#these two don't even register as the same character anymore

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

Dude's always chewing on that thumb

[nexus-nebulae]

now that we're looking into our body past and finding way more signs that we've been plural for god knows how long, we've been leaning into more of the things we used to do very naturally to express our plurality and it's been kinda fun

[skyahri]

Unplanned |Naruto Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki, Shikamaru Nara, and Kakashi Hatake

Summary: Pregnancy scenarios 'cause I can.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy. Bad words. All fluff.

Masterlist Ko-fi

- - - - -

Sasuke Uchiha

He isn't the kind of guy to outwardly dote on you.

He's never been good with words or physical touch, more so preferring quality time together. You sleep in the same bed, eat meals together when it's convenient, and lounge around together when time allows.

When you come home from a last minute doctor's appointment with some big news, none of that really changes.

He assures you that he's happy, that he loves you, and this is all wonderful, but that's about all you're going to get out the emotionally constipated man.

However, while words may not be his strong suit, actions certainly are.

It's become painfully obvious that you are never allowed to go anywhere alone ever again.

He's like a shadow, following you everywhere and anywhere you decide to go. It doesn't matter that you're just running to the market- he's coming with. Ino invited the girls over for a dinner party? Cool, he'll walk you there, hang around in the shadows outside, then walk you home.

When questioned, Sasuke only says that he doesn't trust other people. Already knowing how he is, you don't push him any further. (Not that he'd entertain you if you did.)

People notice pretty quickly. He's not subtle and it's not exactly common for the Uchiha to be so openly clingy.

You wanted to keep the pregnancy a secret for a little while longer. You knew that his status would make the whole thing bigger than you'd like and it was still so early, only about eight weeks in. But people were becoming more and more insistent with their questions.

"Seriously, did something happen? He's been watching you like a Hawk for the past month."

"It was cute at first, but now it's straight up creepy."

Sakura and Ino dramatically shiver at the notion. You laugh, imagining how unsettling this all must look from the outside.

"It's fine, I promise. He's just been a little overprotective since he found out I was pregnant."

They don't register it at first. They just nod in understanding and move to sip their tea. You can almost see it click in their heads before they slam down their cups and start freaking out.

"Wait, WHAT?"

Naruto Uzumaki

"Congratulations! Based on the ultrasound, I'd say you're about five weeks along. It's still early, but you can see a tiny sac right here-"

Your mind is going a thousand miles a minute, thinking of everything and nothing as the doctor points out the tiny, centimeter-long blob in the picture.

Naruto had been bugging you for the past three weeks about a smell. He swears it's nothing bad, just that Kurama is insisting that your scent has changed and- blah, blah, blah. You never could get any more information out of him, which just left you to eventually cave and visit the doctor. Animals have instincts for a reason and who were you to ignore them?

Turns out, that damn fox was right.

After a half-hour lecture on what you can and can't do anymore, you were handed a goodie bag of essentials and sent on your way.

You barely remember the walk home. Your mind was completely blank as it tried to process the news. It wasn't until Naruto was standing in front of you in the doorway to your home that you finally snapped out of the trance.

You stared up at him. His eyebrows were knit together and he was asking if everything was alright. He pulled everything out of your hands and not-so-gently set them on the floor.

"I'm pregnant."

His eyes blew wide and not even a second later he was smiling, pulling you into him and spinning you around. It's over just as quickly as it started. He's setting you back down on your feet and looking you over, mumbling a few hollow apologies for manhandling you. He takes a deep breath, that lopsided grin on his face never leaving.

"You're pregnant."

Just those two words have all the fog clearing from your head. Reality is forced onto you in an instant. In any other situation, it might have made you dizzy, but right now you couldn't be happier.

"I'm pregnant."

Shikamaru Nara

He really should've seen this coming.

Honestly, with how careless he is with protection, it's a wonder how you hadn't gotten pregnant sooner. A year and some change of not bothering with condoms and lazy, half-assed pullouts had finally come to bite him in the ass.

Although he knows this is all going to be horrifically bothersome, he can't find it in himself to be all that bothered. No, not when you're standing in front of him so nervously, little tears gathering on your waterline as you hold out a slip of paper for him to take.

He pulls you into a hug- a very tight, very intimate hug. One of his hands is on your lower back, pressing you into him, and the other is in your hair to cup the back of your head. He can feel the stress start to melt from your body as you relax into him, your arms moving to loosely hold him back.

"I'm sorry. I know this wasn't exactly planned..."

It definitely wasn't planned. He didn't like to think about things too hard. The only talk about the future he'd engaged in was a brief confirmation that you were both interested in pursuing each other exclusively and that neither were against marriage and kids.

But even though this was sudden and unprompted and definitely not what he was expecting when you asked to talk with him privately, he just couldn't find it in himself to be anything other than pleased. Sure, he would've liked to wait a few years and it preferably be after he'd properly proposed and married you, but none of that is deterring him.

He loved you. He didn't say it as often as he probably should, but that didn't make it any less true. You were easygoing and passive and fit into his life with no resistance. His friends liked you, possibly more than they did him. You liked to cook and he never had to worry about you causing trouble.

This was fine.

Not troublesome in the least.

"No, this is... good."

Kakashi Hatake

He was positive he was sterile. He'd have to be after all the injuries and trauma he's sustained, right? Four years and not a single scare, yet here you were, apparently three months pregnant, handing him a report from the OB's office.

He couldn't even form a sentence. He just sighed and sat back onto the couch with his eyes closed. It's only eight in the morning, it's too early for this, not that there'd ever be a great time.

"I knew you weren't going to be thrilled, but now I'm starting to get nervous. Can you please say something?"

He held his arm up and gestured for you to come towards him. When he could feel you brush against him, he grabbed your wrist and carefully yanked you onto his lap. You let out a relieved, albeit hesitant, chuckle as he slowly wrapped himself around you, his head finding solace in the crook of your neck.

The two of you stayed like that for a little while until he let out the loudest, most dramatic groan you'd ever heard leave his mouth, followed by a mumbled 'are you sure?', to which you rolled your eyes.

"Yes, I'm sure. Here, you can see for yourself."

You unfold the paper and pulled out a few pictures. He shifts you around so you're at a better angle before he takes them into his hands. It's obvious that he has no idea what he's looking at- just that the blob is already baby-shaped and very, very intimidating.

You point out some of the obvious things, the head and feet and such, before moving down to the very last photo at the bottom.

"And that little spot right there means that we're having a boy."

"I thought they couldn't tell the gender until later."

"It is later, Kashi. Fourteen weeks."

He lets you take the pictures from him so he can set his hand on your stomach. You'd mentioned gaining a little weight recently, which he honestly hadn't noticed, but now he's wondering how he could've missed it as he brushes his fingers over the slightest most obvious bump in your usually flat stomach.

He must've been zoned out for too long, because you're calling his name and setting your hand over his. He hums, a slight acknowledgment that he's heard you, but you know he's not actually listening.

He's too busy thinking about diapers and bottles and late nights and early mornings. How his son is going to be in the same class as his student's kids. How Gai is going to be a hundred times more annoying in the coming years.

But then a single thought completely derails his spiraling. He wonders what your baby will look like. If he'll be a morning person like you or like to take naps like him. If they'll accel in genjutsu or not, because while he certainly does, you most certainly don't.

He's spent time with Kurenai and Mirai. While raising a person definitely seemed difficult, he couldn't deny that Kurenai was happy. Actually, despite Asuma's untimely death, she's the happiest he'd ever seen her.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just... thinking about how annoying it'll be to tell everyone we're expecting."

"Seemed more like panicking to me."

"... shut up."

[freyito]

Can you do Smoke and Reptile, sfw, them burying their face in readers boobs, using them as a pillow and how they’d react to reader to reader doing it back to them? You could do somthing suggestive.

I'm curious also, besides Kenshi and Kuai Liang who else are you a fan of?

imma be honest anon, this is such a fire idea. when i was at this a7x concert me and my friend saw a guy with double ds. like. BODACIOUS bro. that was the first thing our eyes went to. he looked like jesus christ brother. he spoke like he had a message from the gods.

anyways. to answer your question. sentimentally i'm very attached to Kitana and Scorpion in general, i played Kitana when mk9 came out (i was 7, my dad let me play mk when i was SEVEN) and my dad played Scorpion and i always got my ass handed to me. but he worked a lot and playing mk9 was the only time we really got together when i was a kid. with mk1, we've been able to play a lot more together and it reminds me of those times, it's really fun. now i win about half the matches we play, but i just don't play Kitana anymore. i really do prefer Kenshi.

I am actually married to Johnny Cage and Kenshi, soooo Also, to be honest, the first characters to draw me into Mk1 were Smoke & Sub-Zero. Hadn't really been a big Sub-Zero fan beforehand, not of Bi-Han or Kuai Liang. So it was fun having that revelation. And Tomas is just super cute, I actually love that he's Czech. We're not the same, but hey, we're atleast both slavic. I dont know why, I just love finding Slavic characters cause more often then not I end up relating to them. Sorry for the monologue, anon. Here's your boob request :P

cw: gn reader cause everyone can have boobs brother, bonus character!, proofread

"ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴘɪʟʟᴏᴡꜱ" || ᴛᴏᴍᴀꜱ & ꜱʏᴢᴏᴛʜ

-Tomas Vrbada

Tomas loves nothing more at the end of the day than getting to bury his face in your chest. As long as you two are in private, he'll wiggle his way into you somehow.

Half the time you two have together, he's face down in your chest, it is a regular occurrence and will stay a regular occurrence.

Does he do anything other than that? No. He's planking. He's in love, man, you can't blame him.

So, when you find him laying on the bed that one fateful night, defenseless, you give him the same treatment. You climb onto the bed, and slink your way into his arms.

He reaches out for you absent-mindedly, running his hands through your hair. Then you strike. You plank right into HIS boobs. He hasn't even registered yet. But you understand why he does it to you. Even if you can't breathe, it's somehow euphoric.

Tomas pauses, looks down at you. And his face flushes. You can feel his body temperature rise. He doesn't know how to react, he's been caught in just an inconvenient situaton.

He doesn't complain, though. He's just flustered. Real flustered. He holds you close after he can find his composure, still unsure but grateful of your touch.

-Syzoth

Syzoth almost always makes a dive for your chest when you two are cuddling. He'll be tangled up with you- quite literally, the man really enjoys being as close as possible- and still find a way to bury his head into your chest.

Doesn't matter how much you dodge out of it, he's going to wrap himself around you and find your chest somehow, someway.

But, he thinks he's free of this torment. He gets to lay his head in your chest, and run off freely. He does it when you two nap, when you cuddle, wherever, whenever.

You find him one night, after a long day and seize your chance. And your boyfriends boobies. Without a second chance you throw yourself at Syzoth, aiming directly for his chest.

You can see him realize in that moment what's happening. And you can see the exact look of 'awh fuck', almost as if in slow motion. And when you finally get to lay your head onto his sweet, sweet, pillows, he gives up right then and there.

Syzoth accepts the love, completely. He might act all pouty because you robbed him of his favorite thing to do, but secretly he loves it. You can almost hear him purr.

-Bonus Points! Bi-Han

Bi-Han doesn't really find himself buried in your chest too often. Mainly because he feels like he's controlled for that. He's thought about it, but refuses to do it.

But let's be honest, how can you not shove your face in his tits? They're massive, H cups AT LEAST. So you stalk your boyfriend, until you can find a private moment between you two.

He doesn't know your game, but he does know you've been following him. He's not annoyed, he's simply confused as to why you won't directly approach him.

So, when you ambush him, he's only slightly prepared. You go straight for his boobs. And you land directly in between them. Silence washes over you two.

Bi-Han doesn't understand. Part of him doesn't want to. So he simply wraps his arms gently around your waist and pulls you closer. He kind of thinks you're in need of comfort.

© freyito, 2023 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS

[callahanisms]

tell me

instead of writing a fic, i settled on writing just a general collection of headcanons. these are gender neutral. and uh, i'm on a mission to convert my friend to the swann arlaud agenda.

anyways watch anatomy of a fall on a big screen. don't do what i did, which is just watch it on my laptop. movie is too good to be watched on a laptop. and also be a streaming service.

these are gender neutral, by the way.

part 02

character: vincent renzi (aka. hot lawyer from anatomy of a fall)

for vibes: "tell me" by fifty fifty

moving to france wasn't on your list of things to do when you were in your early teens. it was such a drastic move. but unfortunately, it made sense because your mother was a film scholar who specialized in french film and she got a job to teach at a prestigious university. it was an opportunity she had to take and you were brought along for the ride.

picking up french was not that hard. you learned in school and also picked it up from the films your mother watched. you remembered watching Cléo from 5 to 7 a lot. maybe you shouldn't have, considering its themes. being immersed in the environment helped you pick up on it quicker.

all to say, you were fluent by the time you reached university.

you don't remember which class you met him in. you just know you got put in a group together for introductions. typical first year stuff.

"vincent renzi."

he had a boyish charm to him. he looked younger than you, yet you were the same age. there was still some baby fat on his cheeks.

your smile was warm. "(y/n)."

he became one of your first friends.

university was a rough transition period. you left your old friends behind. you didn't like them that much anyways. they didn't seem to like you either. so, you essentially came into university without many friends.

it's a gradual friendship, one that arises from meeting up consistently and then those meetings evolving into hanging out for hours.

doing schoolwork while drinking coffee, reading in the library, going out for dinner. hell even cooking for each other. it was a solid friendship.

it helped that you guys also wandered in the same social circle. so you also had mutual friends, including german exchange student sandra voyter.

they always talked about how you two were together. always seen talking. always seen outside of class. even when you guys had so much work to do and you shouldn't be with him because you guys ended up distracted and procrastinating your papers.

"why do you still have this?" he asks.

it was your third year of university. your place was small cozy. and it was affordable with your two other roommates. you guys had gotten lucky with the rent.

"have what?" you don't look up from your laptop. you were nearly finished with your paper.

"this."

you look up. vincent's holding up a dvd box with a beat up cover sleeve. the colors were faded and the cardboard was bent all over, creating multiple webs.

"because it's mine?"

"it's all beat up. wouldn't it be better to transfer to a new box?" he shrugs.

"my mother gave it to me when i graduated. it's...niche, i guess." you think about how she gifted you her favorite movie and the movie she has written a whole book about.

"everyone knows Céline and Julie Go Boating."

"not in that sense. just in the sense that my mother has an interesting way to mourn me leaving the house." you still stayed with her when you went back. but graduating really proved that you weren't a kid anymore. "i really liked it when i was younger. because of the colors. the rest of the stuff did not register with me. according to her, i kept asking her to put it on."

"you must have had an interesting taste as a child."

"well...she specializes in this stuff. so i'm not surprised."

"you don't even have a tv."

"okay well, i have it for novelty sake."

your eyes return to your laptop screen. you don't notice the way vincent's eyes linger on you, watching the way your fingers intently move as you finish up your paper. or how you furrow your brows when rereading your sentence and realizing it makes no sense. or the gentle curse beneath your breath when you realize you've forgotten a word in your sentence. he's never heard someone curse so gently.

he sets the dvd back where he picked it up from, feeling the worn out cardboard.

it was your birthday. such a scary time, for it to come so soon.

originally, you thought it was going to be you, vincent, sandra, and some of your other friends. after all, vincent was good as organizing group events and outings.

when you showed up at your usual meeting spot, it was just him.

"are they going to meet us there?" you question.

"we'll meet them after." he smiles.

"what is going on in that brain of yours?"

"you'll see."

when he takes your hand, your heart flutters. you've held hands before. but never did it make you feel so...light. like a cloud. you weren't sure if you were imagining your cheeks heating up slightly.

vincent leads you to a nearby cinema. he buys two tickets for a limited showing of Céline and Julie Go Boating.

"this is so..." you can't help but let out a laugh, staring at the movie ticket.

"why not? get the full experience." his eyes are gentle. there's tenderness in his gaze. it makes you feel all warm and gooey on the inside.

"you know the movie is...over three hours long right?"

"of course. that's why i picked an earlier showing. so we can get to dinner on time later."

being in the dark with your friend for over three hours. watching a movie about two people who were coded to be lovers. what could go wrong?

nothing, really. in the eyes of someone else.

to you, and to him, everything.

you haven't seen the film in forever. so rewatching it was like watching it for the first time without being distracted by the colors.

vincent couldn't watch the movie. he was more interested in the way your face shifted, how you whispered about not remembering that happening, how you laughed and the way your lips curled so cutely.

in truth, he could care less about the movie.

you were his favorite film.

as céline and julie were in a soap opera, enacting a hetero-normative plot, you turn to look at vincent. you were wondering how your friend was holding up.

your eyes meet his and your lips can't help but curl into a smile.

"are you watching?"

"of course." his eyes flicker to the screen for a brief moment.

"or were you watching me?"

"your reactions are interesting. they tell me what i should be thinking of the film."

"i shouldn't be the one you judge this film on."

silence between you two. the kind of comfortable silence you two are used to. but something feels more different. perhaps because it was dark. perhaps because the world seemed to fall away and it was just the two of you and the film faded into the background.

you were oddly close to him. your shoulders were touching. and if you moved forward, your noses would be able to touch.

you shift closer, causing his breath to hitch. "thank you for this, by the way." when you whisper, it is a message only meant for him.

"happy birthday." he says. he moves his face closer, heart pounding.

you want to meet him in the middle. you want to feel his soft lips against your own. and yet, something grips you hard. it's stomach curdling.

you move forward, your lips on his cheek. his eyes widen and his shoulders slump a little. you pull away. "it's...nice. to have the bestest friend i know."

"that's not a word." sadness settles in his eyes.

"all words are made up. so i can make up new ones."

in the moment you felt unsure about not making a move. that regret comes to follow you in your life.

graduation came too soon. way too soon.

you had decided to leave france for a bit, go to grad school abroad. somewhere else where you could pursue an mfa in creative writing.

it was your last coffee before you guys would graduate, inevitably separating.

vincent said he wanted to tell you something. it was urgent, something important to him. you could tell he wanted to spit it out.

or did he want to vomit because he was nervous?

"stop leaving me in suspense!" you take a sip of your coffee. "what is it?"

should he tell you?

should he confess?

he wants to tell you. oh so desperately. and yet, he feels it would be selfish to.

it's not about if you didn't feel the same way. to vincent, being rejected is the better scenario.

he didn't want to keep you grounded in france, a place you were looking to leave because you have spent a decent chunk of your life here. moving was good for you.

he worried that if you felt the same way, then maybe you would reconsider going away. and if you were looking to leave forever, he didn't want to be the thing keeping you here.

i love you. i have for a while. let's go on a date.

thirteen words. three sentences.

it was so miniscule. but he felt like atlas, carrying the sky. he was carrying a whole world.

vincent wipes his palms against his jeans. his heart was stuck in his throat. and his brain acted first.

"i got accepted into law school."

"that's great! oh my god!" you nearly squeal for him.

your happiness for him was enough.

writing a hit debut novel is no easy feat. and yet, you did it. people loved your novel.

the novel centered on two friends. their platonic bond ends up in a weird limbo, where there's romantic tension but neither wants to act upon it in fear. ultimately, the two friends reunite years after they separated, on different career paths. they meet at a conference, sit at a bar, and the novel ends with them rekindling their relationship. you left it up to the reader to interpret that being romantic or platonic. or even if they never talked to each other again after that night.

you were on fire as an author. and your recent publication, a collection of short stories, had become particularly famous. especially on social media.

you decided to go back to france for a few months. you wanted to spend more time with your mother and catch up with your friends. all of them you haven't seen since university.

unfortunately it also didn't mean you were on vacation. you still had to work. and you had many book signings to attend to.

when you look up to see the next person, your heart nearly lurches out of your chest.

vincent aged like wine. he still looked like how he did in university. less baby fat. gray hair. some wrinkles. but you liked it.

his eyes meet yours and he walks over. "my favorite short story was the one about the cow farmer."

"that came from a dream i had as an undergraduate student." you open the book and sign the first page. "how are you?"

"good. good. how about you?" he smiles. he's so radiant. you're reminded why you missed him. and why you felt regret in your body from all those years ago.

"well, you already know about me." you gesture to the books. your books. "have you...met up with sandra recently?"

"on the rare occasion. she's been traveling a lot. but recently she moved here. with her husband."

"her husband...samuel?" vincent nods. "he's an interesting character. from the few times i met him."

"they seem to be doing alright." he takes the signed book and peeks at what you wrote. there's a heart next to his name.

"we should talk more. catch up."

"if you're free."

you think for a second. "can you come back in thirty minutes? i should be done by then."

vincent smiles. he leaves the bookstore.

he's waiting outside for you after those thirty minutes.

[notanactressyay]

— ₊⊹ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐫 (𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞)

— ₊⊹ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 . Natasha Romanoff x reader

— ₊⊹ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 . she did. she allowed her feelings and past to take you away from her. now, guilt and confusion consumed her, and when the one chance to make everything right comes, she doesn't think twice before taking it. and you have to love her from afar. from somewhere you don't even know.

— ₊⊹ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 . major character death, the blip, Thanos, cursing, grief, breaking down, no happy ending.

— ₊⊹ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 . this is the second and last part to loving you silently. i didn't think i'd make a part two, but turns out i enjoyed writing angsty things. i'm switching accounts, my pinned explains everything.

fic started: june 23, 2024, 04:30am. | finished: june 23, 2024, 03:01pm.

dividers belong to: @saradika — ₊⊹ ★

the breakup messed up with her mind more than she initially thought it would have. you hadn't used the exact phrase "i am breaking up with you", but the way you said it, "when you become the Natasha i fell in love with again", it was almost the same thing. because she knew there was no way she was ever becoming the same old her.

during the whole 5 years, her mind was slowly being taken by her own pride and guilt, and the only thing keeping her grounded was you. she knew somebody was looking out for her, outside the prison of her brain. she knew that, when she finally manages to find a way and bring everybody back, things would be okay, and then, you'd live happily ever after.

but life unfortunately wasn't a fairy tale. you were a real person. and unlike her, you were way too ordinary to cope with a messed up individual like herself. you didn't learn how to manipulate people's emotions, or how to kill, or how to hide your true self. no one should learn those things anyway, but she did — and felt crazy for it.

and now that you had moved out of the compound to let your relationship breathe, the russian felt crazier than ever.

"stop squirming," Steve whispered as he used the wipe to clean the dry blood from Natasha's hands. "i know it hurts. but no more than breaking the whole kitchen. does it?"

"i lost," she murmurs, gaze fixated on a spot on the floor. clearly she wasn't listening to whatever captain america was saying. "i lost them. i-i lost everything,"

Steve takes a deep breath and throws the dirty wipes on the bin, grabbing the bandages. he scooted his chair closer to where Natasha was sitting, a defeated look on his face.

"i don't know what i am supposed to tell you." he admits, wrapping the bandages carefully around all the cuts and bruises on the spy's hands. "i watched you reject their love and care for you. i watched you pushing them away."

"i'm a lost cause," she murmurs — being cut off by a sob escaping her throat. a loud, pained sob, as the events of the past few days registered on her mind. she was still a human being to prevent a break down from happening. "i-i don't know what to do, Steve,"

his eyes shows concern as he finishes patching her up. he sighs heavily and pulls the woman into his arms, cradling her trembling frame, allowing her to cry. he takes a look around — the microwave, stove, windows, glasses, plates. everything breakable, Natasha had punched. they now despite everything, had a kitchen to reform.

— ₊⊹ ★

the street was empty. there were no cars, or no neighbors. you unfortunately — yes, unfortunately — had been one of the lucky ones who Thanos didn't snap. what was the point of continuing to live if you had no friends, no family, and now, not even your loved one anymore? giving her a time was supposed to feel freeing, but you had nothing to free yourself from. you had nothing other than that.

you kicked the suitcases inside your old house and shut the door close. the silence felt terrifying now. you felt like you could go insane anytime. you sat down by the doorframe and ran your hands through your hair, leaning your head back against the wall with a thud.

the atmosphere was so different from the Avengers Tower. previously, living with a bunch of superheroes was so fun. especially when you weren't one. you loved being in the middle of so many dangerous missions and sobrenatural stuff — little did you know it would become that.

you missed your best friends. the laughter shared with everyone. Tony, Bruce, Thor, Cap, Clint. Yelena and Kate too. Wanda.. and now it was just you. you, the faint blow of the wind. nothing else.

it was an endless nightmare that certainly couldn't get any worse. right?

your watch showed 7pm. you stood up and walked to the balcony, where you could see practically the whole New York, and the glow from the Tower you used to live. the stars were twinkling. your gaze locked on them, as you prayed for anything, anything that could see you, or sense you, to get you out of this.

— ₊⊹ ★

Natasha was back on her office, after making herself a couple of peanut butter sandwiches and tearfully biting on the bread. Tony walked in a few minutes later, holding a sleeping Morgan on his hip.

she raised an eyebrow, not speaking, not wanting to wake the little girl up. Tony sighed, siting on the sofa. he whispered to Natasha, knowing she could hear. "Steve told me about the kitchen. and about you. so i had to come."

the redhead sighed and nodded in acknowledgement, holding her bandaged hands up, chuckling humorlessly. "i'm a hundred percent lost. i don't think i have much time left, honestly."

"shush with that." Tony tsks and shake his head. he holds Morgan closer, watching as Natasha cleared her throat, her heart aching for what Tony had. "we'll figure something out,"

"easy for you to say," she whispers shakily, pointing her head at his daughter in his arms. he knows what she's talking about, but couldn't do much.

they fell in a silence again, before receiving a call on the panel. it had been ages since they received one. Tony frowned, sitting more upright. "is that an old message?"

"is there anyone home? this is Scott Lang. hi, hi! we met a few years ago at the airport? in Germany?! ant-man? i know you know that, i got Captain America here with me,"

"Scott, Scott. calm down. they can see us. wait until they open the gate."

"it's the front gate," Natasha weakly stands up and look at the image of ant-man and captain america, a tiny, tiny flicker of hope showing on her eyes as she thinks of the possibilities for them to be together.

as they allow the other two inside, Tony goes up to let Morgan sleep in one of the dormitories. Scott paces around, muttering to himself. Natasha watched, confused.

"Scott, calm down." Steve says, placing a hand on the man's shoulder to stop him. "let's tell them what happened, easy."

"have either of you guys ever studied quantum physics?" he asks, eyes searching around until they landed on Natasha's sandwiches. "is that anyone's sandwich? god, i'm starving." he rushes to the desk and grabs it, taking a giant bite out of it.

"only to make conversation," Natasha comments, narrowing her eyes.

"alright, so. five years ago, right before... before Thanos, i was in a place called the quantum realm. it is like it's own microscopic universe, you have to be incredibly small to get in there. i got stuck in there, for 5 years.. because.. the person supposed to pull me out was snapped."

"i'm sorry." the russian whispers, clearing her throat. "that must have been long five years."

"except it wasn't. for me, it was 5 hours," Scott continues, making Natasha frown even more. "time works differently there."

Tony seemed to get a finger on what he was talking about. he shook his head and shoved his hands into his jeans' pockets. "so you want us to navigate the quantum realm. you want to create a time machine."

"not a time machine. it's.. it's.. it's crazy, it's.." he mumbles, huffing frustratedly. "yes, a time machine."

"no, absolutely not." Tony says firmly, not having to think twice. "quantum fluctuation messes with the planck scale. which triggers the deutsch proposition. in layman's terms, means you're not coming home."

"Scott did." Steve shrugs, simply.

"no. he accidentally survived." iron man insists. "it's a billion to one cosmic fluke. and now you wanna pull your so called.. 'time heist'?"

"the stones are in the past. if we go back, we can get them," Natasha nods slowly, her expression changing to a more determined one. "we can snap our own fingers. we can bring everybody back."

"or screw it up worse than he already has. right?" Tony chuckles and denies it once more. "no. i'm not doing this."

"Tony." Natasha murmurs. "we have to take a stand."

"we know you got a lot on the line. you got a wife, a daughter. but i lost someone very important to me. all of us did. it's not only you we are talking about here," Steve explains and Natasha flinches at the mention. "there's somebody who i absolutely know will help you, help us,"

the redhead looks down, a bittersweet smile crossing her lips. "they're not really talking to me right now. but if you ask them, Tony. isn't that a shot worth taking?"

"oh. you all mean Natasha's partn—" Scott mumbles, but is interrupted by Steve smacking his shoulder.

Tony seems to think for a while, but eventually, his walls break, as he remembers you. all the times you helped with his projects, how nothing ever failed when you teamed up. yup. to your house he went.

— ₊⊹ ★

"so basically, in Saint Francisco, ant-man suddenly left the quantum realm and Steve found him laying in a bunch of boxes in an abandoned parking lot."

you listened to Tony's explanation wide-eyed, not believing a single word. you smirked somehow. it took a lot to even let him in, you only did it because he had his daughter anyway. and now he was asking for you to suddenly go back to where you left.

"and now, you all want to pair up again and build a time machine and time travel." you ask, but it sounds more like an affirmation.

"you see, they took a while to convince me too." he says, looking into your eyes. Tony wasn't the selfish man he usually was. he was genuinely concerned, and seemed to consider the request.

"because you don't wanna lose her,"

you say quietly, as Morgan snuggles up against you. you were the one who always took care of her when Pepper and him couldn't. she was like a niece for you. a rush of wind causes the girl to shiver and mumble something, but she quickly goes back to sleep. you carefully lean your head down against the girl's.

"... Pepper and i already consulted FRIDAY." Tony gulps, nodding. "it might work. can you believe that? we are actually able to time-travel."

"usually you'd say that's horseshit," you snicker, coaxing a small laugh out of Tony.

"i did say that." he nods, wrapping his arm around you both, allowing your weight to rest on him.

it was good to know you still had a friend, something to take care of. and also, someone needed this to work as much as you did. and you didn't want that person to think you had forgotten about her.

"..fine." you mumble, tucking a strand of hair behind Morgan's ear. "when and how are we doing that?"

— ₊⊹ ★

seemingly, everyone was back. well, the glimpse of who the team was.

Thor had gained a few pounds and hadn't gotten his beard done for ages. Clint, looked like a teenager who liked being emo. Tokyo did something to him. Bruce, had somehow joined himself and the Hulk, and now he was green all the time. a lot changed ever since you saw everybody.

"okay, here we go. time-travel test number one," you say, holding the clipboard where you noted the events. "Scott, fire up the... uh, the van thing."

he opens the back of the van which was being used as the time-travel portal and fires up the engine. Steve sets the emergency generators, as Scott puts the helmet on.

"i'm sending you back a week, let you walk around for an hour, then bring you back in 10 seconds." you explain, taking a step back.

"we got this," Natasha says apprehensively, picking on her nails.

you look at her with your peripheral vision, taking a long, sharp breath, trying to focus on the main task there. bring everybody back, before thinking of your previous relationship.

Scott is send back a week, then. the propellant pulls him inside the portal and in a count of three, you press all the buttons again, and boom. ant-man, perfectly fine.

"time travel!" Bruce-Hulk exclaims. "i knew it would work! you're the best,"

"mhm," you hum, bittersweetly smiling and sighing in relief. "now, it's simple, we just gotta find a way to know where the stones are, travel, come back, and everything is solved."

"good job," Tony throws you a smile. you return it.

"this is how we're doing it," Clint steps in, and everyone looks at him. "we're taking Nebula, Rhodey, Rocket and all the Guardians of the Galaxy. we're gonna need as much as back-up possible. we know the how, now, it's the where, and the when."

"to the meeting room we go," you comment, placing the clipboard down and walking back inside.

— ₊⊹ ★

"almost everyone in this room had an encounter with at least one of the six infinity stones," Steve says, pointing at the images of the stones showing on FRIDAY's pannel.

"i haven't," you whisper, covering your mouth to prevent a chuckle from escaping. "i have no idea what the hell you're all talking about."

"regardless," Bruce sighs. "we only got enough pym-particles for one round-trip each."

"and the stones had been in a lot of different places throughout our history." Natasha finishes, following the path of thought.

the Avengers analyze each stone and recall in which time of their lives they had found each stone, so that they could pick their targets correctly and find them. until Nebula begins talking about the last one. the soul stone. "Thanos found the soul stone in Vormir."

"what's Vormir?" Natasha asks, grabbing her notepad and a pen. the explanation, though, was not something you were expecting.

"a dominion of death." Nebula whispers. "at the very center of celestial existence. it's where.. my sister was murdered. by him."

that word. death. the team sees how it affected both Natasha and you. she shifted uncomfortably on the couch and finished scrabbling on the paper, dropping it on the coffee table in front of her.

"we got a plan." Steve speaks, breaking the awkward silence. "six stones, three teams, one shot."

"am I going?" you ask quietly, looking at everyone who shook their heads at you.

"no, of course not." Natasha was the first to reply. "you're strong, mentally. but you're not a superhero. you're staying here to pull us out as soon as we're back. copy?"

that didn't feel right. and Natasha felt your uneasiness. it broke her so much to know you were still concerned for her. you both weren't in the right places for her to comfort you, so she stayed right where she was.

— ₊⊹ ★

Natasha 'flew' to so called Vormir with one and only objective. making things right. it wasn't true to say she wasn't a little shaken by Nebula's words before. but if it meant dying, to get her family back, get her sister back, and her lover back, she wouldn't hesitate.

it was damn creepy. the sky was a mixture of purples and blues and blacks, mountains covered in snow and long, long cliffs.

"you okay?" Clint places his hand on Nat's back as he sees her expression. she's scared.

"i will be," she whispers, giving him a not-so-convincing smile. "as soon as we accomplish our mission."

the truth was that she was scared of not seeing you again. not seeing your smile for a last time, hearing your voice once more. she had lost everything already, but not you. you stayed. the universe had decided to keep you there with her, that had to mean something. and she was only realizing how much of an idiot she had been right now. the potential last moments she had you by her side, she discarded like they were nothing.

"no time to think back, Natasha." Clint breaks her out of her trance and nudges her shoulder. she gulps nervously and follows him.

the two continue to walk up the mountain, until a strange voice calls out for them. Clint unsheathes his sword and Natasha pulls out her gun.

"Natasha, daughter of Ivan. Clint, son of Edith."

"consider me a guide," the voice continues, "to you, and to all who seek the soul stone."

"good." Natasha comments dryly, aiming at the figure in the black robe. "you tell us where it is, and we'll be on our way."

the figure approaches them, revealing the creature under the black fabric. Red Skull. "what you seek, lies ahead of you."

a glow comes from the end of the cliff, and they both know what it means immediately. they lower their weapons and secure them again.

"in order to get what you want, you need to lose what you love the most. a soul for a soul."

Natasha's eyes lock on the glow coming from down below. those were like two pieces of a puzzle. the sparkle her eyes had lost. it was what she needed to do. she nad nothing to live for. she had already disappointed you, and besides, it would bring your family back — the perfect call. you would be happy again. away from her. freed from her.

"promise me something?" she whispers, taking baby steps towards the edge, and Clint follows. "tell my love i'm sorry."

"Natasha, stop.'' he places his hand on her shoulder and turns her to look at him. he knew that look. determination, pure determination.

"five years. five years and all i did was screw up." she points at herself, voice shaking with raw emotion. "five years and i didn't do a single thing right. i never did, actually, but now its worse."

"Natasha—,"

"promise me." she repeats, desperately grabbing on Clint's suit, squeezing him. "promise me you'll tell them i'm sorry, that i loved them more than anything in the world. that they were the best thing that ever happened to me."

"no, you'll tell them yourself,"

"promise me!" she yells, feeling tears build on her eyes.

Clint stumbles backwards in awe, dumbfounded. what the hell was he going to do? lose Natasha like that? it didn't seem like she was going to back off from this, and if he didn't promise, he'd make her even more disappointed. and it took only a single nod from Clint for Natasha to use her widow's bite and punch him down against the floor, and run towards the end. "i'm sorry. i love you,"

"what the hell?" he mutters and squirms out of the webs, pulling out his hook — he hooks Natasha, and the other end, he hooks on the rock surface. they both hang out of the cliff. "you're a pain in the ass, y'know that?"

Natasha held onto Clint's wrist tightly, the thread of her lifeline almost breaking. she silently told Yelena a goodbye, letting the faint images of you and her together play on her brain. with that, she was in peace.

"no." he feels himself start to panic, as he restlessly tries to pull them both upwards again. failing. "please, Natasha."

"thank you for saving me. for not killing me on that rooftop on Budapest." she grabs her hand knife. "you gave me the chance to have the only thing i ever wanted."

a love. someone to call hers.

"it's okay." the redhead finishes, and takes a deep, final breath. "goodbye, Clint." she cuts the rope off.

the last thing she feels is the wind on her face, and then, an everlasting silence. oops, she doesn't feel anymore. the pain was over. it never existed. from now on, her soul would rest along the memories she had built with you. even if the memories of her suffering were stronger.

the soul stone was now in Clint's hands.

— ₊⊹ ★

"tell me you're lying." you shake your head, taking long, slow breaths.

"i'm so sorry—"

"tell me, you're fucking lying!"

your scream shatters Clint's heart more than he could handle. he looks down, shaking his head in denial.

"you're telling me, she sacrificed herself for the sake of a world who didn't value her," you sharply grab his arm and push him back against the wall. "in the past, in a complete foreign place, and i didn't even had the chance to see her again!?"

it was too much. you sob, covering your mouth and falling to the floor. Clint crouches down with you, his feelings matching yours exactly. you cry, wrapping your arms around yourself and trying to ignore the coldness from the tile floor — or just how cold your body actually felt.

"i'm sorry, Natasha," you whisper to the air, curling yourself into a ball. "i'm so sorry, my love. i'm so, so sorry. wherever you are, i hope you can hear me. i'm so goddamn sorry."

yeah, surely it wasn't going to be easy to live with the glimpse of her everywhere. you weren't even going to live with it. you'd do everything, everything to avenge her, something her own superhero friends didn't do — and go to see her once more.

the blip had destroyed everything. it took everything from you. thinking again, no, it wasn't cool to live with a bunch of superheroes.

( @scarjosii22, finalmente terminei a fanfic 😭 me matei pra escrever tudo isso, tô esperando meu pagamento 😋)

[gojogoblin]

his deity | 18+

featuring: ryomen sukuna x reader

wc: 0.7k

cw: female reader, somnophilia (reader is asleep), worship, unprotected sex, creampie, implied murder of side character

Sukuna visits you in your dreams. Every night, without fail, you dream of piercing eyes, of teeth so sharp they could kill. Striking facial tattoos, wild tongue, sharp jaw. Every night, it's the same dream.

Every night, he takes what is his.

He doesn't come through the door, but the window beside your bed. He's large, broad shouldered, and yet the bed never dips as he crouches over you, runs a finger down the side of your face to introduce your body to his touch for the evening. He knows you get warm when you sleep, knows there won't be much he has to work around. His favorite nights are the ones where you're clad in the short, silky little nightgown with the thin straps and touch of lace at the neckline. A man you'd been seeing months ago had gifted it to you for the holidays, but it wasn't long after that night that he'd simply disappeared. No matter, you don't think of him anymore. These nights are his favorite because he can simply run his hands up your legs and push the material up to your hips slowly. You never stir.

First, he lowers himself down to lie between plush thighs, arms hooked around them almost tenderly. He doesn't really need to do that, since you don't move around enough to warrant it, but he does it anyway. You always shower before bed, so your skin is clean and sweet, untainted by the horrors of the outside world. No, no. Here, he can protect you, swath you in a blanket of his attention, his affection, his devotion to his deity without wings. He worships at your altar, tastes you, indulges in you until your thighs are trembling and you can't help the whimpers that escape parted lips nor the way your chest stutters with breathless desire for a high you couldn't ever hope to reach awake.

It isn't until you're mere inches from this high that he pulls away. Cruel, perhaps, but only in your best interest. You sleep better after he's been inside you. He knows this, he's studied this.

And so it's with nothing but your well being in mind that he reaches down and folds you into his arms, holds you to his chest as he slowly, oh so slowly, sinks into you. The stretch makes him want to weep with gratitude, darkened faith shaken by something he'd never believed he'd find in this realm in any century. He holds you to him as you cry out softly, muffled against the heated skin of his shoulder. His hand strokes through your hair to calm you, drag you back down into a restful sleep. Your body twitches with each inch until his hips are pressed flush to yours and it's hard to breathe. He fixes this with two fingers pressed to the middle of your back. He's too large for you, too dangerous. It is the one thing he regrets in his lifetime, so he heals as soon as the damage is done, before you can even register the pain. He makes it so, because you, dear you, deserve no tears but those of pleasure.

He destroys you and builds you again, kills you and brings you back with each and every thrust of his hips until your legs begin to shake again and sweat beads at your forehead. You mumble incoherently, but he doesn't need to hear you to understand what you need. It's only fair, so the pad of his thumb finds itself swiping along where you need it the most, gentle enough to keep you asleep but maddening enough to draw broken moans from your lips. You unravel just as he does, clenched around him, just as it is meant to be.

He cleans you up carefully, ritualistically, even though he doesn't have to. A snap of his fingers would've done, but to do it himself is to have more time with you, allow your body to memorize even more of his touches. And though he shouldn't, he leaves the slightest bit of soreness in your hips. Though he shouldn't, he leaves a tiny scratch at your wrist.

Perhaps some day you will understand that the king of curses means you no harm, but for now he remains nothing more than a dream that fades in the light of the morning sun of each morning, only to return with the breath of the moon.

[starlightswordfight]

"jeremy if this is another hc post I'm going to kill you" bad news

castaway nonsense PART TWO

– schnauz is deathly afraid of water. it unsettles him deeply, largely because of past experience. do you SEE his treasure catalogue entry for the blue paint?? who "swims out" for the "last time" in a swimming pool???? someone fucking DIED

– on a slightly similar note, he laughs when he's nervous!

– he is Perpetually Nervous

– I think molly would REALLY like the evil skeleton wizard memes that have taken over my brain for the past several years. "not me being evil shadow skull" and no one knows what the fuck she's talking about

– molly writes fanfiction

– will let people borrow her camera if you ask nicely

– speaking of molly. her and patch and dash should be best friends forever. same home planet and they all do stupid shit. jin is also involved and they're the voice of reason

– dash has a lot of fidget toys. on him at all times

– wears those jackets where it's just an anime character wrapped around them all the way all bizarre like. he doesn't think it's a good design by any means it's just really funny

– frisé's favorite instrument is the didgeridoo

– also she's intersex. I can do whatever I want

– hitting frisé with the singing/humming/tapping on stuff as stims beam

– construction work is super fucking loud so I think corgwin just would not be bothered by sudden/incredible noise anymore. it just reads as background stuff to him! that or he like genuinely isn't picking up on some of it at all, it doesn't register. frequent tinnitus haver. he might be going deaf

– corgwin is tumblr famous. the pikmin universe tumblr equivalent anyway. inspired by the headcanon generator that told us in the pikmin server I'm in that charlie lit a school on fire and got away with it and that the rescue corps killed princess diana

– think about it. he'd share fun building facts. niche internet micro celebrity and everybody loves him

– lapi is also tumblr famous

– he likes frolicking around outside For Enrichment but he also does it in the rain and sometimes comes home sick

– guilty of making sketchbooks into renderbooks and taking several years to complete them. "but it has to be perfect" That Is The Devil Talking

– horatio is not immune to the fog

– he has a VERY specific skillset. like. like stupid specific. the guy is the most proficient xylophonist you've ever met but he can't cook. knows how aeronautics works but his phone call game is BAD. give him an old movie from decades back and he can tell you what it is and who acted in it and exactly where he was when he first saw it, easily. if you ask him for directions anywhere he'll crumble and die

– he wrote his ID badge like that. it was fully and completely on purpose. horatio thinks it's funny as hell

– françois really likes bugs! sees them all the time in his work even if his studies are flora centric. while on pnf-404 he probably talks about it a LOT with dalmo. botany/environmental science major who minored in entomology

– I just do not think he'd be afraid of them and that is beautiful. he allows nothing to dissuade him. he has pet spiders it is wonderful

– OKAY YOU KNOW THOSE THINGS YOU CAN GET AT THE KENNEDY SPACE CENTER AND IN OTHER PLACES WHERE IT'S LIKE ROCK SAMPLES FROM FOREIGN SPACE BODIES?? AM I INSANE??? in the little capsules and shit ????? yeah kit has those

– astrophysics lover. adores space science. worked at a planetarium before meeting osa. I don't remember if this contradicts the established lore and I am too tired to go back and check so if im wrong you can pelt me with stones and tomato

– osa lets him ramble on about it but in all honesty he does not know what the fuck kit is talking about half the time ever. ever

– vice versa! osa also has a huge nerd thing and it's world history. which makes sense for an archaeologist. I don't mean modern history either I mean ANCIENT

– fawks would unironically endorse the idea of a cybertruck but it never comes to fruition because everyone says it's stupid and he feels insulted and he gives up and sulks about it

– but he'd specialize. I know he would. he gets specific with it. good for him! my money is on prehistoric archaeology, stuff back before written text, and language, and any history that could be recorded with the power of words. which is why travelling to pnf-404 was so fucking important to him, he's been trying to construct something that would fill in the gaps of that lost starfolk history and this WAS the exact sort of thing that he was looking for

– technically they're doing geoarchaeology together. yes that's a subfield

– he is a tech bro and everybody thinks this is stupid and dumb also

– chewy

[sunsetsmakemesad]

Something I love about Demon Slayer fights is that they all have some sort of theme to them. The major ones especially. Like- they're not there just to flaunt the characters strength, they have such depth and symbolism to them.

It's actually one of the things I see people complimenting the most in kny- the symbolism. And, same, its honestly my fav part of the show, along with the characters.

Now let's look at the major fights in infinity castle:

-Douma vs Shinobu, Kanao, Inosuke

-Kokushibou vs Muichirou, Genya, Sanemi, Gyomei

-Akaza vs Tanjiro, Giyuu

-Muzan vs #everyone

When we look at these fights, we see that in every one of them there's some sort of connection between all the participants. Something that ties them together.

°•☆Douma vs Victory trio(I heard someone call them that and I really like it)☆•°

First we have Shinobu encountering Douma, once she is killed, Kanao enters the scene, and shortly after her, Inosuke.

There's something that they all have in common. What? Emotions.

All of these characters can be closely tied to the concept of emotion. Shinobu has suppressed all her inner rage for 4 years, and finally let's it out during the fight. She's furious. She's seething with rage. Kanao has been abused for her whole childhood before butterfly sisters came into the picture. She'd get hit if she cried, it was so bad that her brain registered crying as something that could get you killed, like how we know not to put our hands on a stove because it will get us burned. She CAN cry, but subconsciously suppresses it, in fear of punishment she logically knows won't happen anymore. She also closed of her heart entirely. She was never raised with love and care, thus not knowing how to express properly, finding it easier to just smile and not care. Inosuke was raised by boars in the mountains. Do you think someone like that knows how to perceive human emotion properly? He also gets surprised at small human gestures which don't really make sense to him. All of these characters can't properly express their emotions, but they ARE capable of it. They are human at heart. Emotion is a part of their soul. Then there's Douma, someone who hasn't been able to feel anything since he was a baby. That's the tragedy of his character. And only when faced with a true, emotionless person are the victory trio able to sort themselves out, and reflect on their own souls.

▪¤□¤▪Kokushibo vs Muichirou, Genya, Sanemi, Gyomei▪¤□¤▪

With these characters, what is it that's connecting them and tying them together? Family. All of these characters have at least one family member who they have a screwed relationship with. Gyomei and the kids, Muichirou and his twin, Sanemi and Genya.

But there's a difference here. All the slayers have something in common, they Love their family. Its not to be questioned. They want to protect them and wish the best for them even if their relationship is screwed. Kokushibo isn't like that. He doesn't love Yorichi. He doesn't wish the best for him. He definetly DID love him at some point, but that is lost to time. In their childhood interactions, we see Kokushibo pity him. Pity, not love, those two are pretty different. And then he's later consumed by a burning jealousy, which spirals into hatred.

Eventually, his own jealousy is the cause of his demise. And while many of the other participants of that fight die as well, we are shown people mourning them. Kokushibo dies alone, with no one but the brother he died resenting and wishing the worst upon to pity him in the afterlife.

》◇•°Akaza vs Tanjiro, Giyuu°•◇《

The theme in this fight? Weakness and strength.

Thorought the fight, we are shown the characters conserving on these themes. What does it mean to be weak? When are you considered strong?

Akaza hates the weak, simple as that. This could both be associated with the fact that he was too weak to save Koyuki and his teacher, or the fact that the neighbouring dojo members were weak, causing him to think of all weak people as cowards.

But then Tanjiro brings up a good point, that everyone was weak at some point. Akaza was a baby. Tanjiro was a baby. They were both equally weak. They needed someone to love and care for them. Someone strong. So that they could grow strong aswell and care for the weak. This creates a cycle. Akaza hating weakness is irrational because those he hates so fiercely could grow to become his strongest opponent. Then we have mental strength. Akaza is stronger than Giyuu and Tanjiro, yet he is weaker than them.

×○•♧Muzan vs #everyone♧•○×

This fight was honestly about the concept of humanity itself. What makes us human? Does immortality truly exist? Muzan is faced with everyone he has ever hurt. Hundreds of people. All holding nothing but resentment for him.

"You have stepped on a tigers tail multiple times, and that tiger has now awakened. And they are very angry"

-Kagaya Ubuyashiki to Muzan.

In this same conversation, Kagaya tells Muzan that immortality exists, but it is impossible for a human to become immortal. The only immortal thing are humans wishes and ideals, as they are passed down generation to generation. Muzan has lived for a thousand years. The goal to destroy Muzan has also lived for a thousand years. An immortality that killed Muzan.

Because even if human lives are fleeting, their spirits are everlasting. Because they make connections, because they hope. Because they leave traces of themselves behind.

Muzan is a being that should not be allowed to exist, stated by Tanjiro. Because Muzan is trying to go against nature. He is fighting a battle that he can't win. He hurts everyone around him for he is a coward too scared to face the undeniable truth.

"Ubuyashiki, you were right. All creatures die without exception. Only memories are eternal. You were right. I can't even remember a single person I murdered. When the body dies, everything is over. But the mind remains and it never perishes. Even I was defeated. I witnessed this fact, it moved me and I trembled."

[nikethestatue]

Honestly no hate to e/riels but SJM said "it's obvious" in a book where we are being hinted at Gwyn's powers, Gwyn playing a major role and showcasing the extent of her powers when she helped Nesta find the harp (hello Nesta in acowar did the same), in a book where Gwyn and Azriel's reaction to each other are highlighted frequently and are positive and fun and they have banter and she makes his shadows dance. Then we have all the obvious build up for Azriel in acosf and hofas and he gets two bonus chapters. Gwyn's whole backstory and parentage is a mystery she still needs growth in terms of getting out of the library, reclaiming her body & sexuality and taking stand for herself. Like I think it really is obvious who the next book is for (hint it's our priestess and shadowsinger)

SJM did mention researching for elain's book but as we have seen a character gets buildup before they have their book (hello Nesta) but who did we have built up for? elain's power? Elain playing any role at all? Nope nada zilch, so really imo Elain's book will be finales.

So Anon, I am gonna drop a truth that you aren't going to like, because you've been so conditioned to think a certain way now. However, the truth is pretty simple--whose ton of casual readers don't even remember who Gwyn is.

She doesn't register. She DOESN'T MATTER. That's what it boils down to. YOU guys have concocted this version of Gwyn who carries a tremendous amount of weight. In reality, she doesn't. There is NOTHING about Gwyn that's more important than Emerie for example. But none of you are clamoring to read an Emerie book. Emerie, who btw, was in 2 books vs Gwyn's one.

Nothing that Gwyn's done extends to a larger story. The Valkyries--that's led by NESTA. Nesta ARCHERON. Like Elain ARCHERON. Both of whom were contracted by BB to be FMCs of SJM's novels. SJM did not sell anything to BB about Gwyn in 2015.

And Azriel is not getting an "Azriel Book' because freakin Rhysand did not get a book. He didn't even get a POV in the trilogy. So as much as we all find Azriel appealing, Azriel is getting a book with Elain Archeron, who literally has 12 different storylines attached to her. Whereas Gwyn has .....zero.

No person who picked up all of ACOTAR, read it back to back over 15 days, but hasn't been trawling through commissioned Gwynriel arts on IG, or listening to 'theories' from Gwynriels on TikTOk, came out of ACOSF saying 'yes, it's OBVIOUS that Gwyn's book is next!'

WHAT?

Listen, I find the whole Gwynriel thing rather amusing. I don't take it seriously and never have. It's just there like a blister. Irritating but you can still function. But you guys really bought into this and it's kind of concerning. You are Gwynriels unironically. Not like Draimonie, for example. Not like, listen we love the ship, but we know it wont sail. But we love it. (Totally cool, btw). But you seriously think that SJM will write a Gwyn book?

I don't know. After 4 years, I don't know what to say anymore.

Honestly, a Tamlin x Briar novella has more chances of happening than a Gwyn book.

[the-possum-writes]

Hey, Poss! I recently found your tumblr and I love reading your stories! I have started rewatching AT and I definitely can relate to Fern and Finn a lot. They are both comfort characters for me, and I have come up with a request. Is it possible you could do some type of x reader story with either one (or both!) of them with a reader who is very anxious/insecure and compares themselves to others alot and is uncomfortable in crowded places? Thank you for reading my request! 😊

❥ Crowd Anxiety

❥Character: Finn Mertens, Fern Mertens

❥Tags: Fluff, SFW, comfort, anxious!reader, Gen neutral

❥Synopsis: During a chase at the grocery kingdom you run through a crowd only for your anxiety to  kick in, fortunately there's two knights who help you through it.

❥A/n: Gonna describe the scenario in a paragraph and then split it into headcannons for each character.

❥Taglist: @foxpearlwilder @watchingfromthefloorboards

You were grocery shopping with Finn and Fern when you heard a smash two or three stalls away. "Stop! Thief!" yells one of the stall vendors. The three of you turn around to see a thief fleeing through the farmers market with a cash register tucked under their arm. Fern was the first to take action, pursuing the thief at full speed even if it meant dropping the watermelon he was holding for you. Finn apologized to you and the vendor before hurrying away.

This is not the first time a call to action has disrupted your daily routine. You ought to pay the vendor before continuing the chase, although in an upward direction. Finn and Fern lose track of the thief, but you can see him like a fox in a sheep's pen thanks to your advantage of being high above. You then perform some parkour moves to get him past food stands and clothes lines before rolling to the ground. You scream to whichever brother can hear you, "He's going to the meats section." You're beaming ear to ear at this point since you know you can catch the criminal as soon as he gets within reach and tackle him to the ground. The burglar recognizes you and cranks up the pace.

Although it makes you sweat more than parkour ever did, you don't let your pace slow down when you notice a larger crowd just around the corner. It's unavoidable to run into people, feeling them closing in on you as they go by you while you battle to do the same, till they don't even resemble people anymore with their faces blur away, and you try to keep pace of the thief as he gets further away from you. "No! No!" Your mind raced with the ideas, "I can't let him escape, I got a lot of eyes on me right now, and the shopkeeper is going to think I'm a dumb goop. It's sickening to the point where a crack in the concrete floor sends you sliding down and scraping your knees, and the people who were previously minding their own thing suddenly stare at you as you sit on the floor. You assume that others are silently judging you. That's when you start crying.

Finn:

❥When Finn was the first to come up with you, he instantly put the thief out of his mind and helped you. ❥Are you okay, smokes? I have a few bandages in my backpack, so don't worry. His attention turned to your knee scrapes. Unbeknownst to Finn, it made you feel embarrassed as nosy individuals prodded their heads to stare at you like a zoo animal. Finn, let's leave right away. Even though he is kind, he still didn't get the point when he said, "But, I wanna clean your knees first." ❥"... I feel uncomfortable, there's people watching." you murmur.

❥He finally realized, "Oh." Or maybe he didn't; all he knew was that you wanted to leave, so he picked you up in bridal style and raced away from the main street while you buried your head against his chest regardless of whether you soaked his shirt.

❥As Finn lowers you onto a barrel and begins to clean the area before applying a bandage, he realizes that you are still gazing shamefully away."Hey, it's no biggie. I fall down in public all the time." "... But atleast you manage to catch the bad guys." you mumbles "Oh, that's what's bothering you?" Finn simply listens without adding any more commentary. "You two are fantastic at this being a hero stuff, I know. I tagged along with you guys hoping to one day be like you, but all I've done is screw up." you lament. "Hey, hey (Y/n) you're not a screw up." "Easy for you to say." you mumble, looking away.

❥You remind Finn a little bit of himself. "You wanna know what happened when I fought my first monster?" You sigh, having heard this tale before. "You broke your sword and beat it with your bare hands." you repeat. "Hey, nice memory." he snaps a finger at you. "But there's something I don't tell anyone after my sword broke...I boomed boomed myself." You tried not to laugh out of respect. Keyword being tried.

❥"Doing hero stuff blows sometimes, but after you screw up once it's less likely to screw up again since you know what you're getting into. You're great at what you do!" Finn explains. "..." you pause to consider the suggestion, silently appreciating his presence. "Thanks, I'll try to keep that in mind the next time,"

❥You stopped crying a while ago, suddenly realizing something. "Is that why you carry an extra pair of pants in your backpack?" you point out, Finn just blushes and looks away fondly. "Yeaaah."

❥"There you are! I was about to leave without you guys." Fern has the stolen register in one hand while in the other he has the thief tied up and gagged. "Wow, great job Fern! and you avoided breaking bones this time." Fern enjoys the compliment but he looks to you. "Wouldn't have done it without (y/n), they got real hawk eyes."

Fern:

❥Fern was the first to catch up with you, he indecisively looked back between the thief and you a few times before deciding to stay with you.

❥"Come'on, we can still catch him together." he extends your hand but you refuse it. "No, just go ahead without me. I'm a klutz..." This inevitably bugged Fern, "What are ya saying? I'm not leaving you here playing on the dirt." he raises his voice.

❥It had nosy people poking their heads to look at you like a zoo animal unbeknownst to Fern, it had you blushing in embarrassment. "... Fern just leave me alone...there's people watching."

❥Fern turned to the crowd that formed around the two of you." What are you all looking at!? Take a picture, it'll last longer." He snarled back, flashing his razor-sharp teeth and brilliant eyes at them in an attempt to scare them away. He hoists you up piggyback style and leads you down a quiet alley, away from the busy street.

❥Fern places you on a barrel and uses a bottle to pour water on your knees to clean them, but he realizes that you are still shamefully turning your head away. "Hey, don't worry about it I get scratched up by small things all the time too." "... But atleast you manage to catch the bad guys." you mumbles "That's what's eating you up huh?" Fern simply listens without adding any more commentary. "You two are fantastic at this being a hero stuff, I know. I tagged along with you guys hoping to one day be like you, but all I've done is screw up." you lament. Fern stays quiet for a few seconds. "(Y/n) you're not a screw up. Trust me I know what one is like and you're not one of them." "Pfft yeah right, like who?" you don't believe him, looking away.

❥"Like me." This made you face him, remembering everything he's been through and realizing he's probably the only one who could understand how you feel.

❥Fern takes a deep breath, trying to keep his cool. "You just lost track of a thief, I lost track of a kid who wasn't even actively running away from me. But hey there's no comparing, it's like comparing apples to oranges." he sits down on the barrel next to yours. "What I'm trying to say is that, you'll never go anywhere or be happy if you keep comparing yourself to other people. The only person you should be comparing yourself with is your past self, you're great at what you do and with time you'll be unstoppable." you pause to consider the advice, silently appreciating his presence. "Thanks, I'll try to keep that in mind the next time." "Good, or else I'll write it on your forehead with permanent marker." he half joked, but you know he's fully capable of doing it.

❥You stopped crying a while ago, suddenly realizing something. "Hey, you've been really good with advice lately." "Yeah, been seeing a therapist." he scratches the back of his neck. "And here I thought you were stealing phrases from fortune cookies again." you chuckle. "Sometimes, but not all the time!"

❥ "There you are! I was about to leave without you guys." Finn has the stolen register in one hand while in the other he has the thief tied up by the hands. "Looks like you had everything under control, didn't need our help huh (y/n)?" Finn enjoys the compliment but he looks to you. "Not really, I mean, I wouldn't have done it without (y/n), they're a beast at parkour."

[writingoncloudydays]

Simple Life Together

a.n: Hey, so im not dead just had a lot of shit happen in the last months, so enjoy a short movie night With Dean and Cas

warnings: non, just super fluffy

0.94k Words

Dean sat on the worn leather couch in the bunker, feet propped up on the coffee table, eyes glued to the flickering screen as an old Western movie played. The grainy film transported him to dusty saloons, clashing revolvers, and lone sheriffs riding into sunsets. He loved these moments—the simplicity and ruggedness of the characters. A quiet contentment settled over him as he sipped his beer, lost in the film's nostalgia.

Beside him, Castiel sat, not nearly as entranced by the movie as he was by Dean himself. The angel had seen countless worlds and even universes, but nothing captivated him quite like watching Dean. His sharp features softened in the glow of the screen, and his green eyes were wide with boyish enthusiasm that Castiel rarely saw. In moments like these, Dean let his guard down, even just a little, and Castiel found it impossibly endearing.

Dean let out a chuckle at some dry quip from the movie, and Castiel’s gaze flickered from his lips to his eyes, admiring the ease in his expression. He found himself leaning slightly closer, drawn to the warmth that radiated from Dean, the subtle magnetism that always pulled him in.

"You know," Dean said, still not looking away from the screen, "These old Westerns… they don't make 'em like this anymore. Just a man, his horse, and the wild frontier. Simple life, y'know?"

Castiel tilted his head, his voice soft. "You like the idea of simplicity, don't you?"

Dean finally glanced over, catching the intense focus in Castiel's eyes. He chuckled again, though this one was quieter, more self-conscious. "Yeah, well… life's anything but simple, Cas."

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the movie forgotten. Castiel's gaze held something more profound, making Dean's chest tighten just a bit.

"You ever think," Dean asked, his voice lower, more serious now, "About what it'd be like? A life like that?"

Castiel's eyes never left his. "I think," he said slowly, "I'd want to experience it with you."

Dean’s breath hitched. It wasn’t the first time Cas had said something that hit him square in the heart, but the weight of it—the sincerity, the quiet devotion—made Dean’s usual bravado falter.

He swallowed hard, turning back to the TV, but his heart was still racing. The movie played on, but it might have been a distant hum. All Dean could think about now was the presence next to him—the way Castiel watched him like he was the most important thing in the room.

And maybe, just maybe, Dean was starting to feel the same way.

Dean’s mind spun with Castiel’s words, the quiet hum of the movie barely registering. He had always been good at deflecting, brushing things off with a joke or a smirk, but this time, the weight of Castiel’s gaze made it impossible to ignore.

He could feel the warmth radiating off Cas and hear the steady rhythm of his breathing so close. Dean turned his head slowly, eyes locking onto Castiel's once more. There was a vulnerability there that took him by surprise—an openness that Cas reserved only for him. Dean felt something shift inside him at that moment, something he had kept buried for too long.

“Cas…” he began, his voice soft, almost hesitant. He didn’t know how to say what he was feeling, didn’t know how to put into words the rush of emotions that flooded him all at once. But maybe he didn’t need to.

Castiel moved just a fraction closer, always attuned to Dean in ways he couldn’t explain. The space between them felt charged, like the world had narrowed to just the two. Dean’s heart pounded in his chest, and without thinking, he leaned in, closing the gap.

It was a soft kiss, tentative at first as if testing the waters. Dean’s lips brushed against Castiel’s, and for a moment, everything else fell away—the weight of their past, the chaos of their lives, the uncertainty of the future. None of it mattered. All that existed was the warmth of Castiel’s mouth on his, the way his hand came up to gently cup the back of Dean’s neck, pulling him in just a little closer.

Dean sighed into the kiss, his shoulders relaxing as something inside him finally clicked into place. He deepened the kiss, letting himself sink into it fully, savouring how Cas responded, soft and sure. It was sweet, tender, and filled with all the unspoken words they had never quite been able to say.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together, the faint glow of the TV casting soft shadows around them. Dean’s eyes fluttered open, and he found Castiel looking at him with a mixture of awe and affection that made his chest tighten again.

“Guess I’ve been a little slow on the uptake,” Dean murmured with a slight, self-deprecating grin.

Castiel’s lips curved into the slightest smile, his thumb brushing gently against Dean’s neck. “I’ve waited for you, Dean. I’ll always wait.”

Dean closed his eyes again, a quiet laugh escaping him, but it was full of warmth, full of something he wasn’t afraid to feel anymore. He leaned in, pressing one last soft kiss to Castiel’s lips before resting his head against the couch, pulling Cas closer to his side.

The movie continued to play in the background, but now, Dean was no longer lost in the film. He was lost in the moment, in the quiet contentment of just being here—with Castiel, finally letting himself feel everything he’d been too scared to admit for so long.

For the first time in a long time, life felt a little simpler, a little more like home.

[nyaawn]

Adding to my previous 'Graphical Update and Derplander's face' post now that the benchmark has been updated, and overall it's an improvement. Rejoice user of hyur face#5, your WoL won't suddenly turn into old man anymore!

It's rather hard to take pic with similar light for ver1.1 because they had revamped their lighting placement big time, especially the indoor one. But hoo-boy ain't it look good. It register multiple light sources now? Making things like his collar and ears cast subtler shadows from different angle. They fix the fading facial hair and eyebrow too. Nice.

While face#5 regain its youthful visage, players who DO want their WoL to age can look to face#7, which retain its middle-aged-man look from previous benchmark, that stubble come complete with nasolabial folds, wrinkles, lines and all intact. Heck, you can argue that it look even more rugged now.

(note: When the first DT benchmark released I was on break from playing XIV and didn't have access to in-game Character Creator, so I used EW benchmark for comparison pics on my previous post and the updated ones above. They were captured on PC and labeled from patch 6.0. Since then I had subbed again, so part of pics below was taken from current-build CC, captured on PS5 and labeled from patch 6.5. I thought it wouldn't differ much, but 6.0's shadow is much darker compared to current (6.5) build. Huh. Is it because of different hardware? Different setting? Benchmark fault? Idk)

Yep. Same face structure, different direction. One brings youth, one brings the age. Two-toned echoes tumbling through update.... Well, anyway, they did a good job distinguishing face#7 from #5 with this graphic update. And it's nice to have more options. People who like this face type (and it feels almost every male hyur player use this one) but want 20s or youthful 30-something WoL can go with face#5. Those who don't mind 40s or 30-something-who-spend-too-much-of-his-life-standing-one-millimeter-from-blazing-inferno-or-toxic-fumes-AoE-too-keep-his-uptime-resulting-in-rough-skin WoL can go with face#7. That's me and I'm happy with this update. I just wish we can turn that stubble on and off without need of fanta($$), like every other facial hair options... But I guess that ship has sailed.

Looking at updated benchmark cutscene itself, there's improved lighting but all in all the change is minimal imo. And I'm sad to say that villain-esque eyeliner I mentioned in previous post is still there. Not as thick as previous, but still appear anytime I use hairstyle with bangs that drop shade on his eyes. Sigh maybe I should use that new DT hair afterall...? But ngl I don't really like it...

Don't get me wrong, it's great! ....It just doesn't compliment this face type.. On my previous post I wrote about how they add highlight to this face#7's forehead, and in theory I understand why they did it. But in practice and with this hair, I found it make his forehead distractingly bright and plastic-like and flat compared to the rest of his face that's carefully detailed and contoured. It looks odd, is what it is. That bright forehead also highlight (hurhur) how the front hair and roots don't have shadow at all, and my brain can't help thinking how wrong it look like every time I put this hair on him. Also I deliberately capture the above pic with indoor lighting, because in outdoor that forehead shine like lighthouse, good lord @_@. Being a Warrior of Light doesn't mean you have to become literal sun, dude.

So yeah that's my main wrinkle with this expansion, his hair and forehead. (first world problem) (while a throng of BLM and AST have a meltdown out there (*´・ｖ・). Tho I do feel pretty miffed right now regarding how they replace many gap closer with no-damage skill. Like, I can't surprise enemy by poking their head from above while laughing maniacally anymore?? HOW DARE YOU--- but this aimless rambling post already hella long without those rants. I'll keep it for another time..)

[strangestcase]

ok I know this might go unnoticed but if you pay close attention, you will notice Hyde has a characteristic speech pattern, talking in relatively short sentences, yet speaking formally, with proper vocabulary. we see this here in chapter nine, in which Hyde doesn't speak until he is safe in Lanyon's consulting room, and he spouts this:

but as he calms himself down, on Lanyon's insistence, and remembers his manners, and takes on a more gentlemanly range:

he now uses longer sentences with a more complex structure, to highlight that he is indeed the person Jekyll has sent to fetch the chemicals- you wouldn't send an idiot to do that, right?

and then, he does as Jekyll had promised: offering Lanyon the chance to discover what's really going on.

when this opportunity comes up, Hyde starts talking like Jekyll- his speech here is similar to Jekyll's writing style in the letters we had seen prior. it's not like this comes out of nowhere, since Jekyll had, since his introduction in chapter three, also used these more flowery turns of phrases, albeit in a more informal fashion, since he's talking to Utterson, face to face.

see? that's a pretty cerebral register

compare and contrast with Hyde's "definitive" introduction to the story in chapter two:

obviously this isn't some brainless idiot talking, but it's understandably more sparse. Hyde doesnt know Utterson- or more accurately, he's not supposed to know Utterson. how do you talk to someone you don't know? not with that same familiarity! the conversation that follows is also very sparse. even when Hyde's speech is paraphrased in Enfield's story, it is quick, grounded, and to-the-point. Hyde is a very intelligent person, and he knows how to modulate his speech depending on who he's talking to. people he doesn't know (or is pretending not to know) get short sentences, echoing phrases, monosyllables. people he WANTS to impress, people he WANTS to know who he really is and how smart he really is, like Lanyon in chapter nine, get a completely different thing. it's not like it comes out of nowhere because Hyde is a gentleman and like a gentleman he does talk, but it could come across as a surprise when you don't know the plot twist and assume Hyde always speaks that way.

when Lanyon replies to Hyde's sudden verbosity and says he doesn't understand him -which is fucking understandable-, Hyde digs his heels and carries on with the purple prose, and gloats in what I can only call a true mad scientist monologue... well, it's brief, but:

Since he's about to reveal his secret to Lanyon, there is no more need to pretend he's a simple delivery boy or whatever the hell Lanyon might think he could be. notice how he says "our profession", denoting he's a doctor as well, and how he talks to him as if he always knew him and knew his opinions, and didn't agree with him. no need to beat around the bush here, he must be thinking: I'm about to tell this guy I was Jekyll all along, so I no longer have to play the part of Hyde. he's dropped all pretenses. Hyde's more sparse dialogue might stem from a variety of factors (having to pretend to be someone else, modulating his speech to fit different situations, being more impulsive, dumbing himself down to avoid suspicion) but here they aren't a thing anymore, so he can just say whatever he wants, however he wants.

and here that entails talking like Jekyll.

so while to someone that doesnt know the twist this comes across as sudden and off-kilter (maybe as one of the many things making Hyde so strange?), to someone that does know it it's just a declaration of intentions... not a very nice one, but still! it sounds unsettling, having a character described as brutish and animalistic taking on a "smarter" range, as one would assume he would not be capable of that, but if you really think about it, that's not scary (also, what the fuck, dude, that's a pretty gross assumption to make!). what is really scary in the scene is not that Hyde apparently "becomes" smarter, it is that it's a small taste of what Jekyll/Hyde's "real" personality is like, and offers a glimpse of what the twist is going to be before it drops.

[valy-gc]

Artfight

I really loved artfight... I still love it...

And I suddenly been banned after 3 years, because one person can't just read descriptions and stop at one word.

Because I indicated my story as an "omegaverse" and they immediately assumed my story was NSFW, while it's not. And since most characters are 16 (well in a world with 16 months of 30 or 35 days each, it would correspond to 21 actually...) they have accused me of sexualizing minors... while there is NOTHING sexual in my story. Litterally nothing. Yeah I made the error to explain details about the world building (yeah sorry to be a writer and like to share when I create a whole world!) and to mention the first heat are at 16. Yeah, well, if anything, heats in this world is more similar to our periods. They just feel sick and weak. Nothing more. But no, for the person who reported me, that was sexual.

The context is an omegaverse, because it happens in a world where women disappeared and evolution took over and "alpha" and "omega" genders appeared. That's all...

Also, like I said I was there for 3 years... and with the same characters and the same story. And never had any problem. Got a lot of attacks, got a lot of peoples who actually read my descriptions and loved the story. And then there is this person who got me banned the actual year when she register into artfight...

Now... It's been two years I send appeals every. single. month, even tried with different mails sicne I started to wonder if they blocked me. Did I got an answer? Nope. Nothing. Not a single answer. Never.

One of my friends tried to ask directly on the discord servor. Either have been ignored or her messages have been completely deleted. Oh yeah, let's not expose the bad side, right?

She got one answer from a mod last year. The mod understood, comfirmed, with my story lore and explanation, that the bann was unfair, and said she will pass the message but since I made appeals and a deletion request (because I wanted to start over), I could make another account, no problem.

After two week I have been banned for ban evasion... while a MOD said it was ok? And guess what? No answer again, OF COURSE.

In the same time, the person who reported me made a huge scandal on the site (my friends still in artfight keep me in touch) because of a disgusting mass attack that offended peoples, and she just noted a "I'm sorry, I deleted my attack, forgive me" on her profil and is actually still in...

Oh not to mention the other person who litterally suicide baiting me on my profil, have been reported multiple time by me and my friends, but is actually still in, not banned, without even participating.

While I still don't have any answer, ever.

Another thing, this is not anymore but it really pissed me. I made a monthly donation with my first account. And when I got banned, the next month they still took money from me. I had to block them from paypal. Like "We bann you but give us your money" LOL

I just want to have fun again. That was a great way to improve my drawing, force my self to draw things I never usually draw... and I met a lot of cool peoples there too actually.

[zorilleerrant]

You can see numbers. Everyone can see numbers. Some people can even see the same numbers, but you've never met someone who can see yours. You don't talk about them, because that's the thing, isn't it. If you don't know what they are, who knows if they're something you're supposed to share?

You were told, as a child, the same things all children are told: don't tell anyone about the numbers. And of course the guidelines change as you get older and start to understand the difference between private and public discussions, as you start going in for consultations with the professionals at your school, and pediatrician's office, and, when they suggest it to your parents, a specialist who helps kids who are agitated by their abilities.

Of course you're agitated. You have no idea what your numbers mean. So you don't tell anybody.

Mostly, your family assumes you see death counters, like most of the people who won't talk about it. You think maybe the death counters aren't as common as all that, even if they're the most well known. Maybe, they think, you can see the number of people who hate them. They're happy they've avoided the discussion for those who can see the number of sexual partners someone has had, that they never had to make up euphemisms for you, tell you it's a kind of special friend. Or, at least, you might be able to see the number of someone's current sexual partners, except if so everyone is sleeping around a lot more than you thought, and they tend to break up with each other at very inopportune moments.

Your childhood best friend can see the death counter. They told you that, over lunch one day, and their number swung up wildly. But you just held their hand and nodded, saying nothing, and the number fluttered back down. To zero, for a moment, when you shared your fries. They know you don't want to talk about your numbers, and that's fine, because they don't want to talk about theirs. Only a handful of people know, and your best friend only sticks to the ones that don't ask. They were registered, early on, but they never wanted to join the military or be a doctor anyway. Teachers rarely have to worry about the numbers over their students' heads.

Your boss can see people's net worth. He brags about being an amazing judge of character, able to tell the scams and the bad investments just by looking. They let him handle contracts, and he reels in the big fish over and over again, and all you can think is that the number floating above his head drops when he does, but flies so high when his wife calls him on the phone. All the people he spends his time buttering up have low numbers. He tells you if he could see his own number, it would impress even him, and his number drops to zero every time he says it. He's not allowed to trade stocks.

Your mother and father can both see the number of words in the last sentence someone said to another person. They bonded over it. It's not so odd to see the number of words in a sentence, but it's usually over different criteria, and they love the fact that theirs is so useless, so fun. They love looking at the number 1 over and over again with speakers of agglutinating languages, they love the changes in sentences signed and then typed out. They love debating how many words an acronym counts as. They love the conflicting evidence. They have no advice for you.

When you get to college, you have two roommates freshman year. One has a number that rarely fluctuates, low and steady, and not accompanied by that smug smile so many later people with that same pattern have. Instead, you have to deal with the single most boring person you've ever met. Your other roommate is different. Number fluctuating wildly, up and up, and sometimes crashing down as you walk in on crying jags you wish you hadn't seen. When you watch your roommate get kicked out of school, the number is so high you can't read it anymore.

The rest of college you room with a couple of people who have average numbers. They go up and down a lot, situationally, rather than in any noticeable pattern. You find those people are easier to get along with. They see how much water you've drunk that day and how many hours you've slept, respectively, but you know them well enough that you know that, and it's easier dealing with a little bit of nagging in the face of that. They date people whose numbers look like theirs, mostly, but you try not to pay too much attention to who they date. Number always go up and up as people reach for a breakup. You don't say anything.

Your neighbor has a fun one: she can see the numbers of people's pets. She doesn't understand what you mean by numbers changing. Hers are usually static for the longest time, occasionally jumping by one or two, or sometimes, when someone's pet has a litter, more than that. She always gets the saddest look when someone's number drops, and her number jumps, as if in response. It's not really useful for anything, she tells you, but it's not quite one of those things you have to keep quiet about. She uses it for celebrity trivia, sometimes.

Numbers go up when you talk to people about numbers, once you get more used to opening up about it. Since no one knows what yours mean, you can't invade anyone's privacy. You still don't like to say in public, in crowds, with professionals who seem sure you must have a better idea what you can see than you do. But you can see the numbers go up when you bring them up. You can see them go up when other people mention their gifts, too.

Numbers go down when people eat alone and up when they eat in groups. Numbers go up when people go walking, and down when they go running. Numbers go up when people stare at other people in the crowd. Numbers go down when people drink water. Numbers go up when people sleep. More for a nightmare, usually, but more for the people who dream in black and white or other languages, too. Lucid dreamers have the same rapid jumps and shifts as the waking. Often, when a number is very high, your friend will wake up wide-eyed, and tell you about some fantastic creature that they saw.

The most fascinating one you notice is in the library. Less so, in school, where if anything numbers went down when the computers turned on, but you'll see people sit, still and silent, their number at zero, and stare. And then suddenly the number skyrockets, their fingers frenetic at the keys, and slowly dwindles, like layers peeling away, the typist laser focused with some expression flashing almost faster than their fingers. Someone writing at a relaxed pace in some pristine notebook, and then in a flurry of digits, crossing out lines and ripping out pages and marking down thought after thought. The numbers go up as they run their fingers along the spines of books, too. As they curl up with one and slowly turn the pages. More for science fiction, and even more for fantasy, but numbers go up as the pages turn, and sometimes, towards the end, collapse back down again. It does this for TV, too. Movies.

There are some books you're attached to because you always see the numbers stretch when people pick one up, thumb through it, read it front to back. They're not the same for every person, but you've learned to pick up on the patterns of it. In this book, the numbers will jump a little at the beginning of chapter three. In that one, halfway through the numbers skyrocket. In the other people hit ten right away, the numbers steadily lowering until they reach the end. In another the ending makes one person's number swirl back and forth for ages, and another drop to one and stay there for the longest time. You keep these on your shelf. When you look at them, you wonder if your number does the same thing. You flip it open to the pages with the words that pin the numbers in place.

In another world, someone could see the same numbers you do, tell you where you sat from moment to moment. In another world, your best friend might see reflections instead of death. In another world, everyone can see their own numbers, and you'd only have to glance at a mirror to know which one sat above your head. In another world, everyone's numbers mean the same thing. In another world, you only have yours, but at least you know.

Since birth you could see a counter above people’s heads. It doesn’t count down to their death. It goes up and down randomly. You’re desperate to find out what it means.