#normalize insanity

[lntrusiveknock]

did i normalize my insanity or do i just find that when im alone is when we become most truthful and honest,, and i find that insanity is not so insane really i like solitude

[drulalovescas]

I don't know what's funnier. that jack looks like dean and cas' love child. or that jack's jacket looks like dean's shirt and cas' trenchcoat love child

[lilacxquartz]

love you, love you, love you;

mr. crawling x reader

plot: some things are best expressed without the need of words — themes: spooning/cuddling, smut, maybe yan vibes — w.c: 1.1k

a/n: my first homicipher related fic. i want to try one for mr. silvair & mr. gap next, bc they were also my favs. this game has been taking over my life so much lately. like it’s been in my dreams, haaah.

masterlist • ao3

Mr. Crawling was always loud when he was excited within your company; his laughter filled out the vast empty spaces that were otherwise unadorned with familiarity. Whatever you once sought from those winding corridors was ever-fleeting, temporary, leaving you stuck within the confines of his company.

Yet, when he felt what you could only interpret as affection—that’s when Mr. Crawling then became different—quiet, soothing, kind but also… curious.

And when you would usually sleep, he would stand watch, knelt over the floor as per his usual stance but sometimes crouched near you, sometimes leaning back against the wall with his legs pressed up against his chest. He would watch you as his life depended on it, unwavering in focus and with eerie intensity. He would watch as your chest rose and fell, leaning close on occasion to catch the sweep of your breath and sometimes, he would trace the pad of his milky fingertips in long, languid strokes against your face. Always so delicate, so tender, but for the most part, quiet and even shy.

Having once caught a glimpse of Mr. Gap in your blanket space, however, set something territorial off for Mr. Crawling and he was never able to recover from such an invasion. The very idea that someone else was able to infiltrate what he deemed to be your space—especially someone who he disapproved of—wasn’t something he could stand for. Especially with the sort of trickster Mr. Gap was, he couldn’t bear to see you get hurt. It would kill him on the inside (and on the outside, too).

So, just as you were getting into bed to rest up once more, he too, slipped in under the covers with you. At first, you were startled as usual, turning to face him with confusion evident in your eyes, murmuring out some words in a language that he still could not understand. He repeated something back, the meaning lost and indecipherable upon your ears, though soon surrendering to emphasis using gestures instead. A hug to bring you closer, a reassuring pat on your head and a small, longing kiss over your nose.

You listened to his words again, repeating over and over like a broken record.

Perhaps he meant no harm, after all.

You turned your back to him and settled into his chest, finding that he was surprisingly warm for what he was. His taller frame encased your body, wrapping his ashen arms around your waist—accidentally brushing the fabric that sat over your breast—nicking the cloth ever so slightly. Your breath hitched in surprise and as though in sheepish realisation, he withdrew right away, terrified that you were upset with him.

You drew out a long breath, reminding yourself again, that after everything that has happened thus far…

That, Mr. Crawling does not want to hurt you.

That Mr. Crawling has only ever helped you.

So perhaps, right now, Mr. Crawling only wanted to be closer to you.

You relaxed your breathing, settling into his comforting shadow once more and allowed for his presence to envelop you. He repeated the soothing motions of his grappling arm, although he held onto you softer that time. His hands explored your body with a delicate touch, as though afraid of breaking you—of upsetting you again—his motions growing confident the longer that you didn’t protest. It wasn’t long before he, otherwise not disturbed by your lacking, conscious awareness, decided to explore further with you. Mr. Crawling’s fingers didn’t ask for permission that time, creeping beneath the clinging fabric, feeling your skin against his palms, inviting a pleased, almost delighted smile to curl on his lips.

The silence remained unbroken as Mr. Crawling continued his explorative focus on you; the quickly-building evidence of his need growing harder the longer he pushed himself behind your body, the repeated touches arousing something warmer within him. To both his surprise as well as your own—you were not repulsed, allowing him to creep even lower, below the skirt of the dress and up, brushing his hand up to your exposed skin and, reading into it—you communicated your consent from the moment you parted your legs, allowing him to get even closer.

Confidence surged in Mr. Crawling as he pushed himself into your hilt, allowing his hardened length to slip inside. Betraying the stagnant silence, he shuddered out a ragged gasp before giving into his own rising need; grinding himself into your sopping sex with steadily increasing fervour. His fingers clamped around the curve of your hips as he held you in place, slamming every last inch of himself deep into your core.

Ever touch-starved yet wanting nothing more than to surrender to the sensation of you, Mr. Crawling continued to drive his cock into your needy cunt, soon wrapping his winding arms around your body and holding on tight. He bucked intensely as you soon succumbed to breathless whimpers, incoherently begging for his name. Equally desperate whines rolled off the slip of his tongue as he found his lips pressed into the crook of your neck, dampening your skin with sloppy wet kisses—as many as he could give.

It felt overwhelming for you in a way to be worshipped like this but you did your best to keep up with such intensity, especially as the warm, tingling pleasure built up inside of you, too. You held on just as tight as he did, your hand seeking out his own—fingers weaving into his bony digits—interlocking and squeezing tight the closer you got, your grip and otherwise clenching need tightening simultaneously. To feel him losing himself inside of you was dare you admit, addicting, feeling him completely fill and stretch you out leaving you almost dizzied from the impaling force.

Mr. Crawling, like you, soon surrendered to the rolling bliss from the flick of his hips, feeling a surging warmth mount and rise, encouraging him to lose himself to the searing heat of the moment and you. Encircling your body in a possessive hug, he suddenly began to mutter out a new word in a strained mantra, again and again.

Given how desperate he seemed to be, you understood the meaning as ‘close’, especially as his actions grew more strained and less controlled.

“Close, close, close,” he repeated.

It didn’t take his chased release to catch up as his hips grew to a stutter, rutting out one final pump before melting into you. Mr. Crawling cried into your neck, spilling out the entirety of his overflowing love, feeling the pent-up devotion trickle down your thighs—yet not letting you move away—still retaining his claim on you.

Instead, he kept you even closer than before, not allowing you to part from him ever again (despite understanding your yearning for rest).

Words were never the problem, it seemed.

Mr. Crawling would have always found a way to… connect with you.

[wlwanakin]

at the end of the day when it comes to padmé i think it’s really important to remember that her closest friends are literally her employees. her only other friends are her coworkers. her closest friend for years was a girl she met at 14 whose job it was to pretend to be her and potentially die about it. another friend with the same job died in her arms while pretending to be her. she does not have friends outside of her squad of employees who pretend to be her and sometimes die about it and then her politician coworkers. too many of you are way too surprised that this woman is not normal about love or relationships or her own self considering all this

[lastoneout]

Actually am still kinda pissed that my fiancé's psychatrist evaluated him for anxiety and said he didn't have it but then was like "in the future I'd like to see you make enough progress with your anxiety that you feel comfortable taking your mask(N95 not neurodivergent mask) off" and didn't seem to care when he explained that his fiancé(me) has several severe chronic illnesses and immune issues so we both do what we can to ensure I don't get sick with any illness, not just covid. Like does he have anxiety or not?? You can't have it both ways buddy!! And like it or not protecting a vulnerable person from getting sick is logical, YOU'RE the one being irrational here.

Like this is why I get pissed about mask(N95) stuff, people have legit fallen into some kind of thought-terminating cliché about covid and all other contagious diseases not being a problem anymore to the point that they think even sick people and their loved ones taking reasonable precautions to protect their health is a sign of anxiety and paranoia. I truly do not get it. Like it's one thing if you personally don't want to wear a mask(N95) but at least leave people who do alone, but legit acting like people like me are insane for doing something that makes perfect sense is turning me into the Joker. It doesn't even work to say "oh I have asthma and allergies and the air quality is bad today" or "I'm having an important surgery soon and need to make sure I don't get sick" like they think wearing a mask(N95) AT ALL in any circumstance for any reason means you've legit lost your mind.

I genuinely feel like the government suddenly started hiding all the national car crash statistics and insisted in tons of press conferences that crashing your car is actually perfectly fine and not a big deal at all and wearing a seatbelt isn't something healthy people need to worry about, so now everyone thinks it's silly to wear one and every time I do I have to deal with people implying or outright stating that I'm legitimately mentally ill and need an intervention.

[freitag1607]

1.05 / Battle of the Labyrinth

[mishaesque]

my issue is that just rewatching Supernatural isn’t enough. It takes too long. I want it all at once. I need a room covered in 327 monitors that feed me every single episode at the same time. I need the DVDs melted down and put into an IV drip. I want every single minute of the show tattooed on the inside of my eyelids. I need to live inside its flesh.

[wr0wn]

sick leave

[anbaisai]

Couldn't unsee Aira's hair as literally pink Azul hair so I had to make this once episode 10 of Dandadan dropped

[sketchytea]

"Whatever awaits us, my lady, I know only one thing--I would never have you face it alone."

[nuno-draws]

Blessed Be Those Who Listen

[beaulesbian]

peak romance

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

i feel like when people say "katsuki won't change for you" they mean it like, completely and literally. but tbh i really really don't see it like that.

like yeah, he will never change his personality for anybody. he's still him because if you liked him romantically you'd already know what he's like. but he'd most definitely change his behaviour towards you. ofc im not trynna say he's gonna like do a whole 180 and kiss the ground you walk n shit but like..you're still his partner,, does that make sense ?? like it always confuses me when ppl say stuff like " he wont give you any special treatment he'll treat you like he treats everyone" and to me its like..no.., y'know ?😭 like at the end of the day you are still his partner. you're dating and he loves you so why would he treat you like some rando.

at most i see him like being awkward at the beginning of the relationship when its still new cus he doesnt know what to do (lol loser) but i still know he'd very much try. cus thats the thing youre not just a random you're his person. you're his one and he's obv gonna show you that because otherwise whats the point

m not sayin he's perfect, he's gonna mess up at some points maybe be a bit snappy because that's just how he is and you know that, you knew that when you got with him. BUT you still love him and he still very much loves you and he shows you that and he tries to make it up to you because you're different and he CARESSS!!! thats my whole thing!!!

[worldsfirstgayknife]

noooobody look at me

[thedoncasterk3]

I am genuinely still so floored and amazed that project sekai actually went through with making mizuki transfem, like holy shit how much other larger-scale media can you remember actually commiting to something like this instead of just coding a character?

Genuinely down to the reveal where the other students talk about her not being a "normal girl" and asking Ena if "she's a boy too", down to mizuki's utter horror of being outed to her friends by someone else, down to mizuki not being worried about their acceptance but rather being utterly terrified of how they might never treat her the same as they used to, of how they'd step on eggshells around her, IT'S SO FUCKING PEAKKKK-

ALSO THIS WAS AFTER 4 YEARS OF BUILDING UP TO THIS POINT TOO (i haven't been here that long BUT STILL)

Genuine congrats to colorfulpalette for committing to this because holy shit this will live in my head rent-free for a WHILE to come.

ALSO THE VOICE ACTING I'VE SEEN FROM CLIPS??? I knew Hinata Sato shines as Junna in Revue Starlight but she went above and beyond for this, and Minori Suzuki also went absolutely crazy with her voicing, Ena screaming Mizuki's name to try to get her to stop after she runs the second time is the most emotion i've seen someone put into a voice in a while LOOK AT THIS.

sidenote: mizuki akiyama is probably my favorite character ever now i think