#this is just a cringe phase. it will pass.

[widevibratobitch]

girls will say 'im normal about this show' and then reblog thirty posts in a row in the span of like 15 minutes

[valleyofdeaddandelions7]

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. satoru’s love for you has never diminished—even after being your husband for a few years now. in fact, his love for you continues to increase with each passing day.

wc. 500-ish

tags. husband!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff. satoru being clingy as per usual. reader gets called ‘sweetheart, my wife.’

“and my lovely wife right here will have the vanilla flavour,” satoru announces to the ice cream man. he’s smiling from ear to ear as he shamelessly puts emphasis on the word ‘lovely’.

it’s embarrassing to you. especially because everyone in the queue - plus the vendor - is staring at you. some giggle at the affectionate display from your husband, others just stare or roll their eyes.

satoru does not care about any of them. all he cares about is expressing his love to you in any way he can—whenever, wherever. this time he went for a much more. . . direct approach.

“you didn’t have to say it like that,” you mumble under your breath. you tug at satoru’s arm, clinging onto him whilst hiding your face against his bicep.

you get even more flustered when the man behind the counter nods at your lover’s words—telling you he ‘agrees that you’re indeed a lovely woman’.

satoru feels a sense of pride in having you with him. he always does. seeing the reactions of others when he’s boasting about having a pretty wife makes him feel all giddy.

“why? i’m proud of my wife,” satoru shrugs nonchalantly. he lowers his head to yours, looking you in the eyes from behind his sunglasses. he giggles once he sees that flustered expression of yours from up close.

the sorcerer ruffles your hair before over excessively nuzzling his cheek against yours. perhaps he’s actually experiencing what’s called a love surge, “my girl, my sweetheart.”

you cringe at the cheesy moment that’s happening. you love satoru and his clingy affectionate gestures, but when you’re surrounded by a bunch of people, it can become overwhelming.

you whimper and scrunch your nose up, “mghhh, stop it—we’re in public, ‘toru.”

a futile attempt to stop the white haired man. though, after a few seconds, he actually halts his movements. satoru pouts dramatically whilst holding your face in his hands. he squeezes your cheeks together, “awww. . . but what if i want the world to know that i’m the luckiest man ali—ow!”

you bite satoru’s thumb the second it teasingly rubs with your bottom lip. he’s always so touchy and knows no boundaries when it comes to pda. however, it does make you happy to know that he’s not afraid to show you off to the world.

you playfully frown at your husband, his thumb still between your teeth. it’s cute how easily flustered you get. it makes him want to play with you some more—to tease you some more.

“alright, alright,” satoru gives up and sighs deeply. his head is held low as he steps back to give you some space, “i jus’ wanted to let my girl know how much i adore her, y’know.”

“hah, i’m not falling for your dramatics this time,” you chuckle and roll your eyes. you grab your order once it’s done and walk out of the shop without waiting for your pouty but lovely husband.

you hear him whine out your name. satoru hurriedly grabs his own ice cream cone before rushing after you. once he’s caught up, he wraps his arms around you from behind and lifts you up.

“hey! you can’t just leave your hubby like that. c’mere,” satoru smirks and you can hear it in his voice. you kick your legs, though to no avail.

“gojo satoru! don’t you dare,” you warn whilst holding tightly onto your dessert. satoru ignores your warning and spins you around in circles with him—laughing at your high pitched shrieks.

he doesn’t stop until you’re both dizzy and have to hold onto each other to prevent from falling. satoru kisses your neck gently and you can feel him smiling against your skin, “i love you, sweetheart.”

his love for you has and will never fade. many may say that the honeymoon phase will end sooner or later in a marriage, but that’s definitely not the case with your marriage.

satoru will always be head over heels for you and his affection for you will never stop. even if you’re both old and grey; he’s going to love you all the same.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Lucifer

For Him:

He loves it when you call him anything super cheesy. Add some heart and soul to it, and he is obsessed.

Call him cringy things like Stud Muffin, Sugar Bear, and Honey Pie. He is so into it.

He will 100% melt if you call him princess. His kryptonite is you two lounging in bed playing with his hair while you call him your sweet boy or princess.

His hard no's are anything super vulgar that borderline comes off as sexual.

He wants to keep your relationship sweet and adoring until you get to bed.

For You:

He immediately goes for Duck, Ducky, or Duckling. He just can't help it. You remind him of his second favorite thing.

If he gets out of his ducky phase, which, let's face it, he won't. He likes to use names like Doll, Buttercup, and Baby.

He loves to call you his Queen or King just because he wants you to know how serious he is about sharing everything with you.

He won't call you princess; he has reserved that for Charlie, and he would really hate for a 'pass the salt' moment between you and his kid.

He can't wait for the day he gets to call you mommy or daddy, though, in a nonsexual way.

Adam

For Him:

Adam LOVES when you call him God. As blasphemes as it is, it fuels his ego to the extreme.

He also likes the classic babe, baby, and honey. However, he wouldn't mind a private, memorable name.

He doesn't like to be overly gushy in public, so in private, you can get away with calling him something snuggly, like Teddy Bear or Honey Muffin.

A hard no for him is anything derogatory; as funny as it is, since he is the king of derogatory remarks, he doesn't know how to take the heat back.

He is a certified Lover Boy and will melt if you call him so, well, only if no one else is around.

For You:

Of course, we got the classic Adam phrases we all know and love Bitch, Baby Cakes, Sugar tits, and Baby.

However, he is unafraid to publicly call you things like his treasure, angel, or princess.

He will 100% call you a simp and Lover in the same sentence to throw you off guard.

He wont call you anything derogatory in the bed room though unless you ask for it, he feels like your alone time in the bed room is meant for him to worship you not hurt you.

He loves it when you let him call you his goddess and other high-paying names.

Vox

For Him:

He is an old timey classics guy, he is in love with Baby, Honey, and Sugar like no other.

When it is just you two alone he never wants to hear his legal government name leave your mouth

As for in public its a little odd because he does have a persona but also just look at you your his everything

He hates anything overly sweet it is very gross to him when you drop a BooBooBear or a Hunk-A-Lunk just say normal shit

He loves when you call him the light of your life though makes him feel like he is doing good by you

For You:

He wants to keep the old-timey feel for you, too, but he may get a little creative. It's casual, babe, baby, and honey, but he may add in a pumpkin cupcake or princess.

He has no problem using pet names for you 24/7, even in the public eye. He has to show who owns you, after all.

When you are alone, he will use just a simple babe to get your attention because he wants to be soft and mundane with you.

He won't call you any crazy names, either. He finds them distasteful, but if you asked, he may find it in his heart to cave in.

Thrives when you call him daddy as much as when you let him call you mommy.

Husk

For Him:

Certified Daddy Energy. Call him Daddy or Papi, and he melts like putty in your hands.

He also loves it when you call him other things, like baby or babe; those are classics that keep him going.

He doesn't mind the overly cringe-worthy nicknames that are long for no reason. Generally, the longer, the better because it eventually makes him laugh.

He refuses to be called anything relating to a cat, no whiskers, kitten, or kitty. He hears it from Al but wants to avoid hearing it from you.

If you call him something super sentimental, like the love of my life or my other half, he is a weak man.

For You:

He worships you and the ground you walk on because he believes you deserve so much better and will leave.

You are God, Goddess, Princess, Prince, King, Queen, or any high official title to make you feel good.

He loves hitting you with super sentimental pet names that show how much he cares about you.

He won't call you anything super mushy; it just isn't him. Though he likes how creative you get, he isn't much for it.

He loves calling you mommas or mommy when you two are out and about.

[beesfairlyland]

How to get you Desires instantly?...jk...just wanna talk about my take on 'void state'!!

First of all i hate the word void (not kinda hate hate...but the way ppl are obsessed over it... even i was once lol). After studying the concept of Non-Duality the way i used to see the void ...the way i used to put it on pedestal (i cringed😭) it all changed. I realised we are putting something on the pedestal to which we give the existence.

Void is nothing more than a state that exists because YOU give your awareness to it. Void is a state just like Bee(me) is a state that SELF created! There's nowhere to reach/enter.

Void is nothing but just to be aware of being unconscious. To be aware while this body sleeps.

Okayy I'll ask you to simply meditate....not to reach anywhere...not to enter void....not to get your desires.

Soo first get in comfortable position to meditate.

Now just focus on your breathing, let the thoughts pass by don't engage with them. Just watch them and keep your focus on breathing.

Slowly your mind will start to quieten. As your are observing all this happening. You'll know that you are just the observer of thoughts...you are not the thought....these thoughts ain't yours but of this unreal mind's.

This meditation is to just make you realise that you are the awareness behind these thoughts not the thought itself.

Continue focusing on the breathing. There will be a moment where the mind will become silent and that's when you are one with the awareness. That's the NON-DUAL STATE aka the void state.

This meditation is not to reach the non dual state.... it's to know that you are the observer doesn't matter if the mind goes silent or not. Just to experience who you are try this meditation with zero expectations. If mind got silent great!! But if it didn't then also greatt!!

Now the main problem/mistake that ppl do while meditating for the non-dual state(void state). They don't let the mind think itself....they think with the mind themselves. Didn't understand? Wait lemme explain....you don't let the mind wander or think on it's own instead you yourself start thinking....if i am doing it right, how much more time, it'll be happening soon bla bla.

Just only coz y'all 'try' the void to get your 'desires' that feeling makes you anxious. Getting everything all at once sounds too good to be true to the ego (tho you ALREADY have everything) soo it starts getting anxious and that's totally opposite of meditating.

When bloggers say 'void' is easy....IT ISSS. But this ego don't wanna believe it.

And no you really don't need to affirm, or do methods, listen to subliminals, need a void concept (lol wtf is even that), LITERALLY NOTHING. IT'S JUST A STATE THAT YOU BECOME AWARE OF!!

It's just you are aware of getting your 'desires' instantly... that's why you get your 'desires' instantly. Void ain't your purest form or something. It's just a state from which you can experience you being the awareness from the closest (or may be not).

Literally ppl have hyped it soo much that now it's toxic. I am not against the 'void state'. But the way ppl ruin their mental health by putting something like this on the pedestal....it shrinks my heart. Coz I've been thru that and i don't want y'all go thru the same phase of exhaustion.

Just know that it's just a made up state just like this ego is made up by the SELF. Nothing special at all!!

Hope i could convey what i wanted too!🫶🏻✨

-Love, bee💗🧚🏻‍♀️

[yorsgirl]

Take the long way home

Tags: Ryomen Sukuna x gn!reader, emotional hurt/comfort, established relationship, implied college AU, no use of pronouns or y/n. w.c. 1.5k (ig?)

A/N: purely self indulgent + had the worst fucking day possible so let me give you some fluff <3

It's not everyday that you slouch like this.

Sukuna knows that clearly. Considering he thinks he almost has you and all of your antics figured out—creating a mind map for himself. He knows you go through your phases where you'll just shut yourself in a room or a corner in the house; a need for tranquility rather than depravity.

Even then, this- this is different. Well, not that different. You almost act the way you normally do yet the aura that radiates from you just heightens his instincts that screams at him that something's wrong.

"Spit it, what's wrong?"

You merely crane your neck towards him, there's a vague expression of thought process as you scrunch up your eyebrows before relaxing them. Softly do you shake your head with a low hum indicating - nothing, before you seclude him from your attention.

Alright, something's definitely wrong.

You've always been a hard nut to crack, dreading the idea of opening up to someone and fearing how literally any weakness can be exploited. You aren't completely a pessimist but this trait of yours had certainly impressed Sukuna more than he'd like to admit. Yet, here now, with you slouching like this beside him, falling a few steps behind just to increase the pace and catch up to him and you don't even give him a verbal answer, this causes an ire of vexation to alight in him.

No, not now. He exhales softly and attempts again.

"Oi," He doesn't receive a response this time around. Clearing his throat, he lowers his tone, nudging your shoulder. "I am calling you."

"Mhm... what?"

He marks the low tone of voice with the two seconds delayed response. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"You're slouching."

Instantly, you straightened your back, locking your hands behind. With a non-commital shrug, you ask, "Better?"

"No." Normally, you'd have bitten back with a sarcastic remark. This time you don't. Involuntarily, he scans you with narrowed eyes. "What's so damn depressing that can't even say it?"

"I told you, I am fine."

There's the denial again.

"Right,"He hisses, hoping his lack of belief is evident. "You don't look fine at all."

"If I don't look fine then stop asking."

This time round, you completely turn your attention towards him. A palpable scowl is etched upon your features and while oftentimes did the exact same expression irritate him, here it only bothers him. Bothersome that you are hell bent on hiding something from him. When did he ever made you feel like that? Sure, he has a reputation around the town but you should've known by now that none of that attitude will ever be bestowed upon you.

Sukuna runs his fingers through his hair before they curl around his locks and he purposely gives them a sharp tug. He can just leave you to slump and hope you'll get better on your own which you of course will. However, just the thought of it gnaws at him causing him to cringe in extreme disgust. How could he just leave you to your own misery and expect you to get over it when it is bothering you so damn much? For all he knows, he could be the reason of this state of yours. No, he'd rather watch cocomelon for a wholw fucking day with his nephew than leave you like this. On cue does an idea pops up his head and wow- luck's just on his side.

Both of you exit the college campus, Sukuna's a step ahead of you as he strides to his bike. He swings his leg over the vehicle and once comfortable with his position, he clasps his helmet and passes you another.

"Let's take the long way home."

In response, you could only squint your eyes, a hint of silent protest slips on your features and just when he thought you'd retaliate, you don't. Instead, you pinch your lips together before giving him the positive note.

"Fine," You perch behind him, scooting closer as you wrap your arms around his waist. "But we are going straight home."

"Whatever you say, your highness."

Sukuna whistles with a approving grin before revving on the engine and soon he is out of the driveway.

True to his words, he is making this drive a long one. The idea of it stemmed from the fact that your uncharacteristic silence had just been so loud that he could have hit his head somewhere. Obviously, you aren't ready to open up to him and he knows. He gets it, he really does. Hence, all of it comes down to this.

Something's got you all pissy and what's better than a late night drive to cure you?

Besides, didn't you always say that only music and drives make you feel better? At this instant, he can't provide the music so you'll have to compensate on that.

"Will be on the highway soon."

"Yeah..." You trail off on the word but don't add anything further.

Well, not for long.

Definitely, it wasn't for long.

Sukuna speeds up his bike racing past the, few, surrounding vehicles. The accelerating of the engine almost cuts off all the external sound and although it might seem boisterous to some personal, all it does is fuel up his crave for thrill. (Hopefully, yours too)

Late at night, the highway is a typical one. Thick darkness coats the road except for the streetlights which provides little to no light. The asphalt ribbon like road stretched out ahead and finally disappears into the inky unknown. All of it has a spooky vibe, an eerieness with the quite of the night which only upturns the fact that this might just turn into one of those clichéd horror movies.

Fortunately, your thoughts aren't that far.

"Are you trying to enact the movie we saw last week?"

Progress, good. Though you can't see it, he raises an eyebrow, "Why? Scared, are you?"

"You wish," You scoff playfully. "It had the very same plot and the very same ending as all the other ones."

"Like you have got any better."

"Hey–" You protest. "The notebook was good."

He exhales loudly, "Same old romantic shit."

"Your action movies aren't doing anything good either by breaking the laws the of physics." You muse with a subtle curve of your lips.

"Better than your sentimental historical dramas."

You pucker your lips, "They aren't that bad."

"Yeah?"

"Well fine," You sigh exasperately. "We all have our guilty pleasures."

"You-" Sukuna corrects, overtaking a car on the road. "You have your guilty pleasures, not me."

"I saw you binging MasterChef the other day."

This manages to throw him off guard. His lips twist in a notable frown and he refrains from turning back to look at you. "How the fuck do you know that?"

"Uh huh," You grin and he calls your name which only makes your grin wider.

"For fuck's sake, when?"

"Mhm, not telling."

"I am not going to ask again."

"Well don't," You coo at him. "All the good for me."

"That was a warning, brat."

"Oh my," You gasp in mock surprise. "To me that sounded like a love confession."

He calls your name again, this time though you're pressing your face on his back as you try to hold back the laughter; failing miserably.

The sound of your saccharine chuckles mingles with the wind, carrying a sense of serenity which for unknown reasons could only soften the callous boy, in front of you. The tender gasps of breath as you try to recoil could never be more calming. Even with the throttling engine, the way you've clutched his shirt for support makes him question does a more perfect moment could ever exists?

You relax only thirty seconds later.

"Better?"

There's an undeniable soft edge in his voice which fails to elude you. Looking back, there's two questions strewn into one.

You nod, "Better."

Sukuna hums, staying silent for a few seconds before questioning again. "Wanna talk about it?"

You think over the offer for a second or two before indulging him. Nestling yourself closer to him, you begin, "Today was just... bad. Like from the time I woke up, everything's just– uh, what should I say? Everything's just—"

"Screwing itself up?"

"Screwing itself up."

A silence prevails for sometime then you continue, "It's not something big but well... it's kind of just tiring."

Though the details are vague, Sukuna listens through it all. Quipping back once or twice which elicited a chuckle or two from you. The rest of the drive in the highway in spent in you pouring out all of the conundrum which were bestowed upon you. None of them aren't that major but the accumulation of it all is certain to ruin anyone's day; he wouldn't be an exception either.

"So–" He starts after you're done venting. "Just cause you had this shitty day, you're getting this. We can get takeout from anywhere you want then we go home, you turn on any of your guilty pleasures or we can just check who has the better movie choices among say, what say?"

"Yes!" You exclaim, tightening your hold on his waist and Sukuna could almost picture the twinkle in your eyes and the delighted curve of your lips. In all cases, he will deny that such an insignificant gesture could ever make blood rush up to the center of his chest, could ever make him grin like an idiot; in truth, it does. You rest your chin on his back. "Can we get sushi?"

"You brat–"He mutters under his breath. "Sushi, it is."

[moonsaver]

I READ YOUR POST (and also anon!) ABOUT REBELLIOUS! VERITAS/RATIO, GOOD LORD..

Your writing is very good! And I like it! I'm having it for breakfast, lunch, dinner, everytime

BUT LIKE, LISTEN TO ME, WHAT IF S/O WAS REBELLIOUS LIKE HIM TOO. But not like actually him, just typical rebellious student back then. Like, breaking the rules, pissing off the teachers, etc

AND, HIS S/O IS LIKE NOW, NORMAL. A PROFESIONAL, and probably embarrassed of their phase back then. I do see them being Friendly and chilled with Ratio?? Or like "Oh crap, it's the old rebellious dude that tries to teach me random smart stuffs"

But in my opinion, I do see S/O just being like "Oh, what's up Ratio" and just being neutral. Greeting him whenever they passed by or see each other again, while also slightly joking about the things Ratio tried to teach them back then. As they told him that they actually listened to his teaching.. Even though it's.. Well, it's used by unsuccessful methods

BUT ALSO, YOU KNOW HOW XINYAN WOULD TELL EMBARRASSING STORIES ABOUT SHEHNE AND GANYU?

S/O WOULD DO THAT, telling Ratio old rebellious phase embarrassing stories to his students whenever they feel afraid of him. Like

"Oh, did you know that your professor (Veritas Ratio), used to talk so much about our teacher that just give the slightest wrong formula, to the point he keeps getting send to the office? Hah! I was there!"

As Ratio stood there with hidden embarrassed look, as he tries to hold the urge to not shut S/O up.

I'M SORRY IF I'M BOTHERING YOU, THE VOICES ARE COMMANDING ME... THE VOICES OF MY SIMPING FOR RATIO.

QNON ANON QNON!!!!YOU ARE FEEDING ME TOO I PROMISE YOU CAN BOTHER ME (its not even bothering me i love these asks),,, THE TENSION THAT IUST DISSIPATWS HAHAHA WAIT WAIT

Under the cut,might be long!

Soso, you're the rebellious kid who's butting heads with the other jerkwad, the only difference between you two is that he's just a nerd on top of being a rebellious kid. He's the "worst" of both worlds.

It's a very cliche enemies to strangers to acquaintances who respect each other to tension between possible lovers. Its kind of funny.

In your student days, I imagine the moment both of you see each other in the hall, you scowl at each other. Or make fun of something the other has. Maybe he's lugging a bulky art project and you make fun of him saying he looks like a turtle dragging his own shell. Maybe you left your bag's zip open and Veritas comments on how "devoid of knowledge" it is, "like your head" (you forgot all your books somewhere, your bag is completely empty). God forbid either of you tried something experimental and the other catches a glimpse of it. If they're not within talking distance, they'll shout on the top of their lungs. To both of you, the louder it is the more humiliation is involved. You'll find this method is often used by Veritas, as he openly quizzes you and chides LOUDLY that you're a BUFFOON and an IDIOT for not knowing a SIMPLE FORMULA. You decide to retaliate by stealing more than half his stationary, so now he has to scramble to gather extras and literally no one helps him cause he's a jerk lol.

Everyone on campus absolutely either hates it or loves it. Theres fanpages of you two with cringe edits,or those really well-made shitpost ones. Sometimes your classmates just bait the other to go a certain place just so you two cross paths and stir up a lot of trouble. The teachers are all done with both of you.

Cut to the future (or present?), reader's a professor too now. Let's assume either of them is unaware when they join the job (as implied by the request).

I imagine professor reader, if they manage to stay calm and just.. talk normally, it does give Dr. Ratio some whiplash. His pride demands he straightens himself out though, so it's not too soon before he himself drones on about some or the other tedious topic. You mention the past and how often you used to butt heads, and Veritas' first instinct is to immediately retaliate the way his past self would have done; but he stops himself in time, and sighs at it. You've painstakingly ingrained that response into him. But he's still slightly embarrassed nonetheless. It's not too soon before the conversation becomes more relaxed (I mean.. considering Veritas,as relaxed as he lets it be), and as a form of "nostalgia" he brings up all the questions he used to ask you back then, only to be pleasantly surprised when you give him detailed but professional answers. It's not too soon before he learns that you've become a professor aswell. Dr. Ratio congratulates you – with reservations of course, which is completely thrown out the window when you tell him you knew all of this because.. you listened to him.

Ugh. Don't make him feel so sappy. A part of him detests it; warming up and being all chummy with a hopeless classmate of all people. But a part of him is.. kind of happy about it.

Which is promptly changed the moment you also realize he's a professor now.

And that his students aren't spared from the nostalgia either.

He's bursting through the door, jaw dropped, angry and shocked face as you prattle on about how much of an asshole he was back in the day to his students. For a moment, he contemplates whether he should just throw chalk at you and make an example of you to his students, or drag you out. After a few seconds of paralyzed contemplation, he immediately grabs you by the back of your collar and drags you out before something else comes out of your mouth.

It's almost the same all over again – both of you bickering back and forth as he's all pissy about you spilling everything to his students! You've positively tarnished his reputation! Perhaps he shall tell your students how you used to walk around wearing a lanyard and a shirt with the institution name written on it in big, bold letters on the first day? Or that time you tripped and faceplanted right into the trashcan while you complained about his (axe bodyspray) deodorant?

Ugh.. he'll just deal with you later. Although he won't admit this even to himself.. it's nice seeing you again. He didn't think of that, it must be the headache you gave him that's making him think all weird.

--

[luveline]

kbd universe is my absolute favorite 🤩 maybe a request for when the new baby is home and she’s going through a colicky phase and won’t sleep and reader and steve are super stressed and doubting if they can do this and avery overhears and reassured them they’re the best parents? (srry if this is too specific, any direction you go will be amazing!!)

ty babe ♡ kisses before dinner au

Avery Harrington wakes up with her little sister's hand over her nose. She snorts in surprise, bed springs creaking formidably as she dislodges the small hand and rolls away from her added heat.

Bethie, the younger sister in question, has been sneaking into Avery's bed at night to put distance between them and the nonstop crying of the new baby. The baby, Avery notices, seems to be crying right now from downstairs. 

She lets her curiosity get the better of her. Slipping out of bed, she makes sure to cover Bethie with the blankets again before she leaves just like their dad does, imitating Steve's gentle cheek touch before creeping away. You and dad finally got rid of the baby gates (though they've been on and off over the years, you've retired them until the youngest learns to crawl), making her journey down a secret one. 

She can hear two voices at once just under the rattling baby cries. Steve's louder and yours softer, both speaking with the love Avery's come to expect. 

"Maybe try holding her legs higher," you suggest. 

"I think I've held her every way a baby can be held without hanging her upside down." 

"I know, honey." You're always tired lately, your voice hoarse with fatigue. "I can have her again. Pass her over." 

You get sweet when you're tired. Her dad gets cranky. He told Avery once that that's why you're good together, but Avery knows you can be just as cranky after a while. 

Avery pauses in the door of the living room. You're sitting on the farthest seat of the leather couch while Steve's standing, passing the baby to you carefully. She cries and cries no matter how much caution he shows. 

"What if she never stops?" Steve asks. 

"She will. She'll get too tired to keep going." 

"I heard about this baby who had his heart in the wrong place." 

"Steve. Honey, sit down. You're tired." 

"I can't sleep while she's crying like that. No point." 

Avery frowns as the conversation between you both devolves. She doesn't want to make things worse by showing you that she's awake, watching and waiting in the dark as you pat the baby's back desperately, and Steve's eyes get glassy. 

Avery has seen her dad cry loads of times. At the movies, the radio, sad stories. Steve cried when she broke her pinky finger, and cried again when they took the cast off. Avery isn't sure she's seen him get upset over something like this. 

He whispers something. You whisper back, trying to hold his hand in the dark, but you stop when he says, "What if we can't do this?" 

"Steve, we have to. This is it. And we want to, so… I don't know." You sound dejected yourself, looking down at the baby where she refuses to take a bottle hopelessly. "Maybe we can't do it." 

Avery can't know that neither of you truly feel this way, that you're both tired enough to catastrophize. She just watches her dad, an unshakable pillar of support, start to waver, and she knows you've got it wrong. 

"Daddy?" she asks. 

Steve rubs his eyes with a rough hand. "Ave?" he asks, plastering a meek smile over his face. He's one of the handsome dad's, everybody says so, probably because he's always smiling. 

"Sorry, did the baby wake you up?" you ask. 

Avery grins as Steve opens his arms and runs into them. Too tired to lift her up, Steve stays crouched for the hug, but eventually sits on the floor, pulling Avery into his lap. Closer, Avery cringes at the baby and her screaming. 

"Beth smushed my nose," she says. 

Steve turns her face to check it over. "You look okay. Does it hurt?" He squeezes her cheeks into a smile. 

"No," she laughs. 

Steve gives her another hug. "Well, that's good." 

He just cuddles her. Avery melts into his touch, the sound of the baby's cries feeling further away, Steve's hand covering one of her ears. 

"Sorry," he says into her hair. "I know it's not fair. Baby's just figuring out what she needs." 

"You said you can't do it." 

Baby shrieks. Steve pulls Avery's head back. "What?" 

"You and mom." Avery turns to look at you. You're frowning, bobbing the baby against your chest. "You said we can't do it." 

"We were being silly," Steve says. 

"We're tired," you agree.

"And your sister won't stop crying, we're worried she's not well, and it's really tiring, Ave, but we weren't thinking straight. Of course we can do it," Steve says breezily. 

"Yes, you can. You're the best mom and dad ever. Ever ever!" she says severely. "You can do everything, I know you can do it. Maybe I can have her and you guys can sleep and then tomorrow you'll be ready again." 

You and Steve laugh at the same time, chuckles that warm her heart, though she knows she's being shot down. "That's really nice of you, but that's okay. Me and mom got this," Steve says, brushing the back of his finger down her cheek.

Avery preens at the attention, back going lax in his arm. Steve leans down to hug her, his chin digging into her shoulder, heavy with fatigue. She doesn't tell him to move. 

It's a miracle that the baby seems to run out of steam not long after, marked by your happy sigh, "Aw, good girl. You're hungry, I knew it. You just don't like these bottle nibs." 

"See? I told you you could do it," Avery says.

You offer her a grateful, adoring smile. "You're my smart girl, that's why." You bop the baby on the nose with the tip of your finger. "And you're my tired girl." 

"What about me?" Steve asks. 

"You're my pillow, handsome. Come up here, I need to lean on you. Ave, you can be my blanket." 

[petrichor-idyllic]

Can u do Minho x reader where reader is just gawking at minhos arms and he catches her 🤭 it can be a gender neutral reader with spice ☝🏽

Alright, alright, I know, I have been very MIA, very sorry, life is a lot atm.

But this request is an easy one, so I'm tryna get through the easy ones. (Totally not cause I'm procrastinating a massive request and have fallen back into my OBX phase or anything shhh)

BEST FEATURE

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. GN! Reader x Minho. Takes place before the arrival of Thomas.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, you're a simp, sorry, spice.

You like to pretend that you're a level headed and controlled person. That things such as desire or general human nature don't faze you and you're focused on work and helping around the Glade.

And, for the most part - that is completely believable.

Mainly because Minho is always out in the Maze. Thank God.

Because every time you guys are in the same room, you can't take your eyes off of him. His shoulders, his back, his weirdly perfect hair, that stupid blue shirt that just clings to him in the best way- and his arms.

(Something you and a specific future Greenie and ex-WCKD member would have in common.)

His arms.

His fucking arms, man.

You just can't help yourself. He walks back into the Glade every day, sweaty and dishevelled, his blue shirt sleeves rolled up as he casually glances at you as he walks past. Sometimes, you swear he walks past you on purpose .

Newt suspects you purposely hang around the Map Room so he has to.

It's been months, and you just can't seem to force yourself to get over it. You've tried, but Minho is the hottest guy in the Glade.

You're fucked, basically.

That is no different when it comes to Bonfire night. A new Greenie pops up, every gets hammered, Gally gets in a fight, Alby looks like he's gonna have a stroke.

But it's all in good fun.

Minho doesn't normally join in the festivities. He's a very stressed individual. Sometimes, you think about attempting to convince him to join in so he can let off some steam, but you don't.

I mean, most of your thoughts are about him letting off some steam. If you get what I mean.

But, this specific night, somehow, Newt, the absolute Lord and saviour he is, has managed to convince Minho to play a game of beer pong.

Well, not beer pong, but "Gally's suspicious special brew pong" is a bit of a mouthful.

You sit at the sides with a couple of boys, watching Minho laugh along as he throws a ball (a screwed up piece of tinfoil) into a cup across the table. Cheers break out in his success, but you just stare.

Minho's arms flex under his shirt, the curve of his upper arm visible through his shirt, his forearm tenses as he goes to throw the ball agsin you swear you can see the blood pumping veins from here.

"You're drooling, mate." You're snapped back to reality as you look at Newt, who passes you a drink.

"Huh?" You catch on. "What? No - I'm not." You attempt to lie, but the heat rising through your face is a bit of a hint.

"Yeah - you are. As always."

"What? What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what it means." You look away in respond, groaning as you rub your face with your hands.

"Shut up."

Newt snorts at this, rubbing your back with a mocking "There, there."

You want to punch him.

"Yo, (Y/N)!" You look up, heat rising in your face as Minho shouts you. "Ben just bailed on us, you wanna take his place?"

You open your mouth to speak, but your words catch in your throat, causing Newt to cringe in second hand embarrassment.

"Jesus Christ," he mumbles. "Yeah! They'd love to join." He nudges you. "Right?"

You clearly your throat. "Uh, yeah? Yeah."

Minho chuckles at this. "Come on, then."

You look at Newt again, as he nods his head to go join. Awkwardly, you stand up, walking over to join Minho's team.

"You know how to play?" He asks you.

"Uh, yeah- yeah, I know how to play." You attempt to sound confident.

"Cool - I should shuckin' hope so, you've been watching like a hawk." Oh God, he noticed. He noticed you staring. Hopefully, you can play it off as just being interested in the game.

"Y-yeah. Looked like you guys were having fun."

Please don't notice. Please don't notice. Please don't notice.

Please.

Minho's eyes flicker down you, almost like he's examining you, but also like he's drinking in your appearance, a slight smirk playing on his lips before he looks you in the eyes again. "Uh, huh."

Oh, God.

You immediately look away as another Glader passes you the ball for your turn. You miss, instantly as your body feels flushed, and then the game continues.

This goes on for quite some time.

You would think that any normal person would look away, now. I mean, Minho has noticed and Newt is undoubtedly going to bully you for it later. But, you are not that person, and you just can't help yourself.

Up close and personal, Minho looks like a God carved him out of stone. And when it's his turn, your eyes fall on his arms.

Because of course they do.

The way he rolls his sleeves up further, his muscles tensing, his veins flexing as you follow them down his forearms and down the back of his strong hands. You're seeing stars and your brain feels fuzzy.

"You good?" Minho's voice snaps you back to reality once again. Your eyes flicker to his face, his eyes narrowing as a smirk creeps across his face.

"Yep."

"You were staring."

"No, I wasn't." You say a bit too quickly, making his smirk turn into a grin.

"You sure about that? Positive you were just, checking me out?"

You blink at him, your face rising in heat.

"Yo," Clint snorts, having been also playing the game. "You were perving on Minho?" He drapes an arm over your shoulder, clearly drunk, but the implication making you more flustered.

"What? N-no. No. I wasn't."

"Mhm - I'm sure he doesn't mind." Clint snorts.

"Yeah, I don't mind." Minho agrees, grinning.

"I wasn't!" You attempt to defend yourself. "Ugh, shuck this." You grow irritated, shoving Clint's arm off. "I've had enough of this game."

You say, starting to walk away.

"What?" Minho's smile drops as he shouts after you. "We were just messing around! (Y/N)!" He huffs, dropping his head, watching you walk away. "Shuck's sake." He mumbles under his breath.

Newt, who has been watching the whole thing, stands from his seat and walks over. "Go on."

"What?" Minho asks.

"Go after them. I'll take your spot."

"Dude- why would I-?"

"Shut up, shank - you know you're just as bad."

Minho freezes at this, blinking at Newt.

Well, he's not wrong.

Minho has been listing after you for about just as long as you have him. And Newt has more social awareness skills than the both of you combined.

Minho huffs, but he turns on his heels, following after you, jogging to catch up as you make your way to the Deadheads.

"Yo! Hey! Wait up!" He says, slowing to a walk.

"Why? So, you can bully me again because you thought I was checking you out?" You snarl, mainly out of pure embarrassment.

"...But you were checking me out."

"No-"

"Yes."

"Fine! Whatever!" You throw your hands up in frustration. "I was checking you out! Big shuckin' deal! I can't help it, okay?"

Minho blinks, not expecting the sudden out burst. "Okay."

"Okay? Cool, okay? It's not my fault that you're hot, okay? A-and it's not fair that you look that good! All the time! Like, how is that fair? And how the fuck is your hair always flawless? You run for miles everyday - and somehow, you look like you've escaped Vogue! And your arms... how am I meant to even pretend to cope, you prick?"

Minho blankly stands there. "You done?"

You blink at him. "Yeah, I think so."

Minho slowly nods, stepping towards you as you both stand near the edge of the Deadheads, the drama of the Bonfire a now distant memory as he stands in front of you. He's so close and tall and generally intimidating in a way you shouldn't find attractive.

"So, you like my arms, then?" Minho acts, clearly enjoying the not needed ego boost. All you can do is blankly look at him.

What the hell is happening here?

"Do you?" You nod in response, slowly and unsure. "Okay, you can touch them, if you want?"

Your brain has melted and burnt. "...What?"

Minho huffs, simply grabbing your hand and putting it on his arm. You eyelids flutter, swapping between his face and his arm. "Don't be scared." He murmers.

Slowly, you drag your fingers down the fabric of his sun faded blue button up over his bicep, feeling the muscle and the curves of his left arm, tracing delicate shapes over the material. You move further down, passing the threshold where the fabric stops and the bare skin of his forearm starts.

To your surprise, Minho's breath hitches slightly at the contact. This is the first time you've ever touched him, and even he didn't expect the feeling to send chills down his spine and goosebumps dance on his skin. Your palm contacts with his forearm, rubbing down to his hand, feeling the visible veins as he creeps closer to you.

Your eyes go from his arm to his face, flickering to his lips as he stands directly in front of you. He becomes bold, raising his arm, your hand still loosely around his wrist as he touches your cheek. Slowly, he closes the gap.

Your chest feels like it's about to explode as his lips comnect with yours. He breaks the kiss, trying to figure out your reaction, but when you kiss him again, he takes the hint.

He's slightly taken aback from the passion and the heat, humming against your lips unintentionally as he kisses back. You're letting out the months of tension you've been feeling, your hands coming around his shoulders, feeling the muscles and caressing the tops of his arms as he backs you into a tree.

You gasp, your back hitting the back as he pushes his body against, his hands grasping at your sides. It seems that the kiss gave him all the answers he needed. His hands move down before slipping under your shirt and brushing at your bare skin - almost like he's becoming desperate for direct contact.

Pushing yourself forward, you can already feel Minho through his trousers, the kiss already getting him worked up.

For a second, you genuinely consider just letting him take you then and there when Newt clears his throat.

You both snap in the direction of the blond boy. Minho's chest rises and falls as you look away, using Minho's shoulder to hide yourself from your friend.

"As much as I hate to interrupt - but let's be real, this has been a long time coming, the others want you back at the game because apparently I have klunky aim." Newt shoves his hands in his pockets, casually rocking on his heels.

"Are you serious, right now?" Minho asks as you pant into his shoulder, clearly able to maintain his composure better than you.

"Yeah." Newt responds. "And I don't think Alby will be happy if he finds his favourite Runner fooling around in public."

Minho looks at him, before dropping his head. "Alright, give me a second."

"What? Need a moment to calm down?" Newt teases.

"Shut your shank mouth."

Even you can't help but chuckle at this as Minho starts to grin before sighing and stepping back. "I'll uh, I'll catch you later, maybe?"

A half-smile creeps across your face and you nod, your heart banging against your ribcage. "Yeah - yeah, sounds good."

"Good that." He slowly steps back, smiling at you as he walks over to Newt.

"You good?" Newt snickers at his friend. "Sure you can walk straight so lightheaded? I mean, lack of blood to the brain is a bad thing. Especially when-"

"Shut the shuck up, Newt."

Ahhhh I'm back. Kinda.

Don't bet on it.

But anyway, I've actually written something for the first time in weeks.

Hope y'all enjoy :))

[obriengf]

One, and Only || Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Summary: Stiles makes it his mission to show you that you’re loved. Words: 2.2k Warnings: angst? reader insecurities, ends with hella cuteness Notes: honestly the first thing that came to mind was “FOUR FOR YOU, GLEN COCO”

𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎  𝓋𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You didn’t think anyone would notice; but he did.

It wasn’t hard when the smile that he was so infatuated with had faltered, and the eyes that had effortlessly become his favourite colour had lost their vibrancy with haste. He saw the way you would sink back as one of Beacon High’s students barged into classrooms with faltering feathered wings that left behind fuzzy trails, and a trolley of assorted gifts ready to capture the hearts of your luckiest fellow peers. It was simply as if you would burn if gotten too close to the red heart decorations that served as a constant reminder that Valentines Day was within arms reach.

You were a different person during this time of year, and Stiles Stilinski couldn’t understand why your light dimmed so easily from some silly holiday that was more of a passing phase. 

With his shoulder leaning so nonchalantly against the cool metal of his locker, Stiles Stilinski crossed his arms, whisky gaze stuck on your figure down the hall. You were walking toward your own locker as he waited for his plan to take heed - witnessing your bypassing and cringing of some Sophomore’s poorly written ballad to his boyfriend. He didn’t know just how strongly it all weighed on your mind, but he could sense it, and it made his chest ache with pitiful sorrow.

Valentines wasn’t something that you wanted to dislike so much, but it was difficult when you couldn’t help but consider the worst. You were never given the chance to celebrate such occasion for bringing people together, never shown just how gratifying sharing your heart could be - the thoughts were strong and they were screaming at the top of their lungs that maybe you just weren’t desirable enough. Maybe you weren’t as attractive as the people that surround you, or as interesting to make company with. Maybe your passions were overbearing and your voice had rung too loud. Maybe you were bound with too much energy and the world just wanted to settle down. Maybe, you were destined to be alone, and that was okay. Until you decided that maybe you didn’t want it to be okay.

You bit your lip as you turned you back to the commotion; the pain was a reminder to not fall victim to such fantasy. You could dream and you could wish, but reality was harsh and it never ceased to show you that maybe you just weren’t cut out for being someone’s love. At least not now. Even though you craved the attention and utterly yearned for reminders that you were somebody else’s idea of complete endearment.

So, you took a deep breath and chose to wear a mask of indifference. Pretending that your chest didn’t pang with hurt and that you weren’t finding it hard to breathe. You continued to filter through the halls and try not to watch those who were lucky enough to experience the beautiful uneasiness of butterflies that you so secretly craved. It will be over soon, you reminded yourself with utter consistence.

That was, until your locker was in view, and something looked quite evidently different.

The shade of red that you saw was dreamlike - so delicate and velvety, as if one touch and it’s gentle tone would fall a part in your hold. It was beautiful as it sat against the harshness of the grey metal door - like a poetic metaphor that somebody has surely penned by now - with a thick green stem placed through the slotted vent. A single rose was not what you expected, but it made you smile, wide, and even more so as you picked up the small folded place card that was taped up beside it. Your name was scribbled in messy cursive, and you couldn’t hold back the exhaled giggle that had sat with anticipation.

Stiles had straightened his posture now as he watched you with bated breath. The moment you shone a smile, his heart soared and began to thump against the caging of his chest with the utmost adoration - he had given you happiness, and it was the best feeling in the world. 

“What does it say?” A voice sounded beside him, prompting the boy to break his focus. He turned to face Scott and a knowing smirk. Stiles hummed, proving that he didn’t hear a word of what his friend had asked, too lost in his thoughts, and it made the other boy chuckle, “The note? What did you write?”

Stiles’ tone was quiet as he veered his eyeline back to your blushing cheeks and that damn sparkle in your eyes that he didn’t realise he missed, “That they have a beautiful smile.” 

“Such the romantic.” Scott teased, swiftly managing to dodge the propelling whack that Stiles aimed toward his chest. Not that Stiles really minded the playful jab from his best friend; he would do anything to see the light that made you shine, the glow that he admired so much. It’s what usually comes with a silly high school crush, afterall. 

You felt honoured to receive something so sweet, even though your mind did briefly wonder to the notion that your peers sought out an amusing outlet by playing a prank on you. It was hard to understand why someone would leave such a pretty flower for such a self-perceived plain you, with a smile that you hardly found of any beauty. 

Your worries, however, were torn down as you entered your economics class and were met by a stunning crown of petals as another singular red rose was placed upon your desk. The cursive handwriting was the same and the messiness made you chuckle as you opened the new card, eyes widening and lips parting softly at the sentiment inside -

I think you’re beautiful, as well. 

You were too engrossed to notice how you were being observed, the sun catching two baby brown eyes as they flittered over your form and took such pride from the happiness you found. A lazy smile curled at his lips, chin perched comfortably in his propped up hand as you began to blush, bashful at the possibility that someone noticed you let alone thought so kindly of you.

Coach Finstock’s voice broke you from your running mind, returning you to a reality crowded within a fourth period classroom and something about opening your textbook to chapter eleven. You took contentment as you laid the rose down gently along the edge of your desk, your fingertip so elegantly running over the soft petals throughout the entire hour.

By the time the last bell of the day had rung, you were entering the school parking lot with five roses cradled within your arm, held close to your chest as you strived to protect them. Your day had continued to be full of surprises as you were approached during study break in the Library, a delivery by the resident Valentines gift-giver and his still shedding wings, as another rose was presented to you. Soon to be followed by two more that fell out of your locker as you were changing over your books - and for a second, you wondered how the perpetrator got in there in the first place - but it dissipated quickly as you grew warm from your new gifts. 

Your footsteps halted over the tarmac, jaw dropping slightly before you managed a whisper under your breath, “This can’t be real.” Not that you should be so astonished by now, it really isn’t nothing new, but the more you consider what today has brought then the more you start to fall back into the fantasy of someone someday loving you. Your windscreen wiper held down another rose, and another note. You mentally planned to pin these short yet heartwarming forms of literature on the wall of your bedroom later this evening, so that you can look over them everyday, and remind yourself that there is hope. Your hand was slightly trembling, a concoction of anxiety and excitement begging to take control, as you reached for the card and flicked it open.

Just seeing the way these roses have made you happy, has made my day.. week.. year... decade? You deserve every single one and more. 

It was a hasty move as you brought your thumb up to wipe the tear that fell through your lashes, an expression of gratitude and a growing heart. You had never faced such kindness, such willingness to see you happy, such displays of affection that really tugged at the thumping muscle in your chest. You didn’t have a clue on who would be leaving these for you to find - and a part of you was okay if you never found out. Just knowing that they are out there, that they can truly see you, was more than enough. .

Fingers tapped with incoordination against the battered steering wheel. They would often flex toward the door handle, but slip back at the last minute, nervousness brewing with every second passing. Your front door was in view, and your car was in the driveway, so you hadn’t left for school yet. That’s good, that means he still has time. He can finish off his plan. He just need to get out of the damn Jeep first.

Stiles eventually sighed loudly before rubbing his hands together, an attempt to pump himself full of encouragement. It was now or never as he forced himself to slip from the vehicle, one occupied hand immediately held behind his back. Every step was forcing his heart to beat louder, the sound of blood rushing was now echoing in his ears. He started to contemplate whether you would be disappointed to see him - the easily excited ADD kid that talks too loud wherever he goes. On the other hand, he isn’t as bad as he used to be, Stiles thought as his lips pursed and head tilted to the side, brows raising. But your disapproval was still a possibility and it provoked his stomach to churn. 

He bit his lip, head shaking, as soon as he reached your door. Your voice was muffled beyond the white wood as it was projected from somewhere further inside. Stiles’ leg bounced. After a few hushed words of motivation, his knuckles sounded a knock, instinctively taking a step back as the door was approached from the other side. 

You both were speechless. 

Stiles thought that you were even prettier up close. Especially with your wide eyes and soft lips that were lifting into a confused smile. It baffled him why you hadn’t been snatched up by someone already. 

And you were ever surprised to see the Stiles Stilinski standing at your door, with such an adorable dumbfounded expression. You were so captivated by his brown bambi eyes that you didn’t even hear yourself say his name, until he broke from whatever captivation he held, his throat instantly clearing.

“Hmph, yeah, right... hey Y/N...” He started, voice chuckling with shy nervous energy as he began to smile. He didn’t continue until you smiled back, your grin accompanied by a warm peachy hue that pinched at your cheeks instantly. “I-I... I wanted to give you these, it’s the rest of the bouquet... so you have a dozen. The perfect bouquet of roses.” The hand behind his back had fallen into view, another six deep red stems of roses making you gasp lightly. 

You took them from his hold, your fingers brushing momentarily and you swore that the skin contact alone sent hundreds of goosebumps up your arm. 

Stiles cleared his throat, his voice quiet and raspy, “They say that a dozen roses mean something... that it’s like a way of asking someone to be yours.” Your head fell into a nod, your gaze absolutely fixated on the gorgeous nervous boy in front of you.

You smiled wider, “And what is it your way of saying?” 

“That I like you. A lot, actually.” He was quick to answer as his arm was thrown behind his head, scratching at his neck. He chuckled again and the sound made your heart soar. “And Happy Valentines Day. You deserve one, and you deserve plenty more. I just... I hope that this is the first of many great ones for you.”

You willed yourself to hold back tears - the last thing you want is to cry in front of the weird cute boy that has made you feel absolutely amazing. 

With a tentative step forward, you leaned up on the tips of your toes, a chaste yet meaningful kiss pressed over Stiles’ speckled cheek. You hummed, “Thank you, Stiles. You have no idea what all of this means to me. How can I make it up to you?”

 “Let me drive you to school, and we can start from there?” You could hear the hopefulness in his tone and how his gaze grew in anticipation. You nodded, teeth sunken into your bottom lip, and that sparkle finally returning to your eyes.

You never would have guessed that your first Valentines Day would be the start of what would be the best years of your life.

[missuswalker]

Kyle dating hc's pleaaaaase 🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️

meow meow meow 🤭🤭

relationship headcannons || kyle broflovski x fem reader

✮ summary: kyle as your boyfreind ✮ warnings: i was gonna do what i did for the clyde one but changed my mind, so nsfw content, reminder that characters are aged up (i'm too much of a kyle girl to pass up the oppurtunity)

sfw

before ya'll started dating he did your homework for you as a rizz tactic

he thought it would make you want him

turns out you wanted him even before he started doing your homework, so he starts making you do it yourself

but kyle would do anything for you, so if you ask him with that pretty face of yours, he'll do it anyways

ya'll had a long "are we dating are we not phase"

he's been screwed over so many times that he wanted to make sure you were the one

you definitely were

after much convincing from stan and a couple hundred "no balls, you wont"s from cartman, kyle finally asks to be his gee-eff (girlfriend)

over text in your instagram dms

LOOK, HE WAS TOO NERVOUS TO DO IT IN PERSON

he did it very romantically though

loooooooong paragraph about how much he likes you and wants you to be all his

ends it with "And I know you piss me off sometimes, but I think I could really make us work."

as SOON as you say yes

"Come over. You have my address."

anyways, moving on, he acts like he thinks pet names are cringe, but he can't help but call you that goody goody shit like "angel"

do you hear purring? sorry

anyways, he spoils you to death, like what was in my love language hcs

"oh wow that's so cute" "what color do you want it in" "kyle 😟"

loooves when you wear his boxer shorts around his house, he thinks he's THE man when you do

his mom likes to talk to him about embarrassing things in front of you to mess with him

"hi boobala, your spiderman underwear is fresh out of the dryer 🥰" "ma, that's ikes, get out 😡😡😡😨😰"

when you guys cuddle, he puts his hand up your shirt and rubs your back

he has cold ass hands though

kisses the top of your head all the time

he's like 6'2 so if you're shorter than him he's all like "aww elf 😻😻" when in reality he's just tall

nsfw

WOOF WOOF WOOF AWOOOOO

damn

first time he was suuuuuper sweet and gentle

after that he puts his temper into it

its like theres an earth quake from the bed rocking

ike ain't a snitch though 🤐

he is rough, hoowee

grunts, huffs, groans

all the good shit

probably says some good girl shit at some point

if he's actually upset, he rather you take control

lets you do whatever you want and whimpers

he whines yall

but if cartman pissed him off, its not the same

has you in doggy style and goes WILD

he don't care if you're screaming

yeah he does, when he's finished he STRESSES about sheila

"dude, you were fucking rabid, i'm so fucked 😰😰"

sheila side eyes him at breakfast but doesn't say anything

makes gerald give him the talk

gerald makes randy give him the talk

randy informs him of new positions

someone on wattpad said "jew in the streets, freak in the sheets"

[aquatint-101]

Random kataang headcanons

Awkward early relationship Kataang dating headcanons: Okay so the first big thing Aang does after the war is delivering ceasefire messages from the Fire Nation while Katara goes home to rebuild, and they exchange SO MANY LETTERS Their letters are so long with so many crossed out parts because they're trying to be romantic but all they end up doing is rambling about their daily lives Aang always signs his letters "yours" and Katara signs hers "with love" (Aang actually squealed when he got his first letter from her) Aang will get her ingredients for medicines she wants to try making that the SWT doesn't have and this one time he sends her a watercolor paint set from the Fire Nation and Katara is In Love Katara sends back lots of handmade stuff, and once she gets the hang of using her paint set she starts making cute little pictures of stuff she sees When they do reunite they spend most of their time in the SWT, so their PDA isn't ridiculous but expect lots of tight hugs they're suddenly too shy to give The first time Aang wears a parka he looks so cute Katara feels her heart is going to explode They do that thing where they're holding hands and looking away from each other while blushing furiously Katara kind of acts like she always has (compliments, hugs, cheek kisses) but when Aang starts mimicking that behavior Katara.exe stops working They are so shy that Sokka dies from secondhand cringe Speaking of Sokka, he will try to assert his dominance as Katara's older brother, like sitting between them when they're making heart eyes at each other Katara actually starts calling Aang "sweetie" out of spite just to make Sokka feel awkward, and Aang catches on because he also wants to make Sokka suffer, and it takes years for it to develop into an actual nickname they use When Katara gets into charcoal she tries drawing Aang but she gets so fed up with his intricate tattoos that she literally starts crying oh god Aang is in love with her and knows it but he's too scared of saying it so he'll keep whistling I love you in an Air Nomad whistle code, and he starts screaming internally when Katara repeats it without knowing what it means You would not look at these two goobers on a date and think that they'd kill and die for each other The first time they try making out it doesn't work because they're smiling so much A lot of the things they used to do casually, like training together or sparring or even just cuddling, become a little awkward but they grow out of it and become more comfortable with each other Aang tries to flirt, it Does Not Work, Katara tries to flirt, which somehow goes even worse because she takes advice from Suki and Mai This phase passes, like all trying times But yeah Aang and Katara from ages 13/14 to 15/16 are just two babies who love each other so much and are trying to show it but have no clue how

[homunculus-argument]

Why do you constantly describe yourself like you’re the grossest, weirdest looking human being on the planet?

You’re always (very nonchalantly) talking about how ugly you are and… I’ve never seen your face ofc but I highly doubt you’re as weird looking as you think you are. I’m a bit concerned for you.

When my self-esteem was at its lowest I was CONVINCED that I looked absolutely awful. I felt that my features were weird and uneven. That I looked like someone who can’t draw tried to draw a person rather than an actual person. But now that I’ve gotten older and had therapy and my self-esteem isn’t so low anymore, I realize that I look normal. Perfectly normal. I may not be the most attractive person but I’m definitely not ugly and my face definitely isn’t mangled and gross. It’s just a regular face. But a few years ago, I absolutely swore that it wasn’t. It’s as if my mental state had been warping my vision.

So when you constantly talk about how ugly you are I can’t help but feel a little skeptical. You’re a human being, not a goblin. But you definitely describe yourself as if you look like a goblin. I’m willing to bet that you don’t.

I'm actually much happier now with how I look than I was when I was younger and tried so hard to be pretty. I remember being 21 and legit crying because I was so convinced that I'm too old to find anyone again and too ugly that anyone would settle for me. When I was in my Repression Phase, I could not stand wearing jeans because those are Men's Clothes and I was so convinced that I have to perform some sort of absolute over-the-top hyperfeminine presentation to be acceptable. I'm afab and looked up trans womens' passing advice because I was so sure that I'm not feminine enough.

I don't look anything like that these days, and I don't feel like that either. My life is completely different, I have friends who adore me and a partner who loves me, and I'm fine with the way I look. Over the past year I went from wearing understated grey sweaters and the plainest clothes possible into wearing skinny jeans, dyed hair and getting three facial piercings because I thought it would just be insanely funny to have a full-blown midlife crisis emo phase about turning 30. I look cringe on purpose for fun.

There's a world of difference between thinking "I am an ugly and wretched little creature and there's nothing I can do to make it stop", and "I am an ugly and wretched little creature and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

[weepinwriter]

ZHENYA ‘PSIKH’ BOGDANOV

(pardon the terrible lighting 😔)

Codename : Nyx, named after the primordial greek goddess of the night (yeah it's a feminine name, but does Zhenya give a damn? Hell no)

Nickname : His friends and family members know him simply as Zhen, otherwise in the underworld he is better known as Psikh Bogdanov, or the madman as some prefer to call him for simplicity

[ 20 || 6'1" || cis-male || demisexual || in a relationship with Ash and Rin ]

Appearance : Short midnight black hair, and emerald green eyes

His stats

(dudes here ready to go full on doomslayer on his enemies)

Some facts about him:

~ He likes smoking, and that too the best quality cigars

~ As a child Zhenya wanted to be a writer, maybe even a journalist. He liked journaling his days as a kid, writing small stories and frequently narrating details of his day with his father, uncle and Ash before the incident with his dad, following which he discontinued writing indefinitely. He never touched his little journal after that.

~ Once had a bucket list containing all the things he wanted to do as a kid. These included bungee jumping, going to the seven wonders of the world and hell, even riding an ostrich (overall he just wanted to do every crazy thing one can possibly do). One of the wishes in this list included going to Disneyland with his dad. Unfortunately it never happened and he refused to ever go there

~ is very fond of daffodils. Ash regularly buys daffodils to be put in a vase in the middle of the room where he can see them

~ he is very fond of Donna tartt's books, especially the secret history

~ during his (cringe) puberty phase, when emotions and hormones run high and teenagers become the biggest menaces alive, Zhenya had the misfortune of stumbling upon Twilight. Following that fateful encounter he became a hardcore Twilight fan, especially as a firm member Team Jacob. He even went as far as to get a wolf tattoo and got his ears pierced as a form of his teenage rebellion. Thankfully he got over his cringe phase quickly, and now everytime he thinks about it he can't help but feel embarrassed to the core. (I can say this with a guarantee that Rin tries to pull his leg every once in a while by mentioning his horrific past, just for the sake of seeing Zhenya blush furiously.)

~ also likes reading books and historical research papers on medieval punishments and torture methods, for science ofcourse he says

~ is a pretty decent cook

~ although he can only cook dishes related to chicken, Zhenya is experienced enough to debone a raw chicken blindfolded holding some of the sharpest knives ever. The countless scars on his hands and arms are a testament of his perseverance. Apparently he's ‘practising’...

~ “a balanced diet is very important.” also him, proceeds to carefully remove all the peas from his food

~ has never lost a single match of rock-paper-scissors, even against Rin. However, one cannot say the same for his terrible luck and history with UNO. My guy here can get almost all the power cards at the beginning of the game, yet somehow always manages to lose them all and be defeated brutally. It has come to the point some believe he's intentionally losing, he's not.

~ likes watching and listening to true crime podcasts

~ Zhenya has a very bad habit of smiling whenever he's lying, making it impossible for anyone to figure out when he's lying or not (except those close to him who can see the discrepancies between his real and fake smiles)

~ can hold his liquor very well. The most he can go with, is 23 shots, which is his highest record so far, until he eventually passes and wakes up to the absolute worst hangover of his life

~ will call you a moron if you were to ask him the classic “would you still love me if I was a worm?” but still answer with a yes

~ sorry no Pixie cameo this time 😔, on another note, Zhenya actually adopted Pixie from the streets when he accidentally stepped on her on his way home. Feeling guilty he brought her home and the kitten that was barely a month old became a part of his small family. Now refuses to let anyone even touch her without his permission, talk about being overprotective

MIKHAIL 'MICKI' VICTOROVICH LANG

(this is @headdaze's MC, btw all comments are made by them-)

Codename : Tisiphone (he’d probably get a kick out of the nicknames he could make– like he picks up the phone and goes “hello? This is tisiphone answeirng the phone at avengers speed-” OR EVEN BETTER “hello? Tis me, tisiphone–”)

Nickname : His close ones simply call him, Angel, meanwhile the rest just go along with Micki

[ 20 || 5'5" || agender, he/they || demisexual || working on getting Ash, will work on Rin (when they meet each other as adults which they haven’t yet LOLOLOL)]

Appearance : Slightly long brown hair, with grayish, green blue eyes

Some facts about them

~ after destroying a microwave, ruining a meal, burning a few items, and other travesties, micki resigned himself to simple dishes… no five star courses (later on Zhenya takes it upon himself to cook for Mikhail, after keeping him 6feet away from the kitchen ofcourse)

~ loves nothing more than a good book and as such gets heavily irritated when something good disappoints them

~ very pro-healthy food but still eats unhealthy

~ vision is ABSOLUTE SHIT, wears either ridiculously thick glasses or contacts

~ usually sweet but can have a scary side too (people like to call him the wolf in sheep’s clothing)

~ his dream is to go around the world, eat the things he wants, and buy the things he wants without feeling guilty about spending money

~ a MASSIVE penny pincher

~ “ZHEN CAN YOU PLEASE STOP RUINIG YOUR LUNGS WITH THOSE FUCKING BEAUTIFUL CIGARS” “No.”

~ comfy > fashion, the man is not going to strut outside on a winter day in an outfit even if he looks good in it because if it gets him a cold it is GAME OVER

~ literally cannot stay up for the life of them, alwAYS gets irritable when sleepy so prefers to get their hours of sleep in

(why is a majority of this basically just me)

IF : VENDETTA BY @vendetta-if

[amazzwon]

WHAT IS... HOME?

❜ ─ ─ ❛ lee heeseung x fem! reader

╰┈➤ ❝ [angst, non-idol au, one-sided love, friends to strangers]

╰┈➤ ❝ [0.8k words]

╰┈➤ ❝ [cherry blossom; lana del rey]

I was six feet under my thoughts as waited for her by "The Stone Cold" ice cream shop. As the glass entrance opened with customers pushing through, a waft of sweet air contrasted with the evening air. The grey scarf cloaking my neck itched and tickled me; it was a cold November. My breaths turned foggy and my nose dusted crimson. 

The cold was as harsh as the reality.

It had been a week since I revealed my truth to her. 

"If my name was a word then you are the meaning to it".

That's what I had said, my true being, my pure love, my final chance to prove to her; to tell her that I, Lee Heeseung, am in love with her.

"I-If you will have me," My voice had wobbled, "Meet me in front of our favourite spot at 8 pm?". 

I cringed at the memory. Had I sounded more mature, more manly, maybe then she would have given her answer at that moment.

A week passed but my hope did not. 

The first time, it did phase me... a lot. I remember being drenched in my sorrow and overflowing eyes that would not open (I changed pillow covers twice that day).

The second time, the ice cream shop owner offered me a free scoop (that melted in my hand cause I was too in my head). 

The third time, I took interest in the pebbles by the road and kicked them woefully; but there had been times when my head played games with me, begging me to look up to meet her eyes but she wasn't even there. 

The fourth time, I gazed at the clouds.

The fifth time, my heart began playing tricks on me, persuading me to go to her apartment complex; but I was a lover, not a serial killer.

The sixth time, I can't even remember anymore...

The neon pink, "The Stone Cold", sign flickered in contrast to the golden gleaming lamp posts. It looked ugly. The contrast, I meant. Coincidentally, so did my thoughts. The crowd brushed past me, rushing as if they had somewhere to be; that thought made me jealous.

Would she consider me to be a place worth running towards?

Time was ticking; the rush hour stalled. My feet prickled; the freezing temperature swept past me. I stood still; an empty vessel with heartbroken thoughts. The ice cream shop's sign glitched shut, and then the old man (the owner) walked out offering a sad smile at the sad case of a man in front of him. I could hear the man wobbling out of the scene but, my genius envisioned her footsteps approaching me. 

There you have it, another day spent on the woman so gorgeous, she turned me ugly with glum hope. My mind tugged me to text her, just one last time. I decided against it.

The buses continued their usual routes. It was a cheap option instead I chose to take me and my pathetic heart for a walk. I shouldn't have; I could have easily saved myself from the nightmares, the embarrassment, my dignity! Yet I watched with my chapped lips parted and eyes widened. She had her arm looped with another man. My eyes flitted from her to her man. Her man? ugh, that word itself made my soul churn.

He whispered something in her ear and she laughed as if she had no care in the world. How brutal could she be! They stood near the signal waiting to cross the road... so she did have a place to rush towards but couldn't she at least stop by to reject me?

Oh no, it was worse. I was the other man... 

I collected the few shards of my heart and I turned around with heavy eyes. Walking briskly, I couldn't gaze straight, too stunned to look up anymore. At least, I had memorised the path home. I decided that home was my place to be... but no.

As soon as I thought of home, she flashed across my mind. Her smile, her warmth; she was my sunlight and she was my shade. My walking speed turned obsolete and my vision was hazy. I should have known better than to have such a tremendous amount of longing, I could have spared it to face the world.

Maybe she saw it. She noticed my blind faith, she noticed my unfortunate state of being under her spell and left me to my thoughts. They weren't any better.

I approached my home... oh god, I want to find another word to call the place I rest... 

my hand shoved in my pocket to fish out my keys

a warm place... 

I finally felt the cold metal ring and pinched the correct key.

a place to laugh...

I tried to connect it to the keyhole but I missed

a place where I could love...

 I missed again

a place... where I would stop missing her

The first tear fell before I could even enter my house; the place as cold as November. 

[http-paprika]

Bite the Hand / Phillip Grave

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⋆★⋆ part one - strangers ⋆★⋆ masterlist ⋆★⋆ next ⋆★⋆

summery the arrival of the shadow company and a request from the commander, phillip graves, causes her to question where her future lies.

werewolf!au / pairing phillip graves x female!reader / callsign frost / wc 2,036 / warning brief mentions of blood

notes it's finally here ladies and gents, the awaited phillip graves werewolf series. there'll be no use of y/n in the story, the reader is referred to as frost or lieutenant. the taglist is still open, so if you'd like to be added to it, let me know. and without further ado, enjoy the first chapter.

Iron. Sweat. Rust. Gunpowder. Blood. Lots of blood.

It coated the inside of her mouth as she bit down hard, slamming open a door trying to get out. Anywhere but inside the stuffy base that’s air was stale and thick with intrusion from the private military company that had seemingly infiltrated it. There’d been no warning, no announcement, they’d just arrived and word began to spread among her task force as to why they were there. Conflicting messages that left her dizzy and made her chest tighten with anxiety. If Frost’d been smart, she would have retreated into the safety of her room. But she was one anxious outburst away from shifting, and that would cause more troubles for her.

Outside was the best option, the base bordered a rocky pass of mountains; were she to phase unexpectedly, retreating into the wild was easy. There she could wait until the pain was bearable enough to phase back, maybe by then the Shadow Company would’ve left. She could suffer through whatever punishment her commanding officer would give for her disappearance. Frost just needed to get away. But even in the cold air, she couldn’t find solace from the scent. It clung like a parasite in her nostrils which flared as she turned in the direction, facing the wind.

Closing her eyes, she leaned against a stone wall, rubbing out the creases in her forehead. It was foolish to think she could avoid her own kind for the rest of her life, especially when she’d joined a career that tended to reek of werewolves. But it had never been to this degree, there were so many around the base now, so many conflicting scents that made her stomach tight with nausea. And what bothered her more was scent was the only way of detecting them, they truly were like shadows. They made little to no noise and lurked, shifting in and out of the darkness like a void.

Shifting again, her senses detect and alert her to light, slow steps approaching. With the wind against her, there wasn’t a scent so she fully turned, straightening her shoulders and growing alert to find who was approaching her. Quickly her eyes adjusted in the darkness and fell upon the commander of the Shadow Company, Phillip Graves.

“Sorry to startle ya, Lieutenant. I mean no harm.” The man put up his hands, trying to make himself less intimidating, but that was impossible with the rumors that surrounded him. Anyone who managed to lead a militant pack of werewolves naturally conjured fear. Especially to someone like her who didn’t belong to a pack or family line.

“Is there something I can do for you?” She knew she was easy prey, the runt of her father’s children. But she couldn’t imagine what interest Commander Graves would have in her. The direction of the wind changed, she could pick up his scent now, swallowing hard as she inhaled the smell of pine needs, the sweat on his skin, and an unfamiliar scent that clung to all the soldiers she’d passed by from the Shadow Company.

“No need to be so stiff Lieutenant. I’m just gettin’ a breath of fresh air. The downside of our lycanthropy.” Graves said, keeping his posture casual and unguarded, attempting to ease the tension. She cringed at his statement but nodded in agreement. There was a curiosity about the man who stood in front of her, who’d successfully built a militant company from the ground up, which had an impressive reputation. He clicked his tongue, kicking his feet into the dust before looking back up at her. “I’m curious to know something, Lieutenant, if I may ask?”

“Of course sir.” Hesitantly she responded, still standing alert even though he was showing himself to be not, at least to her, a threat.

“I’ve seen your record, it’s quite impressive.” Graves said watching as she uncomfortably shifted at the knowledge. “But I must admit, I’m intrigued by the fact that there seems to be no record of you ever shifting, to any degree, on the field. Most soldiers that are like us, hone the ability to partially phase. But you don’t seem to at all, if it weren’t for your smell, I would’ve never suspected you were a werewolf.”

“I have my reasons.” She all but snapped, recoiling quickly. Even if she didn’t like his questions or pressing, he was a higher-ranking soldier and all too friendly with her commanding officer. It was unwise for her to talk back to him in that tone.

To her relief, he didn’t seem to care. “I’m sure you do. There’d be a problem on our hands if you didn’t have a reason.” The sentence ended with a light chuckle, but she continued to frown at him, furrowing her brows. “Do I make you uncomfortable, Lieutenant?”

“Why does it matter?”

“It matters because I was hoping to offer you a place with the Shadow Company. You’ve got clear potential, anyone can see that. The officers here can see that. But you’d be better suited with your own, there’d be no reason to hide, no reason to keep taking the suppressants the military insists you take, and maybe you’d find some pride in your phasing and kind.” Graves finished, folding his arms and narrowing his gaze. “We both know the chances of getting further than your current rank are low. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life like this? Bein the inferior?”

“I’m not interested, Commander Graves. I’m fine where I am.” She knew his statement was true, very few of her kind made it past her rank. The rest were snuffed out like an old match that no longer served a purpose.

“If you ever change your mind,” His voice was cool, the demeanor shifting subtly enough to kick her body back into high alert. “I’m always recruiting.”

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The ringing in her ears had grown painfully loud, like a drill in her head as Frost gasped for air, panting like a rabid dog as she turned her radio on, hoping it hadn’t been destroyed in the chaos and rubble that’d pinned her down. Her instincts begged her to shift, to defend herself from more harm. But she ignored the pain in her legs, forcing herself to speak into the radio for help. “Delta 0-2 to operator, requesting backup and exfil for my team.”

The intel had been rotten, leading them into a dog fight against the enemy who’d blown their entire facility while her team had swept through. In the chaos, most of the radios had gone down, she’d been separated from team, and encased from the torso down in rubble, shrapnel barely missing her organs. She prayed silently that her message would go through, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she waited for a response.

The radio cracked to life, the operator speaking to her through the static. “Operator to Delta 0-2, the Shadow Company is following in on your location, stand by for evacuation.” The operator told her before the radio went dead.

The gun in her hand sat like a useless prop, she was defenseless and separated from her team. Through the ringing, she could hear their gunfire in the distance, and beyond that, the distinct piercing sound of howls. Closing her eyes, Frost tried to focus on her breathing, on keeping some sense of calm to not shift. But the closer the Shadow Company got, the harder it was, she could smell the adrenaline, the excitement in their voices, the thrill of a hunt and mission. Like a dog offered a bone.

She forced her eyes open as that same pine needle scent filled her senses, blocking out all the gunpowder and gore. And as much as she hated to admit it, Commander Graves’ arrival was a sweet relief.

“Hello Lieutenant, fancy meetin’ you here.” Frost rolls her eyes at the man and his Texas drawl. “You look like you could use some assistance.”

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” She asks as Graves whistles out. Almost immediately two Shadows appear on either side, making quick work to clear away the rubble. In awe, she watched, noticing the smallest shift in their appearance and structure. They by no means looked like the werewolf appearance she was used to, but they looked so human despite the oddities. It reminded her of her father, and his ability to phase, something she’d never been able to achieve despite him trying to force it upon her.

Frost shuddered as the last of it was removed from her legs, leaving the limbs numb and limp as she attempted to pull herself up. Despite the supernatural healing lycanthropy provided, Frost found herself back on the rough ground.

“Let me help you,” Graves says, offering his arm for support. He watched her hesitate, a grin crossing his face. “Worried I’ll bite?”

"Something like that.” But she knew better than to act stubborn in a time like that, so she hoisted herself to her feet with his arm, hand clasped around his gloved one. Being so close to him, and in the bright daylight, she got a better image of his face, the sandy brown hair and light stubble, blue eyes as deep as the sea, and a distinct scar on his face that resembled clawing. There was a story behind it, she was sure, the type of story most people would shy away from.

He stops behind a wall, listening to the chaos over the radio, surveying the area beyond. A frown slipped over his face. “Vance, Dipaolo, exfil’s getting rerouted north, there’s too much noise on these damn comms to get a clear message through, find Oz, spread the word to our men and the Marines.”

“Yup-yup.” The two soldiers disappeared quickly, leaving the two alone, and despite all the outer noise, the sound of her pounding heart in her battered ribs. She watched as they darted away like black spots in her vision before turning back to look at Graves.

“I will say, Commander, I’m impressed by your men. They’re making quick work of cleaning up my team’s mess.” She says, turning her attention to keeping herself steady, even with his arm securely wrapped around her shoulders, keeping her standing. Frost realized if it hadn’t been for the Shadow Company at the ready to sweep in and help, she would’ve been a deer in headlights in the position she’d been trapped in.

“That sounds like you’re reconsidering my prior offer, Lieutenant.” There’s a smug look on his face that she scowls back at. “You’d be able to test your limits.”

The Marines had been her escape, freedom, and a chance to see a new world. It had shaped her into the person she was, and its scars had covered the ones left by her father. But the offer was tempting, like forbidden fruit, a chance to free herself from the restrictions put in place by the government. A chance to see what she was capable of, with no person or thing to hold her back. A chance to find a world where she belonged. But was she willing to take the risk? To dive into the unknown with no return?

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“If you decide that the Marines aren’t worth your time anymore,” Graves pulls the patch off his shoulder while they sit in the dim interior of the black hawk, handing it over to her. “Give me a call.” Frost took a good look at the patch, tracing the embroidered motto with her thumb. “I don’t know if you’re being foolish or not, trying to convince me to join. For all you know, I could wreck your plans.” “Well, I’ve always been a bit of a gambler, Lieutenant. I enjoy a risk.” He chuckles, a sense of pride in his voice and a gleam in his eyes. Frost paused, realizing the dangers and uncharted territories Phillip Graves would lead her into. Gambling had never been her game, but there was always a chance at a winning hand.

taglist @delusionally-loveless-by-choice @bacon-sandwich-of-dionysus