#so like not to be getting heavy on the tumblr

[twst-aceofhearts]

Can you write a floyd x touch starved reader because their family on earth isn't all that affectionate?

Squeeze First, Act Later

𝖆/𝖓: starting to post fics with no header because it keeps tweaking out TUMBLR WHY IT WAS WORKING FINE BEFORE and WOAH TWO IN ONE DAY?!

𝖙𝖜: none

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: floyd x touch starved!reader

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘: 990

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖘: @luxaryllis @thegoldencontracts @waterthatsmoe @oya-oya-okay @writingattemptsxx

Floyd Leech wasn’t exactly subtle about his affections. If he liked you, you knew it. If he really liked you, you were getting lifted, squished, teased, and dragged around like a personal toy. For most people, it was a lot.

But for you?

It was everything.

Because back home—on Earth—hugs were rare. Your family wasn’t bad, exactly. Just... cold. Distant. Not the kind to ruffle your hair or pull you into a sleepy cuddle on the couch. Not the kind to hold your hand when you were sad or lean against you just because.

And here was Floyd, invading your space from day one like he’d always belonged there.

At first, it overwhelmed you. All the sudden touch—arms slung around shoulders, hands tugging at your clothes, fingers flicking your forehead. But instead of shrinking away, you found yourself... craving it.

Needing it.

Even when he was teasing you, it felt like warmth in your chest. Like something had been frozen for a long time and was finally starting to thaw.

One lazy afternoon in Octavinelle, you sat on the couch in the lounge, head tilted back, eyes closed. Floyd plopped down beside you with zero warning, sprawling dramatically across your lap.

“Eeeeeh? You look all gloomy again,” he drawled, staring up at you upside-down. “You gonna cry or something?”

You blinked down at him. “No, just tired.”

He didn’t move. If anything, he melted further into you, head resting heavy against your thigh. One hand lazily reached up, fingers toying with yours.

You stiffened slightly at first—then let him. The casual intimacy made your heart squeeze, but you didn’t pull away.

Floyd’s sharp gaze flicked up to your face. “You always get all stiff when I touch you,” he said, tone unusually serious. “But you never stop me. Weird, huh?”

You swallowed, not meeting his eyes. “I’m not used to it.”

“Huh?” He propped himself up on one elbow. “Used to what?”

“…Being touched. My family wasn’t really... affectionate.”

Floyd stared at you. Not laughing. Not smirking. Just watching.

“Like, no hugs and stuff?” he asked after a pause.

You nodded.

“…That suuucks,” he finally muttered, as if personally offended. “No wonder you always look all surprised when I hug you. You’re like—‘whoa! what’s this??’” He mimicked your expression, then flopped back down dramatically.

You huffed a laugh.

He was quiet for a moment. Then—

“Hey, shrimpy.”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna try it?”

“…Try what?”

“Hugs. All the time. No reason. Just ‘cause.”

Your breath caught. Slowly, you nodded.

Floyd sat up, wrapped his long arms around you, and pulled you into a tight squeeze. His chin rested on your shoulder, hair tickling your cheek.

“Like this?” he murmured.

You couldn’t speak. You just buried your face in his chest, fingers gripping the back of his jacket like you were afraid he’d disappear.

Floyd didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to.

From that day on, you never had to ask for affection. He gave it freely, generously, with all the intensity that was so him. And every touch, every nudge, every sudden arm slung over your shoulders, felt like rewriting a part of you that had gone too long without love.

It started with the small things.

Floyd wasn’t any less chaotic—he still skipped class, still dragged freshmen around by the collar, still threatened to squeeze anyone who annoyed him.

But there was a softness now. A strange, quiet shift that only those who knew him best could spot.

Azul noticed it first.

“Floyd,” he said one afternoon, eyeing the scene before him with a furrowed brow. “Why are you… braiding their hair?”

Floyd glanced up, lazily twisting another lock of your hair between his fingers.

“‘Cause I wanna, duh,” he grinned. “Shrimpy said no one ever played with their hair before. So I’m makin’ up for lost time.”

Azul stared. You were seated on the floor between Floyd’s knees, shoulders relaxed and eyes half-lidded in contentment. If Azul didn’t know better, he’d have said you were about to fall asleep right there in Floyd’s lap.

That was new.

“…I see,” Azul said, adjusting his glasses. “Just don’t skip your shift again. We have guests at seven.”

“Uh-huh,” Floyd hummed, clearly not listening. He patted your head twice—gently, as if memorizing the shape of it. “Shrimpy first, work later.”

Azul opened his mouth to protest, then stopped. There was no menace in Floyd’s voice. No biting sarcasm. Just something warm and unfamiliar.

Jade, meanwhile, had been watching this change with quiet fascination.

Later that night, while Azul reviewed the lounge’s earnings and Floyd dozed off with his head on your shoulder in the back booth, Jade leaned over and said softly, “I think he’s happier.”

Azul glanced over the rim of his teacup. “Hm?”

“Floyd,” Jade said, smiling faintly. “He’s been more even-tempered. He hasn’t threatened to sink anyone in days.”

“That’s… unsettling.”

“And he lets them hold his hand.”

Azul choked slightly on his tea.

Floyd Leech, who bit people for touching him wrong, letting someone hold his hand?

“You think they’re—?” Azul asked, eyes narrowing.

“In some way,” Jade mused. “Floyd doesn’t do anything halfway.”

Azul’s gaze drifted back toward the two of you. Your hand was loosely linked with Floyd’s, his fingers curled around yours even in sleep. You looked peaceful.

And Floyd, for once, didn’t look like a live wire about to snap.

Azul exhaled. “If this makes him easier to work with, I won’t complain.”

Jade chuckled, eyes gleaming. “Oh, I wouldn’t say easier. But definitely more tender.”

Later, as you gently brushed Floyd’s bangs from his face, you murmured, “You okay with them watching us like that?”

“Mhm,” Floyd mumbled without opening his eyes. “Lemme show off. I like bein’ yours.”

You smiled. “I like being yours too.”

He cracked one eye open, grin sharp but affectionate.

“Then I’m gonna keep touchin’ you until you never feel lonely again.”

And true to his word—he did.

credit to @fae-and-wolf for divider

[luvmanifesting]

im gone for so many months after shifting 💀 and i got “debunked” yeah so imagine trying to debunk me and end up being so completely wrong that i had to sit back and laugh for a solid 5 minutes at the straight stupidity i’ve read from your post @debunkingidiots . i do appreciate that you had the time TO make a post out of “debunking” me just to end up wrong. it meant you had the time to think of me how flattering. if you’re gonna debunk someone do it right, if i recall doesn’t debunking have to include solid pieces of evidence? like down from pictures and messages and screenshots? how’re you a complete debunking page and can barely do your job, the only thing you’ve debunked is whoever that star account was. fun fact theres NOTHING to debunk about me because i haven’t lied!!! :3 you only took a screenshot of me correcting someone and then you went to claim it immediately as me “lying” and then gifted me “best liar reward” how DELUSIONAL and STUPID can you be. you can actually just reward me for being such a master at manifesting + always getting what i want. i think that fits me better than you just randomly coming out the blue to assume i’m a liar. if your whole account runs solely on exposing “liars” i fear you’re just..bored with your life.

next topic @fairykittiz8 or whoever the hell it was, its so funny you can claim to know me, none of my friends use tumblr.. or KNOW i use tumblr? so claiming to know me is a HEAVY reach. + if you had the password to my account you would’ve still be interacting with the followers i have on my account. don’t use my name in your posts like EVER again.

and to the overly “woke” people typing styles do NOT mean someone is someone else, nobody owns a typing style? (i mean unless you assume that you own one idc)

if you want to know how to actually CATCH a liar @debunkingidiots i recommend you check out @themoonlightbabyy they can CLEARLY do their job better than you it seems💀 and whats also funny @debunkingidiots is how people can find evidence that someone is lying WAYYY before you can..kind of defeats the whole purpose of being a debunking page if you rely on other people to do your job.. “if you suspect someone let me know” - famous words from a “debunking” page, LMFAO you’re the one who’s supposed to be suspecting people.. not..anonymous people?

and before you still try to get on me “lying” (which i know you’re gonna try to use my permashifting information as an example because you’re so “smart” ) yes, i did state i would erase my memory of this reality and everything about it but in my last post i made about it which was my leaving post. i said i added more things and i also did adjust more things. which was removing the memory removal. i wanted to keep it incase i came back. do your studying on permashifting before you also try to come on my back about it, there are PLENTY of permashifting people who came back. + whoever commented about me being inconsistent about having unlimited money clearly do not understand the concepts of unlimited. ill just dumb it out for you and explain it just a little. ME having unlimited money does NOT mean it’ll stay at 9 trillion all damn day (unless ofc i assume) what i MEANT by unlimited is it not running out. clearly i have to be more specific when stating a specific desire because lack of comprehension still exists.

i hope you enjoyed your few minutes of fame in this post! @debunkingidiots . oh and i’ll definitely be wiping my tears with my snow leopard and my money :3

don’t become a debunking page if you can’t do your “job” correctly and don’t debunk me after i leave💀 you might as well assume every new blogger is me atp i love that you’re obsessed with me.

[speedygoreman]

Hey so uh. Whats w the accounts w random keysmash usernames hating on ppl

Oh boy you're in for a treat. Okay so

It all started when this person who I think was originally from twitter joined tumblr. Someone then made a callout post like "hey this woman is lowkey insane actually here's a bunch of crap she did".

So I was like "huh weird" and I just blocked her and reblogged that post so other people would see it

Little time passes and someone dms me like "hey those allegations were all debunked here's a twitter link to the debunking" and I do not have twitter and also didn't feel like looking at something with heavy subject matter at that moment in time so I just ignore it because I reasoned I could always look at it later

Not a MINUTE goes by of me not responding before I get ANOTHER account dming me. And now I'm suspicious because that HAS to be the same person. I check both of their account histories and sure enough they haven't liked any posts since. Past the day that they messaged me.

So I'm suspicious enough to think "this is probably the same person. And this is really fishy. So I'm gonna play it safe and block them" which I did!

guess what happens. Third account comes along to get mad at me that I'm blocking them and 'ignoring real evidence and contributing to defamation' and I very much don't like their tone so I block them again.

Then I get a LOOOONNNNGGGG ass dm from the woman herself (wonky) in which she calls me many things:

So I block her again!

And then those other accounts slowly started popping up the longer I didn't unblock her. Which I have refused to do to this day because fuck her that's why.

Now ALLEGEDLY. ALLEGEDLY. Chaos (the person manning all these spam accounts) and Wonky are different people. However I don't but it for a single second.

Firstly because they have the same exact typing style. Second because these accounts glaze her to a level that's just stupidly unbelievable for it to be any other person. Third because no one has ever seen them typing at the same time. Fourth because 'Chaos' has demonstrated knowledge he could not fucking have multiple times. Fifth because Wonky was enough of an idiot to not understand how IP adresses work and claim she got IP banned along with 'Chaos' because they live in the same area or whatever

So I THINK. I THINK. It's pretty reasonable to say it's the same fucking person. People might disagree with me but that's the same bitch.

Anyway originally the campaign was mostly targeted towards me and a couple of other people in specifc. SHE EVEN MADE ENTIRE PARODY ACCOUNTS OF ME AND ARCHIE BY THE WAY. IT'S HILARIOUS

Also she keeps calling everyone groomers or pedos (because that's what she was accused of. A fondness for minors) which is hilarious because at the time she started calling me that I was still a minor myself.

She's accused me of so many things and they're all buck wild:

-being narcissistic and or a sociopath. (She's a big fucking ableist. Threatened several people because they were autistic) jokes on you that's not a moral failing! Both of those are just. People

-defamation of course. Because I refused to apologize to her for her bullying me

-fetishizing lesbians (I drew two women kissing. OoooOoo)

-having a thing for milfs??? (I think purely because I really like Brenda Triton)

-fetishizing gay men (I drew Henry and Dalston being a couple multiple times and that's all it took)

Anyway she went away for a good while (good riddance) but I guess she got sulky that everyone is having a way better time without her because she's back to cry for attention again.

I'm not worried, she'll leave eventually. She's like horrifically bad at bullying people anyway.

[sweethearts-sweettreats]

The Lie and many Truths

Page break credit: link Tumblr, Website

Chapter One

Trigger warnings: Psychological Manipulation & Gaslighting, Parental Obsession / Yandere Themes (Platonic), Implied Child Endangerment, Werewolf Transformation & Body Horror, Infantilization, Emotional Abuse, Violence, Implied Isolation / Imprisonment, Crying / Distress from a Parent Figure

-----------------------------------<3-----------------------------------

"The Lock and Bite"

You broke one of Dad's rules again... just barely! You tried to go out the back door to get some fresh air in the garden. You didn't even want to leave the garden... but that's enough for him.

That's always enough. Even thinking of it is enough.

You hear the key turn in the heavy lock. The metal clicks shut and it's silent again.

You're in your room alone... again. A prisoner in your own house with your own Dad as the guard. You sit and think when everything changed. Was it when mom left? Maybe when one of dad's friends got to close and asked to call her momma M...

"Everything is just so confusing and I'm tired... I wanna go to sleep, but I can't stop tossing and turning in bed. The window is nailed shut, so no fresh air either." You say to the dust bunnies in the corner of your room. Your dad has tried to get you to clean them out, but you just can't find the energy to do it.

You hear a howl from outside the house, not too far away. The noise doesn't scare you anymore after you've heard the same dog? wolf? Whatever it was for the past 3 months. It goes quiet again, and you can hear your dad making a snack for you in the kitchen. He's humming an upbeat kids' song, probably bobbing his head to the beat.

There's a loud crash from downstairs. A howl. A Groan. A sound of pain. And then nothing.

Everything stills, your body freezes, and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears thumping away. It matches whatever it was coming up the stairs towards your room.... It's coming and it's huge. You can't move, it's coming to get you and eat you. That howl was too close to the house earlier. You should've known. You cry softly, and it gets harder to breathe. There is a heavy weight on your chest. You feel too hot and too cold all at once.

A growl echoes through your door, wet and low. Like the dog that tried to bite you at the park that one time you went with dad before this whole mess. You can hear the wood of the floorboards splinter right outside your door. Whatever it is begins scratching and sniffing at your door.

You hold your breath. You hope you can hold it as long as that thing is out there. You hope your Dad's okay... 'I want my Dad...' you cry softly.

To be continued...

[deadlykitten404]

ugh just got back from seeing Sinners and it was GORGEOUS. I adore music and this movie was such a love language to music in culture (especially since like 98% of music we have now in America originated from blues and other black-originated genres)

as someone who is not black I feel like other creators who are can and have phrased this much better than I can so I'm not gonna go speaking for anyone's culture, but as someone who hasn't experienced the culture first hand, Ryan Coogler did a wonderful job of portraying the complexities without being too.....overbearing? about it? like that's not the right word but he doesn't just go out and say "assimilation is bad and even other people who have felt oppressed can still be oppressors" but he was certainly not subtle about his messaging

genuinely I sobbed at the end. (heavy spoilers obvi) I really don't do good when the found family gets broken up. as soon as they started gathering people I knew almost none of them were making it out. but like...cornbread had his wife and kids. grace sacrificed herself so her undead husband wouldn't harm their child. smoke followed through on his promise to Annie even though you could SEE that part of him breaking when he did. slim acting on his promise to Sammie and luring the majority of the vampires to himself so they could have a better chance at getting away. ANNIES PROTECTION LITERALLY STOPPING STACK FROM BITING SMOKE. the scene with Annie and the baby??? killed me. literally from the moment Grace realized Bo was gone I was crying through the rest of the film. it was so good.

also, I ADORE folk music so much. both blues and Irish folk music so all of the backing music and pivotal scenes made me so excited. also I'm happy to finally have a version of Wild Mountain Thyme on Spotify that sounds the way my ren faire does it 😭😭

and I love vampires so much. literally my favorite supernatural guys. and it's so fun to see all the different ways that people use vampirism as symbolysm!! a lot of times you'll see it used as an allegory for sex (especially in medias that are meant towards a younger audience, like there are a handful of animes that do this), exploring the loss of autonomy in general is also fascinating, and especially in this case a very violent and direct representation of assimilation was SO GOOD. unfortunately remmick is exactly the type of stupid loser vampire boy I'd go for but in this case I'm trying to be like.....extra conscious of not falling into the Tumblr white boy of the month trap. yes the Irish faced their own issues with racism and yes there is some wiggle room for pity in his backstory, but he still didn't have like a good motivation. maybe if he was genuinely deluded and thought he really was saving everyone, but in that case he would have killed the klan couple instead of turning them first, but that clearly was not Coogler's intentions with him so im not gonna sit here and pretend it was.

also smoke taking out the KKK members singlehandedly was hot. all the talk about them being soldiers I'm glad we got to see it in action

[raynavan]

Hi recently i read ur fic "bat tunnels" and you mentioned you have thoughts but not enough to write more, and that readers are (and i quote) "free to poke me about it on my tumblr tho!"

i would like to hear the thoughts

Bat tunnels!! This is actually just one of the Many fics I have with Ingo turning into some sort of Pokémon- and by far the shortest haha. Even if that's only because I wasn’t sure how to handle the subsequent events. I have a Lot of fics I’m chipping away at atm 

(This turned into a bit more of a ramble than I was expecting. Whoops.) 

Anyway- big thing I wasn’t sure how to explain was why Ingo is a pokemon in the first place. Arceus knew that humans can’t travel through time and space very well, and Arceus didn’t want him to like. Forget everything a second time. But Pokémon are notably more hardy! So, turning Ingo into a Gliscor seemed like the best solution. 

It’s temporary but 'temporary' for a human and 'temporary' for a being that has lived since before time is Very Different (and maybe Arceus thinks being a Pokémon for a bit isn’t to bad)

Also, re the alpha status: being an alpha has more to do with being particularly experienced in battle/ a will to protect. so.

Arceus just thought “Oh, natural law says you would have become an alpha.” and thus Ingo was made into an alpha.

Alphas aren’t exactly born, though having a parent that is an alpha can increase the chances of becoming one. Just because being surrounded / raised by a really good / experienced fighter is a huge advantage. 

Ingo beats up kids for fun on the battle subway and is completely merciless in the paths of solitude. He is a Very experienced fighter in the technical sense, even if for a bit he struggles to harness that power. 

In that sense, Emmet was pretty spot on with assuming Ingo was a Gligar that evolved too soon. Not that Ingo actually evolved per se, but his situation is very much like giving a level 5 gligar 95 rare candies and a razor fang. Also he’s still getting used to his body.

(For the record, yes he knows earthquake.) 

On that note, Ingo probably. Would not be able to battle on the subway. Not without it being a very strong opponent. With his lack of skill, he has absolutely No Idea how to pull his punches. Also Emmet would feel verrrry uncomfortable putting him in a pokeball- Ingo feels similarly. 

Ingo’s gliscor might enjoy it after being tested and vaccinated though haha. Tho they might be busy assisting Ingo with being gliscor shaped himself. Especially when Ingo immediately tried to get back to work- not on the lines but administrative work. Unfortunately holding a pen is rather hard with pincers- and even harder when he struggles to adjust his grip strength. 

The carnage is vast. Many good pens were lost under the claws of a very embarrassed ingo. (Emmet appreciates the effort)

It is temporary though and he will be back to normal eventually. Emmet just has to be very careful about not mentioning that the weirdly large gliscor that followed him out of the tunnels is his brother. His reputation already took a hit after his brother’s initial disappearance- he doesn’t need them questioning his mental health about something he can’t prove. 

(Thankfully Ingo wants to stick by Emmet's side while he’s still in the shape of a gliscor- so usually it’s other people asking about him and Emmet just pointing or saying “this one” when referring to him. Ingo gets the nickname “Boss” for a bit! Both Ingo and Emmet find it funny.) 

once he’s human again Ingo still has a few habits left over- he looks exactly the same as he once did though. His hearing is better (back to normal human levels without the hearing loss he got working with heavy machinery) and he has a tendency to hiss/chirp to convey things. The last one there is actually just something he picked up after living alone in the mountains with a bunch of cat weasel things. His body language and movements are a bit off for a while, because he Just got used to dealing with a tail and wings and now he has to go back to human arms and legs. 

Overall things generally just. Go back to normal after a period of adjustment. Ingo and Emmet get to keep running the battle subway and gliscor is sometimes featured on the super singles line. 

That’s… all I can think of right now! Absolutely feel free to ask more specific questions! 

[familyvideostevie]

tlou season 2 episode 6 thoughts PART 2

this is in 2 parts bc tumblr hates me. part 1 here

this post is...the bad stuff. :)

spoilers for tlou hbo and tlou part ii below

EPISODE 6: THE PRICE

BAD -some folks call this a gee tar. my god I'm so sorry but this "southern accent" kills me like christ above -the more i think about joel making her the guitar instead of him finding it and giving it to her, the more it bothers me. yes, him making it is really nice. but in the game, he finds the guitar and fixes it up, but it already has the moth inlay on the fretboard. to me, the moth starts there. on something he finds and gives to her. and then she finds herself attached to it -- drawing it, getting it as a tattoo, etc. (i think there is some story about how they decided to have the tattoo and the guitar match later in the process but don't quote me there). in this way it's something joel brings into her life and she makes it her own but then it also is attached to him -- a symbol of death. poetic, right? but here, joel sees the moth in her drawings and then puts it on the guitar. it no longer has anything to do with him. it means death and he's worried about it. i just -- i don't like this. i think it undermines the entire symbol. -let's talk about the 17th birthday flashback. i hated every single second of this. every single second. i have imagined how we get from ellie living with joel to her living in the garage a million times. she suggests it, he doesn't know how to ask her to stay so he lets her go, etc. i did not imagine it as a punishment (this fits with the HBO version of ellie this season tbf but still). punishment for...joel being kind of homophobic???? like, okay, being a parent is hard or whatever, and she was smoking weed and getting a tattoo and fooling around, but. come ON. was that NECESSARY. and the way he doesn't apologize? i just. man, idk who this man is. the only thing i did like is how he will let her go into the garage if he fixes it up. i have written that myself in a fic, lol. but, christ! i hated all of this. how angry he is, how much distance is between them but about other things. -too many flashbacks in general??? why??? 15th birthday, 16th birthday, 17th birthday, 19th birthday, 19 and 9 months for the Night Before. the pacing of this episode was wack as fuck and frankly, after watching s2 of andor and seeing how they did a flashback heavy episode (210 if you're curious) successfully? its like, how did you make this so choppy! -ellie going on her first patrol at 19 does explain why she's a fucking idiot most of the time this season -eugene flashback...okay. i've written scenes like this -- what happens when someone is infected, what happens if they come back, how does the community handle it. the progression of infection being more rapid in the show makes this harder, obviously, but i just do not get what we are showing here. is this meant to remind us that joel is cruel? or that he has a capacity for mercy that is a little warped? (very look at the flowers coded iykwim). obviously this is meant to tie us back to salt lake and joel's choice and we're meant to question his choices and who he is doing them for. but he's following rules. his mistake is lying again to ellie. in the strings flashback (which is the closest one to this content-wise) he lies to her again but about the same thing. and he has the whole i know you wish things were different. i wish things were different. but they ain't. but here he is just lying again about more stuff. and frankly? i get why he lies to gail - he was laying it on a little thick, but. and then. GOD. ELLIE throwing a TANTRUM and making eugene's death ABOUT HERSELF. insane timing, insane use of i swore. also tommy being there -- is this meant to parallel the cold open? other people seeing what joel is capable of and calling him on it? just like. ugh ugh ugh ugh

-okay, deep breath. the porch scene. the promised porch scene. they had me in the first half, i can't lie. her reapproach, the way it starts, the coffee convo. and then. then it goes fucking off the rails. first of all, it felt like it was from joel's pov? which is a weird choice to me -- the framing and the focusing really put us with him emotionally rather than ellie. which i get, since the flashback starts in his pov. but this scene is about ellie. so the way they rewrote this -- they're combining the salt lake city flashback from the game where she cuts off their relationship two years ago and the porch scene in the game, where they finally come back together.

obviously that has to change since they've changed the timeline here. but instead we get joel crying out of guilt? for what? i know this joel is softer than game!joel but come on. all of his emotions and his dialogue in this scene are just so...manipulative parent? crying cause he's upset that he's hurt her, saying I'll pay the price because you're gonna turn away from me. and then all that shit about him loving her -- saying that he loves her in a way she can't understand. and making this about parents and kids -- and then quoting his dad???? i just don't get what this was doing.

i don't see how THIS ellie can possibly move from i don't need your fucking help to i was supposed to die to i want to try. to have the reveal of the hospital in the same conversation as her forgiveness -- or the hope of it. it's just such WEIRD PACING. and then for her to say the stuff she does the next morning about her and joel being her and joel, and all of that. it's such uneven emotional processing and while it retains the tragedy it's like. just not working for me.

So, overall, i see that a lot of the things i don't like do actually work in the context of the writing and characterization we've been given for the show. however i don't like either of those things most of the time, so! :) the immaturity, the explosive anger, joel's worry and helicopter parenting. i just -- i was so ready to be on board but like. why are critics saying this is one of the best episodes. it was like a speedrun of the most important pieces of context we get. so, yeah. man, fuck. I'm so mad i hated it so much. UGH.

[slt4kavanagh]

hello queen i’m here to give more requests

in your NSFW alphabet for Johnny you said that he was into being in control and choking and i need a full fic of that

maybe him and the reader have only had like soft sex and she one day she gives Johnny the “ok” to be a little rougher and more dominant

please i’m foaming at the mouth for him🙏🙏😁😁😁

switch it up

pairing: johnny kavanagh x fem!reader

tw: nsfw (18+), dominant!johnny, rougher sex (not even that bad compared to what’s on tumblr but still), choking (light, safe), praise + a hint of degradation, 

a/n: i heavily struggle writing smut so i hope this was okay

masterlist !

you’re in his room again. legs tangled. music low. your head on his chest, his fingers running slow circles into your back. it’s quiet in that way it always is with you two. comfortable.

“can i ask you something?” you say, voice quiet against his skin.

he shifts just a little, kisses your hair. “always.”

you hesitate. then:

“do you ever want to be rougher with me?”

his hand stops moving. he doesn’t speak right away. just tilts your chin up and meets your eyes.

“you’re not saying that just for me, right?”

you shake your head. “i’ve thought about it. i want you to. if you do.”

johnny just watches you for a second. eyes dark. jaw tight.

then, without a word, he rolls you onto your back.

“you tell me if it’s too much,” he says, voice lower than usual. “you nod, tap my arm, whatever you need.”

you nod. heart in your throat.

and then it’s like something in him shifts. the usual softness in his touch replaced by purpose. his hands grip your thighs. his mouth finds your neck. he doesn’t rush, but he doesn’t ask either — he just takes.

he pulls your shirt over your head, tugs your shorts down, doesn’t even pause when he slips his fingers between your legs.

“already wet,” he mutters, almost to himself. “fuckin’ knew it.”

he doesn’t say much else. just keeps that steady pressure, kissing you rougher now, biting a little when you whine.

when he finally sinks into you, it’s deep. slow, but heavy. you breathe out his name, and that’s when his hand wraps gently around your throat.

not tight. not scary. just a reminder: he’s in control.

“look at me,” he says. “wanna see what i do to you.”

you do. you meet his eyes and the intensity there is something new — and something you like way more than you thought you would.

johnny’s thumb slides down the curve of your throat, rests just below your jaw, soft pressure. you can still breathe easy, but your head’s swimming anyway.

he hasn’t moved in a minute. still buried inside you, holding you there like he’s got all the time in the world.

“you told me you wanted this,” he says, tone calm, almost casual — like he’s talking about dinner plans, not the fact that he’s got you pinned underneath him, desperate and breathless. “so now you’re gonna take it how i give it to you.”

your hips try to move. instinct. he smirks, barely shifts his weight to pin you deeper into the mattress.

“nuh-uh,” he murmurs. “not yet.”

your hands slide up his chest, clawing a little at the fabric still clinging to his back. you can’t think straight, not with how full you feel. and he’s just… waiting. like your need is something he wants to stretch out.

“johnny,” you whisper.

“what, baby?”

you meet his eyes. “please move.”

he raises a brow. “you asking or begging?”

your breath stutters. he’s smug, and he’s earned it.

you don’t answer right away, just look up at him — wide eyes, flushed skin, completely undone under the weight of him. and maybe that’s the answer, because he shifts his grip, hips pulling back just slightly.

and then—

he thrusts in, deep and slow, and your whole body arches up into him.

“fuck,” you breathe.

he groans, low and sharp, forehead dropping to yours. “that what you wanted?”

“yes,” you gasp. “please—”

“you get it now,” he says, speeding up. “you asked for this, didn’t you? you wanted to know what it feels like when i stop holding back.”

you can’t even form words anymore, just whimper and nod, nails digging into his back, barely able to keep your legs from shaking. he fucks you with focus, rhythm unrelenting but not careless — like he’s memorizing the way your body responds.

and you know he is. because it’s johnny. and he doesn’t do anything without paying attention.

“so fuckin’ tight,” he mutters against your neck. “you’re squeezin’ me like you don’t wanna let go.”

you cry out when he angles his hips just right, and his smirk returns.

“there it is,” he says. “right there, yeah?”

you nod furiously, too far gone to speak.

he keeps hitting that spot, pace brutal and steady, one hand still gripping your thigh while the other stays at your throat — just enough to make you dizzy with want.

and then he slows again, leans in, lips brushing yours.

“you gonna come for me, sweetheart?”

you barely choke out a yes, and he grins.

“not yet.”

you don’t know how long he keeps you there — teetering, shaking, one breath away from falling apart. he keeps fucking into you with maddening precision, drawing it out like it’s a game only he knows the rules to.

his grip on your thigh tightens. his hand around your throat never pushes too far, just holds you in place, thumb brushing your jaw like he’s checking you’re still with him.

and you are. barely.

“johnny—” your voice cracks. “i—i can’t—”

he leans down, kisses your cheek, soft contrast to the way he’s using your body.

“yes, you can. you’re takin’ it so fuckin’ well, baby.”

you shake your head, eyes glossy, body trembling underneath him. “please.”

he pulls back just enough to look down at you. flushed, wrecked, soaked. his girl.

“look at you,” he mutters, slowing his thrusts just slightly. “thought you liked it soft.”

“i do,” you breathe. “but i like you more.”

something flickers in his eyes — something proud. possessive.

“fuckin’ hell.” he presses his forehead to yours, breath hot. “you’re not tappin’ out yet, right?”

you shake your head.

he smiles. “good. ‘cause you’re not done.”

his hand slips down, fingers pressing where you need them most, and your back arches on instinct. it’s too much. it’s perfect. his cock deep inside you, his fingers rubbing tight circles, his voice in your ear telling you how good you’re being.

“c’mon,” he murmurs. “want you to come for me. now.”

your whole body locks up. the permission hits like a match to gasoline. and when it happens, it’s not quiet — it’s a sob, a cry, a desperate tangle of limbs and sound and johnny’s name on your tongue like a prayer.

he groans as you clamp down around him, thrusts stuttering. but he doesn’t stop. keeps fucking you through it, even as you writhe beneath him, gasping for air.

“that’s it,” he growls. “give it to me.”

you barely register the heat building again until it’s too late — another orgasm crashing through you before you’ve even come down from the first. this one rips a cry from your throat, hands clutching at him like you’ll fall apart if you let go.

and then, finally, he slows. breath ragged. hips faltering. he pulls out, strokes himself once, twice, and finishes across your stomach with a low, broken moan, body twitching above yours.

everything goes still.

for a second, the only sound is your breathing. both of you shaky. quiet. ruined.

then he leans down, presses a soft kiss to your lips. nothing rough about it.

“you okay?” he whispers.

you nod, lips barely moving. “yeah. just… holy shit.”

he huffs a laugh, already grabbing a towel to clean you up. “you’re insane.”

“you’re the one who did that to me.”

“and you asked for it.” he tosses the towel and pulls you into his chest. “but you’re mine, yeah?”

“always.”

your body’s still humming. nerves shot, muscles twitching, skin flushed and sticky with sweat. you’re not even sure what part of yourself to focus on first — the way your thighs ache, the tremble in your hands, the thud of your heart that hasn’t quite slowed.

johnny’s already moving, quiet but efficient. he kisses your forehead and pulls away just long enough to grab the towel, cleaning you up with the kind of care that almost makes you cry.

“easy,” he murmurs when you flinch, even slightly. “i got you.”

you nod, but your throat’s dry. everything feels too big — the room, the air, your own skin. like your body hasn’t caught up with what just happened.

“can you talk to me, sweetheart?” he says, voice low, checking in again.

you blink up at him. “m’okay. just… floaty.”

he smiles, gentle. “yeah? you were incredible. fuckin’ unreal.” he leans down, kisses your cheek. “but let’s get you cleaned up proper, yeah?”

he helps you sit up slowly, tugs his hoodie over your head again like you can’t do it yourself — which, right now, you honestly can’t. then he lifts you into his arms like you weigh nothing. carries you to the bathroom, one arm around your waist, the other under your thighs.

“you don’t have to—”

“shh,” he cuts you off. “you let me wreck you, baby. now you let me take care of you.”

he sets you down on the closed toilet lid while he runs the shower. checks the temperature three times. keeps looking back at you, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he looks away too long.

when it’s ready, he helps you in first. steps in behind you. you sag into his chest almost immediately.

his hands are slow now. soft. washing your hair, soaping your skin, kissing your shoulder when you lean your head back against him.

you don’t say much. don’t have to. your fingers stay curled around his forearm while his other hand moves gentle over your ribs, like he’s grounding you without making a big deal out of it.

“you did so good,” he whispers, mouth brushing your temple. “so fuckin’ good for me.”

“was a lot,” you murmur.

“i know. i saw. and you still gave it to me. proud of you.”

the words hit you harder than anything else tonight. your chest tightens, but not in a bad way. you just feel full — of him, of love, of safety.

after the shower, he wraps you up in a towel, carries you back to bed, and tucks you under the covers. doesn’t leave your side for a second.

he gets you water. makes sure you drink. slides in behind you and pulls you into him, arms wrapped fully around your waist, legs tangled with yours.

“you’re okay,” he says again, like a promise. “you’re with me.”

you nod against his chest. “i love you.”

he kisses the top of your head. “love you more, baby.”

[tomatette]

Chapter 1

Billy doesn’t wake with a start as you might think he would after what happened at the mall. 

The memories are still so very fresh. Pain, first and foremost. Sharp talons digging into the tender meat of his sides, piercing his flesh. His panicked nerves sending lightning strike after lightning strike of pure, unadulterated agony into his thalamus, from where it scattered like wildfire through his brain, sparking every circuit that knew how to scream.

And, oh, scream he did. Until his throat was raw and he could taste black bile on his tongue.

He knew, then, that this would be the end. Had known it from the moment he’d surfaced from the bottomless well he’d kept drowning in whenever the shadow took over, which was pretty much always.

But he just hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of the girl, who had touched his face so tenderly, to die the same gruesome death he’d condemned the others to.

He sees them all the time, it’s like their faces are burned onto the inside of his closed lids. Men, women, children. Every single one he had fed to the shadow. God, there are so many of them. And they are surrounding him, their mouths open in silent screams, their eyes full of fear and rage and hatred, cutting into him sharper than the monster’s claws ever had, tearing him apart.

And right in the front: Heather.

He cannot bear to meet her gaze. She’d been worried about him, and look what it had gained her.

But it’s not an entirely new development, that. All he’s ever done was hurt the people around him. Even before the shadow. Max. Her friends. Harrington.

A whine escapes his throat, tearing the soft tissue on its way out. He squeezes his eyes shut but the tears escape anyway, burning salty trails wetting the hair at his temples.

So no, he doesn’t wake with a start, but slowly, gradually. And, frankly, he thinks he shouldn’t be waking at all. Because by all rights he should be just as dead as them. Still, they are gone and he’s not. So he decides that, no, maybe he really doesn’t deserve to be dead. Death would be too easy. 

The first thing he feels is the sun on his face. Something he had never expected to feel again. A soft breeze caresses his face, slightly cooler where the tear tracks are drying.

Where is he? It can’t be the mall, but he has no recollection of getting out (but he remembers dying, remembers it vividly).

His lashes are clumped, his lids heavy when he tries to open his eyes and squints when painfully bright light drills a direct path into his brain, making his whole head throb and pulse. Bile floods his mouth, bitter and sharp, and he rolls over retching, curling in on himself.

A voice that sounds eerily like his father’s sneers: “Look at you, can’t even die like a man, huh? Spineless pussy.”

It doesn’t hurt like it used to, which, he supposes, is a good thing. And when he finally manages to open his eyes, it’s not Neil he’s seeing, but the gentle, smiling face of his mother.

“M-Mom?”

Soft, golden light surrounds her head like a halo, the wind plays with the sun bleached strands of her hair. It makes her look angelic. Ethereal. 

“My darling boy.” She cups his face, still smiling and his heart swells with emotions he can’t even begin to decipher, when suddenly her eyes turn sharp and her fingers dig into his cheeks, holding him still. “What a grave disappointment you are. Getting rid of you was the best decision I’ve ever made …”

And then she starts to laugh and Billy reels back, eyes wide in terror.

He wakes with a start.

*

I posted the full chapter on Ao3 but for registered users only. Please let me know if you want me to post the full chapter on tumblr too.

[bloodblanks]

writing tutoring

status: open for those interested in learning how to write (from your hopefully favourite fanfiction author) :3

author's note: skills taught may include but are not limited to nsfw content. all ages are welcome.

hi! i’m going to assume that you’re reading this post because you’re interested in learning how to write. if so, you’re in the right place! (if not, i’m not entirely sure why you’re reading this :sob:)

as you (probably?) know by now, i am a fanfiction author. i primarily write dark romance with heavy angst and smut. i am also currently studying for a certificate in creative writing. my credientials are not that impressive, but hopefully, you’ve read my work and decided that i am sufficiently skilled at my craft. if not, here’s my masterlist, i guess?

anyway, sorry for the excessive yapping. let’s get to the point...

i am now offering one-on-one tutoring services for those interested in learning how to write. i am able to work with all ages and skill levels, so everyone’s welcome! all you need is some basic interest in writing.

so, what can i even do?

i can:

brainstorm ideas with you

help formulate an outline for your work

give guidance on the actual writing process

analyze your work and provide feedback

discuss ways to improve your writing

teach you methods that i employ myself when writing

answer questions regarding writing, ie: plot, characterization, pacing, phrasing, etc

explain certain specifics of the genres i write, ie: how to best write a reader insert, second person pov, nsfw content, etc

and various other things along these lines...

i wanted to say that i tried outlining what a regular lesson would be like, but honestly, it would be completely dependent on the individual and their goals. if you are looking for elaborate feedback on your work, then that’s what we’ll do. if you want help structuring a plot and adding depth to your characters, then i’ll advise you accordingly. if you want to discuss your story ideas with me, then i’m more than happy to yap.

i am able to give lessons over video call, voice call, and even text for those uncomfortable with calls.

and lastly, pricing!

a standard tutoring session will be an hour long, at the rate of 15EUR/session.

however, you can also pre-purchase packages for:

40EUR/3 sessions.

65EUR/5 sessions.

for those interested, please send me a dm here (on tumblr) or add me on discord: bloodblanks (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ and if anyone has any questions, feel free to send in an ask or message me privately.

thank you for reading! ♡

[allylikethecat]

EQUESTRIAN AU

okay I’m now begging you to actually write this

No pressure but at this point it’s a need not a want.

Also I loved the AnE fic sooooo much. It actually made my week anytime I got to read a new chapter. I hope you continue with the infection verse

YES THERE ARE NOW THREE OF US AT THE EQUESTRIAN AU PARTY!

After essentially outlining the entire thing in my head today while riding my own horse, I think that I will be writing something related to it sooner rather than later. I'm so glad that the idea of Fictional!Matty and a horse is exciting to more than just myself. Because HORSES!

Also thank you so much for reading the A&E fic! I'm so glad to hear that you enjoyed it and were looking forward to the updates! It might take a little bit because I have so many (too many) other projects going, but I do have a few more visits to the Infection 'verse planned! The big ones at the moment are: Baby!Gatty getting together for the first time in between chapters one and two of the A&E fic, Fictional!Matty following his hospitalization in chapter eight and how he is adjusting, and finally, I really want to write the first Christmas after Fictional!Matty and Fictional!George get back together - because in the A&E fic Fictional!Matty makes the choice to go to rehab on Christmas Eve, so I'm sure in that universe the holidays are an emotional time for him. I have my own weird emotions to work through around the holiday season as well, so I think dealing with that via fictional!Matty will be great - I can get all my angst our and then you lovely readers will get to enjoy the angst!

Anyway, thank you so much for reading and for your continued support! I hope you like my next projects, whatever they maybe!

❤️Ally

[technically-human]

EEEEE!! I love your stobotnik art sm! If ur open to it id love to see some more art of the pair interacting with themselves/each other in the future? 👉👈

Anyways, (eats ur art)

Stone has some regrets and Robotnik is learning some stuff

ko-fi

[multiheadcanons]

MEMES AND TRAITS THE MERCS STOLE FROM SCOUT AND POORLY USE TO PISS HIM OFF

soldier: soldier started calling everything a “glizzy” after he heard scout say it exactly once. he was eating a hot dog and said “damn this glizzy is perfectly dressed.” he did not get it, he did not care enough to ask what that meant. he just started calling everything a glizzy. rockets? glizzy. ammo? glizzy. the medigun, fully charged and primed for an ubercharge? “HIT ME WITH THAT GLIZZY, DOC!” this was the beginning of the end with scout, once he got past the white knuckled shock of hearing that man say glizzy way too many times to the wrong things.

pyro: pyro eats up a whip and nae nae, no lie. they saw scout do it after a successful push of the payload, and everyone looked at scout weird, but pyro registered that smile, and those movements and committed it to heart. on the next battle, pyro physically dragged scout to a location near the edge of the map, and made a motion to stay still and watch. it freaked scout out until pyro air blasted one, two, three, four of the opposing team off the map; and after the fourth’s screams were cut short from hitting the bottom; they turned slowly to scout, and hit a whip. it’s the only time scout actually laughed. “yeah, get that shit pyro!”

demo: everything scout knows demo knew well before him, it just never came through right with his accent. but when scout started dapping people up demo was ALL IN for that. always brings scout in way too hard and knocks the wind out of him and stings his hands. “you’re not doing it right, lad! like this!” scout never wants to complain because it feels cool to get dapped up by someone he also thinks is cool, though he doesn’t want to admit that. scout does not want demo dapping up anyone else though because they’re not cool enough, except heavy he’s got no opinion on that because it’s funny to watch demo get the wind knocked out of him.

engineer: engineer hits that “gyat DAMN” often because of his accent. scout is convinced he’s using it wrong, that pisses engie off because it’s literally his accent and scout can get the fuck over himself he’s not from the first generation that made up language. sometimes to piss him off he’ll say skibidi toilet with no actual context to go around it. and scout hates that bc he hates skibidi toilet. also an enjoyer of the dap even when heavy and demo practically lift him off his feet with it.

heavy: heavy will dap people up. he loves it. makes him feel like he’s getting closer with his team. will always end a dap by pulling them in for a brief, yet crushing hug. everyone eats it up, laughing after they catch the breath he forcibly removed from their lungs and patting his arm or back, whatever the recipient can reach. also loves to say rizz, it makes his teeth vibrate in a good way. “doctor, you are a rizz master!” “demoman, keep rizzing your weapons!” “i LOVE my weapons rizz!” he doesn’t know if he’s using it right, scout just wholeheartedly assures him he’s using it right.

medic: medic heard scout say something fucks once. now, for him, EVERYTHING fucks. he himself DEFINITELY fucks. he assumed it’s a good thing. there was one time in the throes of battle, he managed to catch scout to heal him, and used the speed boost he got from it to catch up and yell over the din “you’re FUCKING today, scout!” and scout jumped his ass about how he’s not even using it right and he never wanted to hear that again. unfortunately, the doctor is a hellish bastard who loves pissing people off, so now everything does indeed fuck. he definitely fucks. “oh, my medigun? ja, that fucks. and i fuck too.” “doc, nobody wants to hear what you’re fucking, dude”. pissed scout off more when he and soldier were ubered, running into battle, and soldier said very confidently “your glizzy tops ALL OTHER GLIZZIES” and medic responded, making direct eye contact with scout in the heat of battle; “ja, my glizzy fucks.”

sniper: snipes dabbed twice in the privacy of his own nest to see how it felt and couldn’t get over his own shame that he did that. he did it twice because he alternated arms to see if it felt less stupid to do it the other way. it didn’t. he will never bring himself to do that again. that was embarrassing. has a dreadful feeling the other teams sniper saw him do it. sometimes after a really good kill streak he’ll do a small dab as a treat. he does unironically use “deadass”

spy: anything that will piss scout off spy is happy to do. spy has used words he knows does not exist to confuse scout as to the current slang going around. he’ll have scout on the internet desperately searching words that not only don’t exist, but he can’t even spell, just to make sure spy isn’t a step ahead of him. but spy is always two steps ahead of him. spy will say shit just to feel the bostonians eyes burn holes in the back of his skull, only to turn to him and say “what, you’ve never heard that before? look it up!” then hides in his room to watch him desperately search a word he can’t even spell. unironically uses “deadass” because he heard snipes say it once and it wriggled its way into his mind like a worm. he says it after like… everything.

[yhwcomeback]

how's cole's poster going? i haven't see you draw him recently, so i'm pretty excited to see how you design him (^.^)

I think I posted a sketch not long ago on twitter, I had do re-do all of the designs because I really didn't like how the hair was at first, and took me a while to get it where I wanted. Right now I'm stuck on the Possesion - Day of the Departed era, because I really want that part in specific to look good since it's a character development for him. I'm ngl it's really hard to get on the mindset of drawing these lol, probably will get to it next weekend because of Brazilian Carnaval lasts 5 days, so I can work on it without issue, I think that's what I did last year too.

[darewolfcreates]

mmm... many thoughts...

[mysecretwindowuniverse]

Nygmobblepot Text Meme