#not because he necessarily knows any of that but because he questions this world this setup etc. more than the other siblings (at least tha

[lgbtlunaverse]

I've seen a good number of people ask a question along the lines of "why do characters like Falin and hate Laios when they're so similar?" and i've also seen good analysis on the differences in how the touden siblings carry themselves that would, despite their shared traits, make a person gravitate to one more than the other.

But i feel like we've overseen one very central thing here.

People don't like Falin

Like... the average person in dungeon meshi doesn't like Falin. She was deeply ostrasized by her home village, in magic school she had zero friends before Marcille and the others generally saw her as strange and a bit offputting.

Characters like Namari and Chilchuck like her well enough but not necessarily more than any other member of their party, including Laios. Neither Kabru nor his party think much of her. The canaries don't give a fuck about her. Toshiro's retainers don't see her as anything else than the weird foreign girl their boss has a crush on.

The reason we think everyone loves Falin is because, despite all the indifferent side characters, the 2 most important and central characters of the story are Laios and Marcille. Who are NOT representative of the average attitudes to Falin! But necromancy georg number 1 and 2 are our main eyes into the story and they love Falin so much that it colours our perspective of the whole world.

The only side character who qualifies as liking Falin and not Laios is Toshiro (at least at first, as he ends the story on much better terms with Laios) and that says a lot about his character, with him drifting to the quiet Falin precisely because of her oddness but being both uncomfortable with and deeply jealous of Laios' much more open expression of that oddness. Because he's a repressed guy from a culture where etiquette is incredibly important.

But like I said, that's a specific aspect of him, not to the world at large.

Because there's also people that click more with laios than with Falin.

Kabru, for one, who is initially distrustful of laios but clearly also deeply fascinated by him and drawn to him.

Minor spoilers, and you don't have to read too deeply into this, because I don't think Kabru particularly dislikes Falin or anything. But it's interesting that when he talks about his distrust of the toudens in ch.32 he's talking about them both. But his big friendship declaration in chapter 76 is aimed squarely at Laios, he doesn't say "you and your sister" he says "you"

And Senshi!! He instantly clicks with Laios, well before he does so with anyone else in the party– who he also becomes friends with, it just takes a bit longer– specifically because they bond over their shared special interest in monsters!! Senshi is kind towards Falin and cares for her wellbeing, but he also... doesn't know her. The reason he is even here, helping to save her, is because he and Laios bonded over monsters and he wants to help his new friends out!

Of course, the theme of neurodivergent isolation is very present in Laios' story. I'm not denying that. He does turn people off, without meaning to and unable to fully understand why! But so does Falin. And just like there are people who like her despite of or even because of those traits, there are people who do the same with him.

In conclusion: "Average person loves Falin and hates Laios" factoid actually statistical error. Average person is neutral on both Falin and Laios. Georcille, Laiorg and Geoshiro, who live in the dungeon and think over 10,000 Falin-loving thoughts a day, are statistical outliers adn should not have been counted.

[jankillbride]

i feel like jason todd would take a lot out of the brothers karamazov is all i'm saying

[satellite-evans]

you don't have to be sorry

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Summary: Harry learns why you refuse to let him pay, uncovering your painful past.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: past abusive relationship, little angst, fluff

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Harry had always found joy in giving. Growing up, even when he didn’t have much, he’d learned that the look on someone’s face when you did something kind for them was worth more than anything money could buy. That lesson had carried over into his adult life, especially once his career took off and his world expanded in ways he’d never anticipated. He loved surprising his family with impromptu vacations, treating his friends to dinners just because, and going the extra mile to make everyone around him feel cared for.

When he met you, he found himself wanting to do those little things even more. Your smile was infectious, your laugh a melody he didn’t know he’d been missing until you came along. You were so strong, so independent, and it only made him more drawn to you, your kindness, and your spirit. From early on, he’d noticed that you carried yourself with an ease that spoke of someone who’d learned to take care of themselves, and he admired it. You were thoughtful, always prepared, and fiercely capable of handling things on your own.

Still, that didn’t stop Harry from wanting to treat you. From the beginning, he’d try to pick up the tab here and there, take you out for meals he knew you’d love, or surprise you with little things—your favorite flowers, a new book he thought you might enjoy. But each time he tried, you’d flash that polite, unwavering smile and insist on paying your own way. It wasn’t just a gesture, either. It was firm, unyielding, and Harry quickly learned that it was one boundary you weren’t willing to compromise.

He brushed it off at first, thinking maybe it was just the way you were. And in a way, he appreciated your independence. He knew you’d never take advantage of his generosity, and that was part of what made him feel so strongly for you. But as time went on, he couldn’t help but notice the subtle ways you’d tense up when he offered to pay, how your expression would harden slightly when he’d suggest covering the check. It was almost as if his offers triggered something in you, something you seemed determined to hide but couldn’t fully suppress.

And so, he kept quiet, telling himself not to pry, to respect your independence. Yet, as the months went on, he found that it bothered him more than he wanted to admit. It wasn’t that he wanted to be the one to pay, necessarily—it was that he wanted to feel like he could express his love without it feeling like a violation. He wanted you to feel comfortable enough to let him in, to let him care for you in a way that didn’t make you feel trapped.

One evening in late autumn, he planned a special dinner. The two of you had been talking about going to this small bistro on the outskirts of town for a while. It was an intimate spot with candle-lit tables and soft jazz playing in the background, and Harry knew you’d love it. The idea of spending a quiet, meaningful night there with you had stayed on his mind for weeks.

The evening was perfect. The glow from the restaurant’s lanterns bathed the room in a warm, amber light, casting a soft radiance on your face that made you look even more beautiful than usual. Your laughter floated through the air as you both shared stories and exchanged glances, and Harry felt the gentle comfort of being in your presence, something he’d come to treasure more than he’d ever thought possible.

When the bill finally arrived, he reached for it out of habit, ready to do what he’d long hoped to: treat you to something special, just because he wanted to. But, as always, you beat him to it, your card already in hand, that same polite but unwavering determination in your eyes.

“Please, love,” he murmured, placing a hand gently over yours before you could hand the card to the waiter. “Let me take care of this one, alright?”

Your smile faltered just for a second, and he saw a flicker of something in your eyes—something that didn’t quite match the confident independence you usually displayed. It was a look of hesitation, one that seemed out of place for you, and Harry couldn’t ignore it any longer. The moment was brief, gone as quickly as it came, but it was enough to stir his concern.

As the two of you walked out of the restaurant, Harry held your hand, feeling the cool night breeze brush against your skin as you strolled down the quiet, lamp-lit street. His mind was still on that moment at the table, the look in your eyes that hinted at something more, something you’d been keeping from him.

He stopped walking, gently pulling you to a halt beside him, his fingers still laced with yours as he looked down at you, his eyes soft and filled with a quiet concern.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, his voice low, careful. “I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfortable, but… why don’t you ever let me pay? I know you’re independent, and I love that about you. But… it feels like there’s something more to it. Like you’re keeping something from me.”

You met his gaze for a moment, but quickly looked away, shifting under the weight of his words. He could see a hint of tension in your shoulders, the way your hand tightened slightly around his, as if you were bracing yourself against an invisible force.

“It’s… it’s not about you, Harry,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I hope you know that. This is just… it’s something I’ve had to do for myself.”

He nodded, encouraging you to continue without saying a word. He could see you struggling to find the right words, the weight of something unspoken pressing down on you, as if the memories you carried were too painful to release.

“My last relationship was… it was complicated,” you finally said, your voice wavering slightly. “My ex… he was controlling. It wasn’t like this—it wasn’t done out of kindness, or love. It was… it was about power.”

Harry felt his heart sink as he watched you, his own feelings of helplessness swelling inside him as he realized just how deeply those past experiences had affected you. His fingers tightened around yours, as if to ground you, to remind you that he was there, listening.

“He… wouldn’t let me pay for anything either,” you continued, your gaze distant as if you were looking back at a memory you’d tried to bury. “He wouldn’t let me work. He’d tell me it was because he wanted to take care of me, but it was… it was more than that. He made sure I depended on him for everything. And whenever I used his money, he’d remind me that I wouldn’t have anything without him.”

You swallowed hard, the pain in your eyes raw, the vulnerability in your expression stark against the mask of strength you usually wore.

“It was like… like every time I let him pay, he took a piece of me with it. I felt like I was losing myself, one little piece at a time.”

Harry felt a swell of emotions surge through him, a mix of anger, sorrow, and helplessness. He hated the thought of you going through that, hated the idea that someone had taken advantage of your trust, had tried to mold you into something you weren’t. The thought of someone treating you that way filled him with a protective instinct he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Oh, love,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he reached up, gently brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you went through that. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

The warmth of his hand against your cheek was grounding, soothing, a reminder of the safety you felt with him—a safety that was new, unfamiliar, and terrifying in its own way. You looked up at him, feeling the walls you’d carefully built around yourself begin to crumble, the armor you’d worn to protect yourself falling away under the gentle strength of his gaze.

“I didn’t want to feel that way again,” you murmured, your voice barely more than a breath. “When I finally left, I promised myself I’d be independent, that I’d never let anyone have that kind of power over me again. I didn’t want to feel… trapped.”

Harry listened, his heart breaking for the pain you’d carried alone for so long. He wanted nothing more than to reach into those memories and erase every moment of hurt, to go back and shield you from the scars that man had left behind. But he knew he couldn’t change the past. All he could do was be here, fully and completely, for you now.

He pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in a warm, protective embrace, as if his presence could somehow shelter you from every painful memory, every scar that still lingered. You felt yourself relax in his hold, the tension in your body melting away as you allowed yourself to simply be, to feel safe, without fear.

He held you for what felt like an eternity, his hand gently rubbing your back in slow, comforting circles. Finally, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still resting on your shoulders, his gaze filled with a tenderness that took your breath away.

" I'm sorry." You said in a whisper, almost unhearable to him. Almost.

“ Oh lovie. I’m here for you,” he said softly, his voice a gentle promise. “You don’t have to carry this alone. You don't have to be sorry. I’ll never make you feel that way, I promise. You’re safe with me.”

The sincerity in his words touched something deep within you, and for the first time, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could let go of the past. You took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders as you allowed yourself to lean into his warmth, to trust in the quiet strength of his presence.

“Thank you, Harry,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of gratitude and relief. “I don’t think you know how much this means to me.”

He smiled, brushing a gentle kiss to your forehead as he took your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as you continued your walk down the quiet street. The world around you felt different somehow, softer, brighter, as if the warmth of his love had transformed the cold night into something beautiful.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Harry glanced at you with a playful grin. “You know, I was thinking… if you keep insisting on paying for everything, I might just have to start charging you a fee for dating me.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh really? And what would that fee be?”

“Let’s see… one home-cooked dinner a month, plus unlimited cuddle time, and maybe a few spontaneous trips to the ice cream shop,” he replied, feigning seriousness with a cheeky smile.

“Sounds like a bargain, but you might want to raise your rates. I’m a high-maintenance girlfriend,” you shot back, a playful glint in your eye.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “High-maintenance? lovie, I don’t know if I can handle that kind of pressure.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll throw in a free consultation on how to keep your wallet healthy. You know, just in case you want to save up for our future yacht,” you teased, your tone light.

“Ah, yes! The yacht. I’ll need a solid financial plan for that one,” he said, nodding dramatically. “Maybe we should just start a joint account: ‘Harry and Y/N’s Fund for Epic Adventures.’”

“Only if I get to choose the adventures,” you countered with a grin.

“Deal! Just promise me one thing,” he said, suddenly serious.

“What’s that?” you asked.

“Promise you’ll never stop being you—independent, sassy, and always ready to take the lead when it comes to dinner bills,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

You laughed, feeling your heart swell. “Oh, I won’t! But fair warning: you’ll always be my favourite plus-one, even if you are a bit of a freeloader.”

He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Freeloader? I’ll have you know, I bring a lot to this relationship—like charm, good looks, and the occasional serenade!”

“Okay, you’ve got a point there,” you conceded, shaking your head with a laugh. “But just wait until I hit the jackpot. You won’t know what hit you when I start treating you!”

With laughter and lightness in the air, you both continued your walk, the future feeling bright and filled with promise, all while playfully nudging each other along the way.

[vigilskeep]

as a big fan of you Viago Posting I gotta ask, how do you think Viago feels/reacts to the news of Rook de Riva romancing each of the various companions? I feel like the guy would absolutely have Opinions on all of them lol

i keep receiving asks addressed like this as though i am some kind of Viago Whisperer, which i find both funny and an intimidating task. nevertheless i shall do my best.

i don’t think he would react well to any of the options here, but that’s not necessarily damning, because viago does not react well to basically anything. roughly in order from Least Viago Stress to Most Viago Stress:

1) emmrich seems, in banters with lucanis, to have been emboldened by lucanis’ confirmation that viago posssesses a rosseletto painting and gone on to actually discuss art with viago himself. (lucanis later lets emmrich know from viago that a painting he ordered for vorgoth’s benefit has come in.) emmrich is a man of culture with a very respectable necrotic damage specialisation. he comes from a politically powerful organisation that can defend itself, yet is not personally ambitious in a way likely to drag house de riva into trouble or use rook for his own ends. sure i think viago would make a little fuss about the age gap because he’s judgemental like that but i don’t think there would be much passion behind it

2) bellara’s bubbling questions and excitable nature would be personally a bit startling and maybe slightly grating to viago but i’m keeping her pretty high up because i think lucanis is right and that viago would eat up her knowledge about taste profiles for his usual Nefarious Purposes. once he realises she genuinely is asking questions about house de riva proprietary poisoning tactics for writing research, of all things, i think we can get these fantasy scientists chatting and then she’d charm him against his will.

3) taash’s general bluntness would startle viago even more. their interactions would be pretty hysterical, because taash is so straightforward and viago is so paranoid, and i think viago would leave all of them confused and slightly intimidated. if you send taash with the crows in the final battle, they and teia have a cute interaction about taash getting honorary crow rights, as a conclusion to lucanis and taash’s banters. so this has Teia Approval, which causes viago grumbling but does have a positive viago effect overall. the lords of fortune are friendly with the crows so i don’t think there are major occupational objections here

4) harding is an inquisition agent, which i think viago probably has both condescending and paranoid opinions about. i.e., the inquisition are a small band of fading influence but they also have a history of insane power grabs out of nowhere. neither of which are exactly what you want your protege to marry into. her inability to cook suggests very little skillset bonding. she’s an ordinary farm girl from ferelden and viago’s an antivan elitist so no discussion of their relative backgrounds is going to go very well. HOWEVER, there are saving graces here. she’s a rogue, which is the viago equivalent of dating someone who’s made good career choices. they briefly worked together in the comics with no issues and happily shook hands at the end. he would find her powers conceptually interesting. she’s the type of person to make an effort with in-laws. (hysterical image of her somehow getting viago to her ma’s house for a family gathering. his spindly legs not fitting under the dwarven table. him testing the world’s most earnest fereldan soup for poison. endless potential here.)

5) neve is a detective. viago is a poisoner and rook is his assassin. these are not particularly compatible life paths and i believe viago would point this out with increasing volume as nobody else seems to take issue with it. her canonical willingness to work with the crows would mollify him a bit. every other aspect of her life would not. maybe avoid her mentioning that she lives in a dock town apartment and makes no money because she’s too busy picking fights against impossible odds out of the goodness of her heart? like just don’t bring that up over dinner.

6) davrin made life choices against his own clan’s wishes, greatly approves when you knock his boss out cold, and has zero respect for the crows. davrin does not want viago’s approval. davrin cannot even pretend to want viago’s approval. viago thinks he has the right to be insulted. let alone the insult of his protege ending up with someone with the zero lifetime prospects of a grey warden monster hunter. does rook even know what happened the last time a crow lost their head over a warden? perhaps rook would like the crows to bury as many fifth talons as they did eighth talons! <- said in increasingly hysterical tones, as teia pats him on the back comfortingly while giving rook a thumbs up for picking out a handsome one

7) viago’s fairly sure you’re publicly dating the first talon because you want him personally in an early grave

[jungwondazed]

18+ only. / desperate passionate sex with jungwon

he comes onto you in the middle of the night, catching you off guard as you were just about to fall asleep.

"j-jungwon i don't- understand" you breathe out the words in between the breaks he pulls from your lips, leaning back in to kiss you harder than the previous.

there are moments, not often, when he gets this way and it is something you ponder every time he works his mouth deep into yours. he kisses you like it was the first time, the last time. jungwon is making out like he has something to confess, that there's too much on his mind to speak in words, that giving it to you like this is the best way for him to say anything.

you kiss him back regardless of the questions racing through your head. this isn't a kiss he initiates because he was simply turned on, there was a certain desperation behind his movements that makes you lean into his body, to connect with him in the way he needs.

his moans are long, drawn out, as if there was nothing else that mattered in the world but the pleasure you two share with each other.

with his mouth still attached to yours he pulls off your thin pajama set, lips slowly working down your neck, to your collarbones, and then your chest. your head falls back from the overwhelming sensation of his warm and soft tongue, fingers digging in his hair, pulling at it gently as he stimulates your entire body.

you know jungwon a bit too well. when he's horny, he initiates sex in his snarky teasing manner that always has you high and bothered. but when you find yourself tending to his needs, softening your touches, letting him have at you as a natural reaction to his desperation, you're more than aware that the sex he wants is far from just the physicality, jungwon was craving for a deep emotional connection and sometimes this was the best he could go about it.

he comes off confident, carrying himself like he had it all figured out. but throughout your time with him, you've learned that there is a small part deep down that seeks for validation and comfort, searching in places he can't necessarily figure out himself.

he breaks the kiss to peel his thin white sleep shirt off, immediately finding your lips again when he tosses it to the side. he wraps his arm under your waist to press your stomach close to his, pulling off his pajama bottoms and lining himself into you. you gasp as he sinks in slow, struggling a whine that's stuck between his throat and mouth.

jungwon's moans are full of longing and desperation, and your heart aches feeling him so troubled from such desire.

"i'm r-right h-here, jungwon" you whimper out between his thrusts, and he groans into your neck as a response.

"i'm yours, however y-you want me."

he fits good inside you, it's hard to form the right words to tell him how you truly feel. but despite your poor articulation of emotions to words, he reacts in a way that lets you know he's taking in everything you're saying and doing. he thrusts into you deeper and harder, bringing both his arms to wrap around your entire body, holding you so tight as if any less of a grip would have your falling right through his fingers, as if he was too capable of losing you.

[munsonsreputation]

yours

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: [2.9K]

warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, established-ish relationship, eddie feeling like he's not good enough, mentions of financial difficulties, overall fluff goodness!!! loosely based off "i wanna be yours" by the arctic monkeys

summary: eddie's down bad for you and all he wants to be is yours — you thought he already was.

It should feel pathetic, the way Eddie dropped everything in a heartbeat and came dashing to you the moment you called out his name, but to him it was the greatest honor for your mouth to even utter his name — he’d simply come crawling if you’d ask.

“Eds,” nickname made him go weaker for you.

Your voice was a small whisper and your hand grazed shakily upon his forearm, giving it a tender squeeze as you leaned in closer just enough for your breath the dance over his earlobe. His opposite hand didn’t falter, binding around to rest on the small of your back staying there to keep you steady in the cramped position.

“S’the matter, sweets?” He murmured loud enough for you to hear over the music of the party, brows pinching together, watching you intently.

He felt you pinch his skin again, your thumb and forefinger rubbing over the area apologetically, as you met his eyes, “C-could you come with me outside? Just need some fresh air and I don’t want to go alone.” Your voice was almost saturated with regret for feeling like such a hassle.

But Eddie didn’t want you to go alone, anyway.

It was a friend of a friend’s house party on the other side of town with plenty of people that you and him didn’t necessarily know too well. Honestly, you didn’t even have to ask. You could’ve just walked right up and grabbed him by the hand and dragged him out the front door and he wouldn’t have asked any questions.

But the way you ask him as if he’d ever say no made his heart melt because clearly you didn’t quite know how head over heels he was for you already.

There wasn’t much to it after that. Eddie simply gave your back a small pat and begun to stand up from his seat, letting his arm wrap across your shoulders as he maneuvered the both of you through the sea of bodies.

“Thanks.” You smiled tenderly up at him through the walk, encasing your hands around his biceps and following his lead out the front door that was propped wide open.

Eddie knew you like the back of your hand, the way your senses tended to get overstimulated when the music was too loud, chatter was too chattery, and the footsteps too heavy — he knew all of those things and he never minded that he was painstakingly aware because he wanted to be when it came to you.

These days, your comfort meant more to him than anything in the world. Tonight, it was an overload, and he wanted to curse himself for not noticing sooner.

It didn’t happen all the time, but occasionally you just needed a minute away, far away where those things couldn’t be heard at all. You didn’t even have to ask him to walk with you a few blocks down in the neighborhood to get away from hearing the thump of the party. He just continued on, letting you cling to him as he gave your shoulders a squeeze every so often to silently ask you if it was all better now.

It was always better when it was just you and Eddie.

“Sorry, it was just so loud.” You exhaled shakily, untying your arms from his muscles and instead hugging yourself to his torso, breathing him in — letting him fill your senses.

He found it heartening that you gravitated to him like that no matter where you were. Eddie was like your giant portable teddy bear, always near and ready for you to jump into his arms. His chin rested on the top of your head, draping his arms over your back and pulling you closer — the closest he can get you to keep you here and warm.

“S’okay, you don’t have to apologize, baby.” His voice was soothing and ironing out any worries that lingered.

“But you were talking to Rick then I—”

You could feel his head rock against you, a puff of air exiting his mouth with a deep breath. “You didn’t do anything. Just stupid talk anyway. You know I’d drop anything for you.”

The emphasis on ‘you’ was endearing because you felt the exact same way for Eddie. The urgency to be at his side whenever he needed you and even when he didn’t say it, you can feel it in your bones, because in soul you just knew.

“I know.” You said, dragging your face away from his chest to beam up at him, tiptoeing to press a kiss under his jaw before setting back into him.

He could still feel your lips on his skin, a sort of electrifying touch that should have had him running because it had to be too good to be true, yet all he wanted was more but only if it was you. Whether it was here on a shadowy sidewalk or maybe at the Hideout after one of his shows, and the end of the night and the start of the day, it could only be you and him.

All he ever wanted now was it for you both to be where you belonged — always in each other’s arms.

“Wanna go home?” He crooned, sliding a delicate hand through the ends of your hair careful not to let his rings catch.

You pressed another kiss this time to the center of his clothed chest, gawking up at him. “Do you?” You sought putting himself first instead of your own — good thing Eddie could read you like a book.

He grinned, cheeks tugging his knowing smiling impossibly wider. “Yeah, I do.”

He led you to his van, shrugging off his leather jacket and dressing it over your body as you settled into the passenger seat. You often got cold on late night drives and felt bad for asking to turn down the air conditioning so in order to comprise, though he never minded, whatever jacket he was sporting always ended up acting as a blanket until you got home and he could he yours.

“Feeling warmer?” Eddie chuckled, darting quickly from the road to your body that was curled up in the seat.

You nodded with a hum, bringing the sleeve of his jacket away from your face. “Better, but I really wanna take a hot shower when we get home.”

He let out a sound of agreement, reaching over for the air conditioning vents closer to you and flipping them up so less of the cold air was directed in your direction. It was a pure act, one that you picked up all the time even when you promised you were okay — part of you liked to think he had spidey-senses and could feel the shivers you tried to hide from him.

He could feel everything without you saying a word, a kind of connection you never thought was possible in this lifetime.

“Gonna do an everything shower tonight?” He asked with a glint of humor in his voice.

He was familiar with your ‘everything’ showers: full body exfoliations, deep conditioning, hair masks, the whole shebang. Eddie was more than happy to sit outside the shower, keeping you company for the next hour that used up all the hot water.

Truth be told, he subjected to everything showers at least once a month — when he was all burnt out from work and just wanted to relax, you’d fill the bath up with epsom salts, sit on the ledge of the tub as you shampooed his hair, and the both of you would talk until the water turned cold.

You giggled, shaking your head tiredly at him. “Not today. I’m too tired. We can shower together if you want? I like it better when you wash my hair.”

Who was he to turn that down?

“My pleasure, doll.”

Home was Eddie’s and his uncle Wayne’s shared trailer — it was your favorite place to be, despite what Eddie thought of the quaint space. It had an even smaller bathroom, but you didn’t care, pleased that it gave you the excuse to be closer to him in the most intimate way.

He always let you stand directly in the stream, letting the hot water cascade over your naked body while he received the backsplash of the droplets against his cool skin. His fingers worked through your scalp, the chunky rings shed for the time being, allowing him to be more firm in his movements, getting your scalp nice and clean.

You were humming a song, and he wasn’t sure which one, your voice too quiet for him to hear over the water and the suds from the shampoo. He thought it was something from the new Madonna album he picked up for you on cassette, and he was sure it would only be a few more days before he learned all the lyrics and got them stuck in his head.

When lather foamed up on your head like a heap of bubbles and that’s when he knew he’s done enough washing, nudging your shoulder with a kiss of his lips as he was mumbling against your skin.

“Turn around and let me rinse it out, sweets.”

You nodded, twirling on your heels as his hands instinctively grabbed at your shoulders making sure you didn’t slip and fall. You shut your eyes tightly, letting the water flow over the back of your head, his fingers once again combing through the ends gently, doing his best to not let the soapy water travel down your face.

He took his time even though he clearly didn’t see the suds running any more. He just wanted to admire your pretty face with your eyes closed because that meant you didn’t try dodging away from his gaze.

He noted how you felt the suds wash away, face then relaxing and the pinching of your eyes eased and a tired smile took over like you were seconds away from dreaming.

Yet he knew he couldn’t let you sleep like that, bringing you back with a gentle kiss upon your lips until you finally switched places, letting him be under the showerhead.

“You’re running out of shampoo.” You pouted, reaching down to grab at his bottle and squeeze a dollop into your palm.

He shrugged, keeping his arms around your waistline as your hands wandered up and began raking the product through his hair. Your nails were a bit longer than his, scratching at his scalp just enough that it didn’t hurt, but tickled in a pleasing way.

“I’ll pick some up tomorrow. Do we need more conditioner too?” He proposed already peeking one of his eyes open to stare at the nearly empty bottle.

You thought he didn’t know, but Eddie knew you hated when he spent money on you, even if it was a shared thing like conditioner or shampoo. He did a lot for his home, helping his uncle with rent with whatever tips he made from his share tips at the Hideout and when times were rough, pawning things just for the extra cash.

You wanted him to save some for himself, something he could call his own instead of giving it to you when you didn’t need it.

But things were starting to get a lot better with Eddie picking up a job at the General Store after Joyce became manager and was able to hire him as a cashier. He’d spoil you to cool thrifted jewelry and take you out on dates at Benny’s where he’d let you pick whatever you wanted and promised that you two wouldn’t have to share a single meal or a single drink.

In a lot of ways, Eddie’s love language was gift giving even if it was small acts. In all honestly, if Eddie could pluck every single star from the galaxy and give it to you in a bouquet sprinkled with flowers and love letters he would.

He’d give you the whole world if he could.

But even then, you’d probably tell him how he didn’t have to do all of that because all you ever needed was him. Same thing went for that silly bottle of conditioner that he knew you’d fill up with water and let last another two weeks before he’d pick a new one up without asking you.

Your fingers falter against his scalp before you shake your head, “No, we’re fine. It should last us until next week or so.”

He called it.

“Hmm, sure,” He grunted, wiggling his shoulders, “You said you wanted to try that new brand right? The lavender and mint scent?” He urged, not trying to tease, but it came out that way with the smile he still wore.

“Stop it.” You bite down on your lip, trying to hold back your guffaw as you motioned for him to turn around so you could rinse out the product.

You knew it no use trying to change his mind… if you were lucky, you’d say by the time he got home from work tomorrow he’d walk in with a bag of groceries and a new bottle of conditioner and shampoo in one of them.

And the both of you would probably end up here again… showering each other with love and suds of a new scent that will become your new favorite — he would definitely remember until you decided it was time for something new.

The two of you spent the rest of the shower with delicate hands roaming across bare skin, quietly conversating about any and everything under the warm water that was slowly running cold. When the water finally shut off, you both patted your bodies dry and standing in front of the mirror where Eddie watched you complete your skin care routine before helping him with his own.

You ended up dressed his oversized t-shirt and a clean pair of boxers as he settled for sweatpants that hung low on his hips. If you weren’t so tired, you’d jump his bones and get dirty all over again, but for the sake of your energy, you could wait it out till morning, happy to know you got to jump his bones in another way that was just as good.

His room was pitch black, cascaded with the pale moonlight that peeked past the curtains with the slight breeze coming from the ceiling fan whirling above you. His blanket was pulled up to your collarbones, keeping you warm alongside himself who acted as your portable heater. One of your legs rucked over his hips as the other rested against his thigh.

Eddie could feel your breathing against his chest, cheek nuzzled up right under his head that thumped for you… always for you.

All of his being, every inch and ounce of him was committed to you but he despised himself for not knowing if that was what you wanted. There was never a talk or conversation about what the two of you were.

It just so happened that it happened.

He gulped, thumb caressing your shoulder in random patterns as he looked down at you. “Baby?” he called out, checking to see if you were still awake before you hummed against him, “What am I to you?”

“Huh?” You moaned out, brows furrowing with your eyes still closed, caught between being awake and drifting off to sleep.

“Y’know, like…this. Us.” Eddie shifted a bit, just enough to be able to move your damp hair away from your face, “What am I to you?”

You didn’t give it much thought. The only thing in your head was the four letter word echoing because even in the dead of night on the brink of slumber, Eddie was always going to be the one for you.

“Mine.” You said, voice stronger than before, as you fought your eyes open and looked up at him past the darkness.

“Y-yeah?”

His voice seemed to betray his smile, like he still couldn’t fathom you could see him in that light. The kind that didn’t glare off his flaws or the things that he was afraid of… you didn’t make him feel less than for having fears or not being the perfect person.

To you it only made him more human, the one that you wanted to spend forever with.

“You’ve always been mine, Eds.” You murmured, moving yourself up on your elbows just enough to look down at him.

Your palm came down to where your head had laid, pressing against his heart and letting him know you were right there with him all along.

“What do you want to be to me?” You whispered, keeping your eyes on his, swimming in them, trying to get a glimpse into his thoughts.

His fingers wrapped around your wrist, feeling your pulse that beat in sync with his. There was no doubt in his mind that he always wanted you to be his, but he was always afraid he was never enough to be yours.

Not until now.

“Yours,” He breathed, finally letting go of the secret he held too long in his heart to try to hide any longer.

Smiling at him like he had plucked every star from the galaxy and laid them all out here for you. That’s when you knew what it was… what it had been all along. You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his, still smiling stupidly lovesick at him—

“You always have been.”

A kiss, a bond that sealed you two together forever because maybe all you wanted to be was each other’s, in this lifetime and all the others ones that existed.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: this one has been sitting in my wips since forever and i finally got to finishing it up!!! i wanted this one to be coated with sweetness and everything in between!!! i haven't written eddie in a while so this was super duper fun and revisting his character took me back to my roots!!!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

[larcenywrites]

any headcanons about what dating logan/wolverine might be like? 👀

I can try 😮‍💨 just like with sabretooth, I worry I can’t properly capture him… but we can always dabble around with ideas!

Wolverine x Reader

Warnings: definitely has nsfw | one line does refer to reader being AFAB |

🍺 Sigh… the real question is, how are you going to get in a relationship with this man 😒

🍺 Never mind whether he’s still pining after Jean or not, the guy just refuses to commit 🙄 doesn’t matter if you’ve fucked or not.

🍺 But let’s skip that whole dramatic montage and say you did manage to finally tie him down just a little 🤏

🍺 It’s not like Logan doesn’t have fun or smile or know how to love! But when it comes to an actual bona fide relationship… it’s just harder to comfortably do those things. He’s lived a long time, been through nearly every type of trauma, hates himself for what he is half the time, and, while it hides well behind all that attitude, he’s afraid of a lot of things— from himself to the world.

🍺 So it makes it hard for him to love like that. Feelings are kinda hard for him to talk about 😔 at least, at first. Later on it gets easier, and while his tone may still be soft and gruff and he might sound reserved, but he won’t shy away from any sweet pillow talk anymore 🥺 though… any specific topics pertaining to a future… he’s probably a little more eager to switch to something else 😣

🍺 He’ll definitely be all growly if you start playing with his hair 😤 believe it or not, he’s a little particular about his grooming, and still a little funny about being unexpectedly touched at times— even by his partner.

🍺 But perhaps the real show of love here is the fact that he still won’t stop you 🥲

🍺 Usually the free time he has is spent fucking shit up in the danger room or drinking at his favorite spot, but he will actually take you on dates that don’t involve either! (But let’s be honest, it’s kinda hot to watch him tear shit up sometimes 😏)

🍺 It’s canon that Logan enjoys some broadway musicals! And while it’s not its favorite thing to have to do, he can dress up quite nice 😘

🍺 Actually a horndog 😮‍💨 For a guy that’s always going on about controlling his raging animal or whatever, he sure doesn’t have much control when his sexual partner even looks at him the wrong way 🙄 Maybe it’s all the energy he can never quite get out, or maybe it’s because he goes without for a while at a time, but definitely don’t be surprised when, upon finally getting to share his bed, you don’t get very much sleep 😘

🍺 Unfortunately(?) the dude can smell horniness, which will get him going no matter what his current situation is 🤭

🍺 I know this man eats pussy like nobody’s business 🥴 literally pouncing on you 🥴 maybe a rather hard bite to your thigh before just literally diving in, but otherwise probably won’t do much foreplay, especially nothing all loving and sweet.

🍺 Surprisingly a cuddler? But not, like, when you do it :/ a selective cuddler, we’ll call him. He’ll roll over and trap you in a bear hug 🥰 but no matter if you are taller or shorter than him, he’s gonna be face planted in your shoulder blades

🍺 one of those people that will not be little spoon 😒😒😒😒😒 you might get away with it if you catch him already in bed and you just crawl on top of him and wrap around him 🤭

🍺 but he’s definitely a sucker for having you lie on his chest 🥺🥺🥺🥺 he’ll probably sigh as if you’re bothering him, but it’s kinda like that thing dogs do when they get comfy and sigh loudly 🥰

🍺 it’s counterintuitive, but tbh the more you shower him with love the more he low key hates himself… but he still definitely enjoys it! He actually does love to be loved! A little shy about it, though.

🍺 don’t be afraid to kiss his hand right where his claws come out 😘

🍺 not necessarily jealous as much as he is protective…

🍺 well, he does get a little possessive…

🍺 sometimes might be petty af if you try to come into bed smelling like someone who’s pissed him off that day (many people piss him off every day)

🍺 like it’s not your fault you were in the same general area as Cyclops for longer than ten minutes and Wolfie over here can smell that 😒

🍺 When he’s done throwing his pity party, though, you get way-too-tight cuddles though so it’s a win? How else are you supposed to smell like him again?

[lxmelle]

Those letters for his students was like Gojo’s way of showing consideration for them.

That’s what Geto Suguru, the “Gojo translator”, would say to them, if he was there.

I mean, there was a reason they were best friends - Geto understood him the best. He helped him learn how to (and the importance of) connecting to others - how to not be lonely.

It was the same in the scene with Kuroi. Right before he shouted for Gojo over the time, he just instinctively knew how to connect with Gojo and helped others with sympathising with Gojo.

I didn’t play the JJK game but I think the undercurrent dynamics is similar. Their bond. The exclusivity. Love. The whole breakup was about their friendship. The change the new generation got was also due to the path forged by them. As it stands, Gojo is shown to be largely misunderstood and nobody aside from Yuta has shown much affection for Gojo. Maybe Yuji ... to some degree. But I digress.

Maybe it’s an unpopular opinion, but considering how Geto-centred Gojo’s GIGA Character book was, he was likely influenced by Geto’s strong protective love for his “family”.

It makes sense to me that Gojo thought it would be important to put the students’ minds at ease with any thoughts/questions about their family. Hence the letters to help tie up loose ends.

Megumi was shown to be thinking about his father, whin he assumed was out there somewhere. Even if he didn’t want to know, there is a subconscious level of unfinished business from thinking this. And to know that Gojo killed him, may have helped him realise that his sensei had his back all this while. He was worth protecting all this while. That chapter of his life can truly close.

And just how bloody typical of his sensei, who has no “delicate-ness” about him!

As a sensei, and as a person, Gojo always protected others from his own personal concerns. He and Geto both stubbornly lived & fought “alone” because this was just their belief as the burden of the strongest = to protect others. The line was drawn and Gojo only ever wanted Geto to understand him, hence his conversation in 236. Only ever needed Geto by his side: hence his only complex was Geto leaving him behind.

We see this in how Shoko felt distant from them both. Stating in her inner monologue how she could never love either of them, but she was there - insinuating what they had between them was not something she could give (love) but her friendship was there if only Gojo let her in. And we see it in how, when she tried to connect with Gojo post-unsealing, by including Geto’s body as someone to be retrieved, he was a bit taken aback, starting his sentence with a long pause “……...” and keeping it simple / not elaborating (だな - it’s like the equivalent of a “yeah” but implies agreement).

Also, the fact the students and others can joke and call him an idiot, etc. means he really hid it well. Gojo protected them all. (As a teacher and adult should, I guess.)

I’m reminded of this scene.

Geto helped Gojo empathise & “not bully the weak”, but to also consider what else may be important... even if they may not think so themselves.

Until they receive what they thought they didn’t want, only to realise it was what they needed after all.

Cuz… y’kow: people (especially children) don’t always know what they want or need.

Sometimes what you want isn’t what you need. What you need isn’t necessarily what you want.

Gojo & Geto lived through that too... didn’t they? On so many levels… wanting, needing, denying, losing, yearning. Carrying their burdens they had nobody to share with. Making decisions on their own. Giving to the other a piece of their heart. Sacrificing themselves. Accepting each others loneliness as their own. Thinking they were better off loving the other by being apart.

The painful lessons that shaped the way for the new world. Children given the protection from The Strongest Sorcerer of the Modern Era. Granted a world with fewer curses for 10 years due to the Strongest Curse User.

Children who had adults to guide, protect, and care for them.

Children who do not have to be killed for the mistakes of others, who were forced to commit sins, or for being born a certain way.

I think every single sorcerer who were adults helped the kids in some way. The layers and layers of this story is just... overwhelmingly beautiful.

Much remains to be seen now. I’m worried that Yuta will have to live in Gojo’s body and that Kenjaku’s eerie words of Yuta being “the next Gojo Satoru” will extend beyond that battle.

People on X seem to be speculating whether a world without curses will exist (going back to jjk 0 and Geto’s ideals). What of the barriers without tengen? Some question reality as we are being shown - is it an elaborate dream? Hm.

I hope for the plant/flower trio at least... Megumi and Yuji can use their shared tragedy as vessels who committed sins to bond and support one another. Nobara is a great buffer and heroine in her own right. Their dynamics are really amazing. Independent, yet so bonded.

I’d love to see Gojo & Geto at peace. I guess whatever happens, chapter 236 is a bit like salvation. And doesn’t Megumi’s smiling pic (above) look similar? If these two smiled as if they had no regrets , we can assume Megumi smiled sincerely upon receiving the letter, too.

As long as Gege doesn’t do anything to change it.

Please please don’t. They deserve a reward for their hard work and sacrifice!

[fizz-pop-thwip]

I struggle thinking about non consensual human experimentation as a whole, but what happened to Bucky really it does just make me sick.

To start, think of how his stomach dropped when he fell from the train, the fucking fear knowing you're dead. You have 2 seconds and then your dead, this is it.

Then you wake up to 1) being alive, horrifically unaware of the 70 years of hell ahead of you and 2) your arm being not only surgically removed but replaced with a metal arm, a foreign body, a parasite. You fight because what else are you ment to do? But you fall unconscious again.

You wake up to days and days of torment and torture and slowly loose hope that it will ever end, that you'll ever be saved. He didn't know that Steve was dead, how long did he yearn for Steve to find him? How mad did he get? Did he punch the wall, did he scream? Did they have to sedate him because of just how psychotic that made him? How fucking manic he would go?

How long till he lost all feeling, all emotion and hope?

When they started putting him in the chair, did he scream and cry? Did he beg for anything else? Any thing, anything, fucking anything. Did he beg for death? Did he feel himself slowly lose all of his memory, did he sob when he first couldn't picture Steve's face, or when he could remember the most important person in the world, but not a name or a background or a face, not a crumb.

The first time he's put in cryo freeze, does he remember his reflection? Seconds before he fell unconscious, never knowing how long it would be before he woke up again. Did he wake up, begging to just be put back in, the closest fate to death he could ever achieve? The closest thing to mercy? Does he catch himself falling asleep at night and wake up in tears, not even sure if it's been 20 minutes of 20 years.

Did his crys for help fall on the shiney leather shoes of scientists who showed no emotion, did he question if he was even human to begin with? Surely a human would be treated with even a fraction of care. No one treated like this was born from a mother, no one treated like this was ever looked at with maternal love.

He stopped feeling like a person, he didn't even remember he was a person. When things seeped though it just hurt, they hurt him, it made it worse. So he stopped it, he wouldn't let himself. It was impossible to live. He had no coping mechanisms, no outlet, he would show any signs of struggle and be hurt for showing humanity. He had to be what they wanted.

Even after he was broken in, no crying anymore. No begging for mercy. Did he spend his nights awake, just TRYING to remember what he forgot, FEELING the missing spots in his mind? Did he hold that metal arm close because he can't even remember how he got it anymore, all he knows is it makes his shoulders ache.

He was completely and utterly trapped, the more he suppressed, even the minor shards he remembered, the more mania he would experience.

Even once he's free, how do you come back from that, even if it was just a mental thing, the physical, real DAMAGE to his brain was enough to make him never heal again. Bucky is a walking fucking miracle and maybe THE survivor.

He is going to have memory problems, severly. He is going to have intense PTSD flashbacks, total hallucination level, breakdowns. Seriously, this level of trauma is NEVER leaving him, not fully. Phantom pains, endless nightmares, coping mechanisms that don't make sense but comfort him none the less.

He's going to have periods of times where he can't even stand being touched, not Steve, not anyone. Weeks where he can't shower or move out of a space his brain has deemed safe for fear of being hurt. Scratches at the seam between his flesh and the metal of arm, wanting it off, wanting it away from him. Again does it necessarily make sense logically? NO!! but does he feel it 100%? Yes!!

He gets better, his bad periods get less intense, more far in between but they never fully go away. As fuckimg depressing as it is, hydra made a permanent mark on his psyche. It's FUCKED.

Gods strongest soldier is Bucky Barnes.

[plumipal]

AAAAAOMG UR TWST OC IS SO ADORABLE?? i'm absolutely in love with eden sm (+ his design?? the star eyes and the wings are my favorite,, i wanna smooch all his tattoos!) and i hope it's okay to ask a few questions about him... (I KNOW U SAID IT WAS OKAY BUT I JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE 😭 i'm genuinely interested in knowing more!)

1) does he have anyone in the twst cast that he tolerates/likes? i know he's part of the whole harem thing but is there anyone he doesn't necessarily mind being around (or even sharing with the prefect?)

2) do grim and eden have a good relationship? i would assume so since they're living both with one another but do they just get along with each other for the prefect's sake or are they actually best buds? (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

(little dumb idea but i think it would be so cute if the prefect treated the two as if they were all like a little family! eden and prefect being the two parents and grim their rambunctious kid lmao,, i would imagine the others not being so happy about it (っ‘ω`c))

3) is he okay with physical affection/pda? is he totally chill about it or would he rather shy about the whole thing? is he open to having the prefect touch his wings or his tattoos?

4) oooo any funfacts that you have about the new ramshackle resident?? just in general really if that's okay with u ofc!! ☆

aa okay that's it!! i hope my questions weren't annoying or anything! (っ‘ω`c)

Had to get one of those wheels ive seen going around where you put the oc and how they feel about the character and how the characters feel back about them, but with a twist lol (most of them are haters).

The ones he are most tolerant with are grim, ace, deuce, jack and kalim. Only one he could possible share with would either be kalim, jack or deuce, because of how he sorta is annoyed by ace.

Of course cant forget how he feels about you :) he thinks you are very very very special and he loves you a lot <3

He likes grim a lot, seeing as grim isn't one of the students that is oh so annoying. He warms up to the monster, seeing how gently you take care of grim, wanting to do the same. It feels, domestic, in his opinion.

Grim likes Eden a lot too, he has never belittled him, he has always made sure to feed grim along with Eden being very warm (and therefore very nice to sleep on). In grims opinion, he thinks you should go with Eden, cuz he is a good candidate for marriage (grim has been bribed with love, affection, and tuna).

He takes good care of the cat son, making sure he is healthy and happy.

Now onto pda. Eden are only okay with you touching the wings, the tattoo and the core, being as they are quite sensitive. The scar is still off limits, but maybe if you make him warm up to you even more you might be able to-

He loves when you help him with his wings, it's one of the best feelings out there. Fo mind that only you (and grim) can touch the wings, anyone else is off limits, ESPECIALLY ROOK HE IS FORBIDDEN TO TOUCH THEM.

Eden facts!! He has lil "ear-holes" like birds, just behind the feathers. Be careful around that part when you help him with his feathers, otherwise you might have a pouty and angry Eden on tour hands.

His eyes also glow in the dark! It's the scariest during the nightly snack runs down to the kitchen, seeing him suddenly stare at you, but you slowly get used to it!

You don't know where the extra eyes sometimes come from tho...

Also some general facts about Eden!

Dorm: Ramshackle

Birthday: 1/1

Age: ???

Height: 185cm

Fav subject: alchemy

Hobby: cleaning in ramshackle, birdwatching

Likes: you

Dislikes: Loud noises, blond 3rd year hunters named rook hunt, people trying to grab onto his wings that aren't you

Fav food: he don't need to eat to gain sustenance, bur he likes mashed potatoes with gravy

Least fav food: soup, any soup, he hates it

Btw if anyone were to write for Eden I would explode it would mean the world to me

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hi! Spencer Reid x reader where reader is kind of panicking because she’s worried Spencer will get tired of her and find someone that’s more like him personality wise? But then Spence reassures her that he loves her and only her? 🎀🚬🤍🤎

fem bimbo!plus size reader, wc: 589.

a/n: no i am not going to let bimbo reader sleep, but also i've been posting so much aaron recently, which is funny because i've been so obsessed with spencer recently. thank you for your request!

cw! angst :(

“I guess opposites really do attract huh?”

It was just a joke. A harmless, well meaning joke that completely spun your world off of its axis.

You were aware of the differences between you and your boyfriend, but you never felt bad about it, nor did he ever make you think that you weren't good enough for him. You would have liked to think that your differences was what made Spencer fall in love with you; but now you’re not too sure.

Yeah, sure, you needed help with understanding certain things, and your processing was a bit slower than others, but that didn’t make you stupid or annoying… right? 

What if you talked too much? What about that time that you kept interrupting Spencer while he was reading? Did you irritate him? Did he think about breaking up with you? You’d never had thoughts like these before because you never had a reason to. You always felt secure in your relationship with Spencer, like you were his equal. 

Spencer wasn’t used to your silence, it was unusual and quite frankly it raised the red flags in his mind. He was so used to your rambling about anything and everything that the quietness of his apartment was making him itch. 

“Sweetheart?” He called out softly.

It was almost as if his words scared you, your body jumping at the sound of him breaking the serene atmosphere of his almost dark academia-esque apartment. 

“Yes?” Your voice was hushed and meek and Spencer absolutely hated it.

He set his book down on the side table where he uncurled his legs and patted the spot on the couch next to him. “C’mere.” You looked almost hesitant to move, but nonetheless you got up and sat down. 

He grabbed your hand and held it firmly, but you didn’t make any effort to hold it back. It made Spencer nervous; did he do something?

“Sweetheart,” He reiterated. “Is something wrong?”

“Am I too much?” Your panic was quick to build. “What do you mean?” Spencer’s brows were furrowed inquisitively. “Like - like do I talk a lot? Or - or are my clothes too colorful? Do I ask too many questions?” Your speech fired out rapidly, almost as if you didn’t say what you wanted to know you may never do.

“Hey, hey, hey… no, no, stop.” Spencer was quick to shush you, opting to hold your face instead of your hand. “Did someone tell you that?” You shook your head, “No, yes? I don’t know. It - it was just because of that stupid joke Morgan had made.”

Ah, he remembers now.

“The one about opposites attracting?” You nod feebly. “And it got me thinking… what if I’m - what if I’m not a good match for you? You might want someone that’s similar to you,  one that knows how to play chess and understands all those super cool facts you know.” 

“Honey,” Spencer interrupts with a light laugh. “No.”

He wasn’t laughing at you, he was laughing at the sheer fact that he couldn’t imagine ever wanting someone else.

“I want you. I’ve only ever wanted you. I - I do admit that we are different, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I like that you aren’t like me. It’s comforting, and I just… I just love everything about you. I love you.”

“You promise?” You asked wetly with a pout. His lithe thumbs swipe at the tears trickling down your cheeks as he nodded, “Of course.”

“I love you too, Spencie.” 

There you were. His girl.

[vexwerewolf]

why is it that we only have like two licenses from any mech producer that’s a good guy? For a game where like there are clear good and bad guys (even if who you play isn’t necessarily linked to that) it seems strange to me that the only loot and XP you get is… more benefits from the bad guys

I can tell you the answer, but to do so, we're gonna have to talk about a completely different TTRPG.

If you've read @makapatag's truly excellent Filipino martial arts TTRPG Gubat Banwa (and if you haven't, here it is), you may notice that every single character class description (with one notable exception) ends with one of these babies:

I am not Makapatag, and I cannot write with quite as much grace and eloquence as he can, but I will try:

If you choose to become a Lancer, ask yourself why you mock the name of peace with these weapons of war. You call yourself a saviour, but your steed was forged from the murder of a world. You stride across the sky in a colossus built in your own image, so why are you too cowardly to give it your face? Why do you believe these machines of death can preserve life?

It is important to note that the admonitions in Gubat Banwa are not just there to make you feel bad; they are there as legitimate questions. The Sword Isles have seen so much blood, death and tragedy. Wars are not glorious and killing is not a game. So, knowing all of that, why have you taken up this discipline - no matter how noble and virtuous it might claim to be - to shed more blood, to bring more death, to write more tragedy? What could possibly drive you to this? What need is so great that you must kill?

The thing with Gubat Banwa is that there are legitimate answers to these questions! There are bad people doing bad things, and some of them will not be stopped with words or kindness. Sometimes, as sorrowful as it is, killing is the correct choice to prevent greater suffering and deeper tragedy - but adding less misery and death to the world is still adding some amount of it. Even the most necessary wars will drench the ground in the blood of the innocent.

A sword is a tool meant to kill humans; while it can be used for other things, it is not well-suited to anything other than this. A mech is, in its most basic essence, just a very complicated sword: it's usually used on things larger than a person, but it's still a tool built to kill.

So why have you taken up this path? Humanity was saved from the brink of extinction and has created wondrous technologies like printers, cold fusion and mind-machine interface, and yet you use them to play soldier in a giant metal man. Why do you choose to take up this machine of death, built by the greedy and pitiless? Why do you think these machines can ever make things right?

Because sometimes, despite everything, they can.

Warhammer 40K shows an awful world full of monsters and monstrosity, and in the darkest moments of its history, Lancer's world looked just as bleak, but Lancer's world differs in one crucial way. Warhammer's world has long given up trying to be better, but Lancer's world never did. Lancer's world kept insisting a better world is possible, and it used what tools it had to make it so.

Sometimes the correct choice, no matter how bitter it may seem, is to kill someone. When you need to do this, a sword is a perfectly good choice for the job.

If you find yourself discomforted by the fact that all the people you can buy mechs from are corrupt and immoral - good! You have correctly engaged with the text. You have understood that the sort of people who would make giant walking death machines and sell them for profit are not good people. But you still have a job to do, and you need the correct tools, and those people have them.

Lancer is not a game about a perfect world - it is a game about a deeply flawed and imperfect one that does not let its imperfection stop it from trying. You have to try to make a better world, even with imperfect tools made by unpleasant people.

[reignpage]

Hiii, I hope you're doing well. In your eden AU, who do you think would be more likely to get a divorce? And the least likely?

Great question!!! I love this (not necessarily the direction I’d go with but if I were to be brutally realistic)

Most likely:

Toji and reader

He’d fold under the pressure of peaking in college He’d be insecure about the fact that he’s going from job to job, settling as a coach, teaching and never doing Whereas reader would succeed in her field It’d become a strain on their relationship And god forbid they have a child together Yeah, they wouldn’t last past the age of 35

Geto and reader

Perhaps too controlling He's around hot clients all the time She'd be insecure He'd do a poor job of reassuring her Also, he might be plagued by his depression and lack of faith in humanity He'd dim her light Make her feel bad for being optimistic

Nanami and reader

Might be a bit of a stretch but it's possible He's around intelligent and successful people She could end up as a housewife, no particular passion or talent She'd be insecure about that Accuse him of cheating or thinking she's stupid They'd divorce because of her insecurity and not for his lack of trying He'd give her the divorce because he thinks it'll make her happy Neither of them are

Least Likely:

Gojo and reader

He's whipped. But also social conventions and the world that they live in Gojo's the type to bend over backwards to keep the people he loves in his life If it ever becomes a failing marriage, he'd lose himself trying to keep her But they wouldn't give up

Choso and reader

Also whipped full stop Thinks she created the moon Needs her for his art And I just can't see him developing a flaw that would make her go ew She's very optimistic and cheerful but also smart She'd know how to handle any angst Choso comes under as a tortured artist

Sukuna and reader

They might divorce but I think it's unlikely for different reasons They need their picture perfect marriage for political reasons They're the only people that'd ever understand and accept each other It's the kind of bond you couldn't ever lose Also, I feel like they'd have dirt on each other lol They're also the type to utilise divorce against each other So every time they have a fight and one brings up divorce to make the other cave (depending on the situation, they'd both be likely to actually succumb) The other would say, serve me the papers and you'll see your name on the NEWspapers along with the words 'drugs' or 'murder' or 'bribery' etc etc

[bunicate]

mimi i wud die for sum wrio incest ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ i need nii-nii to punish his lil sis when she starts actin up and disobeying ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི ₊˚ pairing ꒱ྀི wriothesley x fem reader — warnings ꒱ incest. fucking in leggings. calling your big brother daddy ? creampie. reader is described as small / 18+

i kept u waiting long enough and Im not sure but I may have strayed a witl bit from whut u said but still ! ! wrio-nii <3 muhehe . some icky thoughts and babbling below nonnie.

believe it or not wriothesley doesn’t necessarily enjoy punishing his little sister, but that doesn’t mean he’s opposed to it, especially if you’ve been seeking a less-than-innocent reaction out of him. 

it crushes him to say it, but wriothesley knows that his chilling title as duke at the fortress of meropide doesn’t grant him the same freedoms as others. he’s an overseer, a self-appointed role that he carved himself. part of it is to maintain order; the other half is maybe to fulfill his own sentence and snuff out any remnants of the guilt he couldn’t shake off.

naturally, he’s a protector whose hands happen to be bloodied. if it meant guaranteeing the safety of his little sister, he’d fight his way through anything, even if it meant bruised skin and broken bones. to be at the fortress while you remained in the world above was, to say the least, hard, but he’s working around that obstacle.

its some days, like today ( though rare on occasion ) he takes a well-deserved break.

a long shower, a couple of hours in the at home gym to stay dedicated, and then he promises afterwards that he’s all yours. maybe a picnic, a stroll through the town, a shopping trip—whatever you set your sights on, he’d do it; he’d get it because he has the patience of a saint, but that just happened to be the one thing you lacked.

your attempts at seducing him were messily orchestrated. adorable, and innocent, and his cock strained against his sweatpants nonetheless.

wriothesley’s bare chest expands with each deep breath he takes, greedily sucking up the air to calm his lungs and beating heart after he drops his weight.

though away from the world below, he doesn’t stray from his regimen. even when darling little girls strut in loungewear not even appropriate enough to wear in their own homes, offer him water.

he downs it—gulps it incredibly fast and wipes the remnants of water that escape on the back of his hand. he sets the glass down, and he knows that water isn’t the only thing his body is aching for.

the clothes are practically second skin, your nipples are puffy and alert under your shirt from the air conditioning, and the leggings are tight enough to emphasize the chub of your lower lips.

“why are you lookin’ at me like that?”

it’s a silly question he doesn’t bother to answer.one foot behind the other, hands intertwined, you give him that a stare that reveals more than you let on. your tongue delicately swipes your bottom lip, and his eyes follow. he watches closely when your lips do that small bounce from the release of your teeth.

he wants to wipe that doe-eyed look off your face and rip the flimsy pants off. maybe even ruffle up your pretty pigtails, but you’d hate him if he did. yet, it’s only fair for him to tease in return, and wriothesley isn’t too keen on enforcing discipline. but if you want it so bad, he can’t see why he can’t be voracious just this once.

it takes him only a split second to wrangle your body to the floor and push your cheek into the plush mat. he’s pumped with adrenaline; his brute strength nearly knocks the wind out of you.

those fingers that you love so dearly trail down your hips and backside to finally press down on the seat of your leggings—right where your cunt sucked in the fabric. just two of his digits encompass the size of your heat, and they trace the sticky folds through the cloth. your grip on the mat tightens, bracing yourself for the inevitable.

he roughly rips open your leggings, the sudden exposure to air making you gasp. it’s a wide enough hole to display your plump ass and fat little pussy to his icy blues. such thick, succulent lips dressed in a thin layer of your slick that he wanted to lap up selfishly.

his large hand reels back and collides with the flesh of your butt watching it jiggle.

“hnn— !”

your body lurches forward on impact, and wriothesley flexes his thick arms to keep you still.

“shh, shh. s’okay.”

he rubs the fat of your butt briefly before landing another swift strike.

you squeal, “nii-nii! p-pleaseee !”

the arch in your back deepens, and wriothesley licks his lips in anticipation at your show of embarrassment.

“this is what you wanted, isn’t that right?”

he’s dizzy from the sight of your gaping cunt, and he can’t tell whether to spank it, fuck it, or kiss it first.

ultimately, he decides on spitting.

he puckers his lips, and a tiny glob lands right in the center of your pussy, and he eagerly stares as it disappears between your plump folds.

you flinch away reactively from the moist invasion, scrambling on the floor, but your brother overpowers you.

“come on, don’t run from me now, you little brat.” his hold on you tightens, forcing your ass higher up.

wriothesley begins to tug his pants down and pull out his heavy cock. it’s thick and drooling pre-cum from his wide tip, eager to empty his load inside your tiny hole. he gives it a few strokes and watches you wiggle your butt in excitement.

“put it in nii-nii. i'm so messy down there, so you don’t need’ta prep me. . .”

a manicured nail runs down your slit and separates your fold, and nothing but arousal webs across your twitchy cunt.

“fuck .” 

you are messy.

you’re dripping and creaming, and he’s barely started. he takes his own thumbs to spread your lips apart further, like he couldn’t believe it himself. your vagina thumps erratically, pumping out a bubbly, clear fluid. the squelch is disgustingly loud, and he has to fight himself from collecting the salty drops with his tongue.

he whistles in agreement.

“would you look at that? i guess you’re right. this needy cunt can take my fat cock. ”

he's holding his breath when he presses it against your quivering center.

“i always thought you were too little to take it, but your pretty pussy is more than ready for me.”

he rubs the softness of your skin in awe.

you turn your neck slightly to give him a shy smile. “mhm, s’ only for you. . but,” you shake your hips again. “could you put it in, please?”

slick was now stuck between your thighs, staining your already ruined leggings, and you felt dirty, but not enough to overpower the desire to be fucked by your older brother. you were practically humping the air in utter want, but wriothesley doesn’t match your urgency.

“i’m trying, sweetie, but—” the duke makes no effort—he wipes his sloppy mushroom head on your clit, dragging it in messy circles.

“nii-nii is having trouble.”

his pre-cum frothed into a cloud coating your already wet lips, and he hisses when your pussy briefly twitches around his glans. he nudges your opening teasingly but doesn’t bother to push his way through the tight seam.

he shakes his head in faux remorse.

“see, i guess you’re still too little after all."

you throw a small fit, “that’s not true! i can take it!”

he chuckles at your pouting. the hold on your ass digs into your skin as a warning to not get so worked up.

"then what do you suppose we do?”

he spits again, but this time on his shaft, and he drags his hand up just enough for his foreskin to cup the crown of the flushed tip.

"jus’ ruin it—force your cock in. .”

and he didn’t need to be told again.

two beautiful holes, a tight little knot that he can’t wait to split apart one day, and a wet and fat pussy. was he even strong enough to tough it out a little longer?

he looks up towards the ceiling, muttering a brief prayer. you just might kill him, but he's more than ready.

the tight fist around his member squeezes until a thick drop of white plops against the floor. his balls firm and round flutter with every gasp of air you take. his body is in sync with yours, and as soon as his tip pushes against your opening, it stretches—coaxing in his meaty girth. he pushes all the way in until he's sure he can’t go any deeper, and then pulls back out. his cock shines with your wetness, and he takes a few seconds to marvel at where your groins meet.

without warning his hips to mount forward, and he fucks you with purpose—to teach a lesson.

his pace is far from what you predicted; it's much faster and filled with a vigor you weren’t used to. your big brother prefers to handle you with much more care, knowing that you're just a delicate little thing, but he trusts you’ll get used to it.

you proved time and time again to be adaptable, so you keep your ankles crossed and your face down, smushed into the floor, while he uses your body for his own end. his balls, warm and taut, spank your clit unabashedly, turning the screw inside of you. a ring of milk forms at the base of his cock, and the friction pulls noises out of you you didn’t think you were capable of making.

you move to crawl away and put some distance, but wriothesley doesn't let you.

“nah, be still; let nii-nii use you. that’s what little girls are supposed to do, right?”

he laughs, maybe even out of disbelief. each time he tries to convince himself that it will be the last, he still finds himself forcing his cock inside his cock-hungry little sister. and your moans only elevate in pitch as you get closer to that edge.

“yesssss. ah !—hn—you can use me as many times as you want. m'your little stress toy!”

wriothesley grunts loudly. the sound of your lustful proclamations rattling his very being.

“I'm your little girl. keep fuckin’ me, please, nii-nii.”

he doesn’t want to stop.

the recoil of your round ass from the impact of his thrust is a view too otherworldly for him to separate his eyes from. his body accumulates more sweat, and he continues to deliver those fucks that pushes you harder into the floor. your leggings, other than the gaping rip, were thoroughly obliterated, and the mixture of fluids made the fabric darker and stickier.

“! m’almost there, keep going nii-nii. . . s-so close !”

a foggy cloud slows the whirrs in his brain; all of his thinking ceases, and the only thing he can focus on is finishing inside you. to empty his large balls of his salty seed and pull out more of those choked sobs out.

“s’okay baby. relax . i got you.”

“hnn-! hiccup . mmkay ! i love you s’much."

“yeah, nii-nii loves you too, baby. don’t fucking forget it.”

"i won't, d-daddy.”

he stills only for a moment before continuing.

“daddy ? what are you talking about, silly girl?”

he snickers in between moans and claps of skin. did he fuck you that dumb already?

“I’m your brother princess, don’t tell me you forgot.”

you pulse around his cock.

“mhm, but you’re my daddy too.”

he rolls his eyes and smiles.

“i guess i have a pretty daughter to take care of now,” he says and he’s rewarded with your cute mewls and noises of happiness.

he’d kill for you.

again.

he’s a man free of guilt when he’s the closest to you, and it’s why he feels no shame when he delivers one last thrust and pumps your pussy full of his hot semen.

you welcome it, feeling it fill your belly and it takes few minutes for wriothesley to separate himself from you. the minute he pulls out is when he feels robbed of your warmth, he feels naked but satisfied. his cock layered with thick cum fell limp between his legs and he feels relief that his balls were no longer aching with cum ; it was instead leaking from your puffed cunny.

his hands reached out to touch your sensitive pussy, squeezing it to watch the dollops of his seed drip on the gym mat. your legs shake in desire and it’s when reality sinks in.

you didn’t finish and wriothesley makes no move to get you off. he smirks, he’s sure that this time his punishment will keep you in line.

although, only for a bit .

[la-pheacienne]

George Martin, 2013: "In a very basic level winter is coming for all of us. I think that’s one of the things that art is concerned with: the awareness of our own mortality. “Valar morghulis” – “All men must die”. That shadow lies over our world and will until medical science gives us all immortality… but I don’t think it makes it necessarily a pessimistic world. Not any more pessimistic than the real world we live in. We’re here for a short time and we should be conscious of our own mortality, but the important thing is that love, compassion and empathy with other human beings is still possible. Laughter is still possible! Even laughter in the face of death… The struggle to make the world a better place… We have things like war, murder and rape… horrible things that still exist, but we don’t have to accept them, we can fight the good fight. The fight to eliminate those things.There is darkness in the world, but I don’t think we necessarily need to give way to despair. One of the great things that Tolkien says in Lord of The Rings is “despair is the ultimate crime”. That’s the ultimate failing of Denethor, the Steward of Gondor, that he despairs of ever being able to defeat Sauron. We should not despair. We should not go gentle into that good night".

JRR Tolkien, 1962 : "One reviewer once said, this is a jolly jolly book, all the right boys come home [...]- this isn't true of course, he can't have read the story. [...] Human stories are practically always about one thing, really, aren't they? Death. The inevitability of death. . . . . . (He quotes Simone de Beauvoir) 'There is no such thing as a natural death. Nothing that ever happens to man is natural, since his presence calls the whole world into question. All men must die, but for every man his death is an accident, and even if he knows it he would sense to it an unjustifiable violation.' Well, you may agree with the words or not, but those are the key spring of The Lord Of The Rings".

"Lotr is all rainbows and unicorns and Asoiaf is nihilistic and grimdark". Wrong, and wrong. In all its hope and radiance, lotr often gets very dark, and despite all the death and suffering, the hopeful moments in asoiaf shine bright. The meeting point of these two is this: having hope while in despair, and even better, refusing to give up because you have to go on despite not having any hope left.

[r0-boat]

Protective!Satan

Whb Satan headcannons about him being a little overprotective towards the MC

He did say he wanted you to enjoy your time in hell. He just didn't think you would adapt so easily...

He thought he knew humans didn't really like the concept of devils but you seemed different. Now he regrets telling you that devils can't lie. He can't stand watching you be so overly friendly and naive enjoying the company of every devil you come across.

Yes just because devils can't lie that doesn't mean they are necessarily good. Devil's can still bend the truth, devil's can still manipulate. Sitri could only huff at his anger reminding his king that he was the one who dug his hole. Satan takes it upon himself to be your protector. He swears if one little hair on your head is missing he will rage. He's itching to use this new baseball bat he bought. You glare at him at the fact that he's chasing away anyone and everyone around you and he just smiles and says "Good. The less devils, the better."

Satan will be hanging around with a weapon in his hand glaring at whoever you're talking to every time you look back at him he'll just smile warmly at you only at you.

He hates the fact that devils crowd around you. In Gehenna He's practically attached to you at the hip growling for devils to give you space. He's only asking 'nicely' this once; anyone who doesn't listen they will get a punch to the face.

Like hell he would let the other kings be in the same room with you alone! He knows exactly how devil's act. He knows that the moment A devil has the chance to take temptation, they will take it.

You can hang out with whatever you want. But the moment they fuck up or he catches wind of any devil that wrongs you in some way him and his entire regimen of wrathful bloodthirsty devils will jump them on the street.

Of course he isn't as openly violent when he's escorting you in the human world, at first. (It's tough to conceal wrath) He wants to let you know that he's only sparing the guy that was rude to you because you told him to.

MC: "if you don't have something nice to say don't say it at all!" >:(

"Oh ok" *punches Mammon without saying anything*

Must know your location 80% of the time.

As much as he doesn't like the Kings hanging around you, he'd rather they be around you instead of you being completely alone on the streets of hell. You're so naive and easy to get along with, and devils naturally flock to you, so he's worried that an angel might deceive you or, worse, a devil with not the best intentions might lure you somewhere. Just because devils can't tell lies, that doesn't make them exceptionally safe. You wander around too much and the only reason why he hasn't put a tracker on your phone is because He's not Leviathan.

*angry housewife noises* "WHERE THE F WERE YOU?!"

-You were only gone for 5 minutes-

Satan and Leviathan will think it's crazy if you ever bring it up but they're actually a pretty similar when it comes to you Levi is a little more internal where Leviathan will delete numbers or ask you a billion questions about the devil you hung out with yesterday, Satan will pull up with an army and do a good cop bad cop interrogation with Sitri(They are both bad cops, One is just more violent than the other)

Satan 🤝 Leviathan

Murder to protect MC squad

Satan: Leviathan I need your help...

Leviathan: Go away I don't ca-

Satan: MC got a text from their ex.

Levi: .... You've come to the right place. What is your plan? I'll help you. Do you prefer poison or bullets?