shaking as you wobbled your way towards the door, grabbing the butterknife that you were previously cutting the lamb chops with. Trembling, you tried to bust open the secuirty latch. But ultimately you ended up throwing the butterknife into the sink.

Falling onto the couch, grabbing a soft pillow as a soother, you let out a frustrated scream. It's better to be safe than sorry. If anything, Marco could be hiding behind the door waiting for you. For all you know, Marco could be waiting outside the apartment complex exits, standing by while he prepares to tackle you when you finally rush outside. He could be testing you. Why wouldn’t he? It was just predictable. You knew better than to assume that Marco would freely let you loose.

So you waited, and waited. The more time passed, the more you started second guessing your choice. Wow, maybe he was just clumsy. For what seemed like forever, Marco finally rushed into the room, slamming the door open before closing it shut.

"Did I scare ya?"

He smugly spoke, swaying his way towards you while he dragged two suitcases. Stiff from the frozen fear that had shot you in the chest, you only stared at Marco wide eyed.

"I'll take that as a yes..? Anyways stay put, I just need to do this real quick.."

Peeking into the contents of the suitcases, you heard Marco examine and fix the locks. Noticing that one of the latches were left loose, Marco turned back to look at you- surpirsed yet expecting this from you. You stayed, you're still here.

Huh...

While Marco was preoccupied with himself, you reached out into one of the luggages. It was your stuff! Holding out an old shirt of yours, you let out an accidental gasp.

"Oh yeah, I figured that you might want a few things of yours. I mean I can't have my roomie empty handed~"

Underwear, socks, shirts- everything! He even brought a few extra things like your plushies and accessories! Smiling, you thanked him while you zipped up the zipper of the suitcase.

"No problem dude! Anyways you can go do whatever, fool around in your room or something. I dunno?"

Can you leave?

"Hahaha! HA! You're hilarious!"

Scoffing, you nudged Marco's shoulder, making your way to your 'bedroom'. Closing the door behind you, you took out all of your belongings from the two suitcases. Searching through the pile of stuff you had, you managed to find your phone! Immediately powering it on, you tried calling the authorities. Even trying to turn on your mobile data so that you could contact somebody through your socials. Though expectantly, your phone had blocked all of those options. No service, no nothing. Scrolling through the photo gallery, you looked at the photos you took, all the stupid screenshots you saved. You and him, it's always been the two of you. Of course, sometimes it would be you, him, and.. Matheias and Angela.. You just stare at their faces, feeling nothing as you observe their smiles. You were all so happy back then..

"

Matheias screamed as he lunged himself towards Marco, crying as his sobs echoed the room. Quickly, you grabbed Matheias by the arm, struggling to keep him still as he dragged you along with him. You shouted at Matheias, scolding him while also begging him to calm down as he continued to howl at Marco. Trying your best to keep Matheias away from Marco, you were forced onto the floor as Matheias shoved you away from him. Showing concern, Marco rushed towards you, trying to help you back on your feet.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER- HOW COULD YOU?!"

He screeched, throwing chairs, his face red with anger. Helping you up, Marco cautiously approached Matheias- holding his two palms up as he slowly approached. Calmly, Marco tried to speak to Matheias.

"Come on..Please let's not do this. Not now - just not now, okay? Please, let's just talk this out-"

Panicked, Matheias threw something at Marco, trying to keep more distance.

"LIAR! You fucking CUNT!"

Persistent, Marco was beginning to lose his composure. His voice was now on the verge of shaky tears as he lowered himself to Matheias's height level.

"P-Please..We just- it's her- fucking hell.. Come on Matheias! Really man?"

The more Marco spoke with sincerity, the more Matheias reacted. The more Marco tried to reach out to Matheias, his grieving work buddy.. His best friend..The more terrified you saw Matheias get.

"Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. You're sick- Stop that. Those aren't real.."

Trying to descalate the situation, you spoke firmly towards Matheias. Enough is enough. You've had it with the accusations about Marco, the delusions and rumors Matheias had accumulated about him. It was tiring seeing Matheias grow bitter against the only person trying to hold everyone together. You were annoyed with how he was reacting. Everyone was mourning, nobody was themselves. You understand that, you can sympthazie with him. You're also hurting. You miss her too. It was just the three of you now. So why, out of all people, he could've chosen to take his anger out, did it have to be Marco? Hysterically, Matheias let out a series of laughs. Rolling his eyes as he pointed a finger at you.

"Oh yeah! Of course you believe him! I think I know why. Trying to get some brownie points aren't you?"

He marched towards you, keeping his finger pointed at you. His voice so loud and angry, it began to ring your ears.

"It's always been like that! Don't you find it fucking unfair how he's always the innocent little sheep in every sitaution?!"

He let out an exasperated breath, his hands aggressively flying everywhere.

"But NOOOOOO! EVERYONE LOVESSS MARCO! The fucking psychopath. Fucking murderer. And I'm the only one that fucking knows!"

Stop it, you beg. You're being delusional, you cried. You held back your tongue, knowing that Matheias wasn't being himself. He always had an issue with his temper, so you knew you had to be patient with him. But you've done that so many times throughout the friendship. It's beginning to run thin. Espically now.

"Why don't you just say it huh? Why don't you just admit it? Tell him. Just fucking-"

Out of instinct, you rushed towards Matheias. Raising your hand as the palm of it harshly came into contact with his face. Tears streaming down your cheeks, you slap him again..And again..And again..Stopping when Marco had to pull you away from him. Holding you in a hug as the hiccups and sniffles begin to escape you.

It was quiet for a while. Your sniffles and his loud, hyperventilating breathes were the only thing left in the room. You remember the look in his eyes, the grief he felt when he saw Marco shake his head dissapointingly. As tension filled the room, suffocating the three of you in an uncomfortable moment- unsure of what was to happen next. Matheias finally spoke up, defeated as he slammed his hand against the table. Memorial cards, photographs, and sympathy letters falling onto the ground.

"..You know what? Fine. Suit yourself. But she's gone, and I know who fucking did it. Sooner or later, you'll know I'm right. And when you do, you'll be wishing that you listened to me."

Without a word, Matheias grabbed a memorial card. Shoving chairs out of his way while he walked out the door. With a final glance, he looked at Marco, and then at you. Scowling, he shut the door violently, leaving you and Marco alone.

"

Your eyes burned as you stared at the ground. Your body feeling limp as you pressed your back against the bedframe for support. Matheias was always the smart fucker of the group..You wonder how he'd react if he knew what was going on. Probably with a snarky remark of how "I told you so!". Funny how the end of their close bond was the start of yours. You want to cry, to get rid of this awful feel that brewed inside of you. But you can't. Maybe it was your body's way of punishing you for being such an awful human being.

Yeah sit with your guilt. Let it simmer with no outlet to release it.

Looking at the screen, you decided to check out your notes. Scrolling through them, you recalled how you always used it as a personal diary rather than a proper agenda tool. Just a pile of insecurities about your crush on a friend who clearly had the hots for someone else. A bunch of useless shit that you bitched about. A series of notes that revealed what type of selfish person you truly were.

Last opened a week ago...?

What?

Your heart sank as you looked at the bottom of each note.

Each note, every single one of them, he read them all. All the words you said to yourself, all the thoughts that you had- he knew about it. You went rigid the more you thought about it. Before..Was he playing with your feelings? He knowingly roped you into this shitfest because he knew he had you wrapped around his little finger. You were the perfect loyal pawn that helped him clean the messes.

Hahaha. Haha. Ha.

That's hilarious, isn't it? You stand up, furious of how stupidly feeble you felt. You pick up the clothes and your belongings and organize them in their rightful place. The couch, when he touched you like that..It was just to keep you on your toes, to keep you obedient. Your 'reward' for being so good.. Pissed, you started to pace around your room. That's it, you want out. You should've left the room when you had the chance. You lay there on the floor, mind numb as you stare into nothingness. That poor girlfriend, whoever they are, hoped they were okay. Why did Marco like them again? How did they even meet? Do you even remember what she looks like? You should know, he's talked about her so many times you've lost count. Charlie? Ashlyn? Abby? No.. none of those sounded right. Does it matter in the end? You should be worrying about yourself.

What if you tied your clothes and made a makeshift rope? Looking down through the window, you grimaced as you thought about it. It's too high. You're on the highest floor of the building. You laughed at another desperate thought that came up. What if you fought Marco yourself? Sure, yeah, if you wanted to get suplexed to death. Right, fight the 6'2 "maniac who goes to the gym every week and could easily pick you up like a ragdoll. There has to be someway.. Who knows how long he really plans on keeping you. It was so easy for him to drop Matheias, someone he knew longer than you - and swiftly wiped Angela off the face of the earth. You're next. Time was ticking. You sat there for a while. Thinking to yourself. Did Marco really care about anything other than himself? Is he capable of emotion? He has some capability, or maybe he plays the illusion that he does fairly well.

Without another thought, you got up, walking towards his room. Knocking the door, you called his name. No answer. You knock again. No answer. You try opening the door to check if he's inside. It's locked. Going to the front door, you began to play with the locks. Loudly banging them against the doorframe, the metalic sounds echoing the entire room. Still no response. Using this opportunity, you scan the entire apartment, looking for anything you could use or take note of. But you couldn’t think of anything. Deciding to go back to your room, you try to get some shut eye. Changing into some nightwear to get comfortable.

Eventually, you were able to find yourself melting into the matress. Dreaming about what could've been, you were sound asleep. You wished you could've stayed like that forever. Blissful and full of rest. However, it was short-lived as you felt yourself being lifted up. Groggily, you were brought up onto your knees. Slowly, you were propped up at a certain position while a warm breath fanned against the back of your neck. Your back was pressed against his chest, legs spread apart, and hands on both sides of your thighs. Fully awake and aware, you froze as you felt his hands play with your chest - barely grazing at your nipples. Alert, you tried to turn your body away from his wandering hands. Out of protest against your reaction, Marco hushed you as he pushed you back to the position.

"Ah ah ah. Nono. Stay put for me okay? Trust me"

It felt so foreign with the way he spoke to you with such geniune softness. You couldn't help but lean further against his body as he began to travel his hands further down your lower half.

"You've been so good, such a good friend to me..I've never really thanked you properly, so I'll do it now..Yeah?"

His hands now grabbing onto the waistband of your pajama pants, you went paralyzed. Why was he doing this?

"You deserve it. That's why.. Do you not like this?"

What about her? Doesn't he hate you for standing in the way?

"Just answer my question. Do you like this or not?"

You were starting to get on his nerves. So quietly, you meekly squeaked for him to continue. Even though you knew you should've denied his offer and advances, you still couldn't help but fall into him. So, lifting your hips up, you allowed him to pull your pants down.

"I just want to make it up to you, that's all..You'd enjoy something like this afterall.."

Rubbing all the right places, going at that perfect rhythmic pace, focusing on your body movements. He made sure to treat you carefully, leaving gentle kisses along your neck as he watched your chest rise up and down. Back and fourth, he left your mind in a daze as he whispered those sweet praises into your ears.

"Finally got what you wanted, huh? How long have you been thinking of this for? Hah.. And don't lie to me, I know everything.."

You didn't answer him as you focused on chasing your release. Your hands pathetically gripping onto his arms while you whined as his hands continued to play and stroke at your sex.

"It's only fair. I realised if you hadn't helped me, I would've been so lost..So good job. You did so well for me. You earned this"

Twisting and brewing, you felt the heat inside you threaten to spill as he changed his pace. His hands now trying to chass the pleasure out of you while you quivered underneath him. You were close, so close to tipping over the edge.

"I love you"

With those words that you so desperately fantasized about for years, you felt the heat in your body spread. Milking out your orgasm, Marco continued at the same rhythm, pulling his hand away after he felt you try to shove him off. Getting off the bed as he left you there to calm down, he wiped his hands dry. Smirking at you as if he had just pulled the world's most amazing prank.

"I did good didn't I?"

....What the fuck was that? Why in the hell did you say yes? Why the fuck did he- Looking at him in confusion, you pulled up your pants. Giving him a look that demanded an answer.

"Okayy fine. I just felt like it. Plus it's fun seeing you melt like puddy!"

Huh? You felt dumbfounded as he kept walking around the dark room. The moonlight providing the only source of light to the bedroom.

"It's funny..You like me. I've known that for a while..Even before the notes. You were never really a good liar."

He let out a soft series of chuckles. Staring at you with a pitiful look, showing an expression of fake sympathy.

"I don't love you, and I never will. Not even if you beg and try. "

He leaned close to your face, his hands caressing your cheek.

"I only said it to get your rocks off. And clearly..It worked~"

Well fucking ouch..A pang went through your chest as Marco moved away from you. Disregarding your feelings he kept going, the softness and genuie warmth you felt earlier, disintegrated into nothingness. Like a flip switched inside him, he was back to his comedic cold personality.

"Ohh hun..Please don't be dissapointed. I wasn't lying when I said you deserved every second of that moment.."

Circling the room, he continued to monolog casually.

"Afterall for being such an obedient dog staying put in the room..You deserved a little treat!"

Patting your head to further squeeze out the feelings in your heart, Marco left the room.

"I'll see you tommorow okay? Dream about me~"

Alone by yourself again as you laid your body on the bed. You curled yourself into a ball, grabbing all the blankets, hugging them for some comfort. His words replayed in your head, trying to process what just happened. He was fucking with you. But why? Why like that? Staring up at the ceiling with your back on the bed, you muttered a few words while you felt the shame creep up on you.

What an asshole.

_____________________________

.

.

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Part 3 coming soon!

You looked at her in horror as she sat there on the chair, tied up and gagged. Her face was stained with fresh tears as she struggled against her restraints. Oh god, did things not go well with her and Marco? Why was she here? You tried calming her down as she thrashed around, threatening to tip over the chair.

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[the-dose-makes-the-poison]

Hidden in a secret place, Somewhere Between half-light and half-darkness, Between pain and tenderness, Between adoration and contempt, Between indifference and love, My trembling heart is waiting To be found and touched by you.

— the-dose-makes-the-poison

[lockheed-martin-unofficial]

My headcanon is that the average body temperature of cybertronians isn’t necessarily extremely cold or extremely hot. Their spark (+ engine if they have one? I have no idea, entirely different can of worms) and therefore their chests & maybe heads would be very warm, but limbs would get colder very quickly the farther they are from that core. In comparison, a human’s body temp is far more uniformly distributed.

I imagine they usually recycle at least some of their excess body heat into energy similar to the way some cars charge their batteries while braking, but when they’re generating too much heat or when they don’t need it (maybe the environment is already hot, they’re doing a lot of activity or they are trying to recharge) they’ll just vent it out using cooling fans. Depending on the season, this might be great for a human trying to sleep beside them or really annoying.

I would guess that heat bothers them more than cold (Starscream being an outlier, he probably just likes to complain since planes are SUPPOSED to be in very cold temperatures always) since they can walk around in space just fine, so I imagine em just going “yknow what. Fuck it.” And maxing out their cooling fans while they try to recharge. Or whenever it’s remotely warm. It is very loud.

I don’t know enough about cars to say this confidently but you know how in some small cars maxing out the air conditioning will cause a noticeable power reduction? That probably wouldn’t happen as much with an alien robot, but imagine a relatively smaller and younger cybertronian able to either move around or cool down, never both at the same time. It’d be funny methinks. Everybody else laughs at them.

Makes me wonder how their relationship with water would be. I doubt cybertronians would rust easily, so it’d be funny to go for a walk by the lake one morning and see a bunch of cars just standing halfway in the water with steam evaporating from them. Robots In Disguise™️ trying to cool down. I’m gonna draw a comic about that eventually.

Team Prime deserves an industrial grade pressure washer. Let Miko wield it. As a treat. She’s fully sane and can be trusted with ice cold pressurised water to blast her robot pals with. Also maybe Jack and Raf occasionally.

[weedle-testaburger]

the entire doctor who fandom @ steven moffat rn:

[paimonthearchivist2]

the issue with tumblr queers (especially the white ones) is that you understand that fascism is bad, but you refuse to understand how it operates. every 3 years people decry the last fascists and unite under the banner of the new ones. sure, now we all agree transmeds, or aphobes, or terfs, or exorsexists, or panphobes, or any other stupid discourse sides i've forgotten, are all bad people, but when your favourite popular transfem tells you that actually, trans men don't matter because [literally reworded terf shit], you all go wow, i can't believe i never realised this, and the whole thing starts all over again. i wonder, in a year when the baeddels are up on that list, who's going to be next? will it be me? you? i'm trying to do a "first they came for the socialists" thing here but honestly? i don't think it'll happen again. we are literally out of identities right of the G to delegitimize at this point. which is kind of fitting, isn't it? the collapse of fascism is always when there's no more enemies left to fight, nobody left to demonise, no common-threat.

[supreme-leader-stoat]

No more wizarding schools. Wizarding schools, while occasionally fun, have been done to death and back to the point that I wouldn't be surprised if there's some story out there about a school specifically for liches.

Now, Barbarian School, that's some unexplored territory.

[shywhumpauthor]

Whump aesthetic of the day: a Whumpee having a coughing fit, but it’s so bad they can’t manage to inhale which makes it so they can’t cough right which only makes them need to cough more so they’re stuck in this awful cycle of choking on their own spit and breath

[halucynator]

hi babes! may I request theo + party 💋

party | theo nott ☆

yes you may mwah <3 ive also never written headcanons before so i prolly got it wrong lmao i was also supposed to post this yesterday but i have shit memory :((

• theo HATES parties, but he still goes when you ask him to bc he'd do anything for you (and soft spot)

• "another party? what's the point of these parties?" he'd question shocked at you telling him (and practically forcing him) to come to the 3rd party of the week with you.

• "the point is to loosen up and have fun theo! come on, dont be boring!"

• "okay fine, but this is the last time" he'd lie.

• another reason he'd go to parties is because you'd look absolutely stunning + he'd get to see you more.

• and it makes you happy.

• he always makes sure to tell you how good you look.

• he drinks at the party but only 1 or 2 bc he needs to be sober enough to take care of you if you get too drunk.

• if you get too drunk he takes you up to your dorm and tucks you in.

• if he sees someone trying to flirt with you/take advantage of you when your wasted he drags you away.

• he's probably the 'mom' of the group when it comes to parties.

• he usually just stays in the corner of the room away from the dancing floor.

• as much as he wants to leave, he never does if you're still there bc he takes care of you.

• he's even more overprotective than he usually is at parties bc he knows the dangers.

• whenever you have more than a set amount of drink he usually tries to stop you so you don't have a hangover the next day and bc if he doesn't he'd never hear the end of it.

• "theo" you'd whine "why didn't you stop me from having all those drinks"

• he'd sigh and shake his head.

• "i tried to"