#my family does not like metal AT ALL and they all act surprised when I tell them I do

[sockeyesoren]

concert tickets expensive :((

[waokevale]

Looks at you with my eyes sitting in front of you like I'm interrogating you (but it's actually a really nice cozy room). I have heard tale of this WXwood ship. Tell me what you find compelling about the ship I'm considering joining you in WXwood land. Literally just say words at me I'm listening

Alright, very well then, so I shall! 🫡

At first, I only shipped them ironically, because they seemed like the classic "opposites attract" trope, which I favor 👍

But then I got digging, and I realized they're not actually that different after all. In fact, they share plenty of common traits and interests. What many people overlook initially, is that neither of them is actually a black&white character. None of the DST cast is, to be fair. 🩶

So it was inevitable, I became enthralled with this ship and now it's probably my nr 1 of all time.

Here's a list of my reasonings and what I found out about these guys thus far (updated):

1. WX-78 is actually a bit of a softie if you spend some time reading through their quotes. They act tough and logical to presumably hide whatever ounce of empathy they have left, that didn't escape them completely. (But they're not doing too good of a job)

They either use this uncharacteristically soft tone or hide a kind gesture or well-intentioned thought behind robotically constructed sentences and insults.

Even when they are threatening someone/something, they're all bark no bite. They might be very rude, but most of the time they won't actually go through with what they say.

And of course, I don't think I need to show the quotes for machines or metallic structures, since WX-78 openly sees them as their family and acts basically the same as Wormwood does with his plant friends.

2. Speaking of, Wormwood isn't always an empathetic creature. He can sometimes be callous, apathetic and even have favorites amongst plants (and people too), though he doesn't directly state that. He also isn't as dumb as he portrays himself to be, he definitely knows something, but either has too limited English speaking skills or is actively choosing not to say much.

He often sobs or cries when a creature dies, but there are times he reacts with either "whoops", "oh" or "too bad" like it's a small inconvenience at best.

And those are only some of the examples. If you'd like I could always try and find more of these specific quotes at another time.

3. Despite seeming vastly different at first, they would eventually become good friends.

And why do I think that? Because WX-78 actually likes plenty of things that correspond with Wormwood!

Bees (If we were to go back to their previous quote I've shown). Fun fact, WX-78 has a lot of quotes where they express how much they like/respect bees! And since Wormwood blooms, there's countless of them surrounding him at those times. It's a welcome bonus while hanging out around him. (Though maybe not in Spring)

Their quote for green gem is: "PRESSURE AND IMPURITIES HAVE PRODUCED PLEASING PERFECTION" which is. well. Something.

They're very fond of pumpkins, describing them as: "IT HAS A PLEASANT SHAPE" while their seed as "IT IS A SOURCE CODE FOR PLEASING PLANTS" And guess who just happens to have a pumpkin skin ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

The lunar affinity. If I didn't know any better, I'd assume WX-78 was outright worshipping the moon. They have dozens of quotes describing how THE MOON IS SUPERIOR, INORGANIC AND GOOD, I wouldn't be able to fit all of them into this post, (just trust me on that). Regardless, they're still deeply attached to it. it wouldn't be surprising that, if they found out about this aspect about him, they'd become very fascinated with him, because c'mon, it's the moon, and he's from it!

Despite acting like it, WX-78 doesn't actually hate all organic life. Plants in particular, are actually some of the organisms they seem to hate the least. They're partial to potatoes and lureplants; the former because they say they can relate to them, and the latter because "AWW, IT'S JUST AS EVIL AS I AM". They even recognize the beauty of certain flowers, even if they say it in a mocking tone. So then, would it be too farfetched of a concept for them to grow to appreciate organic life with Wormwood's influence ?

And yeah, they might not like him at first due to the whole "Filthy Organic" attribute, but that's just how they are with everyone! And that's what we're here for! That slowburn! With the two of them getting to know each other and realizing they have shared interests and know similiar struggles!

Going back to Wormwood. His quote for the W.A.R.B.I.S armor and head gear suggests that he highly admires WX and would like to be strong like they are.

–Wormwood, examining the W.A.R.B.I.S. Head Gear: "Just like robot friend!"

–Wormwood, examining the W.A.R.B.I.S. Armor: "Be strong, like robot friend!"

There's also his quote for the Nautopilot where he's the only one who shows genuine concern for WX-78's perturbation:

–WX-78, when examining the Nautopilot: THIS IS A TERRIBLE IDEA

–WX-78, when examining an active Nautopilot: I THINK THAT RIDICULOUS SCIENTIST IS TRYING TO KILL ME

–Wormwood: Robot friend doesn't like Pull Rock

5. The survivors' farming animation is quite charming, I certainly loved their small interaction there. They're also shown in the official Return Of Them vignette, farming on the side.

6.. I like the fact that one of them is afraid of water and the other of fire. Adds an interesting dynamic.

7. As @benzybenny mentioned, it's a cute idea that they could make each other's favorite foods. Wormwood has the resources for making a butter muffin practically instantly available, due to his Bee King and Berry Bush crafting skills. And WX-78 is perfectly fitted for the ruins, yes! Them fetching bananas (definitely only to spite the monkeys, not for Wormwood and Wendy specifically) sounds very plausible to me. 😁

8. They just work. Despite claiming they want to "DOMINATE ALL ORGANIC LIFE" WX-78 appreciates people who can stand up for themselves. I'd guess Wormwood would be a huge pushover at first, no doubt, but with their influence, he would certainly have to grow a spine (metaphorically speaking)

Likewise, WX-78 struggles to show kindness to non-robotic creatures, because they fear they might come off as WEAK and SENTIMENTAL. Things they loathe to expose about themself. Wormwood could help them show that it's okay to love organic friends and be nice to others! (sometimes at least.)

I'd say they balance out each other perfectly and that is quite rare to see in modern ships.

While they'd definitely struggle to get along at first, they'd surely grow fond of the other one day :)

I hope this convinced you. if not, I'll try and dig up some more stuff. Then again, keep in mind that there aren't many canon character interactions besides whatever crumbs we've got from their quotes and official animations.

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Silver & blood taste the same…

Blurb: FBI special agent Amaranthine Delaware has a nose like a blood hound. She can sniff out crime wherever it may lurk, not even the shadows are safe. But what happens when a crazed killer is tearing through towns rampantly and she has no idea who they are and where they're going next?

Pairing: Bill Skarsgård x OC

Part 1 of ?

Warnings: Gore, blood, violent depictions, homicide, dub-con, somnophilia, sexual themes, sexual acts, swearing, mentions of torture, kidnapping, mentions of weaponry, mental health struggles, addiction (alcohol dependency and cocaine) and possibly more throughout. 18+. Read at your own discretion and risk. You have been warned.

-

October 17th, 2013

The killings started in the early fall here in Indigo Grove. It must have been around September time because all the kids were back in school and that's how our first Jane Doe was discovered. She had been left- no, she had been discarded, in an overgrown area of greenery near a family home. It was the youngest of the children who found her... now two lives are ruined.

I say 'it must have been around September time...' but I know that it was. I remember everything from that first day. Every smell, every sob, every single one of my hairs standing on end as I try not to dry heave onto the ground next to the poor girl laying there on the frozen earth. Her red eyes staring up at me forever piercing and tainting my soul.

I try not to panic at the coffee counter as the barista with smudged eyeliner blinks at me, evidently annoyed at my prolonged silence and stilled movement, "Sorry," I breathe, finally, "How much did you say that was?" she rolls her eyes as she glances back at the till.

"You owe 5.75 today, ma'am."

Ma'am? The word makes my head spin. Her and I are clearly close to being the same age and she is referring to me like I am some 30 year old woman. I would laugh if I weren't so tired.

I stuff my hand into my damp coat pocket and pull out my purse. Loose strands of my rain soaked hair stick to the side of my face. The purse is a faded shade of purple and the faux leather is of a smooth grain. It's about the only thing that has been with me through thick and thin.

I rummage through the compartments of the purse, my cold shaking fingers scraping together the last of the coins that I have. I count them out in my palm before quickly handing them to the cashier.

She looks down at the metal like it is a foreign form of currency before she as well briefly counts them, obviously not trusting my judgement. After slotting them into her till she rewards me with my morning beverage and sweet treat. Nothing better than sugar at 8 in the morning.

The lights in the café are dim as I enter further into the sea of tables, every person appears like a blurred silhouette- or maybe it is just the three glasses of wine from last night catching up to me. My patrol partner, Johnny Franklin, is sitting in a dark far away corner of the café at a small table for two. He is tucked against the wall, his coffee mug in one hand and his toasted sandwich in the other. He orders the same thing every day; Regular coffee with three spoonfuls of sugar and whole fat milk alongside a toasted cheese and tuna melt sandwich and a chocolate chip muffin for dessert.

Johnny is around the same age as my older sister Jocelyn, which I find great comfort in… maybe that’s why I enjoy having him around. He is also a creature of habit, making his days predictable. I always know where he is going to be and when he is going to be there. It’s why I stay so fond of him, he doesn’t surprise me.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” He grumbles lazily, bringing his coffee mug up to his thin pale lips to take a leisurely slurp as I take a seat across from him. A small stubbly beard has grown in on and around his mouth, I notice this as he says, “You seem as chirpy as ever today.” His hoarse voice is dripping with sarcasm and I pray that this won’t be the running theme of the day. Johnny talking nonsense and me with a pounding headache.

“Yeah, yeah, get it out of your system.” I wave my hand, almost dismissing him- or maybe I’m trying to swat him away like he is a fly. He is always getting all twisted up in other peoples shit.

“You look like shit, kid.” The now empty coffee mug comes down onto the cheap wooden table, a light clatter of the porcelain following close after, “I’m in two minds of even telling you what I got paged this mornin’…”

And there it is. That horrid feeling of dread, doubt, despair, anger, hurt, anxiety- my body knows what he is going to say before he has to say it. The way my stomach twists into painful tight knots and how my breath is now lodged, undoubtably stuck in my throat. The world around me pivots on a sideways axel and I’m struggling to make it stop.

“Tell me.” I am strangled as the words come out, almost too quiet for myself to hear. Do I want to know? Can I handle what Johnny is going to tell me? The answer is no, probably not. But this is the work, and I owe it to those girls to catch this sick fuck-

Johnny’s beady brown eyes examine my features. It takes him a moment but he sucks in a deep breath and I see his bushy eyebrows knit together, his mouth also downturning distastefully, “Another body was found early hours this mornin’, around 3am. She has thought to have been out there for at least two weeks they said.”

The sourness in my mouth intensifies. Two weeks… two whole weeks. Evidence could be lost, the crime scene tampered with, decomposition.. animals. The thought alone sickens me to my stomach. How could she have been missed for that long?

“Who found her?” I ask after a long pause, my mind is buzzing with fear. That’s the thing about this line of work, people expect you to have no feeling- but I feel everything.

Johnny takes a bite of his sandwich and grease pools at the corners of his mouth making me cringe. I want to scream at him for even being able to stomach anything after telling me that information. He chews for an agonisingly long time before he finally grumbles, “A trucker on the highway nearly swerved off the road- agents at the scene think she must have still been alive after the attack and tried to crawl to the nearest road to wave down some help but her wounds were fatal. She died as she reached the highway.” Another bite. Another bite of that disgusting fucking sandwich.

My nostrils flare as I suck in a deep aggravated breath, standing up from the table the chair legs scrape along the floor, the screech punctuates my exit and I am gone before Johnny even has the time to comprehend what’s happening.

Dark clouds swell the sky and the chilly air nips and whips at my cheeks. The rain conjures a hellish dance upon my head as it pelts from the heavens above, drenching my hair further. My chest rises and falls with every breath I struggle to pull into my lungs and I find myself thinking about him.

He keeps me awake every night. I dream about him, I write about him- I wonder, what does he eat? What does his morning routine look like? What does he hate? What does he look like? His eyes, his lips, his smile… is it nice? Is it a nice smile, a warm smile, a welcoming smile? What does he smell like?

He consumes my life, he controls my every thought.

I hate it. I hate him.

It feels personal. Every murder… every life that he takes. And I know that it shouldn’t, but it does.

It fucking does.

-

Blue lights flood my vision, captivating the world around me in an inescapable light. The light in which we should all feel safe in, but I don’t. I never have.

The yellow and black police tape is lifted for me as I enter through to the official crime scene. The highway has been closed off and traffic is being redirected elsewhere, creating this ungodly eerie silence. I want noise, I need the noise… it’s too quiet.

“Special agent Delaware, this is Milo Reed, our truck driver.” My supervisor, Harold Hawkins, approaches me from a nearby vehicle. The man stood to his left is as pale as chalk, his eyes wide and dark with purple circles cladding the skin beneath his sockets.

My steps are steady and slow as I inch closer to the pair, deciding it may not be best to go in for a handshake in this moment, “Milo, my name is Amaranthine and I’m the lead detective on this case. My partner will soon be here to take care of you.” My own voice echoes inside of my mind. I can’t imagine how this man may be feeling. All he manages to muster in response is a nod and then he is shuffling off in another direction, his actions meek and stilted.

My next walk feels like one to the gallows, but I find comfort in one thing. I know what his mark is, I know what he has left behind that’ll tie this girl to the last and to the one before her. The butterfly. He irons it into their skin. Always in a different area, but always just as deep and just as brutal. Taking something so beautiful and blackening it with evil…

That’s how he got his name from the media.

The butterfly killer.

It headlined in every newspaper a month back, and it still continues to steal the spotlight today. Front page, big and bold for all to see. I bet he is basking in the glory of all of this…

It makes my stomach churn.

As I advance further into the scene I spot an unmissable tanglement of red hair on the ground. The colour is admirable.. it is absolutely gorgeous. Or so I thought, that is until I realise that it’s not at all the colour of the victims hair- it is her blood.

I fight the urge to vomit, swallowing down whatever salvia I have in a desperate attempt to maintain my composure- especially in front of my male colleagues.

“Have you been briefed?” One of them ask and I nod my head, remaining silent, “It was him, she has been branded on her right shoulder. Her wounds, however, are of different technique. He was angrier this time and he used some sort of screwdriver.” His words are so cool it leaves my skin feeling icy cold, like the decaying corpse in front of us, “She has been photographed but with the recent weather conditions, evidence might be tricky to recover. We will be lucky if we identify any from her, never mind any from him.”

I can feel a slow build in my chest, a rising fire of complete rage. When will this end? Will he ever be satisfied? And will I ever catch him?

“Try your best.” I plea and my eyes flicker from the ground to the flashing lights that are now intensifying my headache and then back to the body. The attending agent has left my side and I struggle to grasp the reality of anything around me.

I crouch down to further investigate our victim. She tried to fight. She tried to flee- she wanted to live so desperately that she crawled 10 metres from her drop off point before her lungs finally filled with blood.

She died alone.

I watch as they carefully remove her body from the scene and into the back of an ambulance, taking her back to the lab where hopefully we will be able to identify her.

She will have a family somewhere, and they are waiting on her coming home.

-

“You can’t smoke in here!” I am four vodka cokes deep in the ‘Hell Gate’ bar just off of the highway and maybe I’m feeling brave and maybe the buzzing red lamp above my head has officially drove me insane but I have had my eyes on this delicious stranger since I arrived and I’ll be damned if I leave here without him. I know that he has noticed me and I know smoking indoors is illegal, and it has been for over 10 years, but there’s just something about watching him do it that makes my insides flutter.

The music in the bar is deafening but it’s pretty vacant of people, even the bartender keeps disappearing elsewhere. The man spares me a quick look, taking one long last drag of his cigarette before he is stumping it out into a nearby ashtray. His face slowly turns towards mine and just like that, he exhales the large cloud of cancerous smoke right into my face.

“What you gonna do about it?” His gravelly deep voice challenges me and my thighs clench together at the mere sight of him. Plump pink lips, stunning round eyes, a strong nose and not to mention the gorgeous brown hair. His tall frame slouched leisurely over the bar has my mind reeling with sin.

I just want to forget. Just for one night.

My front teeth toy with my bottom lip, nibbling on the cushiony skin as I try my hardest to force my drunken brain to think of a quip and sultry response but all I seem to muster is a pathetic, “Steal your lighter.”

He hadn’t noticed but around three seconds ago I had pinched his lighter from on top of the bar and secured in my pocket.

A smugness braces his face, pulling his lips up just ever so slightly at the corners, “What’s your name, angel?” I can tell that I’ve caught his attention by the way his body leans into mine and the total thirst that has consumed his eyes. He wants me.

“You first.” I counter, proud of my own confidence. It’s not every day I manage to pluck up the balls to talk to guys and I would like to thank my liquid courage for tonight. Wherever it may lead.

“Bill, but you can call me whatever you want.” I expect to see a hand stuck out in front of me, but I don’t. He keeps himself to himself, and I quietly admire that. It’s sort of gentlemanly…

I take a short but sweet sip of my drink, letting the alcohol sere my throat on the way down before I chirp, “Amaranthine, but my friends call me Amara.”

His eyebrows perk up momentarily on his forehead before they proceed to faintly knit together in what I assume is confusion, “Are we friends, Amaranthine?”

I bite rabidly at the inside of my cheek, pinching the flesh to stop a shit eating grin from taking over my entire face. There is a short pause as I pretend to think of an ‘honest’ answer, “We can be. If you wanna?” My blood feels hot as scolding iron as it flows through my body, flushing my face for a brief moment.

“Hmm,” Bill’s pink tongue darts from his mouth to swipe over his bottom lip, his teeth gentle nipping the skin, “I don’t know… what do your friends usually say about you?” He is closer to me now and I can feel my breathing start to become a bit ragged. It takes every ounce of restraint I have to not press my lips to his. They are all I can focus on. I wonder what he tastes like.

“My friends would tell you to run for the hills…” In order to regain composure I play with the metal lighter that belongs to him, flicking the cap and watching as the flame would erupt from within. On the side there is a word that is engraved… Love.

It takes mere seconds before Bill is pulling my wrist toward him with force, but not enough to hurt me, only enough to frighten me. And it does, and the gasp that leaves my mouth is borderline erotic and makes my cheeks fervent. He is gentle to take the lighter from my loose grip, placing it into his dark jean pocket and then returning his attention back to my face.

“I think this could work… this ‘friend’ thing.” His grip remains tight around my wrist, “Only thing is.. I don’t think friends fuck their friends, do they, Amara?” Somewhere along the way Bill has stood up from his barstool and he is now towering over me. He must be at least 6ft 2 and looking up at him from my seated position is making my mind spin uncontrollably. I thought I was attracted to him before but now… I want him to take me right here, right now in the middle of this dive bar.

“Friends sometimes do that.” I say meekly as I swallow thickly, all the saliva in my mouth has mysteriously disappeared and maybe it was the alcohol or maybe this is just what he does to me. The greed grows between my thighs and as I'm staring into his eyes I can see the hunger growing within him too- infatuation blowing his pupils to the size of bullet holes.

He yanks me to my feet, his face is uncompromising and I am on fire with anticipation, "Your place or mine?" His lips brush the shell of my ear and I feel electricity race down every vertebrae in my spine, making my legs unsteady. His voice is almost a moan and his tone is low and yet I am willing to totally submit to his every beckon and command.

"Mine..." I feel like I can't breathe, "I.. I don't have a ride." My quavering voice declares my evident embarrassment and Bill tucks some loose strands of my wind stricken hair behind my ear.

"It really is your lucky day." Bill winks at me, a semblance of a smile gently appearing onto his face and his long arm snakes around my waist, guiding me toward the bar exit.

"Oh- I haven't paid!" I exclaim in a state of panic.

"Shhh-" Fuck. His voice is like a lullaby, "I know the owner, don't stress." It was at that moment that I realised, in my inebriated state, that I would believe every word this man said.

-

Sober Amara would never have given her home address to a total stranger- but drunk and horny Amara just did. We are always warned as children- don’t speak to that strange looking man, don’t go near that lady, stay away from them and so on.. but if we lived up to those rules- to that fear, we would never live. We would be so alone..

I juggle my keys, struggling to control the adrenaline that is coursing through my veins, causing my hands to tremble. I manage to slot the key into the lock and jimmy it open- I really have to get that looked at.

I shoulder barge my way inside, losing my balance as I do and I expect to see the floor coming up to meet my face- but instead I feel Bill’s colossal hands gripping my waist firmly, holding me restrained in the air. Shock roots us both to the spot and I can feel something brewing rapidly between us.

My apartment is small, but it’s cozy and it’s home. I keep it clean for the most part, overall the only mess visible is the case files I’ve left on my desk and the map that’s strung up on my wall. To the average person, like Bill, I’ll probably look crazy. Luckily for me, that’s not where his attention is.

“I'm waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you.”

The door has been kicked shut and I can hear the rhythm of my own heart pounding in my ears. I’m starting to feel a bit lightheaded, like I am levitating above the ground. He knows just what to say, he knows how to look at me in just the right way to make my mind turn to mush- it’s almost like he knows me. Have we been here before?

“I’m gonna need your help to get my clothes off…” my hands dance up to behind his neck, cradling it gently whilst pulling him closer to me. My fingers card through his luscious dark hair, tugging the roots playfully which causes a groan to erupt from his lips.

Bill's large hands come to fondle with my chest, his fingers struggling with the buttons of my blouse. His breathing hitches and with a leap of faith and a lewd huff he rips the seams apart. My mouth falls agape as I watch the buttons fly across every square inch of the room. Some of them I'll never be able to find again...

His lips are on mine before I have time to form any sort of coherent thought and the warmth of his skin is enough to heat my entire body for days. My lips part, allowing his wet tongue to slip inside of my mouth and I moan out at the contact. He tastes like alcohol and cigarettes with the mildest touch of mint- just what I expected. Abruptly he pulls away and I whine with the need to have him near again, "I'm going to take good care of you, I promise. I just wanna enjoy the view. It's not everyday I get to fuck someone as pretty as you." His voice has dropped an octave or two lower and the simple task of breathing becomes obscenely hard in that moment and I battle the urge to pounce on top of him right there and then. He slides my ripped blouse down my arms, letting it fall to the hardwood floor below my feet. He steps further away, urging me with his eyes to continue undressing.

"You don't have to be gentle with me, I won't break..." I offer him a smirk and my feet move toward him with gentle strides and I notice Bill's eyes fluttering to and from my chest. My bra is boring but it's black- and black always leaves an impression no matter what it is. Plus, he seems to like the colour, considering he is dressed from head to toe in it, "You can do whatever you want with me."

The air vibrates between us, "What do you want to do to me, Bill?" My eyes flutter innocently up at his stocky frame and he pulls a quick breath into his lungs through his teeth.

"You want me to tell you, or do you want me to show you?" He is walking towards me now, an impure domineering twinkle gracing his eyes. He backs my steps up until I feel the wall crash into my spine and his long muscular arms cage me to the spot, "Are you afraid?" His face is craned down into my neck now, I can feel his breath on my skin and it settles just above my main artery that I can feel thumping.

I shake my head.

"You got any neck ties laying around here?" He asks and I nod in response.

"Top drawer, in the bedroom." I nod toward the dark hallway that connects my living room to all the other rooms in the house. He glances at it before allowing me to move from the wall, his hand slapping my ass hard.

"C'mon then, lets go get them." I giggle a bit as I run toward the bedroom, Bill following closely behind me, "And take the rest of those clothes off before I get there- or you'll regret it."

Excitement pricks at my heart and I assume he is talking about my suit pants and my shoes, and so I am happy to oblige as soon as I pass through the doorway into my bedroom. It's dark in there- pitch black, so I scramble around for the lamp on my bedside dresser, stumbling over clothes that have been left on the floor and more case files that really should be getting organised but aren't. My shoes are first to go, kicked beneath the bed and my pants are peeled down my legs. The rain had caught us on the way in so my skin is a bit damp and cold, making the fabric cling to my skin like it has been glued down.

I pull open my drawer, ignoring the vibrator that I usually hide in there I retrieve multiple neck ties- just in case he wants more than one and then I sit on the edge of the bed, watching the open door as Bill’s sturdy frame emerge's from the darkness of the hallway. Like a hunter stalking its prey.

"Are these okay?" I hold out the palms of my hands, the colourful neck ties splayed flat across them as I present them to Bill like a knight receiving his sword.

Bill's hands find his knees as he bends down to my line of vision, his face mere inches from mine, It’s almost mocking and I feel like I am about to get a telling off for bad behaviour, "I'm going to fucking ruin you, sweetie." His lips pinch his cheeks as he smirks devilishly, his hands pushing me harshly down onto the mattress- knocking the air out of my lungs.

“Wrists.” He demands and I clasp my hands together in the air without a second thought, my drunkenness blinding every ounce of my reasoning. Bill climbs on top of me, his knees at either side of my torso and he hovers there as he skilfully knots and binds my wrists tightly together. He has done this before...

“Please take your clothes off,” I beg, my voice coming out as a sweltering breathy pant and after he had finished securing my wrists to the bed frame he stands from the bed, my body moving with the shift in weight.

“You’re so polite, so fucking cute- you know what good girls get?” He perks an eyebrow, his hands gripping the hem of his black t-shirt as he pulls it up and over his head. The sight of his abdominal muscles tensing and contorting to the movement of his body has my mind sobering up slightly. I want that image permanently engraved in my mind, “They get anything that they want, sweet cheeks.”

He moves onto his jeans next and even just watching him unbuckle his leather belt has my pussy aching for more. I can’t stop admiring his body- he is so lean and strong, chiselled by the Greek gods themselves.

“Like what you see?” His voice takes the reins of every one of my thoughts and I nod my head, my thighs impatiently rubbing together desperate to get some sort of release, “Awww, is she pulsing?” Up until this moment I'd never been provided the chance to experiment this much in the bedroom, my one night stands were always so vanilla and borderline unsatisfactory- so to have my hands tied to the bed and someone as hot as Bill mocking my arousal... it's all so new. I love it.

"Touch me." It wasn't supposed to come out as a command, but it does and the dimple that screws itself into Bill's cheek leaves my wrists tensing against their restraints.

Bill's eyes settle between my legs, his tongue swiping out to briefly coat his swollen lips in momentary shine as he prowls up the mattress and only then do I see how stiff he is in his briefs- I just want him inside me.

Despite my state of tenseness Bill separates my legs with ease, a small 'fuck' leaving his throat as he drinks in the sight of my pantie class core, "Wanna make you scream..." Two of his slender fingers tactically stroke over the slick covered fabric that sticks to my puffy slit, teasing me softly as he applies just the right amount of pressure to my stimulated clit, "You're so wet already and I've barely touched you-" An egotistical hum swims through his deep voice, "My fingers are covered in you already."

I can't help the mewl that leaves my mouth as I watch Bill foam at the sight of me. No one's made me feel like this before, this wanted- this desired. Bill gasps as his fingers hook beneath the fabric of my underwear and it is shortly followed by a profane groan as his fingertips tease my needy entrance, "You're killin' me, baby." It makes my head whizz with exhilaration as Bill tears the poor garment of clothing from my body, slightly burning my skin with the friction as he does.

Goosebumps arise on my skin at the expose to such cool air, making me shiver where I lay. Bill's head of messy brown locks dip between my spread thighs, pressing trails of kisses from my kneecaps up to my bare centre where his tongue strokes a long slow strip through my glistening folds. His lips make a 'pop' noise as he sucks my sensitive cluster of nerves roughly , pulling away only to dive right back in again. And again...

"A..ah!" My back curves up from the comfortable springs beneath me but Bill continues to secure my hips in place, the grip his fingertips have on me is bruising as the room is filled with nothing but the lewd noise of wet sloppy slurping and pleasure pained moans.

"She's dripping," He coo's cutely, his voice is a muffled hum against my pussy and the vibrations cause my legs to quiver as they cage Bill's face between them. After one final stroke of his muscular tongue Bill spits on my folds before rising to steady himself on his knees, "Think you're ready for my cock now, babe?" His huge hand lads a sore slap against my heat and I cry out at the sting, tugging harshly on my bounds. It hurts but it also feels so fucking good...

"Yes! Yes, please. I'm ready... just want you to fuck me, Bill, please." I say with so much agony that it is comedic.

Two of his slim fingers push inside of me, filling and spreading me out as Bill finally free's his shaft from his underwear. His hand pumps at his length a few times, his thumb gently spreading the pre-cum from his tip to the rest of his thick rod, "Say, 'pretty please' and I'll think about it." His smile is more intoxicating than any of the alcohol that I've consumed and I'm growing to detest the affect he has on my body.

He carries on touching himself, his eyes hooding as he throws his head back in total bliss, "Pretty please." The words are almost a sob as I wiggle my hips, trying to meet him halfway. He bites his bottom lip, clearly satisfied with my pleading he taps his dick a few times against my slit only to shock me at the very last second as he pushes himself all the way inside. The stretch is glorious and my eyes are rolling to the back of my head at the sensation of him filling every inch of me.

"So warm- you're squeezing me so tight." It's now Bill's turn to moan as he bottoms out of my pulsating cunt and plunges himself back in again, "Keep this act up and I'll end up cumming before you do, sweetheart." The image of him coating my walls with his hot spunk makes me want to scream.

His thrusts quicken and with more ferocity, the room is captivated by the loud sounds of wet skin slapping skin and the perverted moans from both Bill and I.

"Don't stop! Ah.. fuck! Please don't stop!" My screams reverberate in my chest, bouncing off of every wall and playing back at us. It's evident that Bill has no intentions of slowing down and I struggle to keep my eyes open long enough to watch the perfect contour of his parted lips widen and how his dark eyebrows pinch together in pure delight.

He pulls out of me and grabs my hips. He flips me around to my stomach before pulling my ass up into the air where he spanks the skin brutishly and I endure the red marks that tingle their way up to the surface. Forcing my face down into the pillows he holds my head there as he propels himself back inside of me and the scream that leaves my mouth leaves me drooling all over my pillowcases. My mouth is unable to close from the constant moans exiting past my lips.

"I knew you were a slut, look at you-" He slaps my ass cheek again, punctuating his words, "Taking my cock so well. Am I hitting that sweet spot, baby?" I try to speak, I try to communicate with him but I can't. It's all too intense, "Right there? Yeah, Ugh, fuck yeah!" Bill's moans bless my ears and I feel a knot forming in the pit of my stomach, my high is hurdling toward me with every thrust his thick cock gives.

"Want you to cream all over me, can you do that?" I nod into the pillow, having given up on my words and Bill releases a noise that is somewhere between an hum of approval and a moan, "So good for me, so fucking good.." Maybe I hadn't noticed before now, but the way he praises me only increases the fire consuming my insides and I don't know if it's because of how attracted I am to Bill or just a newly discovered kink of mine but whatever it is it's working.

I struggle to breathe against the fabric of the pillow and my eyes pinch closed alongside every muscle in my body tensing as my howling orgasm washes over me. My legs are a shaking mess and I swear I pass out for a moment or so because Bill is the only thing keeping me kneeling upright as he pounds into me from behind- chasing his own release that soon follows closely after mine...

And we are left both a panting muddle of sweaty flesh in a room stinking of nasty sex.

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas

[popawritter12]

Hey heyy!! 🍊 anon here with another request!! Can you write yandere! Ghiaccio/Fugo (whoever you preffer!) with a very caring and clingy darling? Headcanon or fanfic whatever u feel like!!

Also hope youre doing alright!! Plz know that ur writing is delicious and god ur so underrated its INSANE like omg

Yandere! Fugo Headcanons for a caring and clingy darling

Author's Notes: THIS IS THE FIRST TIME THAT'S SOMEONE ASKED ME FOR YANDERE THINGS FROM JOJOS <3<3<3

By the way 🍊Anon, Thanks for the support! I hope you enjoy this request <3

Chance of your loved ones being killed

Fugo is someone who, because of his life, had to go through something so important that it is marked both at the beginning and at the end of all of Golden Wild: his explosive personality.

He is capable of hurting people, both those he loves and those he wants dead, and you, his beloved, understood this very well, so much so that 90% of the time, your friends take refuge in you to avoid the toxic wrath of Fugo —Even if it meant facing their jealousy, they didn't end up hurt at that moment.

In front of you he wouldn't kill, but secretly he is capable. So I bet there's up to an 40% chance of that happening. More than anything because, due to your personality, he usually avoids causing deaths, solely to avoid causing you some type of sadness.

First impressions

You were a fairly young Passione member when Fugo joined the team, being just a year older than him. You weren't someone who was very demanding, in fact you became friends with Fugo quite easily. Unlike others, you expected nothing more than to be a great friend of his for the sole reason that you shared the same age, and you shared certain things with Fugo due to the fact that your childhood was not very different from his, being that the pressure itself of your parents caused you to become a delinquent, and although it was not the direct cause, it was obviously one of the most important factors for your decision to abandon your family.

But anyway; You were someone much more cheerful and social than Fugo, since you always greeted people wherever you went; He considered you a great friend, and the comfort and conversations he shared with you were such that he ended up considering you one of the most important people in his life.

Fall in love

You know it, I know it, we all know it.

He ended up falling in love, and that feeling in his heart only grew with the passing of the days, like a plant that stretched its leaves slowly, but it ensured one thing: A long and strong stem.

It was not surprising to others that due to the closeness between the two, sooner or later it would lead to something resembling love. But that's when the question arises, does he even know what all this was going to become?

Most likely not, and it wasn't entirely his fault, you know? Love is something human, and that pain that was carried in his heart was relieved solely and exclusively with your existence, with your love and your constant hugs, without those signs of affection, he would surely lose his mind.

First act or Yandere act

In a flash of anger, he attacks deliberately, so, when you paid attention to one of these attacks, you noticed that there was a subtle release in one of his screams.

Narancia was arguing with him over mathematical problems, as always, and before anyone could intervene, there was a rather interesting exchange.

“—How many more times do I have to explain it to you so you understand it?!! Fugo yelled, his hand jerking the plastic knife in his hand.

In case you're wondering; Yes, they prohibited him from using metal utensils when studying because of those 'special teachings'.

—I already told you I don't understand it!

—You're so damn useless!

The sound of shoes hitting the carpet was barely audible,

—And why's my fault that you don't know how to teach?! —Narancia attacked.

The discussion slowly escalated in severity, and Bucciarati walked calmly down the hallway outside the room where the aforementioned discussion took place, and Abaccio was next to him.

—Do you want to know something?! Your classes became boring! I'm sure it's because of your desire to fuck (Name)! —Narancia shouted, —, and if you're so upset it's because you can't fuck them, so just ask them before becoming a bitter old man!.

Narancia was going to continue attacking him, but he just received a stab against the skin of his right cheek.

In the midst of his cry of despair, his open eye met Fugo's gaze. That look, that look in his greenish eyes were filled with such inner darkness that it caused a direct chill down Narancia's back, no, his spine, and the fear was of such magnitude that it permeated his bones and clung to him. to his soul like he had never seen before.

—You're not going to be talking about (Name) like that.

A dead whisper, accompanied by a look that seemed to emanate darkness, as if death itself were locked inside that eye, as if that trapped death had a deep desire to end Narancia's life at that precise moment.

—You don't even deserve to mention their name or enjoy their hugs—Fugo's tongue seemed to have transformed into a whip at that moment—, you don't even deserve to smell the scent of their hair!

The plastic blade was withdrawn, but before he could continue attacking, Buciarati pushed him, smashing his body against the nearest wall. And at the moment that the blonde's body and weapon brutally moved away from Narancia, he alone fell to the ground, his legs trembling and his breathing irregular, his heart beating violently against his chest.

And in that moment, only in that moment, Fugo's gaze never left Narancia's eyes, and the tension he exerted against Buciarati's grip was such that even the adult tried not to be reduced, exerting more force than he normally would needed to subdue him.

Narancia still remembers that dead look to this day.”

Or at least that's how Abacio told you while they were drinking tea, accompanied by a snort and a “don't trust Fugo too much” from him.

Beginning of Yanderism

After that event, Buciarati spent hours trying to talk to Fugo, but he seemed gone, so much so that, when he let him rest, he suspected that an enemy stand had attacked him. The possibility existed, but unfortunately for them, that was not the event of today, nor of the course of these days.

Abaccio spoke with you separately, trying to decipher the reason for the blonde's actions, but when he found no information from you, he ended up telling what happened that day, with some details that, although for you they were exaggerated, the serious look accompanied by Abaccio's personality, they made you understand that it was no exaggeration.

Maybe you should hesitate to continue with him?

Relationship or kidnapping

After a couple of months, he gets up the courage and tells you his feelings. You, naturally, accepted, hoping to make a great couple with someone you loved as much as Fugo.

The first few months were good, or at least until Giorno arrived.

Meanwhile, in the relationship, whenever you were giving him a couple of cuddles, there would be a moment where he would mention the doubts he had about Giorno. And although they debated the blonde, he was not someone who would affect their relationship.

Or at least until the events of Golden Wild, where he starts to be very cautious around you.

Coexistence

Fugo took the mission of having the treasure guarded by Buciarati very seriously, and when they met Trish, things didn't change much.

You got along very well with her, since you both shared many tastes, and although she seemed surprised to see you both together, she always supported the couple that the two of you made.

In the short time they were on the mission to return Trish to her father, Fugo seemed uneasy, especially with being alone with you.

It was mostly because he certainly became addicted to the constant pampering you gave him, and he hated the idea of anyone else seeing the two of you, and no, it wasn't because he was embarrassed to be with you in public —In fact, it was one of the things that mattered least to him—it was mostly the fact that, well, let's just say that he HATES that they want to receive more affection or attention than him.

When he and you were together, it was a special moment, and no one could stop both of you from having their special moment.

Marriage and family

I don't see him as interested in marriage, but if he can, he would love to have a small wedding ceremony with you.

And, as for your family, he would take good with them —Although you should pay attention to whether they are TOO jealous of you or if you are too clingy with them—.

If possible, children?

Of course,

I see how he would give his best to be a father, reading not thousands, MILLIONS of books to be a good father, and especially to take care of his loved one during difficult times of parenting or, if biology allows it, pregnancy

Bad ending

(MY FAVORITE PART OF THIS HEADCANON JUJUJU)

After Trish's mission, the entire team finds themselves with an almost impossible to solve dilemma; betrayal or not. For most of the group it was pretty easy, but for Fugo and you it was… too complex.

Fugo held your hand at all times, in his words were the reasons why you should go with him, insisting that, even if there was a chance of success, it was impossible to face the root of the problem, the person who was behind some of them. the most dangerous groups of people throughout Italy, and throughout the world. However, your idea of continuing was as firm as a metal bar clinging to the ground during a storm. He yelled at you that if you left with them, if you dared to even think about abandoning all the future there was for everyone in the group, then you would also abandon your life with him. But, even with all his words, even with tears in your eyes, you refused to abandon them.

Even with the pain and weight that was in your soul, you refused to abandon your best friends, your family, the people who accepted you from the minute you decided to enter this horrendous and dark mafia.

He felt lost, abandoned, unhappy… It was like his parents abandoning him again, but now worse. As if now, he had lost everything he knew he needed to be alive. And even if during the first hours he convinced himself that everything was fine, that you were going to return safely, that you were not going to throw your life down the drain, and that you were going to fill him with affection and love, but in his Soul, he knew it wasn't real.

As the days went by, he felt like an alcoholic in withdrawal, and he tried to avoid it, but his soul needed it, he needed it right there, right now.

And he decides to do it, he decides to make a decision that would completely change his life.

Near you in Rome, following each and every one of they steps, he finds himself seeing what he feared most; your wounds dry cuts on your skin, bandages on your abdomen or legs, or even a wound on your face, your delicate and soft face which he loved to take in his hands and fill with kisses was… damaged, and he found a direct culprit, or rather, guilty.

The anger in his veins and in his mind was such that he knew what his next move would be.

And no, it wasn't what you thought.

(This is where possibly everyone develops a hatred towards me that I perfectly I can accept it because even for me what I am going to put is a lot)

It took a lot for him to find you alone, to manage to corner you after a fight and knock you unconscious. All that pain, all that pressure that terrified his soul went out like a fire that was poured on him with a bucket of water for the simple act of hugging you. And in that moment, he knew he was doing the right thing.

It took him a bit to dispel suspicion of where you were, but he managed to cover a lot of your tracks. But he knew that Abaccio could find them, so he had to take you to a dusty apartment away from the others, with the sole objective of making sure they could never find you.

And, after so much worry, he managed to lose all trace of them, managing to take you to a house that his parents very lovingly lent him in a place curiously far from Italy and the whole world. Can you believe that they are so affectionate with their son?!

By the way, does anyone know where they are? At the airport, desperate to leave? How strange huh…

Reasons to become Yandere

-He is used to not receiving affection, and let's say that your affectionate, clingy, cuddly personality… affected his psyche much more than he could ever imagine.

-He was already abandoned once, do you think he would take a second abandonment so easily? Nuh-uh

-You are usually very understanding with him, being that you loved seeing how savage he looked when he unloaded on you, wanting to receive pampering after complaining about his daily problems.

Extra data:

-Surprise! He figured out how to manipulate his parents so he could get a “little deal.”

-Although in the canon he even has appreciation for Narancia, in this story he is capable of developing hatred for him, even wishing for his death.

-Let's say that he can make a deal with the boss solely to ensure that Giorno and company do not interfere in their relationship.

-After the bad ending, he accepts at the beginning that he should not receive pampering from you, but his abstinence will not last long, and even less so with how addicted he has become now.

-Unlike other Yanderes, where there may be some regret, in this character no, there is no regret for his actions, and he would not hesitate to take measures up to 5 times more drastic as long as no one screws up their relationship.

[writingoddess1125]

Small Touches

Bucky Barns x GN Reader

Fluffy 💕

Masterlist <<

Kofi <<

SFW

• Bucky’s not used to touch.

• Not after all the years of isolation, manipulation, and pain that have made him recoil at even the slightest brush against his skin.

• Despite therapy the weight of the Winter Soldier haunts him, making it hard to believe he deserves something as simple as a gentle hand.

• But when you come into his life, it’s like the walls he’s built around himself slowly begin to crack, piece by piece.

• Despite his best efforts

- You having been a Family friend of Sam, You of course were invited to a family outing. Sam also dragging Bucky with him to get him more socialized.

• The first time it happens, it’s an accident.

"(Y/N)! My favorite annoyance!" Sam called out once he saw you, of course a laugh bubbling from your chest as you walk over and give him a side hug to not spill your drink.

"Sam! How of the US chicken doing?" You joke with a wide smile as he rolls his eyes.

"Fine Fine- Smart Ass. Oh and (Y/N), this is Bucky Barnes, he is- someone who works with me" He introduced as he gestured to his acquaintance who gave a awkward smile. You still a bit buzzed from your drink and your natural social reaction also give a Side hug to the stronger with a cheerful greeting- Unaware you were hugging the side of his metal arm.

It leaves Bucky confused, wondering why your touch didn’t feel like the usual threat in the back of his head. A bit frazzled by it as Sam tries to explain away that you were a hugger-

He stiffens instantly, his mind racing, but you don’t even seem to notice.Instead of pulling away quickly or acting awkward, you continue talking, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"It's wonderful to have you here! Here have a beer and food should be done soon- Speaking of I think I left the drinks i brought in the car" You say cheerfully as you gesture to the grill near by. Setting down your drink on a near by seat as you excuse yourself to run the errand.

Interesting..

His breath catches, but you quickly pull away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. He doesn’t say anything, but inside, something stirs. It’s not fear—it’s curiosity. He hasn’t flinched. That’s… progress, right?

• It continues like that for a while—small, fleeting touches that don’t last long enough to feel overwhelming but linger just enough to leave an impression.

• A pat on the back when he does something good.

• Your hand briefly brushing his as you hand him something.

• They’re all innocent touches, but each one feels like another brick coming down from the fortress around his heart.

• Eventually, Bucky finds himself missing those moments.

• He won’t admit it—not at first—but something about your touch is grounding.

• It’s warm, and real, and for the first time in a long time, it doesn’t come with pain or fear.

• He starts to lean into it, allowing your hand to stay a little longer when it rests on his arm.

• He doesn't flinch when your fingers linger by his.

• The day he initiates touch for the first time catches you both by surprise.

You’re sitting on the edge of a rooftop, watching the sunset and chatting mindlessly, Bucky talking about how this area used to look like when he was young- when he hesitates for a second, then slowly reaches for your hand. His fingers wrap around yours cautiously, like he’s afraid of breaking something fragile.

It’s a big moment for him—one he’d been building up to in his mind for weeks.

He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, but the soft squeeze you give his hand is all the reassurance he needs.

EXTRA-

• Soon After he asked you out, which of course you say yes to.

Now Bucky is no Virgin, thats not a surprise since before he was a bit of a player- However that was a lifetime ago so now- He feels like he's starting from scratch especially with you.

This day in age also is much more sex positive then back in his day...

"You're Joking-" Bucky asked as he sat next to you slack jawed, while you laugh loudly next to him on the couch of your livingroom, your legs slung over his thighs as you two lounge together, having had to pause the movie that was being played cause it had a Tinder scene and he had been confused.

"No I'm not- I promise" You say with a wide smile as you wipe the tear from your cheek.

"Sex is not as sacred to some as it was before- So yes you can go on your phone and just swipe on pictures of people you'd want to have sex with, agree and meet up" You try to keep your laugh under control at the way his eyes widen and jaw slacks.

"But- No Date No- Dinner? Flowers? Like I had to put in so much effort back then! And now you can just- Do that?" He questions, now sitting up and waving his hand like a old grandma at how this generation is too open and should be more careful!

"I haven't even told you about the wide range of Imternet Porn either- Or Orgies, Sex Clubs, Free Use Clubs, Toys, BDSM" You say as you watch Bucky's face scrunched up in confusion at the last part ad he holds up a hand to stop you.

"B.D.S.M?"

[sanjisblackasswife]

Sjskwjskwk I had a cute random thought and I would LOOOOVE if you attempted it!! (Pretty please) Jus a cute lil short of reader attempting to make her own food because she feels she’s a bother to Sanji since he’s always making her things. Kind of like wanting to make him something in return but she fails miserable and he catches her in the act?? Idk random ik lmao but it would be darn cute😪😪💙

That’s TEW cute. Okay, enjoy!

Baking for Sanji (FLUFF)

WC: 900

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: None! Alotta fluff though.

-

“So two cups of milk—dammit where is the measuring cup?”

You managed to have the kitchen to yourself now that everybody has gone to bed. Even the cook of the ship considering he was exhausted from not only making meals all day but from having to fight off countless unneeded enemies that approached you all in the sea.

You couldn’t help, but notice how quick and swift Sanji was to save you from many close calls as you were fighting as well and he does it constantly. Sure, you all have grown to respect, know, and even become a family so it’s normal you all have each others back and it’s appreciated without saying, acts of service was everybody’s love language to each other including you, but you also wanted to give him a little something as a thank you. He mentioned he enjoyed a specific pastry once, but he never had the time to make it and you actually knew what he wanted because you’ve had it before in your childhood.

However you wasn’t a very good baker, but you wanted to try it none the less and surprise him that morning. As a thank you.

“Dang it!” You screamed the metal mixing bowl slipping from your clumsy fingers and crashing onto the recently cleaned floors. You mentally slap yourself hoping nobody heard and comes rushing in. It was already a pain to get Luffy out of the kitchen before you started.

The kitchen that was usually filled with delicious aroma that could overflow the ship was now filled with burning crust and sounds of the fire alarm going off. Your Sanji’s apron was covered in chocolate and flour as well as your hair, face and arms, you immediately grabbed a towel to fan out the smoke curses flow out your mouth of how annoyed you were at this whole silly situation and you hope Sanji doesn’t get too mad if he caught you ruining his kitchen.

“Y/N?”

You felt you organs drop down your stomach, you turned slowly, face hot as can be hoping it wasn’t the cook, but of course it was.

“What—what are doing? Are you okay?”

“I’m so sorry!” You groaned in defeat leaning on the kitchen island, “I am I really wanted to make that chocolate pastry you liked and surprise you, but my dumbass can’t bake for crap so I thought okay maybe if I followed the directions I wouldn’t mess up, but half of your cookbooks are in French and I could only use the pictures, and then I panicked an—“

Sanji Just started laughing, his voice erupted in the room and bouncing off the walls, the look of pure horror and panic was so cute to him. He stared at you the entire time with big round hearts, you were so cute! You had on his apron that he never really cared to use, but it fit you like a glove, it reminded him so much of when he first started cooking. Of course he wasn’t angry, he was flattered.

“Hey! Stop laughing!” You poured out your lip sulking on the messy counter, he wiped his teary eyes and pulled out a cigarette to light before coming next to you and rubbing your back. “I just wanted to surprise you.”

He swore his heart skipped a beat. He would have ate it whether it came out perfect or burnt. The thought of you cooking for him out of the blue made him smile with glee. Sanji turned at the mess you made did happily sighed.

“How about we bake it together, sweetheart?”

You side eye’s him, your cheeks warmed again seeing as he was so close to your side, hand dangerously low on your back tracing shapes on your skin. He grabs the towel and wipes your cheek gently, earning him a small grin from you.

“You’re not mad?”

“Never! I could never be mad at you! It’s the thought that counts, my love! Besides you look so amazing in that apron!”

His heart eyes were all over your body, he truly adorned you and so you both spent the night in the kitchen baking and having some nice quality time together. Sanji usually doesn’t enjoy cooking with others, but you made it fun.

Mostly because all you did was keep him company as you talked and taste tested for him while sitting on the counter.

“And Voilà!” He pulled out the plate to you, they looked and smelled amazing, your eyes drooling over the sweet treats in front of you and there was no mess to clean afterwards.

“Perfect as always, Mr. Prince.”

He blushed, taking a pastry in his hand he held it up to your mouth , “Say ah.”

You do as told and took a bite, he smiled at your happy reaction to the taste, it was heavenly,

“Thank you! Next time I have to bake for you though!”

“No worries, Angel. Its my pleasure to feed you.” Sanji kissed your forehead before giving you another pastry to eat, but this time you pulled him in between your legs and fed him.

“Say ah.”

His face was so cutely pink as you placed it in his mouth to bite into making you giggle, it reminded you of when you were a kidand you expressed that to him before as he was mixing the ingredients which is why he made sure to take his time, because as much as you appreciated Sanji he damn sure appreciated you.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Peter Wright

Published: Aug 1, 2023

At fifteen years of age I left school to start a blacksmithing trade. It was a physically demanding job but at the same time it was immensely creative and satisfying to learn about the physical properties of metals and their various states of malleability. When metal is in a red hot state it’s very similar in consistency to pottery clay which can be easily pushed, pulled, stretched, twisted, flattened, or poured – pretty much whatever you wanted to do with it. The only limitation was knowledge of how to use the hundreds of different grabbing tools, pincers, tongs, clamps, and hammers, but like any skill this would all come in time, with practice and with quality male mentorship.

While on the path of learning these skills I noticed a subsidiary layer of activity that was always accompanying the work, a psychological layer of emotional processes that seemed to mysteriously mingle with each task. If I was enjoying life, I tended to marvel more at the rainbow colours that would appear in the metal when grinding or heating it to varying degrees, or if I was experiencing frustration, anxiety or anger about something, I noticed that I was hammering a hot blade more aggressively than usual, generating a strange kind of relief and, I discovered, even further relief if I deliberately hit the object harder and with extra blows. Yet again I learned that if my hammering was getting too feverish I could at any moment choose to “quench” the hot blade in cold water, bringing an altogether different kind of relief.

Even at this young age I was consciously aware of how I was regulating my emotions via these acts, and of how this strange synchronicity of tasks formed a complement. I also learned to make good use of physical work to regulate my emotions when I needed to establish any kind of baseline equilibrium. This wasn’t a result of some special genius or education, nor from doing sessions with a psychologist or counsellor – it was my male nature understanding how to regulate itself.

In fact not only the tasks of blacksmithing, but any physical activity soon revealed itself as a project I would ‘use’ for a canvas to regulate emotions, and I could equally choose which physical activity to engage in based on what my desired outcome was – release of anger or frustration, to generate comfort, or perhaps to affirm or increase my enjoyment of life. All of this happened in a natural way as I engaged in work, various sports, and recreational activities (as it does for most men) without need to say a single word about my feelings to anyone. Furthermore, not only was I able to regulate my own emotions in this way, but I found I could equally use these techniques to help regulate the emotions of friends and family; if a friend was struggling in some way I would invite them on a mountain hike, camping, fishing, or to the cinema where they could quietly undergo the secret alchemy that I had found so helpful. Helping friends made me feel good too... was there anything I could not do with this wisdom?

As for most young men this made intuitive sense, though I would later add a layer of sophistication to that understanding when I studied the psychology of emotional processing. There I learned that while people can express emotions via physical acts and gestures, or alternatively by conversing about emotional issues, men tend to specialise more in action-based regulation of emotion than do women who tend to specialise more in verbal regulation of emotions.

With this acquired knowledge about men’s emotional awareness, imagine my surprise when I opened a study booklet written by one-time APA president Ronald Levant, published in 1997, claiming most men cannot understand their own nor other people’s feelings: “One striking and far-reaching consequence of the male socialization ordeal is the inability to differentiate and identify their emotions... In its most basic sense, to live detached from one’s emotions is to live isolated from oneself as well as from others – a condition that precludes true intimacy.”

This claim forms the basis of the theory that most men are severely lacking in emotional intelligence, and that even were they to discover some fragments of emotional awareness they would not know how to express it in words, such is the depth of male handicap. Levant refers to this condition as a normative male form of ‘alexithymia’ (a term meaning low emotional intelligence) which results in men being unable to read their emotions: “Lacking this emotional awareness, when asked to identify their feelings, they tend to rely on cognition and try to logically deduce how they should feel. They cannot do what is automatic for most women - simply sense inwardly, feel the feeling, and let the verbal description come to mind.”

According to this theory, men’s lives are guided by action empathy, which are said to be an inadequate substitute for genuine emotional empathy, a skill typically displayed by most women. Action empathy is defined as the ability to see physical motivations from another person's point of view, and to focus on which concrete actions those people might perform, but that men otherwise do not understand emotional empathy in the way women do – women who are able to take another person's perspective and know how they feel. “Action empathy also differs from emotional empathy in terms of its aim. Emotional empathy is usually employed to help another person and is thus prosocial, whereas action empathy is usually employed in the service of the self.”

As a result of men’s claimed low emotional intelligence, they are said to become strangers to their own emotional life, unconsciously transmuting their vulnerable emotions into anger and aggression, while also tending to extrude their caring emotions through the narrow channel of sexuality.

Far from being evidence of low emotional intelligence, however, men’s tendency to use action can be better understood as a form of emotional acumen. Some studies of emotional processing indicate that men and boys are able to identify the specifics of emotional arousal in themselves and others as well as do women – emotions like jealousy, love, anger, sadness, anxiety, and so on. For example, one study of 1285 men and women found that while women were more proficient at verbalizing feelings, men and women were equally proficient at identifying feelings, and another study by Fischer et al. of more than 5000 participants’ ability to perceive facial emotions found “no gender differences in the perception of target emotions”. Fischer et al. comment that this finding “diverges from various earlier reviews and meta-analyses on gender differences in emotion accuracy”. They speculate that this difference might be because earlier research tended to use student samples, whereas the participants in their study were from a range of ages and backgrounds.

The second observation, as outlined above, is that men and boys may choose to regulate emotions not by verbalising them so much (women’s preferred method) but by taking intelligent action. By way of example a woman might talk with her melancholic friend about what is worrying her in order to cheer her up; the man may invite the same melancholic friend to the movies; both responses - talking, or acting - serve to intelligently modulate emotions.

It is an error to conflate these two separate features of emotional processing as if they were one and the same: 1. recognising emotions, or 2. verbalising feelings. Men, like women, can usually recognise the full range of emotional phenomena but they may choose to respond to that knowledge in a very different manner than does the average woman. Men often choose to respond to such awareness by doing something pragmatic instead of verbalising feelings.

Talking about doings

The two ways of regulating emotions have implications for the field of mental health, which relies predominately on talking therapy – in particular talking about feelings. Does this not suggest that there could be, and perhaps needs to be, more emphasis on discussing the therapeutic value of action? It may not be practical to conduct therapy while engaged in physical activity such as a gym workout or while out walking in the streets, but the therapeutic discussion can at least focus more on the “doing” aspects of a man’s life. For example a therapist might ask how did problem XYZ make a man act out, along with exploring which physical activities or responses might help him to modulate such emotions more optimally in future. Does riding a Jet Ski, or going for a jog, or building some wooden furniture make him feel better or worse? Does that difficult manoeuvre in the video game remind of difficulties in his relationship with his girlfriend? Does the same video game provide some optimism that if he can get past the difficult manoeuvre within the game then perhaps he can find a way around the impasse with his girlfriend? Activities like these provide a symbolic canvas on which men project, and then work through various scenarios of real life, with potential to shift affective resonances in the process.

When a man talks about how he operated a lathe, did some welding, restored a bit of discarded and broken furniture, might he be sharing a strategy of how he successfully redirected suicidal feelings? Perhaps we should not be so quick to shut down these conversations with accusations of being work obsessed, effectively stymieing natural male expressions with injunctions to talk less about activities and to communicate more effusively with feelings words. For many men, activities are the preferred canvases on which they can process feelings and carve out some genuine psychological equilibrium.

This is probably a reason why men talk so much about work, sports, building things, computer games, recreational activities – it may be their preferred way of communicating the ways they wrestle with psychological issues. Sadly, the therapeutic industry is quick to chastise men’s preference for intelligent actions, conflating them with pathological reflexes such as unconscious acts of aggression, dependence on drugs and booze, and other destructive versions of so-called “acting-out” as they are so often branded.

Therapies centred in discussion of physical activities, or conversely centred in sharing strings of feeling-words, can both serve as forms of communication. With this in mind it’s perhaps time for therapy to free itself from looking exclusively into the mirror of feelings so it can look out of the window at the range of concrete activities that also serve the psyche. The reaction of men to this approach might surprise us all.

==

Men are not broken women.

[tired-but-willing]

The Shadows Shadow

Pairing: Kaz Brekker / Inej Ghafa

Word Count: 1,525

Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence, and the Menagerie. Nothing is explicitly detailed.

Summary: A short hurt/comfort piece focusing on Inej's trauma, as I feel there aren't enough works doing that. It's not overly fluffy because it takes place earlier in the timeline— but I hope it's still enjoyable!

Authors Note: My @grishaversesecretsanta for the lovely @milo-my-beloved ! This project was an absolute treat to work on, and I'm very excited for 2024. Please check out the Secret Santa blog for works by other talented writers and artists.

Divider from @cafekitsune

There are some days where Inej thinks she never left the Menagerie behind.

It clings to her like a shadow, haunting her the same way she haunts Ketterdam. The Wraith pursued by a ghost. Perhaps it's a twist of irony, or the curling of a monkey's paw. A reminder that freedom in contract is not freedom in soul, and Inej may be free, but the young Suli girl torn from her home still sits terrified underneath the dictation of Tante Heleen. Her past is separated sorely from her present, and she finds difficulty in reconciling the small, fearful girl with herself. There are some similarities, of course. She is still slight. Her hair is still long. Hair holds memories, and memories are the dearest thing in the world. Not even memories of Heleen can destroy the devotion to other relics of the past, like her mother and father, or her dearest brother.

Unfortunately the consolation of familiarity is naught when the family she seeks isn’t there in her grasp. The warmth of her father is just out of reach. Her mothers laugh is out of earshot. This leaves her with nothing— not even her brother to hold, as she always loved to do. She sits alone on the cold floor of the Crow Club, back to a tile wall that may as well be formed of ice. Her feet— bare, always bare when she needs to ground herself— absorb the chill through the ground as well, prompting a shiver to wrack her body. She’s never been fond of the cold. It’s not that she hates it; she feels neutral to ice and chill; but she would always take a roaring fireplace and comfort over cold. Except for today. Today is when she needs the ice to keep her awake and remind her that she is alive. That she will stay alive until she reunites her family. Then, and only then, can she rest.

The task drives her forward. Faith that the Saints will bring her quest to fruition by being her guiding life keeps her going, keeps her fighting. There are some days, however, where hope feels like a monumental thing.

Like here. Now. Alone with her knees to her chest, feeling as small as she was when she arrived under Heleen’s thumb. As helpless as when she was ripped from her mothers clutches. Small and scared and everything that Inej Ghafa does not think of herself. Her size is at all times a strength; building into agility. Now it makes the bathroom feel much larger. The world, larger still; and she is alone. The warning of a sob drags at her breath, forcing the air inside her lungs to stutter and hitch like an unoiled door; coming in short bursts. It’s a balancing act, trying to maintain composure. Ketterdam is not a place where one can afford to look weak. There are those who would sink their teeth into anything raw, simply because they need to, to survive. Inej isn’t surprised by this. She’s had to bite into more than she wants— teeth bloody and tongue iron-coated with desperation. She’s had to claw and tear to live. It’s the way of the world, she knows; even if she hopes in her heart of hearts for a kinder place. Another universe where Inej Ghafa hurts nothing and is never hurt in return.

There’s a knock at the door that tears her from her thoughts; the subtle clunking that comes from metal and not man. The crow-head knob of a cane, not a fist. It makes her rise to her feet— albeit slower than usual— to respond.

“Kaz,” she says. She wouldn’t have to look to know it was him. She could recognize him anywhere, at any time; blindfolded and with her ears plugged.

“Inej,” comes his cool reply. He acts much older than he is. She supposes all of them do. Even Jesper, who can be so easily overlooked for being ‘immature’, is so far beyond what he should be allowed to be. “I thought I might find you here.”

“In the bathroom, yes. You could’ve waited until I was finished.”

“I didn’t hear you wash.” There’s a small smirk then. “I’d hope you never started.”

He caught her there. Inej wasn’t going to pretend she was using the restroom, anyway. It would be a pointless endeavor. Lying to Kaz often was. It was a bit unfair how good he was at sniffing out secrets while stacking up miles and miles of his own. Of course she could read him— she had recognized his tells— but he built in failsafe after failsafe.

Some days, she wondered if even Kaz Brekker knew who Kaz Brekker was. If the walls fooled even him.

“I needed to clear my head.”

He doesn’t question why she wouldn’t just go outside, as she always did when she needed to think. It’s no secret that Inej much prefers brooding on rooftops, if she must brood at all.

“And?”

It’s a prompt that both surprises her and doesn’t. She knows that somewhere inside him, Kaz cares. For her, for Jesper— but for his plans, too. She thinks that’s what makes it so difficult for him to express a single thing. If he admits he feels anything at all, then someone else can sink their claws into it, and he’ll lose it all.

“And it’s clear,” she says. 

“I think if it were clear,” he retorts. “You wouldn’t be sitting on the floor. Which is unsanitary, by the way.”

“We wash it.”

“Not often enough.” His nose wrinkles, then, and his age strikes her once more. “You could come to my study.”

An offer, now. Inej turns it over in her head. It feels unbalanced— sharing part of her with someone who won’t readily share himself in return. Inej doesn’t want to give and give and give. She wants, for once, to receive. But she’s tired too. Tired of toiling her own worries over in her mind, over and over again until she crumbles and cries into the night clutching a small scrap of fabric.

“Okay,” she says.

“Okay,” says Kaz. And they go.

The study is more like a museum than an office. The paintings on the walls are stolen. She would know— she helped take most of them. There’s something familiar about it, though, that almost allows her to remove her guard. Almost. She won’t ever shed all her armor, but she can remove small pieces.

She takes one off when she says “How do I know this means anything?”

“This?” Asks Kaz. 

“Everything we do. I want to find my family, Kaz— it feels like I’ll never get there. The Saints—”

“The Saints won’t have anything to do with it when you find them,” he interrupts. When, not if. “It’s going to be you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Really?” He sits down on the edge of his desk, seemingly uncaring for the documents mere inches from where he made himself comfortable. “I wouldn’t work with someone incompetent. If anyone can track them— it’s you.”

It’s his way of complimenting her, she knows. Calling to her competency. Sometimes, though, she wishes he were more forthright.

“Is this your way of saying you believe in me?” She asks. It’s easier to joke than to crumble. “I’m touched.”

“You should be,” he responds, smiling wryly in the way only he can. “Not many people experience my kindness.”

And yes; it is kindness, for him. To have him call it that feels like a step in the right direction; even if his words are half-drenched in sarcasm at all times.

“I’m very lucky, then,” she says— equally wry as he.

“Do you regret it?” asks Kaz suddenly. It seems uncharacteristically vulnerable for him. He follows up. “You aren’t indentured to the Crow Club. You can leave. I won’t stop you. Jesper may whine—”

“Jesper.”

“---but he wouldn’t, either. You could go.”

“I could.”

“But you’re not.”

“I’m not,” she agrees. “I don’t regret it.”

She doesn’t. Not now. Maybe for a brief second, sitting on that bathroom floor, she did. Because she’d felt so small and insignificant, and she wanted only for things she couldn’t have. Now, Kaz reassures her. Some hopelessness still lingers. She thinks it won’t leave— not until all she wants is finally in her reach. But it’s diminished.

Progress is progress. She’ll take the hope she can have and she’ll hold it close, claws sunk in to prevent its escape. She’ll bite into it because biting is all she can do.

“I don’t regret it,” she repeats. This time it’s for his benefit. Something in Kaz doesn’t relax then, but it does the next closest thing. Something in his smile seems less like a monster and more like a boy. 

It’s barely noticeable. All she does is notice things. They make a good pair, him and her.

“Good,” he says. “I don’t, either.”

The conversation won’t be enough to keep her satisfied. It won’t soothe her at night when she is cold. It won’t place a healing balm upon her grief. 

But it warms her now, and that is enough.

[knickynoo]

Back to the Future: The Animated Series, s02ep03 “A Friend In Deed” Review and Commentary

Previous episodes linked here.

In this episode: Lots of funny moments, another woman from the past falls in love with Marty, and I go on ramblings about Tiffany Tannen and my dislike of Cartoon Marty.

Season 2 of the animated series is really making use of green screens, huh? In episode one, Doc was stranded on an island, then he was in outer space in episode two, and now he's at the "Hill Valley Beach and Synchronized Swimming Center." He's wearing a funky outfit and using a metal detector to search for money in the sand.

Is this the first time we're seeing Doc in shorts?? I can't recall, but it might be.

He tells us that he's found 85¢ so far and that it's only cost him $200 in equipment to do so. Oh, Doc. You are one of a kind.

He leads us into a story of another situation that involved buried valuables. And instead of the story beginning like it typically does with, "It all started when my sons..." or "It all started when Marty...", this story begins with Biff. And that lets us know right off the bat that it's all downhill from here, lol.

Cue the cartoon!

We begin at the Tannen residence (always a treat to hear Tom Wilson's voice), where Biff has decided that what his family needs is a swimming pool. Yes, his family. And who do we meet? His son!

I've always been intrigued by what adult Biff's family situation was like. I know that an early draft of the film had George buying the peanut brittle from Biff's young daughter and that the BTTF card game and the Citizen Brown comics mention Biff's teenage daughter Tiffany Tannen. (She was also supposed to have a role in the video game, but her character was cut and "combined" with the alternate version of Jennifer.) This is the concept art for her.

There's also speculation that Tiff might be included in the "Continuum Conundrum" series from the IDW comics. In the story, which takes place in the months following Marty's return home after part III, there's mention of Jennifer's friend group, which includes someone named "Tiffany." Some fans headcanon that this is a referring to Tiff Tannen. I don't really have an opinion on the theory one way or another, but it would be SUPER interesting if one of Jennifer Parker's best friends in the Lone Pine Timeline is Biff's daughter.

I would LOVE to see fanfics that include her or even focus on her. There's so much potential! You could have her resemble what she was supposed to be in the game—all rough around the edges and 100% a Tannen—or completely rework her to be a genuinely nice person. Maybe she actively rejects the Tannen reputation. Maybe she's a sweet person, but people are wary of her and judge her based on her appearance or her name. Maybe she is friends with Jen and thinks Marty is a neat guy. So much someone can do.

I digress.

In typical Biff fashion, he's going to make his young son dig the hole for a pool while he sits around in a lounge chair. Father of the year. Also, we haven't seen a whole lot of Biff so far in this series, so I haven't had anything to say about him, but it's clear he's not the meek version of Biff we have at the end of the first film. Cartoon Biff acts very much like he was never taken down a notch or had anything happen to humble him. So...I wonder what the story is there.

(Side note to also mention that we haven't seen—or even heard of—George and Lorraine. Marty's just always at Doc's house, with no information on parents or siblings. I wouldn't be surprised if a young kid watching this in 1992 without having seen the movies simply thought that Marty was part of Doc's family.)

While digging, Little Biff (referred to as Junior) unearths a piece of paper. We don't know what it is, but Biff gets a smile on his face as he reads it, so it can't be good. We cut immediately to the Parker family ranch!

Jen's family owns a ranch! I love it!

Marty is there having lunch with Jen and her grandparents, but it is NOT going well. Because Cartoon Marty is nearly unrecognizable from his Movie Counterpart, he's being an immature, disrespectful doofus around Jen's relatives. He places a whoopee cushion on Jennifer's grandmother's seat, then puts a fake ice cube with a spider "frozen" in it into her drink. And he just sits there hysterically laughing even though nobody else thinks it's funny. Jennifer's grandfather in particular becomes angered by Marty's incessant pranking.

Grandpa Parker, considering pummeling Marty.

And I know I've mentioned many times about how much I dislike the choices made with Marty's character, but. Seriously, what happened here? WHO made these choices and why didn't Bob Gale stop them? This might as well have been a completely different character, that's how unlike Marty he is. He's self-centered a lot of the time. He's dishonest (there was a whole episode where he just piles on lie after lie). He's cocky and inconsiderate and ridiculously immature. He is NOT my Marty McFly.

See the boy on the left? Love the boy on the left. Fantastic little dude. Five out of five stars. See the boy on the right? Don't like him all that much. Many things wrong. Sad.

It bums me out that they took such a great, loveable guy and ripped all his great traits to shreds, leaving us with whatever it is Cartoon Marty's got going on. I don't even know. Guy's got issues.

Time to reel my focus back in. Just as Grandpa Parker seems poised to give Marty a serious talking to, Biff shows up wit the police. Marty asks Jennifer why her grandparents would invite Biff because, "He's a jerk with a bad sense of humor."

"Look who's talking," Jen's grandfather replies.

Go. Grandpa. Parker.

When Grandpa Parker orders Biff off his land, Biff informs him that it's HIS land. The piece of paper he found in his yard was a deed to the Parker property dated 1875 and signed by one of Jen's relatives, as well as Biff's great-great-granduncle.

Biff tells the Parkers that he's going to turn the ranch into a toxic waste dump and miniature golf course, which is both horrible and very funny. Quite in-character for Biff Tannen. As he prepares to order the house to be demolished, Jennifer calls to Marty for help, but he's taken off on his hoverboard. Assuming that he's doing it to run away from the trouble, Jennifer proclaims, "There's nothing worse than a chicken." The actual, literal chicken standing beside her gets very insulted and walks away, lol.

We then go to the Brown home, where Verne is impatiently waiting to eat. Jules is making him pancakes on a ridiculous specialized griddle he invented because Jules is extra like that.

Marty bursts into the kitchen, yelling that he needs to borrow the DeLorean to help Jen's family. Jules informs him that the car isn't there—Doc and Clara have taken it to go see Hamlet, performed by the original cast—but that he can use the train. Marty and the boys take off for 1875.

Once there, Marty immediately sets his sights on warning Jennifer's relatives about the ranch. However, he's interrupted before he can do so, on account of another woman spies Marty and immediately has a crush on him (naturally). I should have been keeping count of how many episodes include someone laying eyes on Marty and falling in love with him.

But wait. Wait. You NEED to know how the scene starts off. The woman walks straight up to Marty and goes, "Howdy, handsome!" followed immediately by this:

Verne: "Handsome? Get real."

Jules: "Get glasses!"

Had to stop it right there because I was laughing. Jules and Verne think Marty is ugly CONFIRMED.

Anyway, the woman ends up being Hepzibah Tannen, sister of Thaddeus Tannen (whose name was on the deed). And Hepzibah is head-over-heels for Marty. At one point, Marty ends up at her house, and Thaddeus is not thrilled to meet him. Before he can toss him out, Hepzibah picks Marty up, holds him close, and shouts at her brother, "Give me that! It's mine!"

Ridiculous.

Since his sister is so in love, Thaddeus agrees to let Marty join his gang. Thaddeus teaches Marty how to box and how to steal things from people (Marty immediately returns the items when Thaddeus isn't looking. +1 point for Cartoon Marty). Marty also continues his practical jokes by giving Thaddeus gum that turns your mouth black. Thaddeus isn't happy. This is necessary info to understand part of the next scene.

Back on the Parker ranch, where Jules and Verne have become farmhands, they come across these posters.

Several things to note here. 1. "DEAD OR UNALIVE" 2. Marty's gum gave Thaddeus a nickname. 3. Marty is only "sort of wanted" 4. Thaddeus evidently decked Marty for playing a prank on him.

Later on at the Tannen home, Thaddus suggests Marty and Hepzibah get married. This is followed by some very funny dialogue.

I'm definitely finding the humor to be better in the second season. I've laughed out loud several times since I started it.

The next day, Thaddeus and one of his other gang members go off to get Marty and Hepzibah a wedding present. Marty manages to sneak away from his "engagement picnic" to intercept Thaddeus, who is in the process of stealing the ranch from Mr. Parker. He has Mrs. Parker tied to the railroad tracks, and the only way he'll let her loose is if the deed to the ranch is signed over. This is his wedding present to his sister and Marty.

Which. Doesn't really make sense? I mean, it makes sense here, but then what motivated him to steal it originally, before Marty time traveled? Maybe Hepzibah had fallen for a different guy? Or Thaddeus simply wanted the ranch just because? Idk.

When Thaddeus goes to sign the deed, Marty lends him a pen (which is another prank, hehe. The pen has ink that eventually fades away.) Thaddeus then refuses to untie Mrs. Parker, so Marty refuses to go back home with him. Thaddeus leaves, Marty, Jules, and Verne save Mrs. Parker, and all is well. Marty assures the Parkers that their ranch is safe, and he hops on the time-train with the boys.

Marty returns to the present-day ranch, stops the bulldozer, and shows everyone the deed, which now has no signatures. Biff gets a citation for disturbing the peace, and Marty is back in Jennifer's good graces. The end!

Back at the beach, Real Doc digs up an antique fountain pen, accidentally squirts himself in the eye with the ink, and then leads us into the experiment portion of the show, where we're taught how to make invisible ink. We then return to Doc, who finds something else with his metal detector: the keys to the DeLorean that he'd lost the week prior. Yep. Doc had been searching the sand all that time for his car keys. Goofy guy.

Fun episode. I always enjoy when they're Marty, Jules, and Verne-centered, and this was a funny one as well. It was neat having an episode with so much Tom Wilson! (he voiced Biff and Thaddeus)

Wow, this post was a long one. I did go on a few side-tangents, haha. To those who read this whole thing: thanks for sticking with me. I'm so glad there are people who enjoy reading these silly episode commentary posts!

Join me next time to see Marty accidentally join the army in 1944.

[omegothic]

i've watched 21 episodes of kill la kill in a day so. might as well write something about it.

when i just started watching it, all i knew about it was sawano hiroyuki's music, the main character and her very revealing outfit.

the first episode was really confusing but i liked it. in general, the first episodes make you fear the higher-ups in the school, they could do anything to ryuko and nobody would've been able to defend her. the stuff was heavy there.

i liked ryuko and satsuki from the get-go. not a lot of anime have female characters like this. what i don't like in female characters in most anime is how their behaviour often depends on what is feminine and what is not. they simply are not allowed to do cool stuff most of the times, and if they are, they should stay feminine, either cute and girly or seductive. both ryuko and satsuki are not like that. yeah they fight while being practically naked, they don't care, they're gonna kick ass and it's gonna be fucking metal.

what made me go like "ugh i don't think i like this show anymore" was when there wasn't much important stuff going on and the big bad villains became closer to the main crew. like, why are we getting these jojo golden wind style backstories? are we supposed to support them? why are they not scary anymore, i thought there was a dictatorship going on? and we were getting glimpses of satsuki acting like a normal person and i was so confused. like, she is always so polite with her butler. she always says "please" and "thank you". i liked that in her but i kept thinking, why is she doing that. she doesn't seem to be hungry for power or blood, she does not stab ryuko in the back when she has an opportunity to. this was fascinating but i couldn't find an answer.

then they gave us a glimpse of what her mother's been doing to her all this time and i felt sick to my stomach. i thought, maybe she is brainwashed and that's why she doesn't rebel. needless to say, i was surprised when she betrayed her mother but it was a positive feeling.

and then i learned that ryuko and satsuki were sisters and. well i'm gonna be honest i felt like shipping them and was like "HUH" when it was revealed. i mean them being sisters is cool too but i thought there was a different dynamic 😅 like thank you guys for ruining my fun but it was a good plot twist nonetheless. funny that i haven't expected any of those.

now there's 3 episodes left for me and i hope there's gonna be a satisfying ending. that child r#pist bitch should die a horrible death.

and god, this show is so weird.

p.s.: i just found out that mako and ryuko are a thing and i'm like dawg 😭😭😭 because mako's family took ryuko in i completely missed the possibility of them being into each other 😭😭😭 i was like yeah they are like sisters 😭😭😭 i got everything mixed up

[muqingswife]

how i think modern!aegon and modern!helaena looks like

@fan-goddess heres what you asked!

note: english is not my first language, im from brasil i speak pt br português brasileiro and im using the translator sometimes, sorry for my mistakes

lets goooo 😋

ok ill start with the same i started on aemonds (i just copied and pasted, if you've already read aemonds you can skip to the text under the dots, but if you havent read it, heres the link:

first off all, their family would remain a monarchy, maybe like danish royalty (i read somewhere that the Danish royals have more political power than the British royals or something like that, and i honestly cant think the Targaryens giving up any power that they could have) and here we DONT have incest!!!! read my thoughts below:

viserys didnt die yet and still being the king

he is rhaenyras stepfather so she can marry daemon with "no problem" and shes the heir of the iron throne

the line of succession to the throne would be: rhaenyra, jacaerys, lucerys, joffrey, aegon and viserys (idk whos the eldest), aegon, helaena, aemond and finally daeron

even though aegon is the 7th in the line of succession, he acts as if he were the first, which is unbearable most of the time

helaena on the other hand, doesn't care about royal duties as much as her siblings do 🤷🏻

they have the same hair as in the show, prove me wrong

aegon is a womanizer and everyone knows that, takes advantage of his title as prince to fuck girls (and even professors when he needs high grades 😶

helaena ALWAYS has high grades, she (try) helps her classmates when they're down in a subject but doesn't really have any friends, maybe 1 or 2 who are "close"

bc of that she stays more with aemond or with baela and rhaena

she is the quiet girl in the class, drawing random things in her notebook, sit next the window not too far forward and not too far back

while aegon is a total disaster - he sits with his little group at the back of the class and talks the whole class (idk if students still get sent to co-ordination for bad behavior in college, but if they are, he would definitely go at least 5 times a week

if he decides to study, he will give up after 2 minutes and the rest of the time, he is disturbing the class

returning to the appearance hc

this is how i imagine their style

i dont even know is that are rock or metal bands but he like this things and dont ask me the name of helaenas style, i forgot 😮‍💨

maybe aegon would have a band, like tom, i dont know if nobles can do that 🤷🏻

aegon would wear tighter clothes than my ass when i have a surprise test and helaena like looser clothes and specific fabrics (in my thoughts shes autism

helaena doesnt wear makeup and when she does, is not too much, almost imperceptible

aegon has dark circles

i think aegon would not be so tall, maybe 175cm/5'9 and helaena at most would be 168cm/5'6

as i said in aemonds post, helaena has a collection of insects, dead and alive

the collection of dead insects obviously she didnt kill them, she just found them and wanted to keep them to study

speaking of that, helaena would be an entomologist

SUNFYRE IS A GOLDEN RETRIEVER AND THIS IS CANON

dreamfyre is maybe a butterfly? im kind of confused which insect she looks like (im even afraid of flies and i really dont want to research insects 🥺

this was a little short because i dont have as much affinity with them than i have with aemond, but i hope u like it and help you with ur dr 💗

idk where u live but here in brazil its still 20th, i keep my promise 🥳🥳🥳

[starry-blue-echoes]

So remember that "surprise" I mentioned the other day :3

WELL GUESS WHO FINISHED DRAWING THE CAT ECHOES ACTS >:3333

Act 1's main body is roughly the same size as Koichi's, but its tail adds a lot to its size and makes it seem much larger. On its back is a yellow "1" and it is capable of carrying Koichi around but the rounded surface and lack of purchase make balance a bit difficult. While the helmet and back/shoulder plates are tougher than its soft and fluffy underbelly and tail, it only provides a minimal amount of protection and bends easily under pressure. However, its speed, size and flexibility make it incredibly maneuverable. Its tail is coated in a thin layer of fur and tipped with a three taloned prehensile claw, however the most damage the claw can do is equal to that of a regular cat claw

Act 2 is much more protected than the previous Act with most of its body being much harder. Only the black portions, its feet and part of its head are soft with the rest being hard plating. The plates on its back feel more metallic while the ones on its tail and head have a slightly scaly texture to it. Most of the plating is smooth, however it does have a few yellow gems on its back. While it now possesses claws on the ends of its feet, offensively they can only be used for close range attacks. However, they do assist in the usage and finer details of Act 2's ability, during which it will knead and shape the diamond like its dough. Because of the tail's new size and strength, Act 2 also now has the ability to throw Koichi short distances

And finally, my personal favorite, Act 3! Big kitty! It can control the texture of its entire body, allowing it to change between cold hard metal, leathery scales, and soft warm fur. The plates that form the mane are emotive, flaring out whenever it or Koichi feels angry, distressed, surprised or excited and lying flat when either are calm, content or just tired. It is capable of carrying human passengers in flight and has gained a huge speed boost making it very reliable transportation. The gem at the end of its tail can't do anything special, but it is a good blunt force weapon. The shattered gem on its left hind leg is a remnant of Koichi's injuries and scars from the Centipede Shoes. While the wound does impair Koichi's walking, its reflected in Echoes because of the psychological affect Kira had on him and circumstances of Echoes's evolution

Act 3 is still completely sentient and capable of speech, which it uses on a semi-regular basis. Not super often, but enough that it's stopped being strange to those familiar with it. It's very protective of Koichi and the rest of the gang, seeing them all as family

I also made a size comparison “chart” with Jotaro for scale, and it was only as I was comparing Act 3 to the other two which I realized just how BIG it was but honestly I think that makes its even more hilarious so I’m not changing it-

[nocandnc]

Mao theory time:

Daigo’s new right arm belonged to Nanoka’s father.

Triggered by the arrival of Natsuno’s bell in the Reiwa era, Byouki discovers Daigo’s missing arm buried in the place Nanoka’s parents died, back where the timelines first converged. Quite a coincidence, no?

Byouki is surprised by this however. It’s not like the arm had been buried there intentionally after all… but on accident. In an accident.

Sure, it looks like Daigo’s arm now… but I don’t think it looked like that from the beginning. I don’t think it was really Daigo’s arm, or that his body was chopped up and scattered across Japan.

The reason why Natsuno must look for the parts gradually, I beleive, is because it takes time for suitable ‘replacement parts’ to turn up. For people capable of conforming to Daigo’s powers to be born and grow to adulthood.

So what caused the change?

Being buried.

Daigo was of the earth element, so to me it makes perfect sense that prolonged exposure to it would cause a change. If earthen medicine can heal wounds, why not graft limbs and transform flesh entirely?

We see on the day of the accident that the Kiba family vehicle was run pretty far into the ground. It’s not unlikely that the front windshield shattered in the crash. Between the broken glass and crumpled metal, a limb could easily get severed… and depending on how the extraction was conducted, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if it got lost in the ground as a result.

But why Nanoka’s father?

Because bloodlines matter when it comes to onmyouji prowess. If great skill is possessed by the parent, it’s likely this talent will be passed onto the child. Like Daigo, Nanoka is of the earth element… so her father should be as well. Strongly enough to suit Daigo’s resurrection needs.

So what does this mean?

Well, nothing for now! But to have Daigo’s final body part be discovered in the Reiwa era, in the place Nanoka’s parents died… I feel there must be a bigger reason for this.

It’s with his right hand that we first see Daigo doing good, acting on some sort of reflex to protect a girl from angry villagers. If there were some fatherly instincts bleeding through… something connecting Daigo to Nanoka… I think that’d be interesting indeed.

And that’s the end of my rambling! Enjoy!!

[call-me-double-trouble]

Double Trouble fankid: Charlatan’s little sibling, Masquerade!

Ohhoho, did you think Charlatan was my ONLY DT kid OC? Think again!

Like Char’s intro, this will be a long post, so all the info on Masquerade is under the cut!

Masquerade, or Quera (pronounced like “Kera”) for short joins the family when Char is 13. Unlike Char, Quera isn’t adopted. I headcanon that DT can reproduce asexually (some lizards can), and that’s how Quera happened. DT was terrified when they first laid the egg. Would it survive? What would they do if it didn’t? How would Char react? Since they weren’t even sure if it’d hatch, they told no one about the egg. They stored it somewhere safe and warm, trying not to get their hopes up in case the baby didn’t make it.

They did eventually tell Char so that he’d have time to mentally prepare. They were worried he’d get jealous, as he always was a little clingy, but Char actually seemed excited about the prospect of a little sibling and vowed to take care of them. They finally told the others when Quera did hatch. Baby Quera was a handful for DT and Char. They took after their moddy more than Char in the troublemaking department, and their favorite thing to do was biting Char (much to his dismay). However, there was one big difference between DT and Quera—despite how much DT loved the sound of their own voice, Quera rarely spoke at all. She just didn’t seem to like speaking very much and preferred to communicate non-verbally when she could. They found it odd at first, but learned how to understand her gestures and didn’t force her to talk when she didn’t want to. With the lack of speaking, her sensitivity to sounds and touch, and her stims, it became apparent early on that she was autistic, but that wasn’t a problem for their family. DT and Char did their part to understand Quera’s needs and how to keep them happy. As Quera got older, they developed a habit of picking on kids twice their size and starting fights with anyone who irritated them. Char did his best to discourage this and teach Quera to communicate her feelings better.

When they found out Quera merely had an interest in fighting, they channeled that with video games at first (which she LOVED), and then training and competitive fighting when she got a little older.

Char and Quera became very close, and Char does his all to take care of her and be there for her. He protects them when need be and helps DT with parenting duties. When Quera acts up, though, Char is quick to yell, “Moddy! Come get your child!” XD

Quera discovered they were agender when they were about 8. As they put it, “Pronouns are just words. They don’t define me. Call me whatever you want.” DT primarily uses they/them, and Char often uses they and she interchangeably.

As an adult, Quera forms a gang in the Crimson Waste and keeps it secret from everyone except DT, Catra, and Finn. Char eventually discovers it as well, and though he doesn’t condone crime (he’s become a hero at this point in time), he won’t snitch on family, and he even acts as her bodyguard every now and then. Besides, Quera doesn’t carry out violent crimes, only theft. She only fights when she needs to, and that’s usually when they encounter rival gangs.

While running their secret crime ring, Quera meets their girlfriend and makes her their right-hand-woman. They’re very much a chaotic crime lesbian duo, and DT loves that for them.

Quera’s weapon of choice is a metal staff that can retract to be travel-sized and has both the ability to cast spells (Quera knows sorcery) and the ability to destroy magic sigils (wouldn’t want to get trapped like their moddy did in season 4). Quera is also known for her strong punches. They’re a lot stronger than they look, though they are still a bit buff under that leather jacket. Though, adult Char looks stronger and scarier than she does, so if they’re in the same room, people mistakenly believe Char is the one they have to worry about. Quera enjoys the element of surprise, though.

Quera can shapeshift just as well as DT can, and Char never really gets to that level. Quera can also act, and they find it easier to talk when pretending to be someone else, but they don’t quite end up doing the same espionage game DT does and never become as good an actor as them. She does prove to have a lovely singing voice, but refuses to sing for anyone other than her loved ones.

———

Thank you for reading all that! As alway, if you want to know more about my OCs, feel free to ask! Or if you want to see more drawings or fanfics starring them!

[oraclekleo]

Most to Least Romantic Member of Xdinary Heroes - Oracle and Tarot Reading

Disclaimer:

All readings have purely entertainment nature

I don’t know any of the celebrities personally

Don’t base life decisions purely on tarot readings

I can never guarantee any of what’s said in the reading

Before requesting, read the pinned post and appropriate linked post

Tarot readings are my hobby - I’m not obligated to accept any of the requests nor to complete them, it’s my choice, not duty

Waiting time is long, even several months

If you can’t wait, please, seek other tarot reader

Reading Info:

Rating: 18+

Reading Type: Single - Couple

Requested: Yes - No

Requester: /

Deck: Elemental Oracle + Tarot of the Divine

Spread: MTL Oracle and Tarot Reading

Question: Most to Least Romantic Member of Xdinary Heroes

Subject Info:

Full Names:

Goo Gun Il

Kim Jung Su

Kwak Ji Seok

Oh Seung Min

Han Hyung Jun

Lee Joo Yeon

Stage Names:

Gunil

Jungsu

Gaon

O.de

Jun Han

Jooyeon

Group: Xdinary Heroes

DOBs:

24.07.1998

26.06.2001

14.01.2002

11.06.2002

18.08.2002

12.09.2002

Sun Signs:

Leo

Cancer

Capricorn

Gemini

Leo

Virgo

Chinese Signs:

Earth Tiger

Metal Snake

Metal Snake

Water Horse

Water Horse

Water Horse

Life Path Numbers:

4

8

1

3

3

7

Masterpost: (Under Construction)

Ko-fi - Voluntary Tip for Readings

Most to Least Romantic Member of Xdinary Heroes

Jun Han - 43 Magic, 6 of Wands

Jun Han is the most romantic member of Xdinary Heroes. Romance is really his thing, he’s at the top of his game there. He can make his lover swoon from his romantic gestures and acts of service. He’s the master of courtesy and seduction and every new romantic relationship is a reason for him to celebrate and reach the sky. Jun Han is a true Prince Charming when it comes to love. He can win the heart of anyone he desires like if he put a love spell on them. On the other hand, a breakup can be truly devastating for Jun Han, especially for his ego. He might feel very miserable about it and it takes him a good while to heal his self-esteem.

Jungsu - 32 Marine Life, 3 of Cups

Jungsu is the second most romantic member of Xdinary Heroes. He’s really a ray of sunshine when it comes to romance and he’s a playful romantic. He might not be the demon of lust but he’s a real companion to his lover. He’s not only their sweetheart but also a best friend. He literally takes on any role his lover is currently in need of. He’s supportive, caring and has original ideas on how to spend time together. He genuinely likes to include his lover into the circle of his friends and family, he will incorporate them into his life. Jungsu truly shows his affection to everyone. And that’s likely a reason for his breakups. He might be accused of cheating while he’s actually just really friendly and sweet to all people. Breakups leave him rather desperate and in tears for a while but because he surrounds himself with friends, he can overcome the hurt with their help.

Gunil - 28 Music, 10 of Coins

Gunil is in the middle when it comes to romance. He’s pretty mature when it comes to love affairs and he can truly sense what his lover needs well. But he’s also pretty realistic and pragmatic. He will treat his lover like a royalty but at the same time he will acknowledge their imperfections and opinions. He’s really a team player in romance and expects his lover to give as much as he does to the relationship. He’s not really good at wording his feelings but his steady and undying support is like a warm blanket his lover can hide in to escape the world. Gunil feels any breakup deeply but he’s not the type to cry over it. He learns the lesson and next time he will improve his approach.

Gaon - 26 Pressure, 0 The Fool

Gaon is close behind Gunil when it comes to romance. He approaches love and romance with curiosity and nearly scientifical passion. He’s open to anything but can become reckless and lose focus easily. Gaon might easily forget about birthdays and anniversaries and then be surprised by his lover being mad at him. He likes to be in love but it’s more like he’s enjoying the sensations rather than he would actually feel a connection with the person. Gaon isn’t the one to suffer much with the breakup as he’s really curious about what comes next in his life.

O.de - 17 Cave, 8 of Coins

O.de is the second least romantic member of Xdinary Heroes. For him, romance is labour foremost. He’s not really into it and when he tries to be romantic it feels forced and awkward for him. He knows he needs more practice but it’s not his current priority. He might give a cold and detached impression. His heart beats for the other person but he doesn’t know how to let them know and simply focuses on what he’s good at, which is work. Breakup is something he usually expects and he’s not really surprised or devastated by it. He takes it as it is, maybe spends some time alone to lick his wounds and then go back to work.

Jooyeon - 1 North, 7 of Swords

Jooyeon is the least romantic member of Xdinary Heroes. Not that he wouldn’t ever fall in love but he’s not likely to see it as his life’s purpose. He focuses on other things and can’t be bothered by romance. It’s also possible he’s had a bad experience with romantic relationships when he felt being manipulated through his feelings and used. Jooyeon is not likely to fall in love easily and he’s not likely to express his feelings openly. When he senses like the relationship is closing to its end, he will be the one to break up with his lover in order to avoid being jilted.

I don't know Xdinary Heroes at all so please, take this very lightly. I would truly appreciate your opinion on this piece.

Thank you for reading!

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[bf-skz]

24 to 25 days of SKZMAS | December 22nd - Felix

pairing: Lee Felix x Reader

genre: soulmates

synopsis: Felix breathes Christmas and as the holiday approaches he gets more and more excited each day. That is why it comes as no surprise that he becomes the leader of the Christmas party committee for his company, JY Publishing. His friend, unfortunately, doesn't have the same jolly experience and Felix is determined to fix it.

warnings: -

words: 704

22nd day of SKZMAS

December 22nd

Felix knows you've been avoiding him. He would be a fool to think otherwise; you live opposite each other, it's impossible that you haven't run into each other all week. If not on purpose, then by chance.

But no. He gets home to a quiet hallway, missing you and your occasional bear hugs when you get home earlier than him. He once waited around the corner, trying to catch you off-guard because he thought you figured out his schedule and that's how you could always tell when he got home. Then, he realized you always check when he gets home through the peephole. The past week was painfully uneventful, though.

And he misses you. Of course he does; ever since you first became best friends, about five years ago, you haven't spent more than a few days without each other. And even then, you always called the other, seeing how they were doing. This time, though, it is much worse than any family vacation that forced you apart. Because despite living literally a few meters apart, he knows you don't want anything  to do with him, and it breaks his heart every time he thinks about it.

He is unlocking his door, and is about to go inside when he hears metal sliding on metal, the quiet telltale of something he recognises only a moment later. He turns around to face your door.

“I know you're there.”

Reluctantly, you open the door being caught in the act. You missed him desperately but you know it's time to distance yourself from him, otherwise your feelings might never fade.

“I’m just getting food.” you admit shamelessly with a huge pout, locking your door behind you and turning your back on him.

“I have food.” he says simply, and why does it feel so awkward? Talking to you has never felt like this.

“I’m getting my own food.” you say stubbornly.

“Can we talk, lo- uhm.” he asks, swallowing the petname. “Please, can we talk?”

“I don't know. Are you going to coo at me like the little sibling I am?” you spat back angrily.

“That's not- that was such a stupid thing to say!” Felix says, almost whines because he will never ever forgive himself for that. “I was just trying to express how precious you are to me and my brain just, just farted out those words, okay?”

“You know, I still didn't hear your apology.” you fold your arms on your chest while lifting your nose in the air.

“I- okay. I am so sorry, alright? I am an idiot and I understand if you want nothing to do with me.” Felix says, and before he could change his mind, he goes on. “But you are truly the best thing that has ever happened to me and I can't believe I have been such a coward so far but I- I have feelings for you.”

You freeze. The last thing you expected Felix to do was to impromptu confess his feelings for you. And you find it hard to believe.

“What kind of feelings?” you ask, your voice three pitches higher than usual.

“The… the love kinda feelings.” Felix says and he chuckles. “I love you. Actually, I think I'm in love with you.”

“Felix…” you whisper softly and a beat later you run to him and jump into his arms. “I love you! Like love love!” you exclaim happily, heart about to burst out of your chest.

“Oh, thank god.” he sighs and holds you close, kissing into your hair. “I was so afraid I would lose you… I don't think I could take that.”

“You will never lose me, silly.” you chuckle, snuggling into his warmth. “In fact you won't be able to get rid of me!”

“That sounds like the best time ever.” he says with a wide smile as he caresses your hair. “And just so you know, we are going to the company party. You deserve to see it in full motion. And, well, I really want to show you off.”

“Oh my god!” you gasps, your eyes lighting up. “We have to go shopping then!” you take his hand in yours.

“Anything for you, my love.”

to be continued...