#there are a lot of nice pictures and things

[deerspherestudios]

This is not a question but an apology :(

Hello. I wanted to sincerely apologize for sharing a video with Mychael generated by AI. I deeply respect and admire your work, and Mychael holds a very special place in my heart. Your art has been a source of comfort and inspiration for me, especially during difficult times, and I truly appreciate all the care and creativity you put into your creations. My intention was never to claim the video as my own or to make you uncomfortable in any way. I made sure to clarify that it was an AI-generated video, but I now realize it may have been inappropriate, and I am very sorry for any upset this may have caused. I won’t make this mistake again. Thank you for creating something so meaningful; it really means a lot to me.

And I know it's already very late but happy Halloween :(, I'm really sorry

Hello! I've already responded to your comment on the post but I'll answer again so everyone knows it's been cleared up. Your message has been very sweet and reminds me not everyone uses AI with ill intent, I'll keep my mind open regarding issues like this one for the future!

And honestly, thank you for reaching out! I really appreciate the consideration after expressing my concerns <3 I'm glad you were willing to understand; these sorts of things usually go unaddressed completely that I didn't want to bother with it initially. But this was a really nice gesture.

You might be one of the few who's wiling to learn from a mistake, and for that I appreciate it. Also, if you were the one that drew the picture, it's really good!! Lil pumkin head Mychael <3 I'd rather receive that than something AI generated!! <3 /gen

[mikkomacko]

Mob Movember

Mob Boss Nico x reader

A/n: just a little something inspired by the diva pictured above x

~~~~~~~

“So that’s like gonna be a thing now?”

Nico’s eyebrows pinch together, eyes finding yours in the bathroom mirror and he pauses, razor half way to his face and warm water running from the faucet.

“What do you mean?”

You shrug and he blinks, looking back at his reflection and biting his bottom lip to pull it taut. Then he’s dragging his razor over a smear of shaving cream on his chin, dipping the razor back into the sink to rinse it.

“You shaved a lot this week,” you decide to say, “and yet you always skip the space above your lip.”

Nico bristles at that, a petulant pout glaring at you through the mirror and you try not to laugh at him after indirectly insulting his mustache. It’s not that you hate it per se, it just looks different on him. He’s still cute, you’ll give him that. It’s impossible for him to ever not be attractive, but the mustache doesn’t have the same sexy appeal his beard does.

“Didn’t know I had to explain the concept of a mustache to you.”

“Ouch,” you hold a hand over your heart. “Mean and mustache-y.”

A sigh of annoyance huffs out of his nose, and he shakes his head just once before going back to cleaning up his jawline. “Go away,” he says, but you linger a minute longer to watch him finish shaving, eyes following the bend of his waist when he leans over to rinse off any left over bits of shaving cream.

Giving yourself a moment to appreciate his ass in those light blue jeans he wears all the time, you wonder off before he can look back in the mirror and still see you there.

~~~~

“Not you too!”

Timo frowns, looking around curiously as he slides into the passenger seat. He’s wearing an overly thick puffy coat and those stupid 5 inch inseam shorts from Lululemon that all the boys except Nico wear (much to your dismay) and you were gonna tease him about whether he’s hot or cold but the sight of his face has changed your plans.

“What?” He closed the door, immediately warming his hands in front of the vents.

“Is there like a mustache epidemic going around? What is wrong with you and Nico?”

You saw Timo yesterday, and while he had more stubble than he usually does, you didn’t think he’d be shaving it off into a mustache too. It’s been three long days of trying to get Nico’s new look to grow on you and no matter how times you kiss him, feel the scratch of his freshly shaved cheeks, it’s still not the same. You don’t like the way it tickles your upper lip but not your chin, and you don’t really like the way that you can’t kiss his nose anymore without feeling it.

But you’re trying and it’s hard. Even harder now that your bestie has apparently jumped on the train too.

“You don’t like them?” He asks, not offended but curious. You side eye him, pulling away from the curb and making your way towards the yoga studio.

“Is that why Nico is pouting?” He laughs, clicking his seatbelt. He rubs at his lame excuse of a mustache and you mentally give Nico credit for that. At least he can actually grow a really nice one, not that you’re going to say that to Timo.

“He’s pouting?”

“Uh yeah,” he scoffs, “he’s moped every day this week, Sieges said they’ve been having to talk to clients and stuff because he gets moody right away.”

You cringe, feeling a little bad about the whole thing. You didn’t mean to make Nico feel bad or like you don’t like his mustache. Yeah you don’t love it, but he’s Nico -your Nico -and everything about him is always so beautiful.

“I may be struggling to enjoy it,” you explain hesitantly, “I just am not used to it and he’s never been a mustache guy. Maybe like a day or two but he always shaves.”

“Oof,” Timo laughs, “yeah you probably hurt his feelings. Literally his biggest flex is that you think he’s so pretty.”

Groaning painfully, you thump your head against the steering wheel before pouting up at the red light. You’ve always Nico to be a sensitive person, not in a bad way or anything. He’s just never hid or pushed down feelings when it came to you, and it physically makes you ache to think that your reaction to his new facial hair made him so insecure he didn’t want to tell you.

You’ve got some major Nico loving to make up for.

~~~~

Nico is sat in the Devils booth of The Rock, hunched over the scheduling iPad as the boys mill around the bar. Jesper and Jonas are actually working it looks like, Jonas holding a ladder that has the smaller of the two men perched at the top, Jesper screwing in a new security camera. He’s got Mercer and Alex stocking the bar, and you almost laugh at the overly straight and organized bottles on Mercer’s side compared to haphazardly placed ones on Alex’s.

The Hughes boys are doing something they’re probably not suppose to be doing on the upper level, no where to be seen but definitely heard.

Timo parts from you to go join Jesper and Jonas, who look like they could use it by the way Jesper is trembling on the top rung.

You approach the booth, setting the lunch you brought for Nico onto the table alongside your greens smoothie. He looks up at you when you drop your jacket into the seat, eyes following your movement when you slide in next to him.

“Hey,” he mumbles, and something melancholy settles in the air. A bittersweet smile tugs at your lips, your heart throbbing when you take in the dejected look in his big brown eyes and the way he’s pouting.

“Hi,” you greet, reaching up brush his hair away from his face. Then you hold his cheek, brushing your thumb over the scar on his cheekbone. “I brought you lunch.”

He doesn’t bother to look interested. “Thanks baby.”

“I like your mustache,” you say quietly, tenderly pressing your thumb into the hinge of his jaw where you know he gets headaches from clenching. Like its second nature he relaxes, melting into the feeling.

“No you don’t,” he insists, licking at his pouting lips. “S’fine-“

“I do, I do like it Nico. It’s just different and I was teasing because I’m not used to it.”

Nico blinks, fluttering those stupidly pretty eyelashes at you and then two dimples sink into his cheeks. “Yeah?”

Giggling, you cup the back of his head and draw him closer to you. “You know you’re always handsome, no matter what.” You kiss him before he can say anything else, smiling when his hair scratches at your cheeks and lip.

Nico hums, reaching around to grip your hip and pull you until you’re half sitting in his lap. Then he melts back into the booth, sighing contently.

“Would you two get a room, Jesus fuck.”

You peck Nico’s lips one more time for good measure before pulling back, curling into his side and he slips his arm around you.

Nico reaches for his food, and you bite your lip to keep from laughing. The Hughes brothers have made their way down the stairs, and Mercer and Alex have abandoned the bar in favor of crowding around you and Nico.

Which in itself is a little scary, but add the thin and scraggly mustaches they all have is even worse. Desperate for a distraction, you scramble to grab your juice and take a sip, casting a glance over at Nico who’s smirking proudly. He shares a knowing look with you.

“Why are you making that face?”

You look at Jack, forcing yourself to only look in his eyes as you clear your throat. “What face?”

He points an accusing finger at you. “That face, why are you laughing?”

“M’not.”

“You are, Holtz tell her she is.”

Alex looks around helplessly and you do giggle when you realize his poor mustache is nothing but peach fuzz. “Ok now she’s laughing.”

Steadying yourself, you force your smile down. “I love this new look you all have going on.”

Almost immediately they all groan, offended and outraged and you can’t even listen to them. Hunching over into Nico’s shoulder you cackle, tears springing up in your eyes and stomach aching.

You can feel him chuckle, one hand rubbing at your back to calm you down. Finally you peel yourself off of him, wiping at your wet eyes as the boys glare at you.

“Don’t be mean, it’s for a good cause.” Mercer defends.

“What cause?”

“Movember,” Jack states proudly, “it was Nico’s idea. Good cause and we all bond over our shared ‘staches.” He strokes over his lame excuse of a mustache and Luke cringes, cheeks tinting pink.

You look to Nico. “This was your doing?”

He looks utterly pleased with himself, shrugging nonchalantly but there’s a twinkle of mischief in his features. The sight makes you giddy. What has he been up to?

The other three boys wonder up behind the rest, and you cackle again at the blonde patch of hair on Jesper’s lip and the razor burn on Jonas’s chin. Offended, they frown at you.

“S’like our new tradition,” Jesper says but it sounds more like a question as he examines Nico.

Your boyfriend beams at you. “Like last year we did no nut November,” he explains, and you roll your eyes. You hated that stupid challenge between them, and if you recall correctly, they all did too.

“Yeah and you lost,” Timo mocks, glancing at you because you know all too well why Nico lost. And Nico knows too because you can’t for the life of you keep a secret from him.

“Hey you all cried to y/n to make me lose,” Nico argues, and Timo’s mouth drops open.

“Traitor!” Jesper gasps, pointing at you. “You weren’t supposed to tell him we came to you.”

“Hey the only loyalty I have is to him,” you jab your thumb in Nico’s direction. “And his dick.”

Nico’s smirk grows, shuffling in his seat as he accepts the compliment from you. “You all went crying to her about how dry November was making me mean. And that’s why I lost.”

“Should’ve known to never trust a temptress,” Jack mutters, glaring at you. Offended, you glare back.

“Well you can’t a grow a mustache,” you hiss, “in fact none of you can. That dirt smear on your lip looks like it took twenty years to grow Jack.”

He clutches his heart, offended and looks to Nico for help. Nico takes a sip of your smoothie, gesturing for them to leave. “M’on her side. Get back to work, all of you.”

They grumble, stalking away from the table and muttering to each other as they return to their assigned jobs for the day. Shuffling, you turn to Nico.

“You’re so mean for letting them walk around like that.” You giggle quietly, and Nico snickers.

“You should see the update selfies they’ve been taking,” he whispers, pleased with himself. “Think I’ll make a collage of them and hang them in the office before I tell them it was all a joke.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this was to get back at them for last year?”

He shrugs. “You were so fucking good to me after they whined last year that I wanted it to be a surprise. And was it a good one, or what?”

You laugh again, flashing back to seeing them all standing around you earlier, so proud of their matching mustaches.

“It’s kind of cute,” you mumble thoughtfully, laying your head on his shoulder. “They all wanted to be like you.”

Nico hums in agreement. Then he’s sliding the iPad to you. “Look this over, yeah? Make sure I’ve got the schedule and times right for Thanksgiving.”

He’s so sweet, you think, looking over the calendar he’s filled in. Even when he’s fucking around and embarassing the boys, he’s given them slack for almost the whole month. And he’s even written in the day off for Friday after Thanksgiving. Instead a big red heart is drawn on the day and in his perfectly slanted handwriting is written “Family Sleepover”.

“Looks good,” you agree, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “But the mustaches have to go by Thanksgiving. I am not having those in any photos.”

“Yes ma’am.”

[cakesexuality]

I take stuffed animals in public sometimes and find that people almost always either pretend they're not there or are excited to see them!!

On Thursday night, I took my newest stuffed animal, a cat named Blinx, out with me when I went trick-or-treating at the mall in my cat onesie. He only got comments when people at the stores thought he was cute!! Blinx also came with me to a medical procedure a couple weeks ago where a nurse told me that everyone in the hallway on the way to the procedure room were talking about how cute Blinx is. That nurse and the doctor both asked his name, which is always a green flag.

Last year, I had surgery and brought along my turkey, Ulana, who I got specifically for bringing to the hospital that day. When I asked a nurse what to do with Ulana, I was expecting to hear either "Oh you can leave her in your room" or more specifically "You should put her in your bag" but instead I got "Do you want me to ask if you can bring her to the OR?" so I got to bring her all the way to the OR and she got compliments from a couple nurses. When I woke up in the recovery room, Ulana was wearing my mask with the ear loops around her wings.

I went to a con a couple months ago and brought my bear, Ellie, with me. I paid for photo ops with a couple special guests, and Rock M Sakura from RuPaul's Drag Race asked my bear's name then said "It's nice to meet you, Ellie!"

A couple years ago, I had to go see an ophthalmologist, and I was getting upset during the pre-tests with the ophthalmic assistant (NOT from anything she did or said) so I got out my stuffed animal I had brought that day, Brock. The ophthalmologist came in and started asking me questions like what Brock is called and how he came to be called that, so I told him Brock came with that name and a short bio stating he plays football and wants to be a nurse when he grows up. On my way out, the doctor said "I'm glad you and Brock came in today!"

This past summer, I went to see a pride parade and brought my bunny, Vibri!! I don't think she got any comments or acknowledgement. I held her the entire time I was there and brought along one of my tiny rainbow flags but I almost brought the tiny bi flag I have for her, since Vibri is a bisexual icon.

I did once get asked to put a stuffed animal away, a small bulldog named Butch, but that was because I was having an echocardiogram and the tech was afraid of getting ultrasound gel on him, and I got to keep Butch in my hand because I said I was okay with getting gel on him since he was old and had been through a lot already

No picture for Butch

If people stare at me for my stuffed animals, I don't notice. I only ever pay attention to when they say positive things about my stuffed animals.

I’m not the first to say this but I really wish it were normalised for adults to carry around comfort objects like stuffed animals

[marvelfanfics1]

Scary Admirer

Pairing: dark!daddy!rafe x kook!little!reader

Warnings: age regression, dark themes, murder, stalking, reader is naive

A/N: not sure if I like this 😭 but omg thank you sm for 4,3k followers 🥹🫶🏻

Rafe laid eyes on you two months ago when he spotted you at a party, admiring you dance and twirl in your pastel colored dress, two small bows decorating your simple hairstyle.

You seemed so soft, such a contrast to his appearance and personality which is the reason he felt so drawn to you in the first place.

In that very night he introduces himself to you, putting on his charming smile as he holds out his hand. "Rafe Cameron, nice to meet you..." He trails off and you tell him your name with an adorable smile, shaking his hand.

He repeats your name in a murmer, testing it on his tongue.

Since then he made it his mission to get to know you more, not that you already share practically everything with him because you feel like you can trust him.

Your friends keep warning you to stay away from him, saying that the kook prince is bad news and that you should be wary of him.

Despite your better judgement you think that they just don't really know him, I mean he's so nice to you since the beginning and there must be a reason he shows that certain side of him to you only.

You like Rafe and you both start getting closer, spending time with each other but you're just friends doing things they normally do, right?

Oh if only you knew his true intentions.

Rafe studies everything you do, your routines, appointments, the people you surround yourself with and he goes furious anytime he sees you talking to a pogue, especially if it's a man, you being your usual bubbly self while that prick keeps staring at your chest shamelessly.

He often has to protect you as he claims, scolding you for being too trusting with everyone and suggest that you should stay near him for your own safety.

When the news of recent killings in Kildare goes around about witnesses who saw a person completely dressed in black and wearing a ghostface mask leaving the crime scenes, you started to not leave your house as much as before, avoiding going out after it gets dark.

The thing that scares you the most is that you have some kind of connection to every person that has been killed.

Since those deaths you've been regressing a lot more due to the fear and stress that comes with anytime you turn on your tv or scroll on your phone because no one can stop talking about it.

It took Rafe three weeks to find out about your age regression, only able to confirm his suspicion after you started inviting him over more often and he got the possibility to go through your room whenever you left to either go to the bathroom or get something.

He went through everything.

Your drawers where he found a certain one that only held more childish clothes with different prints and all in pastel colors.

Under your bed where he found a box decorated with stickers and took a peek of its contents, a smirk forming on his face when he sees a set of pacifiers, coloring books and crayons, stickers, and a bottle.

"Interesting..." He mutters, quickly pushing the box back under your bed when he hears your footsteps approaching the room again.

One evening you lay on your stomach on your plush bed and coloring contently in your hello kitty books with some crayons sprawled around, not knowing about the dark figure looming in your yard and watching you through your window.

Rafe smiles as he sees you reaching under your bed to retrieve a pacifier from your secret box, slipping it into your mouth.

He pulls out his phone, his mask and knife held in his other hand as he snaps a few pictures of you.

You're blissfully unaware of your supposed friend being literally outside, too engrossed in your littlespace.

Outside Rafe sees you getting up from your bed and over to your attached bathroom, closing the door behind you. That was his chance.

Rounding the house to the front door he crouches down for the spare key that he knows is hidden under the mat.

After finishing your night routine in the bathroom you open the door again, yawning as you approach your bed, stopping in your tracks at the printed out pictures laying on your bed.

Taking a better glance at them your heart beats faster when you realize they're all pictures of you...some where you're in your room, others from when you were walking around Kildare or at parties, and what made your stomach drop was the ones where you obviously were in littlespace.

"Nice shots, don't you think?" A sudden low distorted voice from behind you has you freezing and before you could react, a hand clamped over your mouth, a broad chest pressing against your back. "Shh, shh, none of that."

You whimper in fear, instinctively reaching up to grasp onto the arm that was holding you against the stranger.

"I've been watching you for a while now, y'know. Tell me, isn't it tiring to take care of yourself? To know that no one will be good enough to be your daddy?" He asks and you feel tears pricking in your eyes. "All those idiots I got rid of just because they didn't know how to treat someone as special as you..."

Your muffled pleading makes him chuckle, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

"Imma let go of you now, but don't try and think of anything stupid, got it?" He warns you, his hold on you a little firmer and you nod shakily. "Good girl."

He takes off his mask, throwing it on the bed before he pulls his hand away, taking a step back. Even if you wanted you wouldn't get out a single sound, too afraid to even move.

The you so thought stranger places a hand on your shoulder, slowly turning you to face him and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach at who's standing in front of you. "R-Rafe?"

You take a hesitant step back, the back of your knees hitting your bed. "I- I don't understand...wha-"

"I know, but you don't need to worry." He speaks softly, stepping closer and reaching a hand up to trace the side of your face with his fingers, grabbing your chin to tilt your head up slightly to meet his gaze, a smile creeping on his face.

He gently wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb, leaning down to kiss your forehead, the action meant to be comforting but the words that leave him do the opposite.

"Daddy's here now..."

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[mothiir]

What shenanigans do you think lion and leman get up to when they smell their woman ovulating

i’m sorry anon did you ask me to write yet another list of ‘primarchs react to’?

yes, thought you did! here is an incomplete list of ‘primarchs reacting to their lady ovulating’. all of these, apart from roboute, are pre-heresy.

roboute guilliman - starting off strong. This man smells that you are fertile and immediately checks and triple checks that your implant is functioning and that there is no chance that you are getting pregnant. No babies. Not now. Maybe when he has a farm, in a few hundred years. But nope, not now. If things are bad in the imperium at that moment, his ‘can’t be a dad’ anxiety might spike to the point where he doesn’t even want to put his penis near you. He sticks out one knee — still encased in his holy armour — and is like okay rub on that while I finish up this paperwork, you have forty five minutes.

the lion - his sex ed came in two batches: one from observing wild animals, and two from observing some very homosexual knights. He isn’t exactly the expert on the female reproductive cycle. However, he does the best he can, extrapolating from how female lions acted in the forest of Caliban. When they were fertile, they badgered the males for sex constantly, and seemed very distressed when they weren’t being serviced. In his infinite wisdom, he decides that human woman are probably the same, and proceeds to put you on your back at least five times a day. You whinge less than normal (mostly because you are almost comatose with exhaustion) so he counts this as a success.

leman russ - unlike the lion (and indeed most of his brothers) he has had considerable experience with female humans before he met you, so he knows exactly what to do. Yes, he does buy into some stereotypes — you are a little hornier than normal, maybe, but you’re certainly not the insatiable sex goddess he starts treating you like — but his heart (and dick) are in the right place. He may even start hinting about hey do you want pups? Maybe? Just one or two? His dirty talk takes on a distinctive feral tone. Lots of talking about how pretty you’d look with his pups in you. Don’t worry, he’ll calm down eventually.

horus - will hide your birth control. Best bet is to be conveniently absent for this week of your cycle. He’s going to start whining. Ignore him — he’s a big boy, and despite his painted insistence, primarchs do not have a genetic anomaly that makes blue balls fatal.

konrad - he sniffs you more than normal, which is saying something because he sniffs you a lot. Tells you that you smell unbearably revoltingly sweet and he hates it. No, you may not leave his chambers, he wants you to stay here so he can put up with the awful-delightful fecund reek. That’s a direct quote by the way; the man has a way with words. Like Roboute, he is pretty fanatical about not wanting children, so he isn’t going to take any risks. You will end up with a very sore jaw as he makes you swallow the little Night Haunter morning noon and night to take the edge off.

lorgar — look, he knows you’re not going to go around spreading your legs for his legion, he knows that you’re a good chaste girl who only wants him, but you smell so wonderful, and you’re all rosy with health, and his sons —- well, his sons are lovely, but they’re still men. And what chance do men have against the divine? No, you stay in your rooms nice and snug, and he will tell you when you have finished that bit of the cycle and can leave. Until then, he’ll keep you occupied. Partly with sex. Mostly with reading scripture he’s written about how said sex is a divine offering to his Father.

ferrus - meat-woman smell of weak human hormones. vile. must purge woman best way iron hand know how: insertion of the iron co —

fulgrim - writes you the most gorgeous flowery poetry and presents it to you along with an eight foot picture that is designed to ‘celebrate your delightful womanhood’. It is beautiful, in the way that all his art is, but you’ll admit that you don’t quite ‘get’ this one. It’s vaguely in the shape of a uterus, in shades of purple and gold, and — is that a penis? He will then proceed to make you forget your own name, so thankfully your opinion on said art piece is never asked.

[soodoonimin]

Logan Howlett and animal instincts (or in other words my long winded analysis of a comic book character)

So before I start, just know that I have read a lot of comics but I don't know everything. I can take notes all day long but I have a bad memory and comics are confusing so please be nice and enjoy, this took a lot of effort to put together, it’s mostly my thoughts on the character as I read the the comic books. The movie character is a lot different and I will also probably do something like this for movie Logan as well (though it will be significantly shorter).

Also there are some pictures that have blood and body horror so beware.

What does it mean to be human? Well that's a question we as humans have been trying to answer since we could think to ask it and ever since then we've never been able to give a fully conclusive answer. Why? you may ask, well because think about it like this, the traits we most often associate with humanity (higher thinking, creativity, empathy, and love) may not and some times do not always exists solely within us when applied to fiction, we write whole stories about how robots can be human too, how aliens can be human etc etc as long as they have these traits (more or less) AND LOOK I'm not going to get into a whole philosophical discussion about the nature of humanity on Tumblr.com but I do want to take a second to talk about how those traits are applied to Logan and how he has to fight to prove his humanity.

So mutants are an oppressed people but being a mutant isn't always the same for everyone. You can be a mutant like Rouge who can kill people with a single touch or mutant like Storm who can bend the weather to your will (the most obvious example). You can be a mutant like Jean with no obvious physical signs of your mutation or you can be a mutant like Kurt, where 9/10 people think you’re a demon of some kind.

But what happens when you're a mutant like Logan Howlett? I mean you look human enough, sure you're a little more hairy than most people, you have fangs, you smell, and oh yeah the claws but those are retractable so overall....you're just a normal person right? Nothing you can’t hide, right? Yeah, for the most part, yeah. But there are a couple of other things about you that someone might not know from looking at you, you have an extraordinary healing factor, you have almost animal like senses and when you are pushed to your absolute brink you go into a monstrous like a rage and kill everything in sight.

For every gift Logan was born with theres a very real curse attached to each one.

Healing Factor: Logan still feels pain, the healing factor isn’t just limited to his body but it also messes with his memories, and more importantly he’s lived a very long life. In The End comic and Old Man Logan comic etc, when he’s out lived most of the world, he’s miserable.

Keen senses: Seems great, until they’re exploited, imagine what being able to smell and see and hear that well all the time without relief must be like. Imagine not being able to tell when someone is going to die? Or when they’re lying or when they haven’t showered etc. sure you might get used to it like you might get used to pain but that doesn’t make it pleasant.

Claws: Need to really touch on this one? Aside from the obvious please remember that Logan’s claws aren’t in his knuckles but in his fucking forearms so when using them he needs to make an effort to direct them or….

Berserker rage: great to get you out of a pinch but you can’t control it. (We’ll talk more about this later)

Most people don’t see these very real downsides of Logan’s mutation, they just see a small, angry guy, who’s good at fighting and can take a hit better than almost anyone.

Here’s what worse, a lot of people (X-men included) don't see, they don't all the ways Logan hates himself (and those who do don’t see the depths of that hate he has for himself). They don't see the scared little boy whose father was killed in front of him. They don't see that little boy who killed his father's murderer and was abandoned by all but one person for one person (Rose). They don't see the young man who accidentally killed his first love while trying to protect her from his brother. They don't see the man who lived a relatively miserable life being plucked up by a group of people who only saw him as something to be experimented on. They don’t see the man who believes that if he loves someone he's destine to hurt them in one way or another because he has multiple times over (even if it wasn’t always his fault). They don’t see that for all the times that they call Logan an animal, he already believes them and he’s called himself worse many times over.

(Deep down he truly believes he deserves be to alone, especially in death. That would be his “deserved” hell. Eternal loneliness.)

Which is funny because I think Logan goes back and forth in deciding on whether or not he has any humanity in him in the first place. See in the Black, White and Blood comic, the FIRST story told in this series, is an account of Logan’s time at Weapon X and we get this…interaction:

Pourquoi tu me fais ça?///Why are you doing this to me? This "monster" asks him this on the cusp of death....

(Moments during the Weapon X program, be they real memories or not, when Logan’s humanity shone through)

And THIS almost immediately snaps him out of mind control he's under going. I don't know if he understood the words per say but I think even if he didn't, he still understood the plea on a human level. Because it wasn’t Weapon X who responded, it wasn’t the berserker, or Wolverine. It was Logan Howlett. It was a moment of humanity that broke the conditioning he’d been put through that answered that plea and stopped him. Because if you think about it, if these two memories actually are real, that means that Logan recognized this plea as the same one gave to the scientists. Now determining what did or didn't happen during the Weapon X program is difficult to parse out because they implanted false memories. BUT regardless of that there was always a part of him that held onto his humanity. But I think that just adds to the horror of it all. Imagine not being able to know what memories are yours and which ones are not? So let me ask, even if those memories are “false” does that make them any less real? Does that mean that Logan suffered any less under their stewardship? He was still kidnapped, he was still experimented on, still tortured. He still had the adimantium grafted onto his bones, he was still made into a living puppet and was still seen as nothing more than a weapon, an animal, a monster by the very people who were doing all of this to him and in some respects they are the reason he is seen as a monster by others.

At the end of that comic (where he was momentarily snapped out of his conditioning) he states that no his humanity wasn’t stolen from him but he still lives with that guilt of everything he can’t remember and the things he can remember are unreliable.

I know a lot of people haven’t read the comics so I’m not trying to do annoying about it BUT if you get the opportunity to PLEASE go read The Weapon X comic (by Berry Windsor-Smith) & Wolverine’s first limited series run (by Chris Claremont).

I specifically say that second one because I think the story that’s told is probably one of the more interesting told for Logan because of the relationship he has with Yukio and Mariko. I’m not going to get too deep into it because I really think you should read it for yourself but the basic outline of it is that where Mariko loves the man, Yukio loves the “monster”. And when he’s initially trying to court Mariko it’s his attempts to in a sense to court humanity but he fails and when he turns to Yukio. And for her part it’s not just as simple as her loving the “monster” but more than she goads it out of him, for thematic reasons and plot reasons. But needless to say, they both love Logan but they both love an incomplete version of him. (It’s a really good story and it’s literally what sold me on the idea of reading through any of the older comics.)

Anyway, (in the comics and movies especially) some people solely see him as a man with an uncontrollable side that they’d run from at the first sign of aggression and others only want that animalistic side and don’t love the man that Logan is. The thing is, he is both of those things. Think about it like this. As humans we like to think ourselves above the food chain, we like to think of ourselves as *more* than animals. And sure we’re definitely one of the most successful species of animals on Earth and we definitely don’t act on instincts in the same way most animals do, we’ve created society and rules and we do things a lot different than other animals but we are still animals.

So Logan isn’t both a man and an animal anymore than you or me. But he is a man that is more in touch with those animal instincts than the rest of us (bc of his mutation). Which I think is why when he does act on those instincts, people see him as less, because we (yes even comic book characters for this argument) only seem associate those traits with animals, with something lesser than ourselves.

The thing is, being “an animal” doesn’t need to be an insult or a condemnation of any kind. Humans are still animals but humans are still kind, and caring, humans have still created beautiful art and music and food and architecture and have got to the stars will probably go beyond the stars all while still being an “animal”.

So I think where most people get hung up on word “animal” is because it has such a negative connotation when applied to humans. And thus that negative connotation basically perpetuates itself so the only time we call other humans animals is when we mean to attack their humanity.

So back to Logan. Imo, there is no better example of this than the way people, Logan included, treat his (and subsequently him) berserker rage. Logan describes it as a monster that shares his soul, something else inside him, the real thing that makes him a monster, something that he doesn’t like, something he’s scared of, something he can’t always control but that he does everything in his power to keep away from the people he loves. Because Logan doesn’t like to kill, he doesn’t like hurting people. He might be good at it, he might be known for it but that doesn’t mean he likes it. Even when he thinks death is a deserved punishment, he isn't ever happy about having to kill. And he even says as much at one point in the comics.

And as a real quick aside, but this is almost exactly what sets him apart from Victor Creed. They're both men whose mutation gives them heightened animal like traits. The only difference is that Logan is ashamed of those parts of himself especially when they pertain to violence where Victor likes it, enjoys it; he goes out of his way for violence.

(If there is more to Victor Creed than meets the eye please tell me bc I gotta say I don’t actually know too much about him except that any time I see him in any Wolverine media I immediately laugh bc I know the two around to brawl. And I’m almost never wrong lmao)

And mind you there are times when Logan is also a hammer in the sense that he tends to punch his way through most of his problems. But he doesn't go out of his way for it in the same way Victor does despite having every reason to.

Logan has killed people but unlike Victor he isn't a killer. Even if that's what he's "the best at".

So when he goes into this specific rage that labels him a monster (an animal) it’s almost always in front of someone he loves and it’s almost always in a moment when he’s trying to prove his humanity (when it’s being used thematically and not for plot convenience). Like if you go read the comics 9 times out 10 when Logan is being called a monster or animal by some scientist or an enemy looking to humiliate him. But it’s almost always in the mitts of a life or death situation. A situation that anyone would fight light hell to get out of even with an amazing healing factor like Logan’s.

Because he still feels pain.

He still wants to survive.

He still feels.

And at the end of it all, he feels ashamed and horrified with himself and he'll always have to live with that guilt and shame. There's a point in one of the comics when he describes his heart as being slower to heal than the rest of his body and I think its interesting because although that story he's talking more from a "heart broken" sense. I also think that can apply just as equally to idea that it also harder for him to heal from not just heart break but also from shame and guilt. In certain situations, it takes longer for him to forgive himself emotionally because he suffers physically in the short term. He’ll never have a physical scar of his wrong doing and so he carries the emotional weight of it with him.

But also because he isn't just dealing with himself. In those moments when he comes out of that rage, the people he loves are in shock and are scared because they saw the “monster” and some people do reject it and in so they reject him and although rejection is something Logan thinks he deserves, it doesn’t make that pain hurt any less. it doesn't make it any easier to heal just because you agree with them, and in a way I think that's what slows down that healing process. Logan's inability to forgive himself.

Because that's the thing, Logan, would rather be scared of himself than forgive himself, be it because of his past trauma or because of the Weapon X program (which in the Weapon X comic it’s implied if not outright stated that the scientist at Weapon X are the reason he feels the fear he does about himself). Logan is scared of no one on Earth more than the man he sees in the mirror. And that’s because in his lowest moments when he looks in the mirror he doesn't see a man, instead he sees an animal, a monster. He doesn’t need the rest of the world to tell him what he already thinks of himself, it just doesn’t help that he has a choir of voices that are sometimes louder than his own telling him his worst fear is real. He is the monster that hides under his own bed but the problem is, while the monster is 'real' is a physical sense, it does not share a soul with him anymore than the boogeyman does. He wrestles with himself. Somedays he believes he's a man like anyone else and other days he can't drown out the voices telling him he's nothing more than a monster.

And as my last touch on the beserker rage, I want to posit my own theory about it. Personally believe to some extent that it isn’t part of his natural mutation and that instead it’s something that was “given” to him by the Weapon X program. The reason I say this is because I think it would make a lot of sense that like the adimantium claws and false memories it would make sense to give you “weapon” this uncontrollable rage (that mostly comes out in times of great duress). Not just because it would be one more thing Weapon X has taken from him (control over his own emotions/body) but also because wouldn’t that just make sense on the side of the people who ran the project? That your living puppet have a fail safe of sorts in case it ran into something bigger than itself? During the Weapon X comic, the scientist are constantly surprised by how resilient he is and even though some of this surprise happens in a false memory, they really do believe they can kill him at one points so if they thought they could kill him, why not something else? Why not give their investment insurance? And what better insurance for an animal than monstrous rage. 

But of course none of this is even to talk about the kind of person Logan really is. The thing that I think most people (in the comics) tend to ignore about Logan, in favor of focusing on his rough exterior (and some of his more questionable characteristics) is that he really does have a heart of gold. Now do not get me wrong, he can do some pretty fucked up shit (I will not talk about the Jean and Scott love triangle bc it gives me a migraine) but he does regularly do things that show how much empathy he has. That show that despite what he (or the rest of the world) might think, he isn’t a monster. The best examples of this are his relationships and more specifically the relationships where he’s a father/mentor. Like his relationship with Kitty Pryde and Jubilee, two kids that he basically adopts/takes under his wing and constantly goes out of his way for. Some of you might remember this post and the reason Logan does eventually fuck Wade’s shit up is because Wade literally punches the ever living shit out of Kitty in front of Logan. In another comic issue (after this), Logan beats the shit out of Wade again for punching Kitty, it’s funny but it also just goes to show that he does take protection of his family seriously. And mind you he doesn’t hunt Deadpool down, he find him by sheer plot coincidence when he’s getting a book signed for Kitty and the author just so happened to be Deadpool’s mark.

And mind you, Logan does have love for his own kids (Laura and Daken) despite the troubled nature of both this relationships but again those are a little more complicated. That’s partially for plot reasons but also because they play into just how much Logan hates himself that he struggles active show the same love for his adopted family to his “blood” family (again with Daken it’s a lot more complicated) but I also think that not only are his relationships with them fraught because of how much he hates himself but because both Laura and Daken were experimented on just and manipulated like he was (and in Daken’s case by a major player of Weapon X) so while he does love them past his own self hatred, they are also a reminder of his deepest traumas. It’s not their fault and it’s not necessarily Logan’s fault either, it’s just the cards their characters were dealt. (I haven’t read any comics with them yet so once I do I will most likely write my thoughts on his relationship with them each individually)

Regardless, Logan, depsite what he’d like you to think, is a deeply loving, empathetic and loyal person and this doesn’t just extend to people who considers family:

(Logan says this a man who not only a few issues ago was trying to kill him and his partner/friends. He saved Roughouse (the character he went berserk on a few pictures ago) because he was being experimented on in a way not too dissimilar to the way he had been by Weapon X. And if I remember correctly this is before he even knows how he got the adimantium in his bones)

He is James 'Logan' Howlett. He is a man whose life was stolen from him so many times over. He is a man who believes that the worse parts of him are all that matter and fails (or refuses) to see the good he has done in the lives of the people he cares about and believes that only death will truly bring him peace. He is someone who despite his flaws can’t help but to be kind. He is someone who fights like hell for what he believes is right. And even if he believes he’s a monster, even if the world believes he’s a monster, he will try to do the right thing because although he knows his soul is damned that doesn’t mean that exempts him from doing what good he can. He is someone who gives and good as he gets and then some. He’s the best at what he does but for him, that isn’t alway what he thinks it is.

And I think that’s the beauty of Logan as a character. Someone whose life is so wrought with tragedy and yet he is someone who can’t help but to be kind, someone who can’t help but love and care and find the humanity in the world despite the world seeming to be hellbent on taking his humanity away. Even though he (and many people in universe) might disagree with me, he is not only a one of the best humanity has to offer but he is also a shining example of the tenacity of the human spirit.

[gio-utti]

how are you so good at drawing people's skin!? my feed is like a soap commercial right now from all of your perfect flesh. (also thank you, your work is really nice to look at c: )

FIRST OF ALL THANKS😭💖

And hmm about flesh and skin overally, I think what helped me the BEST to make it look realistic was paying more attention to and managing the cold and warm undertones! I think it started when I saw this thing here for the first time👇

(I have NO IDEA who's the author I'm so sorry,, I have it saved for so long on my phone it got lost💀)

From there I started paying attention to other artists' arts, pictures (better if unfiltered/if people have no makeup on) and started "mapping" where regions should I put each color not only on the face but also the body and here we are😂🙏

I think these illustrate well how I apply (and often exaggerate them, specially the greens) akdjjs and this cold/warm tones apply to all skin colors too btw

The last one is how I distribute it in bodies more or less aoskapskap

The other think yo consider is obviously the skin folds– and for these I also use a lot of refs ORRR take pics of myself if it's something more specific akdnsjs

This may or may not ended up with me having tons of very shameful and ugly pics on myself on my phone😍

BUT THATS IT KANDJS

[nihildenial]

On the Nose by nihil-denial (wc: 1,465)

Pairings: Special Ghoul & Copia's Rats

Rating: Gen

Tags: Fluff, No hurt, Animal love, Copia's rats, Rigatoni the Rat

Summary: Special Ghoul believes he won't enjoy pet-sitting Papa Emeritus IV's twelve pet rats. Perhaps he shouldn't make assumptions that quickly.

It’s difficult to continue daily tasks in a quiet Ministry. Special Ghoul’s routine of sweeping, paperwork, and media management was typically easy because of the flurry of activity that kept distracting him. However, with Papa Emeritus IV, the Ghouls, and Papa Nihil out on tour, Phil was left in charge of most of the ghoul’s daily chores. The Siblings stepped up for a lot of it, much to his relief. 

So, that meant he could keep his normal schedule of document reviewing, instgram and email wrangling, sweeping…and now, rat babysitting. He wasn’t looking forward to starting that task today. Rats were considered pests in New York City, only an hour’s drive from the Ministry. Sure, the Rats song was fun to shoot and the cartoon stickers Copia handed out were cute, but the real animals were probably a mess of dirty vermin that the man has managed to look past to find something adorable in.

He probably would get dirt all in his tunic. 

Special Ghoul straightened his belt and hung his mask by his fascia as he neared Papa Copia’s room. He closed his deep amber eyes and took a deep, settling breath before he pushed through the heavy velvet curtains. 

He feels for the light switch, jumping when it triggers the large lava lamp on the side table. “Fucking hell,” he mutters and continues through the small living area to the bedroom. He switches on the overhead lights and sighs at the large metal structure taking up the entirety of the right wall. 

Special stares at it then looks to where he presumes the Anti-Pope sleeps. It’s a twin mattress on the floor, pushed up against the middle wall. The fire Ghoul knows that the man’s coffers are more than full enough for a nice bedroom set. They’re satan worshippers for fuck’s sake; Special needs to convince the man to put his selfish wants first for once. 

Special sets the several bags of things on the neatly tucked bed. A packet of paper is sitting innocently on the Star Wars pillow. 

He then walks to the floor-to-ceiling cage and comes eye-to-eye with the rodents Copia so dearly loves. Special flips to the first page (it’s a motherfucking table of contents) and then the next, which has a picture and description of each of the twelve pet rats. 

Alfredo

Allegro

Buccatini

Crescendo

Farfalle

Gemelli

Gemini

Legato

Minestra

Opus

Rigatoni

Toccata

A star sticker was placed next to Rigatoni’s picture, designating him as Copia’s ‘heart rat’ or whatever that meant. Phil closes the packet and sets it aside. He toes off his shoes outside of the baby crates that surround the cage and carefully steps inside, trying not to step on any of the toys. 

Squeaks of all pitches meet his ears. He finally looks up to meet the excited gazes of the rats. They’re squirming, jumping, wrestling and going between the many different levels of the cage. A bunch of them gather on the floor nearest his face. There’s little dirt or visible poop on the colorful blankets and dig box. In fact, the longer he stands there, he notices how they use their tiny arms to lick and wash their faces and bodies.

“Why are you all actually cute?” He asks quietly as a pink nose pushes between the thin bars of the enclosure. He boops it gently. “I can’t let Papa know he was right.”

The black and white rodent jumps away from the bars, scurries up onto one of the hanging hammocks, then bounces back to press against the bars. It repeats it when Special touches the pink nose again.

Oh, it wants to play. 

“Okay, okay, let me make sure this is secure before I let all of you out.” He checks the corners of the playpen, fills the thin bowl with water and most of the frozen peas and carrots, then steps back up to the cage. The latch on the bottom area is simple. 

As soon as the doors are open, the rats are eagerly scurrying down the short ramp to the cushioned floor. Copia’s instructions say he can let them go by themselves for a bit, so he steps out to observe them.

Special watches their fuzzy, avocado-shaped bodies move with such a feeling of excitement that he finds himself smiling down at them. Geez, he’s turning soft. 

A large, golden rat pauses in its place at the platter of peas and pellets to stare up at him. It crawls around its packmates and tries to jump onto the playgate. Surprisingly it makes it almost to the top. Special falls to his knees and grabs the rodent to keep it from escaping. 

The animal is squishy, warm, and wiggly. It calms as it relaxes in the radiant warmth of his palm, closing its beady but cute black eyes. According to the papers, this is Rigatoni, a special rat. 

Special ghoul carefully pets the rat’s head with a finger. When the rat relaxes more, he caresses the animal’s pudgy body. 

It’s calming. Special is holding a tiny life in his hands, and is being trusted unconditionally . He’s a scrappy fire ghoul meant to fight in the pits of Hell and this little creature finds something good enough in him to relax. He has to wipe the hot tears from his eyes with the sleeve of his tunic. 

“Hello, Rigatoni,” he croaks. 

The rat opens its eyes and stretches its delicate pink arms and legs, climbing up his arm to sit on his shoulder. 

Special has seen Copia walking around with a few of the rodents like this. Sometimes he even puts a basket on his stupid tricycle for several rats to ride around in. 

More of the rats have finished fishing for peas to hop at the gate to gain his attention. He reaches down and picks up one of the docile black and white ones. Allegro paws at the embroidered ghoul symbols. 

“Yes, I’m a ghoul,” he answers the rat.

He has to put the rat back down when it tries chewing off the patch. “No, no. No nibbling off my patches. I know it was a few of you little shits that did that to Papa’s favorite pants.”

He tries to look at them sternly, but their tiny, curious faces make it extremely difficult. Special reads a few more pages of Copia’s instructions. 

“You guys want some treats?” He says and laughs at the eager frenzy that causes. He presses the rectangular bits of sweet potato, peas, and walnut pieces in the different balls, snuffle mats, and hammocks. 

Rigatoni crawls down his arm to hop back into the playpen to join the search for treats. When he tries to take one of the balls to put more treats in, Toccata grabs it and starts an impromptu tug-of-war. When Phil carefully tosses it in, the grey rat pushes it around with it’s pink nose like a dog. 

-

“Have you seen Special Ghoul?” Sister Gwenyth pokes her head into the Siblings’ communal kitchen.

Brother Ezra shakes his head from where he’s stirring in a large pot. “Not since this morning. He said he was going to feed Papa’s rats.”

She purses her lips and looks to the few other Siblings in the kitchen. All of them give her equally unhelpful answers. She turns and heads back out into the cloister, checking the empty Ghoul crypt once more. She goes back upstairs to the main level and heads towards the papal wing. 

She tries not to think too hard about the empty bedrooms as she passes them. She stops outside the curtain, a line of light spilling from under the doorway. “Phil?” She calls.

When she gets no answer, she cautiously steps inside. The living room is empty, so she moves on.

The bed is filled with the Ghoul’s duffel bag and discarded silver mask. She looks over the edge of the playpen by the open rat cage (not seeing any rats or squeaks, which makes her panic) and sees the most adorable sight.

Special Ghoul, asleep in the middle of the large space, with twelve rats snuggling in the junctions of his neck and on top of his chest. He looks so peaceful, his sharp, charcoal grey features relaxed. The rats on his chest are snuggling under one of his hands, their tails sticking out from his fingers. In the crook of his neck is a bunch of curled up rodent noses pressed against each other and moving with their breaths. 

She has to physically restrain herself from making noise. Gwenyth frantically captures the moment with her phone and sends it to Copia. She checks that all of them are indeed breathing and snaps another picture before leaving them alone. The tax documents can wait until tomorrow.

[cicerfics]

Hi! I just wanted to say thanks for all of your posts - especially right now - and the messages of hope you put with them. I'm having a hard time with accepting the election results and what it means, so it's nice to see the encouragement and the reminder that we will get through it all. 🙂

Big, big hugs to you. I don't want to seem like I'm being glib about any of this: it's a really hard and scary time and I understand the tendency to panic. My stomach was in knots all last night, to the point I felt like I was going to throw up! I literally emptied out a trash can to put by my bed, just in case my stomach couldn't cope with the stress!

It's A Lot to cope with. Especially after the insanity and stress we've all experienced since the start of the pandemic. We're all exhausted and sad and burned out. Believe me, I know.

But I do believe that we can and will get through this. Obviously, none of us wanted to be called upon to live through this type of Major Historical Event. But we will not be the first set of people (nor the last) to face this kind of thing in their lifetime.

Famines and natural disasters happen. Unpleasant and malicious political regimes rise and fall. Plagues sweep through the land. It's part of how the world works. Nothing is ever perfect. We have always inhabited a flawed world and a flawed society.

But humans are, broadly speaking, really good at surviving things and a sense of community is our superpower. We can (and will) take care of each other. Humans can be awful, but we can also be so very wonderful.

And when I manage to persuade myself to step outside my bubble of human-centric concerns, I'm blown away by the sheer beauty and wonder of the world we get to live in. Even though it's flawed and imperfect, it's so lovely. It's downright magical sometimes.

I was opening a pomegranate the other day and just marveling at the seeds. How beautiful it is! And how lucky I am to get to be here, eating these sweet juicy seeds! How lucky I am to toss a small handful of seeds to the birds in my backyard, and watch them gobble down their food before fluttering up into the trees!

How lucky I am to send a photo of my pomegranate seeds to friends, and receive in return a picture of their dog, or their garden, or their new throw pillows! How lucky I was last night, in the midst of all my anxiety, to get to go outside as see a really spectacular sunset and share it with my loved ones!

We have a beautiful world full of beautiful creatures. We have so many fellow humans who see this beauty and want to protect it and share it with one another. We must not lose sight of that. Things are still good, and we will continue to take care of each other in the days ahead. 💖

[idorukiss]

Heres a sorta drabble/headcanon of sorts of how I picture MC's relationship with Rafayel would devleop~ I'm not much of a writer but the brainrot is real and im working on making similar ones for the other boys too!

1,051 words || You can also read it on ao3

‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙ Xavier ・ Zayne ・ Sylus

There have been many different things in Rafayel's life that inspired him when it comes to his art, But nothing took control of his heart so intensely as much as you have. Like a whirlpool you shook him to his core from that first meeting, and all he wants to do is capture you on his canvas for eternity.

It really was quite the blessing with how willing you were to become his bodyguard- not only can he keep you within arms reach but you can also protect him from all the shady people after his life. Like killing 2 birds with one stone, except you were so much stronger and beautiful than any stone he’s ever set eyes on before

He absolutely felt like a flirt to you at the start with all of the compliments and casual physical touch between you guys, He just loved to say how amazing you are while enclosing you in a deep bear hug. It was strange at first you'd admit, but it never felt like he was trying to make any passes at you or act like he was expecting anything in return. Perhaps that's just how he acts with people he trusts?

When Rafayel isnt painting, you two spend a lot of time outside finding inspiration all around. He usually has a sketchbook with him scribbling away anytime he sees something interesting- the landscapes, pretty flowers, or even a parfait you guys got to share. You’ve seen some of these sketches as he works on them, it always amazes you how much detail he can capture with so few lines.

He never let you fully flip through the sketchbook however, claiming all sorts of reasons why, like that the drawings were scared of the sunlight or you had to go through many trials to be worthy. It was obvious how much he cherished it and you respected his wishes, though it would be nice to reminisce on some of the good times you guys had together again. Though its not like your phone wasn't filled to the brim with photos already

Late one night, you stop by his place to make sure he didn't need any motivation to finish a painting for a deadline set the next morning. You have confidence he could make it in time, he always did, but you want to help him as best as you can otherwise. When you arrive you spot a stunning completed painting and a Rafayel sleeping on the sofa below it- both stunning as they're illuminated by the moonlight.

Taking it upon yourself to clean up his supplies a little, just enough to not be a walking hazard of course, you spot his precious travel sketchbook on the floor. Surely he wouldn't mind if you took a little peak in it, you'd love to see how he finished the last landscape you guys saw before he locked himself up to work. As you flip through the pages you see so many familiar sights from your time together so far, but scattered around them filling maybe even more pages was many drawings of a person. Of you. All surrounded by hearts and little notes about things you've said.

When did he have a chance to draw all of these? Is this how you look to him?? Questions race your mind as your face flushes at the image of him intensely scribbling in the sketchbook as you dance around the beach being dumb. You decide to grab a pencil and add your attempt of a sketch of him in the back, signing it with a little heart of your own. It’s nowhere near his skill level but something that captures how you feel, and maybe he would get a chuckle out of it once he spots it.

You don’t realize when the casual acts of affection he started out with turn slightly more romantic- going from linking arms together to holding your hand, and you swear you feel him press little kisses on the top of your head every time he wraps his arms around you. But you don't hate it, in fact it makes your heart flutter every time you realize it

Rafayel often messages you at the most random times to meet him somewhere, usually it was because he found a stunning view and wanted to share the experience with you. Sometimes he would even show up at your apartment to whisk you away, and every time it filled you with joy. These dates and every moment you get to spend with him fill your heart with so much warmth.

One particularly warm night you were woken up by a call inviting you to the beach near his studio. It was worth crawling out of the bed at an ungodly hour, not only for the view but for him. While you were admiring the waves, he couldn't keep his eyes off you as a cautious pinky is hooked around yours. Two faces flush as you look at him, it lasts for only a moment before its interrupted by your watch.

Your face falls as you read the notification “It looks like I got a last minute mission in the morning…I guess this means I have to head back already.” As you take a heavy step to start walking away he reaches out to stop you with a pleading look on his face “Wait, don’t go yet” “Rafayel…. I’m sorry, I really am. This night- everything was wonderful, it really was” “Can’t you just stay the night?” He wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your neck “Please just stay the night, I don’t want you to leave.” Your heart flutters as you wrap your arms around him in return “Okay, I’ll stay for you my sweet painter”

He is the most clingy man you’ve ever met, constantly torn between wrapping himself around you while peppering every inch of skin with kisses and diving headfirst into hundreds of paintings with you as his muse. His studio would be covered in nothing but paintings of you if he didn't have to focus on his commissions.

He sculpted out a place in your heart that held him, and in turn you've devoted yourself to him- loving him with every fiber of your being

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

can uuu do a nick menza fic where he gets off to her while reader or wtv sleeps and she wakes up and then yk they fuck 😝 can he spank her a few times while they fucking im sorry

Warnings: Smut, somnophilia, spanking, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Megadeth lived on a lot of couches with a lot of people. You were at a bar and Nick Menza came over to you, he was nice enough and offered to pay for groceries if not chip in on rent of something.

With that you let him in like a stray dog you'd found off the streets, after showering you even let him in your bed to which he was thankful for.

It was winter and your apartment didn't have great heating, or really any heating, and he was warm.

You'd had a few drinks and were using that as your excuse, but that's besides the point.

Nick had his arms wrapped nicely around you, lending you his warmth without pushing anything you weren't comfortable with, but you were craving heat, honestly, if it came from a cow you would've taken it at this point.

The fact the warmth was Nick was a plus though, for both you and him.

You kept this sleeping arrangement for a few weeks, although you never let him in your room with another woman, that was a rule, he'd have to go somewhere else.

Initially he would go to their place or find somewhere else, but after some time the girls just... stopped.

You didn't get it, he was nice and clean, more than that he was in a big metal band.

He never told you it was him turning people away, he didn't need you to think of that, he just needed you to know he was there and close to you.

Until you were asleep, he couldn't let you know what he was thinking of your poor, innocent face. Not how badly he wanted to push himself past your plump lips, how he wanted to turn you over feel you wrapped around him so tightly.

He'd never do anything with you asleep, he'd just watch you, think of you, hover over you while stroking himself, picturing his cum spurting out onto your face or bare chest, painting your walls gummy walls.

He couldn't have you just yet, so he'd be patient with his nightly rituals.

You came back from work annoyed and frustrated, Nick saw this and decided to take a break from his rituals, lending you an open ear and warm embrace.

Nick was holding you as per usual, letting you sleeping in his arms. It was late, past the time he'd have his thoughts. His body was used to it and ready to go, he figured if he couldn't get himself to calm down he'd just head to the bathroom.

Right as he was about to head off he felt you swatting his chest and looked down at you to see you glaring up at him. "The one night I need something from you you don't do it?" You asked, annoyance obvious in your tone.

Nick was confused, he hadn't done anything wrong that he could think of, had he?

You scoffed at him and pushed him onto his back, moving on top of him and planting your hands on his chest. "Every night you get off to me because I'm pretty and the one night I need to feel pretty I get nothing?"

Nick's brows raised at that. You'd been awake? This whole time, every night when he was jerking off, you were awake? Right next to him? And said jack shit?

He had you on your hands and knees in minutes, staring down at your needy hole as he watched you suck him back in every time he pulled out.

He couldn't help but to raise his hand, a firm palm coming down on your ass. "You couldn't have fucking told me sooner?" He demanded. "Just had to let me feel like a fucking creep, getting off to you like that." Another harsh smack.

You yelped, back arching. "M'sorry, I-I didn't think you wanted me to." You stammered, arms shaking under your weight as you got closer, each slap to your ass bringing you further along.

"Sorry doesn't cut it, I was horny and needed you to be awake." He said through gritted teeth, clearly enjoying your body just as much as you were enjoying his. "I was always fucking there for you and you thought I'd prefer my hand over a pretty thing like you?"

You didn't respond, couldn't respond as you came hard around him, he followed shortly after, collapsing on top of you before rolling off and pulling you to his chest.

"You just had to be a little-"

"A what?" You bit, interrupting him with a stern look.

"Little pretty thing... My pretty girl, whom I love and cherish..." He said, laying a few gentle kisses to your neck.

You knew he was only joking and would never mean anything mean like that, but it was fun to tease him. It was also nice to hear him say that you were pretty when you'd been feeling like shit all day.

[tehriz]

it wasn’t over by the time i went to bed but i set my alarm earlier anyway because i had a feeling. i woke up and checked the news to be sure. and then i got up and took one of my siddurs down and prayed shacharit, because i am grateful for every new day despite everything and i need to remind myself of that sometimes. i said prayers of gratitude and prayers for protection, and prayers for me and prayers for all of you.

and then i took a shower, and i work from home on wednesdays but i put on a bra and my favorite dress and my favorite necklace and a nice headband anyway. i signed on for work and made coffee and had a real breakfast. i put something on on my phone so i wouldn’t be tempted to doomscroll with it. i focused on my job that means a lot to me and does a little good in the world.

i made plans to go to shabbat services with a friend on friday. they asked to bring a friend too and i said hell yeah, the more the merrier. i made plans with my sibs to schedule a fun thing we’ve been vaguely saying we’ll do “soon.” i signed up for an event at my synagogue i’d been thinking about. for a bookstore event i’d asked another friend if they wanted to go to. for a leyning class i’ve been thinking about taking. i texted a friend.

i took time to make and eat a real lunch, a sandwich and a salad and chips instead of just a jerky stick and an orange. i picked up some work from a coworker who’s been sick. i got a nice email from a client thanking me for taking an extra step to help them. my boss sent us some great pictures of the haunted house she put together last week.

i made dinner with my roommates. i called my mom because it’s her birthday and watched her open her present on facetime. last week i was talking to one of my roommates about queer life at our alma mater when i was there, about dyke ball and BDOC and reclaiming words like dyke and queer, and i said “we can’t let the bastards win” and i kept thinking about that today. after 2016 i learned that being with people mattered, and taking care of myself even when i didn’t want to mattered, and spending each day doing only as much as i can do mattered. i’m going to wake up tomorrow and try my hardest to be with people and keep taking care of myself and do only as much as i can. blessed is the One who renews the act of creation daily. that’s all we can do.

[aprillikesthings]

The more I think about this the funnier it is.

Like. Try to actually picture this. Catra is…a bit more vicious than usual during that episode. She’s pissed because she’s freezing her ass off, Entrapta is doing her own thing, and Scorpia keeps trying to ask her out (a lot of people seem to think Catra was oblivious, I tend to think she knew damn well what Scorpia was doing and ignoring it in hopes she’d give up)

So yeah she gets her hands on a thing that turns Adora into a Murder Machine and is fine with that until Adora turns around and almost kills her, and Scorpia manages to knock the sword out of her hand and Adora goes floppy.

Catra’s just happy because hey, now she can bring the sword and Adora back to the Fright Zone, nice

Now actually stop and think about Adora being a crying snotty mess and throwing herself at Catra and slurring out a “why are you so mean to me when I love you, I miss you so much ;_; ” and just. Picture Catra’s reaction to this. The look of SHOCK on her face ahahahahaaaaa

Like how long would it take for Catra to scrape her jaw off the floor and say “I’ve decided this war is fucking stupid, actually. I’m done.”

Also imagine Adora’s shock when they destroy the disk (again) and she comes out of it and Catra’s just shaking her like “so uh you said you love me did you mean it???? TELL ME I NEED TO KNOW”

Everyone just hella confused lol what do you mean they stole the skiff and took off

how I'm dealing with being worried about the election and unable to sleep:

did an edible

watching fave bits of she-ra

i swear i'm not gonna make long-ass screenshot posts this time okay

i'm just. amused at myself. bc i had a fucking. physical reaction to her in that god damned jacket okay nnhghgh

[skellagirl]

played DA2 for the first time and romanced the possessed bisexual poor little meow meow who's totally down for firebombing a walmart

[bacchuschucklefuck]

pygmalion and galatea for aroace people

you should tell your friends what I look like, riz gukgak.

[statementlou]

Tbh i am not surprised that a person who openly talked about having drinking problems since 1d days, because of how crazy 1d worked has been agressive. What surprises me is people being surprised (they never seriously saw drunk person?). But i am also confused about this whole book. Apparently Maya said that that book is not fully bout Liam but compilation about her exes and some of the worst parts are not about him. But recently she said that the book is “ofc about him” so what is true then? Or did she meant it that ofc some parts are about him or that whole book is about him?

Sorry, just confused

I also am not surprised- we've learned so much more about the real stories of things and about the guys' actual lives over the last years, and the story that has unfolded around Liam has been totally consistent throughout if you've been following it, and so the information Maya is telling us is shocking and upsetting but not difficult to believe. I got an anon yesterday saying they were worried about getting similar revelations about the other boys, like "if Liam could be doing this we just don't know, any of them could", and while in a way that's always true I guess, anyone could be doing anything in private like... that doesn't really concern me. Because none of these Liam revelations are coming out of nowhere, there have been many MANY steps along the way leading us here if you've been watching, and he has talked openly about both his mental health struggles and his addiction issues. So to answer that anon... to find out something similar about Louis would in contrast contradict everything we know about him and no I'm not worried about it. Is he probably very irritating, absolutely, but an abuser or a loose cannon, well that news would shock me. But anyway as for the book I don't find it strange that she was nervous when it came out and treading lightly and later decided, fuck it. In the absolutely on point tiktok she dropped today (YES👏GIRL👏FUCKING TELL THEM👏) she even mentions attempts to keep her from publishing the book, presumably by Liam's team, that I am riveted by and cannot WAIT to hear more details about actually- like I said I don't find it at all strange that she was nervous and downplayed it a bit then. But if she says now that it's just about Liam, well, I would say it's been clear from the beginning that the book is their story. Maya herself brought up the parallel of songs being written about stuff and I think it's the same thing; it's true (she was in an abusive relationship that involved certain kinds of events) but maybe not 100% literal (I'm sure details were changed to make the story work, it's not like a word for word timeline of their interactions or whatever).