#theres so much more I could add to this but i was trying to keep it as comprehensible as possible.

[stellisketches]

Imagine you live in a tiny coast town in idk fucking Georgia or something. Everything is fine and dandy but one day King Charles and the Pope publicly declare war on your town because the pope told him your mayor kidnapped Prince William. Then, you remember that one guy Will who showed up like four months ago and is pretty quiet and keeps to himself and doesn't do much besides sit in the fields all day. Everyone starts searching for him to get King Charles off your backs only to realize he has completely disappeared.

This also does absolutely nothing to explain why the Pope is backing King Charles, UNTIL you remember your Mayor's DA is actually the Pope's BROTHER who ran away because he didn't want to marry some random royal person he didn't know. Little do you know, that the rando royal is actually Prince William, who has been kidnapped for real this time- by the pope- but is being held in an underground bunker in the okefenokee swamp.

Anyways, you're trying to figure how the fuck your town of maybe 300-ish people is going to fight the british navy and fucking spanish inquisition. The mayor, handling this remarkably well, makes two phone calls. The first to the Mayor of Washington DC, who is lending you the national guard since your mayor saved him while he was being held captive by an anarchist terrorist group one time. The second is the governor of Louisiana, who agrees to lend some humanitarian aid because your mayor walked his daughter home after she got lost on a chicken farm once. Then, the pope decides to pillage and raze the fuck out of Louisiana, partly because they were offering to lend aid, but mostly because the pope knows the governor's son is your mayor's side piece.

Now, your tiny town is full of the national guard and 20,000 cajuns that are simply itching to terrorize some monarchists. Also that bishop that you were pretty sure was just spying on your town comes in and denounces the pope and offers to fight for your mayor. Lastly, your mayor meets King Charles and the Pope at the town limits, and the mayor, ever wanting peace, offers to marry the pope, who takes a confusingly long time to say no.

Then the battle happens and your army of the national guard and 20,000 cajuns absolutely rock their shit before things start to turn for the worse and just when all seems lost Prince William shows up and absolutely decks King Charles in the face, throwing such a legendary haymaker hard enough to be heard throughout the whole battle, ending the fighting instantly.

The Battle of Phoenix Drop was fucking wild.

[spacedlexi]

maybe if i just put these screenshots together youll understand why i think their relationship just Works so well as it pertains to the characters and themes of S4 in general

neither of them know what theyre doing, but theyre figuring it out Together. the old ways are dead. and together theyll build a new future thats worth fighting for

[sluckythewizard]

'I wont cry for you, I wont crucify the things you do. I wont cry for you, see, when you're gone, I'll still be BLOODY MARY'

[glasseater-3000]

ykw sometimes its better to just cancel the show

[talkorsomething]

Too [insert adjective here] for guard ...................

Well, it's only half related.

We "hit a pothole", "had a slipup", whatever you want to call it — sunday. Aka: for the sake of my sanity we are not labeling it a relapse but good god does it feel as though I have invited the demons back in.

I know why, but I don't really know why. Because, I mean... I never have, to begin with. So: when I decided i was doing it sunday, i accepted it. "Let it happen", as someone would probably say to me. It's not...

I've been thinking about it for a while now. It's like anything - it comes and goes, a few times a year, and no matter what, I always ignore it.

Except, maybe there's something I'm not paying attention to? Or, ignoring, is the better word for it?

Of course it would be the one thing I have happening in my life.

November, I was burnt out for unrelated reasons. It was a lot to take in. That made sense. Now? ... why now?

There's not really any pressure on me. Yes, I have to do things, yes, it will be noticed if they're bad, but ...... it's not important. We don't spend time on it. I'm coming back next year, but it might be at the cost of ... all of this. I think it's progress. I haven't touched my guitar in any serious capacity in over a year. I think it's progress.

I don't take compliments well. I can't tell if that's why I don't get them, but I'm not being corrected much either. Only when I drift too far from what the work is supposed to be, only after weeks of it going, I can only assume, unnoticed. I keep getting stuck.

...push it back down.

Telling me I'm doing good isn't telling me what I know I have to be getting wrong. I could take it, at the cost of... all of this. I'm anticipating, and I know it can come. This is not where I was when I started.

It's been said, I haven't been told, that not starting it means you're more of a burden, by making the other person have to do it first. I know that. I do. And still it doesn't help. I'm not drowning. It wasn't an accident, but it wasn't planned, either. I don't know you.

I don't know you.

I'm not a good person. I'm not a nice person. Every week I tell myself this is really it, and every week I come back, and ... what? Forget I ever said anything? Forget we're not friends?

Well, we're not, huh? Nobody is, with me. What you see I swear you misunderstand. You don't ask. If you do, well, I can't answer. We're at an impasse.

It's not even my fault we didn't make it. I shouldn't feel like this over nothing. I don't do anything. You will, correctly, not let me do anything, because potential doesn't matter if you can't back it up. If you won't back it up. I let things happen to me.

I don't even feel better. And, actually, ironically, i think i know what would let me feel better. If I can't be upset with anyone else, at least I can be with myself.

... but, well, not even that. Your heart in my hands, but I mean it diegetically. And metaphorically. I hate putting myself out there, I hate having to actually perform, and yet every time, no matter what, I do it. I'm fine. I only cared at the start, and even then not very.

I don't feel anything. Not a lot, anyways. I don't let it happen. I can't. I don't know what it'll mean if I start being honest with myself.

...

I've pulled myself out of this before. A few times, now. Different circumstances, but I've done it all the same. Seasonal depression notwithstanding.

I'm only here because I did things I was scared to. And still, I'm the same. No progress made. The only way out is to do it again but I feel like I can't. I can't.

Will someone just let me say that?

Will someone just fucking help for once?

[buckaroosboogara]

Hi! Just wanna raise some awareness here because South America is on fucking fire and I need to see more people talking about this.

Source: RSOE EDIS x

Im just going to talk about the ones i'm closest to, but if you know about these fires, feel free to add in the reblogs!

Chile

In Chile there's (up to Feb 5) 160 wild fires, of which 40 are still trying to be controlled by authorities. The president, Gabriel Boric, has declared State of Emergency in the whole country, and theres a Red Alert Code in most part of the country.

Isla de Chiloé, Southern Chile (900 km away from Santiago de Chile)

This is a (recently controlled) fire that lasted a week, but many neighborhoods were burnt to the ground.

The whole South is in red alert for constant sudden fires that spread quickly due to the lack of rain and the elevated temperatues in the zone. Just today, two fires had to be controlled in the main land next to this island, and more are being reported in the Los Lagos region. This is added to the "controlled" intentional fires that farmers make to clean their fields of old crops along the Central-South parts of the country, mostly surrunding the main route, Ruta 5, that connects the whole country, thus making it hard to see and breathe because of the smoke. (flashnews, most of them get out of control quickly.)

Valparaiso/Viña del Mar, Central Chile (100 km away from Santiago de Chile)

A fire that started on Friday 2nd and grew exponentially because of the wind and the dry, hot climate. More than 100 people are dead, with 70 unrecognized bodies and other 400 that have dissapeared. At least 30000 people that have lost everything to the fire.

There's massive evacuations from this and the neighboring city, Viña Del Mar.

This is said to be the second most deadly fire in the century, surpased by Australia in 2009.

45000+ hectares that include land and neighborhoods have been burnt down.

I could go on about this one, so more info here and here

Argentina

Parque Los Alerces (Esquel), Chubut

The fire strarted on the 25th January, and the climate has made it hard to contain. 3000 hectares of native forest have been burnt to teh ground. It is now growing in the direction of the nearest city, Esquel. Theres been evacuations between yesterday and today (4 and 5th Febuary)

Parque Nahuel Huapi (Bariloche), Río Negro

The reason why im writing this. The city woke up today covered in smoke after a wildfire developed yesterday during the night. The reason? A fireplace that was not turned off in a place where people cannot disembark and can only be reached via boats.

As of now, there's not much information about the fire but hopefully the firefighters will be able to contain it before it reaches Tronador Mountain, where an ancient glaciar is.

...which leads me to the other point i wanted to talk about.

Firefighters

They volunteer to do this job.

In Argentina and Chile, firefighting is not rewarded with a salary, and most of the times they dont even have full firehouses to stay in. These people are at their houses, ready to jump into action and run to the station the second the alarm goes off.

They are neighbors, people that risk their lives and run into danger willingly, just because they want to help the community.

I felt the need to give a shout-out to these people and say:

Don't be a fucking dick, don't start fires in the woods unless it's an approved place, and if you do, TURN IT OFF.

Pour abundant water on it, and do not stop when you don't see any more flames.

Keep pouring water until the ashes don't burn/feel like room temperature in your hand if you put it 10 cm away from it, and even then, pour some more just to be sure.

No heat and no smoke mean a safely extinguished fire.

Save lives and forests.

[reystenius-01]

Sweet and Sour

Summary: Alexia comes home from that game to a sick reader. Comfort and fluff ensues.

(okay theres a bit of angst as well, i couldn't help myself, im sorry 😭)

----------------

Alexia didn’t know whether to cry, to yell, or to hurl a water bottle against the nearest surface. They had lost. Barça had lost. Their first defeat of the season could not have come at a more dangerous time, in the first leg of the Champions League Semi-Final. 

It was their first home defeat in five years, as well.

And to add salt to the wound, you weren’t around. You weren’t at the game today. You were at home, incredibly ill to the point where looking at a screen hurt your brain. You weren’t there for Alexia to cling onto, to reassure her that everything would come up blaugrana at the end of the day.

At least, though, you were at home, getting better for the second leg. You’d save them, Alexia told herself, as she applauded the fans for coming and attending. The fans deserved better than whatever the hell that performance was out there.

God, it kept replaying in her head. That miss. That fucking miss.

She could’ve levelled it, put her team on some somewhat stable ground for the away leg at Stamford Bridge. A part of her shattered when that ball went wide, it took majority of her willpower to get right back up afterwards. 

The little head-slaps she usually gave Vicky were lighter now, only just. As much as Alexia would love to give Jona a piece of her mind (she’d do that tomorrow at the latest), you were waiting for her at home. 

The mere thought nearly brought her to her knees. 

Though she knew that you would understand, that you would be the usual radiating beam of positivity that you always were despite feeling like you got hit by a truck, a part of her feared that you’d be disappointed, not just of the team, but of her.

Alexia was brought out of her thoughts as Jona walked into the locker room. The usual post-match speeches were given, but a chunk of Alexia’s brain was just all mush after that game. It was mostly a blur, and she could hardly remember what she had said in her own speech. Thankfully, she didn’t need to do media. The last thing she needed right now, especially in her current headspace, was for some reporters trying to bait her into making a scathing comment.

She wanted to go home to you. And at the same time, she didn’t.

The team bus was mostly silent on the way back to the training ground, a few of the girls conversing in hushed tones, some faint music coming from the back of the bus. Alexia hadn’t texted you yet. You needed the sleep, so you could get better and get back to the team.

Salma’s head was on her shoulder, the girl having fallen asleep a few minutes into the bus ride. Alexia’s heart went out to the girl, and she had encouraged her to keep her head up. 

The minutes went by like a blur, and before Alexia knew it, they were back at the training ground. The radio played faintly in her car as she drove back to your shared home, making a quick stop at the pharmacy to pick up your antibiotics, since the pharmacist had called her to let her know that your required dose for tonight was ready.

The first thing Alexia noticed when she got home was the smell of soup. You must’ve made some boxed instant soup or something, her thoughts confirmed when she saw the box and the seasoning packets. There was still some soup left in the pot on the stove. Well, there was dinner sorted.

She set the bag from the pharmacy down on the kitchen counter before heading upstairs to check on you. She quietly entered the bedroom, and saw you curled up in bed, your breathing steady and peaceful. She smiled softly, grateful to see you resting. You could be a little stubborn at times.

Carefully, she approached the bed and sat down beside you, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, also gently holding her hand against your forehead to check on your fever. Thankfully, it wasn’t that bad anymore.

“Hey, amor,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur. “I’m home.”

You stirred slightly, blinking sleepily as you looked up at her. “Hey, pretty girl,” you murmured, clearing your throat and sitting up a bit so you could lean against the headboard. “How are you? How was the game?”

Alexia hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. She didn't want to disappoint you with the loss, especially when you were just starting to feel better.

“It was... challenging,” she said finally, hating how small she sounded. “But you know how it is. Win some, lose some.”

Your brow furrowed slightly, concern flickering in your eyes. You knew your girlfriend the same way you knew how to breathe. There was no way she’d ever use the words ‘win some, lose some’ to describe a game, especially a Champions League semi-final, at home no less. 

​​You studied her for a moment, your eyes searching her face. “Lex, what's wrong?” you asked gently, sensing her reluctance to talk about it.

Alexia hesitated, her heart heavy with the weight of her missed chance, chewing a little on the inside of her cheek. “I... I had a chance to level the score,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I missed.”

Your heart broke then and there, not because of the loss at all. Your girlfriend, the Alexia Putellas and the two-time Ballon D’or winner looked so… small in front of you. Your expression softened with understanding, and you reached out to take her hand in yours. “Hey, it's okay,” you said soothingly, your voice filled with reassurance. “That’s football, love.”

Alexia noticed you shift closer to her a bit, your thumb stroking the back of her hand gently. You were keeping your distance a bit, not wanting to get your girlfriend sick, even more so now.

“But it was such an important game,” Alexia said, her voice trembling with emotion. “And I let everyone down.”

You shook your head, gently squeezing her hand. “You didn't let anyone down, Lex. You gave it your all out there, and that's all anyone can ask for. We win and lose as a team,” Alexia wasn’t looking at you, but you were looking at her, studying her. You could see her biting her bottom lip to keep herself from crying in front of you. “Mi vida, mírame.”

Alexia nibbled on her lip some more, before shaking her head. Your hand left hers, reaching up to gently hold her chin and encourage her to look at you. “Ale, mi niña bonita. Please look at me.”

She let you turn her face to face yours, and your thumb immediately reaching up to wipe away the tears that were escaping the corners of those gorgeous hazel eyes.

Your heart ached for her. She looked so vulnerable in that moment, and it pained you to see her so torn up over the match. “Alexia, listen to me,” you said, your voice firm but gentle as you wiped away her tears, albeit a little croaky as well. “You are so much more than just one missed chance. You are strong, talented, and resilient. And no matter what happens on the field, I am always going to be proud of you.”

Alexia's breath caught in her throat as she looked into your eyes, seeing nothing but love and admiration reflected back at her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

“Don't apologise, amor,” you said softly, shaking your head. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Alexia shook her head, a shaky sigh escaping her lips. “I just... I hate feeling like I disappointed the team, the fans… and you.”

You reached out, cupping her cheek gently in your hand. “You didn't let anyone down, Ale,” you insisted, completely sure of what you were saying. “You're an incredible player and an amazing captain. And I couldn't be prouder of you–”

You doubled over, turning your head away to cough into your arm, your other hand patting your chest. 

“Amor,” Alexia all but jumped to your side, hand rubbing your back despite you trying to keep her at a distance so that she didn’t get sick.

“I’m…” Another stream of coughs escaped you, and Alexia pulled away briefly to pour you a glass of water. “I’m fine, Ale, thank you.”

You accepted the glass, taking a few sips to soothe the irritation you felt in your throat, massaging it gently. “Maybe you should take some medicine,” she suggested, worry evident for your health.

“After this,” you set the glass on the bedside table, grabbing Alexia’s hands again and getting her to sit beside you. “It's okay to feel disappointed, Lex, but don't let one moment define you. You are capable of so much more than you realise, and I know you know that.”

Tears continued to stream down Alexia's cheeks, but there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes as she listened to your words. “I just want to make you proud,” she admitted, her voice slightly above a whisper, sounding more like herself now.

“Oh, bebita,” you murmured, your voice soft just like your smile as you bunched up your sleeve, wiping at Alexia’s cheeks. “You already make me proud every single day.”

Alexia sniffled, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Even when I miss crucial chances in important games?”

“Even then,” you replied without hesitation, your gaze locked with hers. “Because you give your all out there, and you never give up. You always fight, and fight to make up for it.”

“You always know just what to say,” she whispered, a soft sigh escaping her as she looked at you.

“What can I say? I’m just so wise,” you replied, pulling a face, making Alexia chuckle and lightly shove your shoulder. “Hey, no bullying the weak and feeble!”

“You aren’t f-fuh–?” Alexia tried to copy your pronunciation, and with each attempt, your smile grew. “Amor!”

“What?” 

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Just…” Alexia put her hands on your shoulders. “You’re not weak.”

“I know, mi amor, I know. You aren’t either,” you put one of your hands on top of one of hers, gently caressing her knuckles. “We’re still in it. We’ve been here before, no?” You looked at her knowingly, yet so softly and so full of love.

“Mhm,” she hummed, her smile getting bigger.

“We just need a bit of faith and trust. No matter what happens, win or lose, you’re one of the most amazing people in my life,” you reached out to run your hand through Alexia’s hair, still a bit damp from her post-match shower. “Want me to brush your hair?”

“I want you… to take your medicine,” Alexia said with a smile, and you groaned.

“Is it the tablets?”

Alexia pursed her lips as she stood up, stifling a smile as she held out her hands for you to help yourself up out of bed.

“Amor,” you whined, kicking your feet a little like a child being denied ice cream from a street vendor.

“Come on, my tough and pretty and sexy girl,” Alexia wiggled her fingers. “You can handle a few pills, lovely.”

“I told you that a few months ago, and you banished me to an air mattress on the floor because you didn’t want me catching whatever bug you had,” You held onto her hands, standing up. Alexia’s large hands patted your waist a little before holding you gently. It was an adorable habit of hers. “And then, you proceeded to beg for me to come to bed with you just because you couldn’t stand being apart from me for the night.”

“Come, come,” Alexia had a smile on her face as you went on your little rant, leading you down the stairs to your inevitable fate of having to ingest some pills. You hated the feeling of pills in your throat, even when you took them with water. “Don’t be stubborn.”

“Alexia, don’t be mean to me, I am ill,” you stopped at the bottom step, Alexia looking up at you slightly, tilting her head and smiling at the sight of you pouting.

 You grumbled when she wrapped her arms around your waist and picked you up into her arms, begrudgingly wrapping your legs around her waist to hold onto her as she carried you into the kitchen, “Be careful, you played a rough half of football.”

Alexia glanced at you, brow furrowed. You weren’t supposed to be on your phone or any technology for that matter.

“Mapi called,” you smiled innocently, fingers scratching her scalp, the midfielder closing her eyes at the feeling briefly. “It’s been a while since she used short sentences.” Alexia winced. “Too soon, yep, sorry.”

“The doctor said you need to have three tablets–” Alexia braced herself for the mush of words that were about to come out of your mouth.

“Amor!”

-----

[honeekyuu]

squeeze. [sakusa kiyoomi x reader] satin black intros.

place of (homosexual) business

masterlist.

[playlist]. satin black || vibes

a/n. im completely totally normal about this au. completely normal.

warnings: me.

✗ !!! minors do not interact !!! ���

✗ !!! ignore timestamps !!! ✗

satin black moved into its current location about three weeks ago, and theyve tortured brews abridged ever since

they were at a smaller location for 3 years prior, but they outgrew it when each of them independently went a little viral online for their work

everyone has a license to both pierce and tattoo, but iwa/akaashi stick to tattooing and suna sticks to piercing

akaashi’s the only one who went to art school

iwa taught himself on youtube

suna and sakusa taught themselves by practicing on each other – all of suna’s tattoos are by sakusa and all of sakusa’s piercings are by suna exclusively

it went a little like this the first time around: "i can do this. i dont need instructions-" "ARE YOU FUCKING SURE ABOUT THAT!!!!"

akaashi specializes in black and grey tattoos and iwa does color; sakusa does both but prefers black and grey

iwa’s best known for watercolor style art and akaashi’s best known for geometric art 

sakusa’s best known for japanese style art

suna's keeps trying to sell people on new and strange places to get pierced. this is dangerous and sakusa has banned him from doing it 8 times already.

hes actually so good at his job, hes just an idiot

theyre total assholes who chain smoke in the shop and swear at each other from across the room

the shop motto is "make them horny until they come back" and boy does it work

every single one of their clients transferred across the city with them when they moved

sakusa doesn't actually take new clients anymore, he just keeps up with regulars. he's very adamant about this

he is most often found in his office, which is also his private studio

the shop playlist consists of music added by sakusa, suna, and iwa -- they tried to get akaashi in on it but he got apple music just to spite them and wears his headphones when he works

suna can and WILL add the most unhinged shit to the playlist. there is a near-daily incident where sakusa tries to skip past suna's songs but suna keeps going back to them just to be annoying

this results in the shop being filled with the nonstop sound of skipping songs and sakusa screaming at him from his office

iwa usually joins in too because he has a short temper

akaashi always has to put his gun down and dissociate, because he can feel himself about to fuck up his lines with how hard his eye is twitching

akaashi has the least tattoos but that’s really not saying much; they have a board in sakusa’s office with the running count for each of them

everyone who comes in for the first time always sees two tattoo artists: iwa, who sits in the corner chain smoking and frowning and generally looking like he could kill you; and akaashi, who is generally polite and looks way less scary than iwa.

and they always choose akaashi, because he looks nice

he is not fucking nice. he is mean as shit. iwaizumi is the nicest one in that shop.

iwa so often is the type to roughly grumble "oh, yeah we can take a break -- this placement always hurts like a bitch. i need a smoke anyway" (hes already smoking).

akaashi keiji is the type to whisper "oh, did that hurt? pussy." and go in even more.

he is mean as shit and everyone makes this mistake.

sakusa and suna met in high school -- they would skip class together and sit behind the school smoking and blasting bass boosted music

theres something about running from campus security every day that bonds two people into brotherhood

theyre like,,,, fucking carbon copies of each other, these two -- two tall as fuck, tatted up, pierced up dudes with matching judgmental expressions and chipped black nail polish, standing outside the shop smoking, talking shit, and glaring at anyone who comes out of the stupid ass 3-in-1 shop next door

they met iwa and akaashi during their apprenticeship. they really didnt get along at first, but it takes a very unique combination of crazy to be able to open the kind of tattoo shop sakusa wanted.

and he had his combination of crazy right there in front of him.

iwa’s the most normal one and just wants to be akaashi’s friend. thats all he wants. he wants to make his silly little money and be akaashis silly little friend. 

iwa is the only one akaashi trusts for literally anything related to the shop but he wont ever say that

it's so painfully obvious that suna named their group chat. sakusa stopped trying to change it back years ago.

taglist = [open]

@mollyrolls @nectardaddy @onlytendoguesses @scinclaitnoir @marsoverthestars

@bookskeepers @choerry-picking @siheez @introvertsince2003 @eggyrocks

@atrashsith @beckixwsm @kakeru-eem @atsumusc0ck @seroh

@reignsaway @a-little-pebbl @bakingcuriosity @dondoncool @corvid007

@asthmaticcchoeee @liliumaraneae @savemebrazilhinata @whydoyoucare866

she put my hand up on her throat and told me // squeeze that shiiii-

squeeze [ghostemane].

[croxxbow13]

The Sweet One - Part One

Warnings: language, mentions of violence and mild adult thoughts.

Takes place during Alexandria era. Just some musings as you’re trying to adjust to this new, impossible way of life… and trying to make sense of Daryl’s intoxicating presence.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Honestly, I’m not sure what this is. I just opened my notes app and just started putting words down. Will do a part 2 if theres any interest.

Please be gentle with me, its my first time.

(Part Two)

(Part Three)

-

It’d been three weeks since our group had stumbled into the walls of Alexandria, dirty, dehydrated and half starved.

Everyone had done the best they could to settle in, though it still felt like most of us were still holding our breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Places like this didn’t exist anymore.

At least, not for long.

We all slept in the same house, hell the same room for the first few nights, not wanting to let our guard down. The floor a patchwork of arms and legs and blankets, while the beds lay empty in their vaulted ceiling bedrooms.

After the things we’d experienced on the road, how could we not? Cannibals, rapist, psychopaths that tried to take us down, slaughtering their whole communities in the process without so much as a flicker of remorse.

I remember one night on the road, everyone sitting around the fire, Daryl said that the world really hadn’t changed all that much. People had always been shit. Now they were just more open about it. There was no reason they could see to keep those terrible things inside.

No reason to fear hell when we’re already there.

And now, to look into these strange smiling faces offering promises of food, walls, shelter… hot showers?

I stuck close to Carol for a while, trying to keep a low profile, putting on a nice face, but all the while keeping my ears tuned to the low whispers, the quiet conversations in adjoining rooms, listening, waiting for someone to slip up. To show the other side of the coin, but they never did.

It didn’t take long working in the small confines of the kitchen and pantry to feel like the walls were closing in on me. The daily droning of bored housewives going on about their ridiculous reasons to be at odds with their husbands, or gossiping about this person or that person… cackling together like a bunch of restless hens.

It reminded me too much of the old world. And I’d rather use an ice pick as a q-tip.

But thankfully, after some convincing - and maybe a little bit of begging - Aaron finally agreed to let me help with scavenging. He said that he, Daryl, Glenn and a few of the Alexandrians were going to be checking out a warehouse tomorrow a few towns over. Something about an old cargo depot.

I couldn’t give a shit less, as long as it gets me outside these walls for a little while.

I never thought it would be hard to transition back into some semblance of normalcy… but I feel like we’re all just kind of playing house. The people in this community have just as many dirty secrets as the people out there. The only difference is theirs is hidden behind neatly manicured hedges and eggshell tinted semi-gloss paint.

-

I’m sitting on the steps of Carol’s house when she returns home from another’s day work.

I say Carol’s house, but I guess it’s also mine and also Daryl’s. Though I’m pretty sure his residence here was just a given whereas I actually asked Carol if she minded that I stayed here.

Rick and Michonne have their whole family dynamic thing going on with Carl and Judith, so I would just feel like a fifth wheel.

Abraham and Rosita had room… but after being on the road with them and realizing how obnoxiously loud they are during sex… and don’t even get me started with fucking Eugene. I swear to God, when he starts rambling off at the mouth with his overinflated self importance. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve imagined cutting off that ratty ass mullet and gagging him with it. My luck though that would just add more material to his mental spank bank that he would recall as he’s beatin’ one out watching his compadres going at it.

I hate that I think about these things, and I hate that I have a vivid imagination because I immediately feel the bile rise in my throat, taste the acidic disgust on the back of my tongue.

I must’ve made a face because Carol stops and looks at me before she makes it to the steps.

“Well I’m glad to see you too.” She says, fighting back a sarcastic laugh.

I shake my head, trying to be reassuring while I’m still fighting the churn of my stomach.

“I’m sorry, just been a long day.” I say, giving her a lopsided smile. She puts a steadying hand on my knee as she swings around and takes the space on the step beside me.

She unbuttons her muted green sweater, or should I say her chosen costume of the day, and pushes up the sleeves. Usually she waits until she’s made it into the front door before she goes through her “becoming Carol” ritual that Daryl and I tease her about most nights.

We give her shit, but I gotta give it to her. She’s smart.

Seeing her now, It’s crazy to think of the transformation she’s undergone since I first met her back at the quarry. Back then she was so… small. And quiet. And just scared all the time. And I get it. Being beaten day in and day out by the person who should be your biggest sense of security will do that to you. Hell, the end of the world was probably the best thing that ever happened to her.

Daryl, too. Granted, he doesn’t talk much about his life before. But from witnessing his toxic ass relationship with his brother, I can only imagine that home for him was never really much of a home. And I’ve seen the scars. At least some of them. He didn’t get those from learning to ride a bike.

Dad was probably a drinker with no outlet for his anger. And Merle was probably old enough and big enough to at least get away from him eventually. I don’t know how much younger Daryl is, or was than Merle. But if I had to guess there was probably a solid 10 years that Daryl would’ve had to fend for himself. And Merle said it…

He was always the sweet one, my baby brother…

It’d made me so angry how he had said it so condescendingly. Like it was something to be shameful about. Like it was a weakness that should be hidden away. Because “real” men don’t show emotion.

Fuck him. I’ve literally watched Daryl rip out vocal cords with his bare fucking hands. And his arms… jesus christ, his arms.

Apparently I just sighed because now Carol has turned her attention towards me again. I clear my throat brushing non-existent dirt off the knees of my jeans.

“Want me to start on dinner?” I ask her, hoping the flush I feel creeping up my neck isn’t obvious.

She gives me a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“It’s ok, I ate a little something before I left work. Daryl might be hungry when he gets in though, if you’re wanting to make something. I think we’ve still got stuff for some spaghetti.”

And then as if conjured up from the depths, Daryl turns onto the street from the way of the front gate, the sounds of his boots thudding lightly against the pavement.

Daryl didn’t walk, it was more a saunter if anything. That one hand always gripping the strap of his crossbow that laid across his chest, the other swinging by his side, always a little wider than necessary.

I wonder sometimes if he’s aware of how much space he takes up at any given moment. Though I could never bring myself to ask him, because then he’d want to know what I meant. And I had no intention of letting him know how small he made rooms feel when I’m in one with him.

He’d probably take it the wrong way and go brood in the woods for a few days.

That sweet baby brother.

I’m self admittedly pretty terrible at recognizing when someone’s flirting with me.

But Daryl… Daryl. Fucking. Dixon. Takes the cake with that one.

At times I wonder if he’s actually had any kind of intimate interaction whatsoever. And, oh to have been a fly on the wall…

Doesn’t mean I can’t try though, right?

I mean, it can’t be completely one sided. I’ve caught him stealing glances when he thinks he’s out of my line of sight. I mean, christ, we live in the same house together.

And god so help me, for as long as I live I will never forget the look on his face when I came out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel because he’d come back from a run early. I had my face down, trying to towel dry the rest of my hair and he rounded the corner as I was stepping into the hallway and I basically face planted his chest. It took him about three syllables worth of his sentence, his hands gripping my arms to keep me from stumbling backwards, before he realized that that single layer of cotton that hit just a little too high on my thighs was the only thing saving us from an even more awkward situation.

His eyes went wide as he’d snatched his hands away like he’d been burned. And the color that immediately flushed his cheeks made me want to sink my teeth into the vein that pulsed too quickly in the side of his throat as he dropped his head and retreated out the front door.

Damn… Im starting to sound like one of them.

“Perfect timing! Your ears must’ve been burning!” Carol’s chipper tone pulls me once again from my thoughts, though this time it’s not as welcome. Daryl’s boots scuff against the sidewalk as he comes to a stop in front of us.

“What d’ya mean?” He says, his voice gruff as his gaze bounces between the two of us. I’m still fighting off visuals of lips and teeth and tongues, so I just raise my eyebrows and shake my head, doing my best to avoid meeting his eyes.

“We were talking about dinner, you hungry?” Thanks, Carol.

Daryl shakes his head and shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Nah. Not really.”

“Alright, well I’m going to go shower, that way you can get yours whenever you get ready.” Carol stood and turned for the door, giving me a small pat on the shoulder as she crossed the porch and disappeared into the house.

I looked at him then, and thankfully his attention was somewhere down the street.

The sharp orange streaks of light from the setting sun highlighted the beads of sweat on his brow, and judging by the dirt that clung to his arms and clothes, they’d had an eventful day.

Good. He always seemed to be in a better mood those days.

He was chewing on his bottom lip, as he always did when he was working a thought over in his mind. And I figure its as good a time as any to snap him out of it. Before he turns and I’m just staring at him like a fucking weirdo.

“Aaron’s letting me come with you guys tomorrow. Said that it’d be a good time for me to come along and see how you guys work together.”

He nodded slowly before he turned his eyes to me. “Yeah, he told me.” He slid his crossbow over his head and leaned it against the step railings before sitting down on the landing next to me.

And true enough, it now felt half the size as when Carol was sitting there.

“It’ll be good for ya,” he said, pulling at a string that hung loose on his glove. “Get out there an outta here for a while.” As he said it, his eyes scanned the other houses in the neighborhood… still looking for the cracks. For the slip of the stage props.

Maybe we’re not so different.

My eyes follow his gaze. And when I speak, it’s lower… only meant for us.

“You’re still looking for it too.” I say. It’s not a question. He turns his head and looks at me now. The dirt smudge across his cheek brings out the blue in his eyes.

His response is more of a grunt than a word. He wants to know what I’m talking about. Even though he already knows what I’m talking about. He just wants to hear me say it.

“You’re looking for the strings. For the wizard behind the curtain. This place can’t be as perfect as it looks from the outside. There’s something… there’s gotta be.”

He slowly nods and I know that he’s starting to realize the same thing…

Maybe we’re not so different.

The sun has finally dipped below the horizon. I can only tell because that first faintly cool breeze that precedes the darkness is creeping between the houses now. And thanks to it, I’m now aware of the heat I feel radiating off of him. I didn’t realize that my arm was that close to his. Even through his jeans I can feel the warmth of his legs on the steps beside mine.

Why are my fucking ears hot?

And why do I have to fight the urge to lean over and lick the sweat off his neck.

Can you imagine the look on his face?

Stop. Stop.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I need to get up and go inside before I embarrass myself and just have to go knock on the door of the love nest and ask if I can big spoon Eugene.

Fuck that.

And then he bumps his shoulder against mine and suddenly I have no escape plan. I actually don’t plan on going anywhere. I actually would probably have to be pried off this step.

“Come on, we’ve got an early day tomorrow.” He says, and I can feel the words vibrate through my chest. He stands and grabs his crossbow, but he doesn’t sling it across his back like he usually does. He just holds it by his side, stretching out his other hand to offer me help up.

Sweet little baby brother

Naturally I go against my better judgment. Of course I do. I reach up and grab his hand and with little effort, he hauls me up and I’m now even more aware of how effortless he could just pick me up and snap me in half.

Or pin me against a wall.

Stop.

We’re toe to toe, though on different steps, which only adds to the way he’s towering over me. But I can feel his warmth. I can smell the sweet tanginess of his sweat that’s saturated his shirt. The earthy smell of the dirt.

He takes a step back, which part of me is thankful for. As I should be.

I know that if I ever genuinely made a pass at him. And it wasn’t reciprocated, things would probably never be the same between us. I wouldn’t be able to look at him. And he would probably never put himself in a position to be within arms reach of me again. Be it from fear or embarrassment or just the typical, awkward Daryl.

And I don’t want that.

But god damned, I want him.

Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

(Read part 2 here)

[satin-velvet]

ೃ⁀➷ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒜𝓅𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝒸𝑒 ⋆ ★ 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒲𝒾𝓏𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝓍 𝐹!𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 ೃ ( 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝟣 )

summary: you’ve been an apprentice under the great and terrible oz for awhile, trying to read the grimmerie. you’re focus on studying is faltering because of the person you expected least of all: the wizard himself.

note: i realized i had been typing all my stories in lowercase, as i usually do, but i went back and changed it to proper grammar so people are not offput by the all lowercase! part 3 of the other wizard story tonight or tmr! <3 if this plot seems a bit messy, that’s my fault! ill obviously go back and clean it up. just wanted to get something out today.

disclaimer: older man x younger woman, ill add as i go

🕰️ . *. ⋆

Moonlight poured through the large window behind you, the moon half obscured by the green curtains you had covered half the window with. A large stack of textbooks covered most available surface space, pages generously covered with notes and bookmarks. You paced the room back and forth, boots clicking on the hardwood as you mumbled the reading material to yourself in the darkness. Your wand, a beautiful gift from Madam Morrible, was gripped tightly in your free hand as you waved it around slowly. You had lost track of time, and the words were becoming barely legible at this point. Sleep seemed like too much of a luxury, not when you were on the cusp of magical proficiency. You were an all-powerful witch in the making, as so many had assured you.

“Theres great potential in you, dear. You must harness it properly.” Madame Morrible had said to you one evening. Whatever potential you had, it surely was playing hard to get. You’d tap into it soon. You closed the book with a soft thud, setting it on-top of another book near your desk. Using the moonlight for guidance, you made your way to a different stack of books. Dropping to your knees, you squinted as you read the titles on the spines. You needed something on.. well, it was hard to get your thoughts straight when your bed seemed to be calling you..

Shaking your head, you stood slowly, eyes half-lidded. A short trip to the library and back wouldn’t hurt. Then, you’d go straight to sleep. You smiled to yourself, the plan formulating in your head. Trudging your way to your door, you opened it with a light tug and stepped into the vast hallway that looked endless in the darkness. The palace was quite nice in the light, and the view was spectacular from your mini-apartment the wizard had made for you. Even better, it was a short walk from the library, and an even shorter walk from the wizard’s bedroom. He must be asleep, though you weren’t going to check.

Gently shutting your door behind you, you began walking. Your footsteps seemed louder with the echo that followed each step, and the darkness was alot colder than anticipated. The lights had been turned off, only the light streaming in from the window being able to guide you. Your hand found the wall, and you used it to keep you a little more stable. You weren’t sure how far you had gotten, but you were stopped by a familiar voice.

“Uh.. [name], is that you out here?” He asked, sleep evident in his tone.

You stopped walking, your heart skipping. “Yes, it’s me.. I need to go to the library.” You explained, willing your voice to steady. You could see him faintly in the moonlight, dressed in a silky green robe that was tied uncharacteristically loose and exposed a little of his chest. His hair was slightly ruffled, as if he had just woken up. “I need.. a few more books.”

“It’s very late. The library will be there come morning.” He assured, walking towards you.

“I just need to pick up one.. or two books, then I can have all the study materials I need for the morning.” You met him halfway, getting small whiffs of his rich cologne.

With an elegant wave of his hand, he seemed to dismiss your concerns entirely. “You should really get some rest. First thing in the morning, we can go to the library.” He placed a hand on the small of your back, and the touch, while small, still sent a shiver up your spine. There was no harm in waiting until the morning, you rationalized.

“You’ll walk me back to my room?” You muttered softly, allowing him to lead you back down the hall.

“Of course, dear.” He replied. The walk after was silent, but the quiet was more comforting than anything. The studying could wait, you supposed. What felt like seconds later, you were back at your door. Though he had removed his hand, the ghost of his touch still lingered. Perhaps it was the fatigue. Sighing, you looked back at him.

“I’ll be able to read the grimmerie soon, right?” You asked, your voice almost a whisper.

“Very soon. You’re making good.” He responded. The encouragement was nice to hear, but you still had some questions.

“How’d you do it? Did you have to study alot, too?” You didn’t know too much about how he read the grimmerie, but as his trusted apprentice, you figured you should know.

“It just.. came naturally to me. But it doesn’t for everyone.” He answered, almost too quickly. “You, however,” he gently cupped your face, “are almost there. Just be patient.”

You murmured something in agreement, completely distracted by him. Maybe it was the sleep you desperately needed, or how gentle his voice was..

“Now, goodnight. Get some rest.” He said, turning back down the hall. You watched him walk away, until you could barely see him in the darkness and his bedroom door shut behind him. You glanced at your bedroom door, reluctantly opening it and stepping inside. You sat on the edge of your bed, resting your elbows on your knees and resting your head in the palm of your hand. Your face felt warm still, and you sighed. You would feel better immediately after getting some rest, and you couldn’t be exhausted tomorrow if you were going to do more studying. You hastily removed your shoes, pulling back your plush green covers and getting under them. You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths as you willed sleep to come to you.

🕰️ . *. ⋆ part 2 soon!

[kenjo-arts]

Your AweSamDream art has given me so many brain worms how do you make your lines so thin and smooth??? Any time I try ultra thin lineart it always looks very... first time digital artist.

For me it was first i found a brush i liked and then I slowly just kept making it smaller or the canvas bigger. It's a gradual thing and I honestly don't really know what I do or don't do to make the lineart look good. I think maybe part of it is me doing alot of detailing?

I'll put some examples under the cut!

I don't know if these examples will help because I have no idea what im actually doing and can only guess based on what i think i might be doing æsldkjfælksd I colour my lineart which kinda hides(?) the mess a bit sometimes, smooths it out.

I think its important to note that my lineart isn't actually that smooth, it's kinda messy and sketchy alot because i don't put alot of details on my sketches (comparatively) and i dont follow the sketch perfectly when i line. my lineart would probably count as a detailed sketch for many. (the colouring helps alot!)

For an example c!dreams leather armour! in sketches or older arts its more flat where i draw more dimension to it now which also lets me add damage to the leather which i like doing because otherwise i end up feeling the lineart is "empty?" if theres too much space with no lines

I also paint on top of lineart when i don't like how it looked! (link to timelapse of this art)

In the second example i used a round brush for a new way i like with drawing hair! which is why as i wanted to use my favourite brush in this art, i made the lines so small so i could have more lines in the hair! as my favourite bush is fixed in a flat 20 degrees!

My sketches are generally pretty thick lined compared to what i end up lining so many times one line in the sketch becomes two lines in the lineart! i also draw pretty quickly which I'm happy with for the loser energy it gives the lineart (even tho colouring in the lineart can be a pain when i cant just select it all because of so many goddamn holes) But ultimately when you zoom in you can tell its not that smooth, its just smooth-sketchy but throughout it all which makes it conhesive! (i think) (maybe)

the fact c!dream is my own design i know basically on the back of my hand also helps! it means i can just slap it out without really thinking that hard about it because im so practiced ! (which is why i draw him alot lmaoooo) when i dont know a character as well i stuggle more with thinner lineart because i keep refrencing back instead of just doing what i want. when i draw new characters i usually start thicker and then slowly get thinner lines as i figure out how i want them to be drawn.

[moonshynecybin]

the way Marc’s diplopia issues in MotoGP could translate so well into concussions episodes in a hockey AU (just like Sid…)

the head injury of it allllll.... its crazy because motogp injury is USUALLY (not always) caused by incidental contact or a personal fuck up. "racing is a contact sport rubbing is racing" okayyyyy but not like hockey lol. in motogp you USUALLY arent making contact on purpose (no one crashes for fun) and when you DO make contact it is almost ALWAYS on the limit. while often hockey injury (ESPECIALLY HEAD INJURY) is caused by a hit. could be a dirty hit could be a clean one, but usually its cuz a guy decided to hit you very hard with his body personally. theres a lot more.... agency in the injury? which feels bad bc not everyone is running around concussing people but i think its fair to say theres more interpersonal violence with INTENT to be violent even if its like. a fairly innocent shove on the forecheck. touching people on purpose. cause and effect. you are injured because of someone. thats comparatively rare in motogp

all this to say. known injury weirdo vale (and i hesitate to mention this but part of the reason he is that way is BECUASE he was involved in a tragic accident that injured another person). in a contact sport. vs marc. famously most injured man alive including in his head. in another sport that LOVES to ignore concussions. add famous rivalry. add playoff hockey hit lenience. and i can see marc (head already fragile/diplopia'd up when he was in juniors) falling weird when vale is trying to muscle him in the corners and getting his noggin absolutely scrambled. and now we have to deal with vale as CAUSER of marc injury. where he's out for months. in a dark room. doing his eye exercises and cuddling shira and MAYBE it was during the playoffs so alex had to convince marc not to try and get on the fucking ice and vale is in the same city all the time feeling like his heart is getting pulled out through his SPINE because its one guy to convince yourself a rival is evil it is ANOTHERRRR for injury weirdo to actually and for real hurt someone he loves. like if you look at them in motogp thats not vale's bag at all during the marc years. even with him being a criminal against sete in 2006 he never pulls that shit out post sepang 2011. and i think if he managed to actually INJURE marc. well i think he might feel so bad he shows the fuck up at this door

so its. hushed tense voices in the hall (alex and vale). vale climbing into bed with him in the dark. holding ice over his forehead. playing cards to keep him occupied and off his phone. reminding him to do his eye exercises. taking him to appointments contacting the diplopia specialist... and marc is brain foggy and confused and needs comfort and just WANTS IT so badly that he doesnt question it too much... lets himself take a little... and vale is there... like truly vale LOVES to take care of people, acts of service is his love language, and he is. FANTASTICALLY guilty. so hes trying to fix it anyway he can. but then the playoff series passes. and marc gets a little bit better. and there isnt a REASON for him to be there. and marc might be edging on asking him wtf hes doing there in the first place. and one day marc rolls over and vale is GONE.... because hes like okay. well marc is better now so i should go WALLOW in my GUILT. which of course to vale looks like pretending it never effected him at all while being secretly very kind about the whole thing. because he SUCKS !

[kingshovelbug]

im sorry but i need to geek out somewhere and screaming into the void on tumblr is less likely to get me flayed than on twitter, especially if i get terms wrong. plus i can do a read more and yall can click into the tech talk if you want to verse it bombarding your twitter timelines

so idk if i only liked it or if i actually put it in my queue but i saw a post that talked about a few pieces of tech that focus on user repairs and being sustainable (fairphone and frameworks laptop) and after doing some more research into what they have to offer i actually really excited that these products are finely hitting the us market and that people are moving away from the belief that super smooth streamlined glassy = the future. being able to reliably repair and keep what you have alive verse throwing the whole thing away when maybe all you needed to do is add more ram to your current laptop (something that i would do with my laptop to keep using it for a few more years if it wasnt glued shut and i was at risk of cracking the screen) or swap out a fuse.

i know big corporations dont like it but i truly do believe with how much tech we use on a daily basis that the way that we are going to be more environmentally friendly is to move back to tech that we can hang onto for as long as we can and to recycle and then reuse what we cant. like with the frameworks laptop. i saw that they just partnered with coolermaster to create a case specifically so that you can reuse you motherboard, cpu, etc and make a portable workstation. you could dual wield with the laptop you just upgraded if you want to dedicate specific tasks to one or the other. they also specifically mentioned that you could screw it into the back of a monitor and create your own all in one. guys thats cool as shit??? if you had a 3d printer and some time you could even create that yourself

on top of the actual hardware part moving to open source programs when your able. when i update my desktop i plan on running linux. it might have a learning curve compared to windows but in terms of performance??? ive heard that it runs smoother even on older machines, that its more efficient because isnt running stuff in the background that tracks your data and shit. now i understand that not everyone can do that because there are some programs that dont play nice with linux but for my needs at least it does everything i would need it to. and maybe a couple years down the road we do figure out how to run these programs on certain flavors of linux since its open source and people fiddle with it so much. (still looking for alternatives to like word and excel though, i use google docs since its free but i want to move away from them as much as i can too since they laid of their youtube music team (i believe?? it might of been a different branch) for trying to unionize)

if anyone knows of any other smaller companies that actually focus on sustainability and user repairability please let me know. theres certain pieces of tech that i think are now unfortunately behind a software repair paywall, things that used to be just machines and are gaining more bells and whistles like cars and refrigerators if that makes sense. but the more we push for these things to be repairable by us the consumers id hope that would change, or there would at least be options that dont need specific companies to repair them or else they blow up

[haveihitanerve]

Okay so theres quite a bit of Batcest hate out in the world- and I do have to admit, I view the Bats as family too, which is why I can understand, but there are certain ships that i understand, after all most of them are not related biologically at all, and are under no obligation to each other to be so, bruce literally says in one comic "Whether or not they're brothers is no matter, they're both my sons" or smth along those lines, pretty much his children may all be his children but that in no way has to make them siblings anyway im getting away from myself here, a list of batcest shippings i understand and my reasoning for why people might ship them together, if you don't wanna, don't read any further🙃

Bruce/Dick: Brudick is an old ship, actually, originally they were created as a gay couple, not openly, but heavily implied, and a way for people back in the day to "legally get married" was through adoption... Anyway I like BruDick when I see it because it just works Dick understands Bruce in a way no one else ever will, he was the first one, the original, his grief and experience mirrors Bruce's in a way that makes them so similar and yet so different, he is the light at the end of Bruce's tunnel, and theres just so much that can be written about them, angsty or fluffy, whether romantic or platonic

Jason/Tim: this one I also understand, to an extent, Tim needs someone who cares for him, Jason needs someone who understands him, Tim looked up to Jason, not as much as Dick but enough, he wants Jason to come back into the family, wants Jason and Bruce to forgive each other, he sees the good in Jason when no one else does, hes stubborn in his desire to mend their relationship- Jason on the other hand once he stops trying to kill Tim actually genuinely cares for him in a way he doesn't for anyone else in the Batfam, appreciates Tim's knowledge and perspective and I do believe, I honestly am not too sure on this, but he works with Tim first before anyone else??? i'm probs wrong on that one but I think... anyway I do like their pairing- it gives a nice contrast and they usually tend to love each other wholeheartedly, almost obsessively in the fics i read, which they kinda deserve, someone who loves them so much

Bruce/Jason: this one I get, but only after the pit. They're two sides of the same coin, Jason is only more willing to go for the final step and Bruce isn't, theres just so much of their morals that collide and snap, this honestly could just be a fic/pairing i like because of the angry smut and all, but yeah i like them, I feel like romance between them would make it easier for Bruce to get his point across about why he can't murder and why its wrong, and also vice versa

Dick/Jason: the two oldest, the ones who dealt with Bruce's shit the longest. Idk but something about them, they had almost personality flips, Jason was the happy go lucky one, then he went pit mad and now hes angry and snaps and Dick was the angry one hell bent on vengeance and now he's smiling and happy and trying to keep the fam together and all that, idk jason would let dick be angry again if they're a couple and let him release all the pent up anger/repressed inside and Dick would cool Jason's anger, bring back the joy in him, etc etc

Bruce/Tim: this one I'm still a lil on the fence about, I like it because it offers another side of Bruce and Tim's relationship, and it adds another way for Bruce to show he does actually care and appreciate and love tim and wants him in his life, and its another way for tim to soothe Bruce and bring him back from the edge and etc etc... don't have too much to add bc again im on the fence but yeah

so those are all that i got for now, yeah hope that maybe explained things better, probably just made things more confusing but i just had to get it out at one point :p overall i steer away from batcest in my fics and dont like to use it like that, theyre family, brothers sisters, parents in my heart, but sometimes theres just scenarios where they fit better as romantic partners... anyway thats all

[marimeeko]

Thinking lately about Izuku(a civilian now) getting caught up in some Villain shenanigans(think like a random hostage situation or heist/robbery)(he is literally at the wrong place at the wrong time) and the possibilities of what could happen.

The possibilities of the civilians recognizing him and hoping for him to save them? Him doing his best to keep them all together and calm?

The possibilities of whether or not the villains recognize him or slowly start to figure it out? Do they know he's actually Quirkless now and try to take advantage of that? Or do they think he still has powers and immediately try to restrain and overpower him?

How Izuku either fights back or tries to thwart the villains? How he stays quiet at first, but is observing and analyzing the crap out of them and their Quirks?(while it's technically illegal for him to act as a hero, he also wouldn't stand down if the villains were threatening to harm any of the hostages)

If he has an actual altercation with them? And what if he gets injured? (I imagine he can hold his own reasonably well in a hand to hand fight! He still trains and is in shape, maybe even spars with Kacchan, and he has that extremely high pain tolerance! But he still gets clocked especially if he's trying to prevent them from doing harm)

And what happens when GEMG DynaMight gets to the scene. And does Katsuki know before hand that Izuku is involved of find out afterward when Izuku is released with the hostages? Or when he busts in to stop them and sees Izuku himself??

Or do the villains know enough about Izuku and Katsuki to make Izuku their primary hostage and hold Izuku hostage for some sort of ransom or deal with DynaMight?

And do they know enough to know that that's pretty much a death wish for them?

How about Izuku being just cool as a cucumber even though they're threatening DynaMight bc he knows enough about these suckers now to know that they are no match for Dynamight....much less when he is ANGRY.

Or how bout Izuku actually trying to talk them out of their dumb idea (full on teacher voice activated) because he knows they're petty criminals who are acting this way for a reason, but they shouldn't add kidnapping to their rapsheet.

DynaMight busting in and busting them, of course, and putting the fear of god into the villains whenever he is aware of Izuku being involved. He takes it personally, maybe hitting the guy holding down izuku a little harder than the others before arresting them.

What about when Katsuki gets Izuku out of there, he fusses endlessly over Izukus injuries and bloody face, and refuses to let Izuku go home by himself(he needs to be monitored for a concussion, that's all!)

I MEAN WHY HAVE WE NOT THOUGHT MORE ABOUT THIS ASPECT THERES SO MUCH POTENTIAL HERE.

If this is a fic already I really want to read it... Daniart already made an art to this theme and I saw it today, meanwhile I have definitely been pondering it for a day or two *bkdk brainmeld*

[vitamin-cunt]

hiii im a new follower and can i request a dabi x fem!domme!reader

format is full fic but if you want can you also add some headcanons at the end

kinks to add

•sadisim (reader

•masochism (dabi)

•dumbification

•frotteurism (ok idk if you make your fics automatically match with your blog theme [hospital for horny mfs like me] but can you make it so that dabi is a paitient of a hospital for sub people and reader is his most favorite doctor so theres alot of intimacy)

•master and pet themes (reader makes dabi wear a collar, very very short maid dress with frilly black lingerie, cat ears and a cat tail butt plug)

and can you make it so that the reader has a genital type quirk were reader can give people the genitals of the opposite gender and do it to herself without removing their original genital (ex. reader gives dabi a vagina and clit while still having a dick)

A/N: anon I'm in love with you. I'm on one knee rn, you have no idea (Tired asf gonna go proofread this in the morning)

CW: As stated in the ask above, GN! Pronouns, cock mentioned (can be interpreted as a strap tho), Dabi has a pussy at some point (idc, idc there's the door), fingering said pussy

Making a broken man of Dabi

What the fuck was he doing here?

Like, seriously, why the fuck was he here???

It was a strange situation, really. A hospital for incredibly lewd individuals to seek treatment-

And he of all people was here?

He didn't have lewd desires, just-

Well, fuck, he couldn't have normal sex but that didn't require an intervention or whatever this was.

He ran his tongue over his teeth as he rolled over in his hospital bed. Even the uniform was weird-

He was in a maid outfit. A black, short-ass maid dress.

"Awww, look at him blush~ Let me have him, I think we're gonna like each other."

His face burned furiosuly at the memory. When he was first admitted, he'd been uncooperative with pretty much everyone. The "doctors,"(if that's what you could even call them), the nurses, even other patients, because he wasn't like them, dammit!

He wasn't some sex-obsessed lunatic that fucked any hole in sight, he just-

He liked certain things. A lot more than most people did, but that was fine. At least he thought it was fine.

He'd scared off all but one of the staff.

You.

He couldn't make you disappear and, for whatever reason, he'd come to appreciate your presence.

You treated him more human than anyone did in this God-forsaken hell-hole. You checked on him, catered to his needs, listened to his moans and groans about this place...

He swallowed down the excitement as he realized you would be coming in today.

The one thing that set you apart from the staff was that you knew what buttons to press with him.

"I think this thong will look so cute on you~"

"You did such a good job touching yourself for me!"

"Be a good boy and lift your ass up just a little higher for me."

It was like you could read his mind.

Yeah, that was Dabi's "problem." He liked being a toy.

Your toy.

He'd always known he had a thing for being treated like shit, but he tried to keep it on the down-low.

Too bad Daddy dearest found out.

A knock came at his door, and before he could even sit up, you were entering the room, an oddly wide grin on your face.

"How's my favorite patient?"

He narrows his eyes and rolls over in his bed to face you and the door. In your hands was a duffel bag of god knows what. "You're only this happy when you have shit to try on me," he says, eyeing the bag and trying to guess what was making those bulges from every angle in it.

You laugh and ignore him despite his bite of a response. "God, Dabi, what did I tell you about keeping these blinds open?" You walk over to his window blinds and sharply close them shut, leaving the room in the eerie purple glow of the lights above. "How are you going to masturbate with any privacy in this place?"

"What, you want me in the dark all the fucking time?" He hoists himself up on one elbow and follows you as you unpack your supplies. "Yeah, the one thing that gets me hard is a dank-ass hospital room."

"Mmm, just that? Not your favorite doctor?" You fake a pout, hand halfway in the duffel. "Even after I stretched that ass last night? Even after I played with those tits?"

He throws his head back, outwardly in exasperation and inwardly with a humming arousal in his chest. Even his low sigh could be confused for an excited groan.

And one wouldn't be wrong in thinking that.

"Why do you always..." he covers his hot face, trying to put into words what he wanted to say without sounding absolutely pathetic.

But, how could one get any more pathetic laying in a maid outfit in a rehabilitation hospital for the most debauched and depraved sex-addicts?

He swallowed and began again. "You're always describing my body like...like...you know I don't have those parts, right?"

After a moment of silence, he peeks between his hand to find you smiling down at the cat ears and cat butt-plug in your hands.

Your favorites.

When you look up, its with a craze in your eyes. And why should he be surprised?

Only the most depraved could work here.

"You're saying it would make more sense to use those words if you had those..."parts?" You tilt your head innocently. Well, as innocently as someone could with a bottle of lube in their hands now accompanying the lewd accessories.

"I guess," he muttered, his hand sliding down to his jaw and muffle his voice.

He was glad you couldn't see his cock twitching to life beneath his skirt. He loved that face. The look in your eyes right before you fuck him dumb.

"Can I show you a trick?" you ask, approaching his bed and laying your "materials" next to him. "You know the position, get in it, baby," you command, before he can answer your first question.

It always takes some time to follow your first order, but he always does it. Even now, with his head buried in his folded arms and his ass in the air, exposing his thong.

"Happy?" he bites, even through the muffle of his pillow.

He hears you donning your gloves and next came the sound of lube squirting from a bottle.

"We'll tell the insurance this was a prostate exam."

A cold finger pushes itself against the entrance of his hole and then inside him, sliding in easily.

He groans in arousal and discomfort. He guessed it wasn't entirely an entirely normal thing to prefer the feeling of surgical gloves to human fingers, but why give this hospital further justification to keep him here?

"Don't rock, baby, I've told you this before."

Right. He was already fucking himself back against your fingers despite only one being inside.

Your other gloved hand rubs his ass, lifting up the skirt to see the skin beneath it.

"You're still a little red from yesterday, so I'm not gonna spank you today."

He simply nods, hypnotized when you slip in a second finger. And then a third, and, fuck, even a fourth.

This couldn't even count as prepping when you were hitting his g-spot so earnestly that you had him moaning into his pillow. But he had, notably, reduced his writhing because, dammit, you made him want to be obedient.

And just like that, you'd slipped your fingers out, leaving him feeling empty.

"Fuck, if you're gonna prep, then fucking prep, don't..." he swallows as he realized he'd crossed a line.

Never back talk.

"I-I just mean...because it's like you're teasing..." he stutters out weak follow-up after weak follow-up, trying to backtrack from his outburst.

But, to his shock, you don't get angry at him. You laugh, in fact. Soon, something metal was pressing against him and after a moment, the metal plug end of the cattail slips inside him and slotted itself perfectly as he'd grown accustomed to.

Even then he arches his back and pants.

What were you playing at?

Any other day you would have punished him to senseless tears for the way he talked to you, but now?

He's pulled from his pondering when you adorn him with the cat ears.

"On your back, Kitty," you say, walking away to change your gloves. He obeys, wondering if you were going to come back with a cock ring like you'd had last night.

But, besides the fresh pair of gloves, you'd come back empty-handed.

He was really concerned now, especially as you mounted the bed with a grin that left his thighs trembling and his mind buzzing.

"Fuck's going on?" He growled, testing his luck with his mouthiness.

You don't answer, instead choosing to lean forward and press your lips to his. He'd kissed you before, but this...

Why was he suddenly hot? Like, burning, he...he hadn't activated his quirk, had he?

Suddenly, a buzzing emerged from between his legs. Then, a dampness in his thong. Finally, a sudden wave of inexplicable pleasure.

"Wh-what the fuck!? Why do I- mmmmh, it's not supposed to feel wet down there, what did you- ahhh- what did you do???"

He squirmed beneath you, the hospital bed creaking loudly as it usually did during your encounters. His face burned as a new warmth overtook his loins, one that he'd never felt before.

He rubbed his thighs together, trying to rid himself of the incessant ache, but you place your knees between them before he can really do anything.

"Why're you so freaked out?" You say above him, removing your scrub top. "It's just sex therapy!"

"Bullshit." His eyes scan your bare chest and abdomen, having seen it for the first time ever, really.

You laugh lightly through your nose. "Okay...Just sit still while your master plays with your little pussy, okay?"

"I told you, it's weird when- ah- haaah~ fuck!" His eyes went wide as your fingers slipped past his thong and inside him.

But not his ass.

All he heard was the slick squelch of your fingers penetrating him, and before he knew it, he was arched against his bed, gasping and reaching for the thin, cheap sheets above him.

He couldn't stop the moans, the uncharacteristic whines, the sounds coming from his- his-

"Your pussy's dripping for me, baby~" you laugh.

You gave him a pussy. What was worse was that you gave him a pussy and he liked it.

He could feel you scissoring in his walls, just like you did in his ass but it was different, this wasn't the same, it would never be the same-

He covered his face, you couldn't see him like this. Fine, make him wear the tail and the ears, keep him in the outfit, watch him roll his hips against your hand as you fold your fingers inside him-

But he'd be damned if he let you see the blissed tears running down his burning cheeks.

"Are you gonna cum, already?" You tease, noting his tells. His moans turning to breathless pants and a repeat of soft "uhn, uhn, uhn", his thighs trembling, his covering his face. "I didn't even get my dick inside you yet!"

You inside him? When he could feel every movement of your fingers, the aching of his- his clit-

He couldn't take it, even the idea of being filled-

"Not yet, Kitty." You removed your fingers from inside him, once again rendering him empty.

But it wasn't the same, this time, this time he felt as though he could cry. The tears fell faster now, he couldn't even hide them.

What were you doing to him?

He was crying because you wouldn't keep fingering his pussy!?

Furthermore, he was rejoicing when you'd slipped a bit of your cock inside him, his pussy clenching around nothing but air and your tip.

This is crazy, this is insane-

"Ohhh shitttt, ohhh shittt~ yes, fill me up, fill me up!"

He sounded insane-

"I know it's against protocol to directly penetrate your patients, but for you?" You whisper as you lean down and it let him get adjusted. "I couldn't let anyone else be the first person to use this pussy~"

You quickly grow impatient of letting him adjust and it shows because soon, light rocking turns to full-on thrusts in and out of him, fuck the slapping noise it made, fuck the squelching noise it made, fuck how loud he got-

Fuck, he was so loud-

He doesn't know what to do with himself but sit back and take it. Take getting pounded mercilessly like a little bitch.

"Seems like after tonight, you'll fit in with the other patients, hm?" You grab his jaw and turn his dissenting face back in your direction. "Think I trained my Kitty well, don't you?"

He could barely understand you, not with you grabbing the tops of his thighs and pulling his hips down into yours as you slam up into him.

"Tell me you deserve to be here, baby. Tell me you're just a depraved sex slut like the rest of the patients."

He wanted to reply, he really wanted to, but how could he when his tongue was sticking out of his mouth and his eyes were stuck in the back of his head?

"C'mon, baby, I know you can do it. Tell me you're no different, c'mon, let me hear it, baby."

"Haaaah, I'm n-no different! I-I'm the same! I deserve this!"

It wasn't much, but even you knew that he would cum before you could get more out of him, at least at the rate you were going. And, frankly, you didn't want to stop.

In fact, you wanted to take things a step further.

You grab his cock, the same cock that he'd barely registered still having, and began stroking.

And that was all that it took for Dabi, because seconds later he was clenching around you as tight as he could and cumming. It was almost like a double orgasm, what with his spurting white cum onto his black dress, and cumming clenched around you. White hot shocks sent his paralyzed body into brief jerking motions and the pleasure was immense beyond his understanding.

He would deal with the implications of this event when he wasn't still coming down from his high.

"Remember this the next time you complain about how I describe you, Dabi. Because you might just get what you wish for."