#though I think they should do that that would be funny

[seravphs]

battle of wills

Sae wants to act funny, but he doesn’t know you’re about to act hilarious.

wc — 2.7k

tags — romantic mind games, thinking of Sae like a predator that plays with his food, jealousy, possessiveness

“I don’t care who you fuck,” he says with a shrug. “We’re not dating.” 

Your hands still on the collar of his shirt that you’re smoothing down. It’s ten minutes before your dinner reservation, which means you’re going to be late, but you know the maître d' so it should be fine. It would be, if Sae didn’t insist on opening his fat mouth once a week to try to break your heart so he can prove to himself that he’s not invested. 

He’s not fooling anyone. You know you have him, hook, line, and sinker. When you made that joke about getting Kaiser’s number, it was just a joke. You didn’t even say you wanted to sleep with him! Sae came up with that implication all by himself. 

You have three options and only a few seconds to decide. Sweat beads on your forehead. You can practically see the timer run out, like an imaginary game with a big fat red buzzer letting you know you failed.

You can: 

a) say “we’re not dating?” in a whiny little broken voice and make it obvious you liked Sae more than he liked you 

b) sit in silence and make it awkward like you are currently doing 

c) fuck around and find out

So you only have one option, really. You’re not a coward, so it can’t be b, and you’d rather choke on your fancy steak tonight and die then ever let a man think he played you and got away with it. 

“Cool,” you say. “I’ll let Kaiser know he has your permission.” 

You’re joking, but you don’t think he is. 

“Cool,” Sae replies, but he’s so disinterested that you think he didn’t even hear the last half of your sentence. 

Dinner is great even though Sae is an asshole because he somehow still makes it fun to be with him. Your friends all ask you why you want him. They don’t see what you see; they think you’re just after the football fame, the fortune, the model like beauty. 

You’re a little more twisted than that. 

When you press your patent heel up against Sae’s calf, he doesn’t even flinch. He takes a long, slow draught of water - because he doesn’t drink alcohol, which is deliriously sexy to you for some reason - and raises an eyebrow at you. Everything about him is cool and collected, even when you inch higher and higher until you’re practically right between his legs. 

His hand slips under the table, grabs your ankle, and repositions it on his lap. He doesn’t spare a thought for how your dirty shoes are on his nice slacks. When you try to retract your foot because this is dangerous, this is not what you expected, his hand locks you in place. 

He holds your eye across the table. You wanted this, his eye contact says. Be good and take it. 

Sae is hard to read. 

He can be so apathetic, so indifferent to your words, and then draw warm, lazy circles on your pulse with his thumb. He looks mildly amused when your brain short circuits in the middle of your sentence, every neuron redirected to the feeling of his hand on your ankle, soaking in heat from his palm. 

You want to pull him apart and see what makes him tick. For you, love is almost like dissection. You want to be able to know him so intimately no one else will ever be able to say they come close. 

Although he apparently doesn’t feel the same about you. 

Knowing Sae is a rare privilege all in itself. You thought you were content. When you first met him, that’s all it was: fun. You liked pulling him apart and putting him back together, figuring out which parts of Sae were real and which were a front. But now, after a few months, you’re hooked. It’s become more than a game. It’s an addiction. 

The more he rejects you, the more you want him. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been this pathetic in your life. You’ve never chased anyone the way you’ve done for him. 

It’s killing you to think about the numbers he’s done on your reputation. Your friends already think you’re whipped. 

You’re afraid to admit they’re right, and that’s the real reason you’re upset about what he said earlier. You never thought you were dating but you thought - 

Ugh. You don’t know why you expected him to care. 

Sae is, if an asshole, also a gentleman, so he pays for dinner and sends you home in an Uber on his card. 

You smile pleasantly until you get into the car and then you’re practically tearing your hair out. You need to make him regret this. 

So obviously the question now is who would make Sae the sickest to find out you got with? Who would have that man holding his stomach in tears? 

Shidou is too obvious and also you doubt that Sae would care. In a funny way, Shidou is the least you can do to him. 

Oliver? No, he’s too much of a slut. This needs to be a hit and run, an attack, but targeted. Aiku is just too easy to make Sae feel anything besides mild annoyance that you fucked his captain. 

You’d have to butter Kaiser up before you even got near him, and besides, Sae didn’t even react when you brought him up earlier. 

Your brain flinches away from Rin’s face when it pops up in your brain like you touched a hot stove, a solid rejection you don’t even have to think about. 

No. 

It hurts too much. You’re angry but you still care about Sae. This is- 

You want to piss him off, not hurt him irrevocably. Dating Rin right after not-dating him would be something the two of you couldn’t come back from. 

Even if Sae likes to pretend he’s not sensitive when it comes to his little brother, you know better. 

Back to the drawing board. 

The most important part is that Sae can’t know you’re trying to make him jealous, so it has to come up organically. You’re aiming for a teammate because you need someone who will talk about it in Sae’s locker room, someone who can get it to Sae without making it too obvious. 

All paths lead to Oliver Aiku. 

Unfortunately. 

You don’t even know if this is going to work. 

“Just so you know,” you tell him, “you weren’t my first choice.”

“Aw, why?” He asks. “You don’t think I’ll get Sae mad enough?” 

“Are you kidding me? If anything, he’s going to think I’ve lowered my standards! He’s not going to regret losing me, he’s going to think that I’m so pathetic his little rejection sent me off the deep end!” 

“But then he’ll be right,” Oliver says. “Considering he did lower your standards and send you off the deep end. You’re standing in my living room right now, aren’t you?” 

You squint at him. “And I can walk right back out, so don’t test me.” 

“Don’t be like that,” Oliver purrs. “I’m great at making men jealous.” 

“I’m not sure that’s something to be proud of.” 

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I’m going to take you somewhere your man couldn’t even dream of taking you.” 

“Oliver, this is a Wendy’s.” 

“Sae would never dream of taking you here,” he shrugs. “Wow, good bite! You’re great at eating.” 

“Okay, one, that’s a weird thing to say, and two, I’m going to go find someone else if you can’t help me. I know you can’t help yourself but since I’m your friend, I thought at the very least, you would try not to waste my time.” 

“Yeesh, calm down-“ 

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” 

“My bad,” he says cheerfully. “Trust me, I have a plan.” 

“I don’t trust you,” you say pointedly, narrowing your eyes at him. 

He ignores you. “What makes a man angrier than thinking you moved on?” 

“Moving on with his rival?” 

“Close. Thinking he never had you. See, Sae takes you on these fancy dates to high end restaurants and museums and what not. But you know how he is. He’s with you but he’s not really with you. You gotta beat him at his own game. Let him think that you were just indulging him when really this is what you want.” He scoots his chair closer to you until you can practically feel the warmth of him radiating through his thin shirt. His cologne smells like jasmine, a strangely delicate scent for him. “Make him feel like he never really knew you, because I’m the one who does.” 

You breathe in the scent of his feminine cologne, stalling. It would be so easy to listen to Oliver. It would be so easy to let him in your heart. He knows what to say and when to say it. 

In a way, he does know you. 

Familiarity is unavoidable with time, and you’ve been friends of circumstance for ages. 

“You just wanted an excuse to take me to Wendy’s,” you say with a fake laugh that is so perfected, you can only pick up the stilted quality of it if you really, really listen. 

He pulls out of your space a little, a smile playing on his lips. “You know me so well. That too.” 

Oliver knows you a little too well. He says the right things at the right times because he’s telling you what you want to hear. 

Are you destined to be toyed with by beautiful football players? 

In the car on the way back to your house, Oliver texts you. “Get him back for me, playa.”  

In the locker room, Oliver doesn’t start the conversation because that would be too obvious. He’s a respectful man, he doesn’t kiss and tell. It would be out of character for him to start bringing up last night’s exploits and Sae would catch on instantaneously. 

He waits until Sendou, not subtly, tries to ask him who that pretty girl he posted last night was. 

“Are you sure that was a girl? Aiku never posts who he’s with. It was probably his sister.” 

Oliver doesn’t see who said that, but he doesn’t take offense. Again, he doesn’t kiss and tell. Whoever he’s with is a secret. 

He lets them simmer for a little bit more before he casually drops your name, saying it was just a friendly meal. Out of the corner of his eye, Sae stops putting on his shirt. 

“I’ll say,” Sendou says. “You took her to Wendy’s? That’s foul even for you.” 

“Maybe she likes Wendy’s,” Aiku says. “You don’t know her.” 

Although that last part isn’t really directed at Sendou. 

It’s rare for Sae to willingly open social media, but here he is, scrolling through Oliver’s story. Your face is never in any of the pictures, but he can tell. You’re- 

His brain stutters to a halt. 

You’re wearing the necklace he bought you on a date with another man.

There’s only one picture left in Oliver’s stories from last night, but of course that demon would’ve saved the best for last. It’s a simple shot. You’re sitting outside somewhere, under the stars. His hand is holding yours from across the table, your arm stretched out towards him. It’s the only one with a sliver of your face in it, the edge of a sweet, tender smile. 

Sae doesn’t fight. He’s not the type. But over you? 

He fights the only way he knows how. Through football. 

When Sae calls you after practice, you fumble your phone so hard it drops out of your hands and into the sink. You had fun with Oliver last night, but deep down, you didn’t really think Sae would care, as much as you wanted him to. It’s just the way he is. 

By the time you fish your phone out, it’s making strange noises and unable to return Sae’s call. You don’t feel like going out today after your wild night - crying onto Aiku’s shoulder through mouthfuls of French fries - so you resolve to pick a new one up tomorrow. 

Sae will wait. He’s very patient. 

Sae shows up on your doorstep within thirty minutes of your denied call. He lives twenty minutes away, if he speeds. 

Now he’s sitting in your living room, drinking water from your favorite mug while you squirm uncomfortably. He, on the other hand, seems content to sit in silence. 

“You hung out with Aiku last night,” he says. 

Now that he’s actually in the room, you feel like you did something wrong. It’s insane how much influence Sae has over you. He hurt you, but retaliation somehow feels like getting caught with your hand in a cookie jar. 

“Yes,” you mumble. 

“Hm? Speak up.” 

“So what if I did?” 

Sae raises an eyebrow. “Nothing. I don’t mind who you hang out with.” 

“Fine,” you say. “Guess I’ll hang out with him again. Since you don’t care.” 

His mouth curls into a smile behind his mug. That motherfucker. It’s ticking you off. He’s so in control of himself, so smug and pleased and - 

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” 

“You know, since you care so much- huh?” 

“Do you want to start dating?” He rephrases patiently. 

You stammer for a bit before you’re able to reply coherently. “I thought you didn’t want to.” 

“Did I say that?” 

“Yes,” you hiss. “You made it very clear.” 

“I don’t remember saying that,” he says and sets his mug down. When he stands, terror rises in you. He’s coming over. He’s sitting back on his haunches in front of you on the couch, eye to eye. “I just said that we weren’t dating. But I’d like to.” 

“You only want me because I was with another man,” you say faintly. You’re trying to act cute, playful, but you’re not sure it’s working. There’s not enough blood going to your brain. 

“You want me to beg, don’t you?” 

You can’t deny how excited that makes you. Part of it is the way he says it, his voice slow and measured, deepening near the end. Part of it is just hearing ‘beg’ come out of Sae’s mouth. 

“Okay, then. You don’t like Wendy’s.” 

God, you hate men. Who cares about Wendy’s? Why do they always argue about this? Oliver and Sae both-

“You like the places we go. You like,” he tugs lightly on your necklace in a way that stops just shy of stinging. “The way I spoil you.” He pushes you back onto the couch and leans over you. “You like the way I know,” his nose brushes over the carotid artery in your neck, “what makes you feel good.” 

“So I can beg if you want me to.” He’s all in your space, filling it up. All you can smell and feel and see is Sae. You feel paralyzed by his eyes. Devoured whole. “I can get on my knees for you and let you put a leash around my neck and promise that you can have anything you want from me. But let’s not pretend that you want anyone else but me.” 

Okay. So maybe you do care about Wendy’s. 

“Aiku thinks he knows you,” Sae says, his voice calm and easy. It’s like he’s laying out a mathematical formula instead of confessing his love, but it’s so Sae. “He doesn’t. I know you.” 

You whimper. 

Sae laughs dryly. 

You don’t sleep in your own bed that night. Sae drives you both back to his apartment, insists on brushing your teeth for you with the toothbrush he bought for you, and does your skincare routine before he tucks you into bed. 

You’re half asleep when he says, “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” 

“Huh?” You mumble, facedown in his pillow. It smells like him. 

Sae leans over so he can kiss your forehead. When he whispers, it’s directly in your ear. “You think you tied me down, huh?” 

You’re wide awake now. “Obviously,” you snap back, annoyed that he’s still trying to play these games. You know he’s not indifferent to you, you just wish he would- 

“No, dear,” Sae says. The pet name sends chills down your spine. “I trapped you.” 

[gangstalkerbarbie]

Yeah! Magic is a cultural concept that should actually be very carefully thought about before you put it in your writing, I think.

There's a funny dissonance about this in the American Orthodox Jewish community, where, like almost every other society, people engage in behaviours that are objectively, anthropologically folk magic.

But they're all very annoying about it, like, no, no, this isn't MAGIC, magic is ILLEGAL... it's not, you literally do it all the time, you were taught a teletubby conceptual translation for "kishuf" (which actually encompasses both illegal sorcery and a rabbinical tradition of allowable theurgy people no longer see a need to do, and therefore rationalize away – and notably includes segulos and most of the stuff women get up to, which is white magic in final fantasy terms) and the only gentiles you know are American Protestants, who are famously not neutral about magic.

What's happening here is the concept of magic as generally subscribed to and feared by Satanic Panic enjoyers, which is a cultural mainstream, has encountered and influenced a minority with a real, ancient, and now fragmentary among most people (Jews no longer have most of our wizard type professions, and rabbis' classical era Earthseaesque high magic has largely been subsumed by Kabbalah and rebranded as mysticism) traditional conception of how power moves through the universe and can (but should it?) be controlled by mortal man.

This conception is translated into the dominant cultural idiom as "magic", which is also that idiom's word for heinous things they really hate you if you do, and that idiom also no longer distinguishes legal from illegal magic. The law of the land is halakhically the law and all communities living near each other affect each other.

The dots are easy to connect from here, and this is why Ukrainian Hasidim are so much more freaky and superstitious about it — the entire east bloc has had mostly the same spiritual ecology (the irl equivalent of the hard natural world bits of a magic system) across religions for a very, very, very long span of feudal time, interrupted by a communist revolution but now increasingly turned to by absolutely everyone. The Hasidic mystic worldview makes absolute sense to random grannies there because they live in the shreds of the Christian reflex thereof.

(You can visit springs sacred to specific native Siberians in Russia and see that Christians, Muslims and local Jews also use them as such — because the sacredness of them has nothing to do with high theology, and that's how folk religions work.)

So in your fantasy world, what is magic? How many different conceptual frameworks exist for magic? Do they all work? Which ones (e.g. in our world, Zoroastrian, Arab and Jewish magic) are considered most effective and foundational? Which ones (e.g. Romani magic) kind of came out of left field into the setting but everyone agrees they work terrifyingly well? Do different societies categorise the same acts as magic? Would a bicultural child between any two of your concultures internalise or innovate anything unusual about magic for where they live? Are they right?

The same guy who will be like MAGIC IS ILLEGAL probably has superstitions about hamsas and is forced to accept certain magical concepts as real because they're codified in the rabbinical literature. He definitely prays an acrostic of the name of a sick person when hoping they get better, and he may believe his doing this is an act of agency, though not power. (Submitting your request to the celestial bureaucracy is still engaging with the machinery of the world that is invisible to people who are not your people.)

But to him they're real, you see. Not magic. He doesn't have the framework even his great great grandparents had for this shit (they lived in Imperial Russia or in Egypt or what have you), which is yet again different from the folk magic landscape the codifiers lived in, where they were allowed to do some things that are now generally accepted as, hm, bad. And this is still distinct from whether electricity is magical. The past is a foreign country, a foreign country is a foreign country, and in real life all of them have only vaguely taxonomically related ideas about what magic even is.

Much to ponder for the median fantasist, and I hope this has been enriching!

a pet peeve of mine in fantasy is when they talk about the Magic(tm) like studying the magic, having the magic, or like, supernatural powers but where everyone has superpowers in that civilization. and. and.

elves wouldn't say "we have superior vision", they'd say "yeah humans are practically blind".

in my pocket i have a piece of metal with a little window that is powered by the energy of running water and that contains all the information in the world

and we call that a cell phone. i play project makeover on mine.

any animal would call that Magic(tm). be we don't. because it's not magic for us.

do you get me?

[zephyrchama]

(Based on that one scene from B99)

“Lucifer, your wrist looks kind of funny.”

All eyes turned to the Avatar of Pride when Leviathan pointed this out. They were supposed to be organizing the house library, but it was a long and boring task. One that everyone wanted to finish quickly, yet nobody could find the motivation to make any real progress.

“Oh no! What happened?” Asmodeus leaned over a table to try and steal a peek. Lucifer’s wrist was, indeed, bent in an odd manner. He used his non-dominant hand to shuffle some papers in order.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

“Yeah, Asmo!” Mammon jeered. “Back off, leave the guy alone.”

Lucifer ignored his brothers, icy gaze focused on the documents in hand. They were papers that had been misfiled and did not belong in the library. He reminded everyone in the room to “behave yourselves” before disappearing into his office.

Curious eyes followed him until he was truly out of sight. Then, the brothers exchanged fascinated looks. It’s not every day that Lucifer get injured.

“Alright, everybody bring it in. Huddle up.” Mammon ushered everyone to come close with a sweep of his hand. The boys reluctantly formed a loose circle.

“What are you up to now?” Belphegor asked with a sigh. “I want to finish this already.”

Mammon pretended not to hear as he whisper-shouted, “so, he wouldn’t say what happened, which can only mean one thing.”

”He’s in a fight club,” Beelzebub suggested.

“No. He did it doing something he’s embarrassed by.” Satan was quick to catch on to the truth.

Beelzebub followed up with, “oh. Could be a sports injury. I sprained my wrist playing fangol last year.”

“Really? I don’t remember that,” Belphegor said.

Leviathan asked, “you think Lucifer was playing fangol?”

A deep growl suddenly came from the doorway. There was no warning or indication that Lucifer would be back so quickly. Yet, the man in question had returned. His menacing quickly caused the group to shut up.

“I can hear you speculating about the nature and origin of my injury from my office, but I don’t think it’s relevant to your jobs. The jobs you should all be doing right now. Get to work.”

The brothers scattered like roaches back to their respective corners of the library. All except for Satan, who Lucifer beckoned over with his finger. Satan hesitated at first, but it was better to go along with Lucifer when his mood was sour. The two stepped out for a minute, far enough away that no one else would overhear.

“What?” Satan was fed up with this conversation and it hadn’t even started.

“Do you want to know how I actually hurt my wrist?

Satan’s eyebrows flew up and he took several seconds to think about the question. What an odd offer. There was nothing for Lucifer to gain by telling him this, was there? Though, if he spent too long thinking Lucifer might change his mind and leave his little brother wondering what happened forever. With an oddly docile tone of voice, Satan responded, “...Yes.”

While Satan was busy wondering how to respond, Lucifer had taken out his DDD. He was scrolling through a menu in search of something. “I was hula hooping. Diavolo and I attend a class for fitness and for fun.”

“No way.” Satan's true thoughts leaked out. It was so dumb, it couldn’t be true.

Lucifer raised his phone to Satan’s eye level. The proof was there. ”I’ve mastered all the moves. The pizza toss. The tornado. The scorpion, the oopsie doodle.”

With each and every silly name, Lucifer swiped to a new photo on his phone. There he was, doing the pizza toss. Showing Diavolo how to do the scorpion. Performing a flawless oopsie doodle. Satan was stupefied, his mouth ajar.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because no one…” Lucifer selected all of the images. He tapped on a trash can in the corner of the screen. The images, every last one, disappeared. “…will ever believe you.”

“No!” Satan lunged for the phone in vain. “You sick, twisted, son of a-”

“You got your answer," Lucifer told him. "Get back to work."

[elssero]

pros and cons of my faves being your roommate!

includes- bakugo, kirishima, denki, sero, shinso, izuku, shigaraki and monoma ! (college au makes most sense)

-inspired by @tokeposts post about shinso being a bad roommate ily toke.

bakugo is very clean, he tidies up after himself very well, as in you’ll hardly find even a trace of him living in your shared areas. he’s also an amazing cook, and while he won’t make meals specifically for you in the beginning, if he has leftovers i’d imagine he may leave tupperware with the note ‘leftovers, help yourself.’

however, i think he’s loud. and in the most inconvenient times. its 8am and he’s blasting music while he works out and ur suffering from a horribleee hangover, he does not care.

i would imagine it takes him awhile to open up to you, but when he eventually does he would much rather cook or go to the gym with you compared to watching a movie on the couch. overall a 8/10 roommate because i cannot forgive the early morning wake ups.

kirishima is an absolute sweetheart, introduces himself straight away and attempts to spend time with you immediately. he’s a great conversationalist and i think he would be amazing at making you feel safe and comfortable.

however, i think he’s clumsy. like your replacing your plates once a month type clumsy. he doesn’t mean it! and he always (tries) to clean up after himself! maybe it’s also that he doesn’t quite know his own strength, shattering glass that takes 20 minutes to clean up with just his grip.

he opens up immediately though, offers to walk you to class (even when he doesn’t have one himself sometimes, but you don’t need to know that.) i think he would also introduce you to his friends too, but he always asks very politely before he invited anyone over!

denki is a horrible roommate. he’s messy and forgetful and he can’t cook and god forbid you ask him to do some laundry for you, he’s completely and utterly hopeless.

it’s a shame that he’s so funny. like an absolute joy to be around. he’s interested in you immediately (in more ways than one) and he takes every opportunity to be around you. hes also super good at finding cheep local places for food and drinks etc, always begging to take you to this new restaurant he’s been dying to try.

‘hey so i burnt our dinner, how about i order us takeout and we watch a movie instead?’ -and so becomes your little thursday night tradition of trying all the takeout places that’ll deliver to your place and watching cringy movies to go along with it. it’s adorable really. he SHOULD be like a 2/10 but he’s so charming it makes it hard.

sero is the chillest guy ever, i believe he was brung up with proper manners and he knows how to take care of himself, it’s a very favour for favour situation. he cooks and you do dishes, you do laundry and he takes out the trash, it’s very domestic from the get go.

however, i think he has a problem with just inviting people over. getting home from a longgg lecture and suddenly there’s three boys in your house that you’ve never met and your subjected to a round of questioning when all you want to do is go to bed. sometimes it feels as though he always has company.

he’d realise pretty fast that it was irritating you though, suddenly your getting messages ‘when will you be home so i can kick denki out so we can hang out.’ it’s sweet. i believe he would be more of a series guy than the movie type. don’t you dare watch an episode without him.

shinso is respectful, he never touches any of your stuff, never gets in your way or makes you uncomfortable, you can just go about your life while having him as your roommate.

but you never see him. you hear him, sometimes at all hours of the night when he’s up finishing a project or showering at 4am when you have a lecture at 8. i think he’s also a procrastinator, you ask him to take out the trash at 7.30 before you leave and you get back at 3 and the trash still isn’t taken out.

sometimes you wake up to a delivery from your favorite breakfast spot on the counter though, so that makes up for it.

izuku is so kind, while he’s a little hopeless at first, he’s very eager to learn. you do have to teach him how to do the laundry and how to use the stove, but he gets it after a few tries. once you begin splitting up the household tasks, things get alot easier. especially when you keep finding your favourite snacks in the fridge.

he can sometimes be overbearing, he won’t go as far as to sneak into your room to try and see what type of stuff your into but he might sneak a peak when you leave ur room.

hugeeee on studying together! brings home ur favorite coffee during finals season and you guys spend hours at the table working at your respective subjects, it’s a fun time.

shigaraki is quiet, most of the time, minus the rare scream at his pc. he doesn’t cook- and he sure as hell doesn’t clean, but he also doesn’t really make any mess, barely leaves his room and orders take out for every meal so he’s not really causing much harm.

it’s definitely you that has to make the move to get to know him. he could go months without speaking to you and everything would be fine for him, until you have enough of course.

once he realised that your okay to hang around with you guys start gaming together, he introduces you to his friends over vc and he gets teased relentlessly for taking forever to become your friend. he starts ordering take out for two.

monoma is the fucking worst, absolutely helpless, huge rich kid energy, i’d even go as far to say he genuinely offers to pay you to do his half of the household chores. if you refuse he’ll probably mope around for a few days before he begrudgingly asks you how to use the washing machine, it’s a grilling few weeks, but you guys get over it.

he’s a hugeee gossiper, knows everything about everyone, you find out things about people that you don’t even know, he can piont to have the people on your walk to campus and tell you a story about them. absolute shit stirrer.

offers to take you to this super nice restaurant free of charge… makes up for the weeks you spend literally teaching him to be an adult… no other reason… it’s literally only to make things even… definitely not a date….

[harunayuuka2060]

WHB Not A Descendant (Cont.)

Lucifer: How does this make you feel? *lightly touching the small horns that appeared on their head*

MC: Stupid.

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: Please take this seriously.

MC: *lets out a tired sigh*

Leviathan: What is it? Have they turned into a devil?

Lucifer: It's hard to say. They don’t show the typical reactions of a devil when their horns are touched.

Beelzebub: A devil who doesn't feel pleasure? Keke. That's funny.

Lucifer: Let me conduct a few tests. *starts tickling their sides*

MC: *laughing* Stop! *delivers an uppercut to Lucifer*

Lucifer: !!!

Buer: Your Majesty Lucifer!

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: I am fine.

Lucifer: They can still respond to external stimuli, though it's perplexing why the pleasure response is absent.

Satan: What were you doing back in your world?

MC: Minding my own business?

Satan: *frowns*

Mammon: *chuckles* Anyway, I think we should-

Asmodeus: Oh, is that the new devil I've heard about?

Satan, Leviathan, and Mammon: ...

Beelzebub: Haha, yes! Are you here to check?

Asmodeus: *smiles seductively* Of course. What do we have here, hm?

MC: *stares at Asmodeus in disbelief*

Sitri: MC! Don't look at him!

Asmodeus: *smirks*

MC: ...

MC: Nuh-uh. *stands up and quickly runs out of the room*

The kings: ...

Asmodeus: ...?

MC: *locks themselves in their box*

Sitri: MC? What's wrong?

Foras: Please tell us what's bothering you.

Satan: I understand that any devil would be scared of that bastard, but it was their first time seeing him.

Leviathan: Based on their reaction, it seemed like they didn’t want to engage with him again.

Mammon: Could it be they met him in the human world?

Beelzebub: That might be the case. *knocks on the box*

Beelzebub: MC, have you met Asmodeus before?

MC: ...

MC: *opens the lid* Asmodeus?

The kings: ...

Satan: You don't know him? Then why did you run?

Leviathan: Who did you think it was?

MC: *their face turned sour* William.

The devils: ...

The devils: Who's William?

Asmodeus: *chuckles* I understand now. William is one of my children.

Asmodeus: He's an Unholyc.

Beelzebub: I see- Wait. You're friends with his child?

MC: No. I was only friends with Mir.

Asmodeus: Oh! My cute daughter! *chuckles* It's rare for me to meet a friend of hers.

MC: ...

MC: It's nice to meet you... sir.

Asmodeus: Are you not going to shake my hand or kiss my cheek?

MC: ...

MC: *reluctantly shakes his hand*

MC: Your hand feels sticky.

Asmodeus: Ah, forgive me. I touched myself earlier.

MC: ...

MC: Yuck. *pulls back their hand and shakes it, as if flicking off the germs*

Asmodeus: *chuckles*

Sitri: *feeding MC because they refused to use their hands*

Satan: You just shook his hand.

MC: *shakes their head*

Sitri: *smiles* I'll have to feed you then, starting today.

MC: Thanks, Sitri-hyung. You're the best.

Sitri: *chuckles*

Satan: Tch. Look at you getting fooled. They're not even tryna be cute.

[pjsk-suggestions]

Momojan transparents? I can’t believe they adopted Mizuki

movie 2 star transparents: momojan edition

[esotericbluntbaby]

srry if this sounds stupid but like.. reader thats super short?? like 5'1

idk thinking abt the fact that he could just manhandle you is making me so ♡♡ i keep thinking abt that trend where he could pick you up and place you on his shoulders omg.. or maybe he makes u sit on his lap and stuff while he edits

also feel like he's super protective u (subconsiously he doesnt even realize it) always putting a hand around u type of thing

hamzah x short!reader headcannons (sfw and nsfw)

mentions: reader gets insecure about their weight sometimes, manhandling, sexual activities, size kink

sfw!

being 5'10, hamzah was used to being taller than most people he knew. however, it hits way different when it comes to you. he enjoys having to look down at you whenever you're standing next to him; it gives him a slight ego boost about how tall he is.

though, being with someone short also has its downsides; sometimes hugging him when he's carrying all his film equipment is difficult. when side hugging him, he has to crouch down awkwardly or you have to go on the very tips of your toes in order to be able to.

you actually hate having to ask him for help on reaching things from high parts of your apartment; you've been independent for ages, so you feel like you should be able to simply grab whatever you need from the top. hamzah, however, hates it when you grab a chair to stand on. he thinks you'll somehow fall over and break something

hamzah walks in the room with a puzzled expression on his face, "hey baby? have you seen my- what are you doing?"

you looked down at him, standing on the counter, "i'm baking and i needed my measuring cups."

he grabs you by the waist and lifts you down with his hands, then reaching to the top of the cabinet with ease and grabbing the measuring cups you needed, "you could've just asked me."

whenever you get tired of walking around in heels, or your feet simply feel like they're bound to be raw instead of with skin, he carries you with ease. hamzah's a man who hates seeing his woman struggle with anything, yet he also didn't want to walk around toronto with only socks on the cold, dirty pavement. so, instead, he lifts you and carries you either bridal style or on his back.

he really has to lean down in order for you two to be able to kiss. whether it's a kiss on the cheek or a kiss on the lips, it's either he's bending down or you're on your toes. when you're in a situation where he can't bend over or he simply doesn't want to, forehead kisses are the next best option.

sometimes, he'll simply walk to wherever you are, grab you by the waist and hoist you onto his shoulder, and then take you to the couch to watch a movie with him. you don't really know how it started, but ever since he did it for the first time and you didn't seem to mind, he now does it probably once a week.

"hamzah, y'know you could've just asked me to come to the living room, right?"

"why would i do that?"

stealing his clothes is funny to him; it's been a running joke where, no matter how big the clothes you stole are, you'll still deny that it's his. he fakes being upset at it, but the blush he has on his cheeks tell a different story. one time, the roles reversed and he stole a tank top and basketball shorts from you.

"hamzah, what the hell are you wearing..?"

"just a little something from my closet ^-^"

if you ever get insecure about your weight, he makes it KNOWN that you weigh literally nothing to him. either by benchpressing your body or squatting it, he makes you laugh with all the movement he's making you go through. afterwards, he definitely reassures you that you're genuinely the most beautiful person he's ever seen; it's safe to say that you don't get insecure about your weight that often with him in your life.

nsfw!

hamzah's arms are absolutely ripped. therefore, he's able to switch your position whenever it's needed. cramping? he'll manhandle you and switch the position. tired? he'll manhandle you and switch the position. about to finish? he'll manhandle you and switch the position so that you feel as pleasured as possible when you release.

whenever he eats you out, he's able to overstimulate you as much as he can. his arms are almost always spreading your thighs apart, his promise ring making indents in your skin, even if your thighs are trying to squeeze his head off. occasionally, he lets you squeeze his head; contrary to popular belief, i think hamzah's a thigh and ass guy. being squeezed by how soft your thighs are turns him on even more.

the options for positions are ENDLESS. he's able to lift you and carry you for as long as both of you can last.

size kink. watching him rip you apart turns him on to the point where sometimes, he doesn't last as long as usual from the mere sight of your pornographic moans and having him enter and exit. watching you get tore apart also turns you on; he's so big and strong. that's your man, right there. only he's able to make you feel like this (and finish as fast as you do).

he wraps his hand around your wrists to restrain you; with the height difference, his hands are basically double the size of yours. he pins you down quite often, since missionary is probably one of his favorite positions. he likes seeing how blissful your expression is when he's deep inside of you.

authors note!

sorry i edged u guys the whole day with this LOLL! it's kinda short, but i hope u guys enjoy!

[soft-pine]

spn20rewatch: 2.20 what is and what should never be

this has got to be in my top ten episodes of all time! there is so much i love about it! it has my favorite favorite scene and then my other FAVORITE FAVORITE SCENE!!!

but before we get there it has some wonderful dean character moments.

dean's confused, withdrawn, performative kiss with carmen!

this whole scene watching his face go from performance to confusion and worry and back and forth! he is so funny and i love him so much!

but this is also a cruel foreshadowing that the next two kisses dean has are him specifically sacrificing himself and his body as a means to an end.

but we're not there yet so let's just bask in THIS!

DEAN: Well, who'd'a thought, baby. We're civilians.

or THIIISSSSS!!!

DEAN Dad's dead? And the thing that killed him was a... MARY A stroke. He died in his sleep. You know that. DEAN That's great.

or the way dean is so fucking happy to see jess and it's heartbreakingly sweet!

there is also so much that can be said about how even in dean's "dream world," he's the family fuck-up. he's never really thought much about his own future or himself but the best thing he can picture is his family (or most of them, HA!) alive and happy and safe. and i think there's a component of this where he has to remove himself (and John) in order to imagine it being possible. gutting honestly.

season two opens with dean yelling at john (though john can't hear him) and ends with dean crying at john's grave. i'm interested in the shared threads between these two iterations.

2.01

DEAN: I've done everything you have ever asked me. Everything. I have given everything I've ever had.

2.20

DEAN: Course I know what you'd say. Well, not the you that played softball but... "So go hunt the Djinn. He put you here, it can put you back. Your happiness for all those people's lives, no contest. Right?" But why? Why is it my job to save these people? Why do I have to be some kind of hero?

the speech in 2.20 is actually one of the very best explanations i feel we ever get for dean's relationship with john. because the issue is not only that john forced dean into hunting, it's that hunting saves people. like dean can rail against john and against his childhood that was stolen and against his future that will be stolen and against all the cruelty and harshness and ways he was parentified and it was subtly reinforced that his life literally mattered less than sam's or than strangers. but hunting does save people, goddammit and dean both cares so deeply about that on his own that many of these sacrifices would be freely chosen and he cannot fully hate or distance himself from his father because so much of what john did was actually just straightforwardly good.

abuse is messy. i think john winchester's characterization is perfect, actually.

dean can much more easily put to rest a father who played softball than a father who "got a bum rap around every turn. But you know what? He kept going. And in the end, he did a hell of a lot more good than he did bad." (8.12)

like dean has to remove himself and john from their family's lives to picture their family getting a happy life. but for it to feel easy, he also has to make this father one who just worked at a body shop (i'm extrapolating) and played softball.

so yes, okay this episode is a nonstop thrill ride of beautiful, cute, wonderful dean moments and utter heartbreak. so of course, the next thing i have to say is THAT THIS SCENE IS SO FUCKING CUTE!!!!! i can't stand it! (rip to the "I know how it sounds" that i didn't squeeze in because it was too long. because that line just kills me !!!!!)

but look look look!!!! he's so smooth and cunty AHHH

so it follows that what comes next is heartbreak. dean wants a future where mary is alive, where jess is alive, where sam is happy and safe and in college and alive. and it's not real and he can't have it and it will kill him but he wants to stay. so he stabs himself in the heart.

and in the next episode sam dies anyway.

... well here we are, this is already so long and i haven't even talked about my actual favorite scene. which also, i think, happens to be my favorite scene in all of supernatural....

Dean realizing one of the other of the djinn's victims is still alive and catching her as sam cuts her free.

DEAN: I gotcha. I gotcha. We're gonna get you out of here, OK? I gotcha. I got you.

the way the fact that he's in pain and weak and drained is layered throughout the desperate care in his voice here.... besties i don't have words...

all hail 2.20

[hannahssimblr]

Odd sensation, the tattoo gun. On the internet, they said the forearm wasn’t bad. One of the least painful spots, which is why I try to suppress my wince as the needle buzzes over my skin. 

“It’s more painful when you’re tired or dehydrated, by the way,” says Kwan, the artist, her chewing gum smacking in her mouth over the sound of thrash metal. 

“Right, right. I guess I’m always dehydrated a bit.”

“He never drinks water,” Jonas pipes up from the sofa. “I remind him of it all the time, but he won’t.”

“Everything wrong with my life probably comes back to that,” I grin at Kwan, and the corner of her mouth ticks up. 

“You’re cute,” she says. “Pretty little face. How old are you guys?”

“Twenty,” Jonas says. “At least me. Jude is still nineteen.”

“Wow. Little babies,” Kwan wipes pooling black ink with a tissue, revealing a thin curved line along my forearm. Weird, I think, looking at it. That’s there forever now. Every day until I’m dead, I’ll look down and there’ll be something on my arm. 

“And what brings you to Phuket?” 

“Well, to be honest, Kwan, we came here just for you,” I say. Her eyes flick to my face, and she sighs with resignation. “You’re good, you know that? You’re going to go far. Going to break some hearts.” 

“We’re backpacking,” Jonas clarifies. “Bangkok for a week, Phuket for another, then we’re going to the Phi Phi Islands and Koh Samui. Jude is acting on complete impulse with this tattoo. I think he is probably trying to flirt so that you like him.”

“And the mango,” she says, now delicately inking the leaves. “Is it personally significant?”

“No, I just liked it. Your art is nice. Never thought I’d get a tattoo because I thought they were all, you know, big thick lines and shit, but yours…”

“Thank you.”

“And like, I guess the mangoes here taste really good, so I could say it’s a memento of my time in Thailand.”

Kwan exhales a laugh. “And not too much between your ears, I see, which is good. Otherwise I think you would doom womankind.”

I grin. “God, Kwan, I love when women insult me. It’s my bread and butter.”

The tattoo gun hits a nervy patch of skin near my inner elbow and I hiss through my teeth. “Ah!”

“Too much?” 

Then I laugh. “Yes. No. Maybe it depends, doesn’t it? I hope this is worth it.”

Later, strolling the beach, I take a photograph of my arm wrapped in plastic and send it to my mother. 

Look what I did.  Why would you do that to your body???? 

She gets back. 

Is that permanent??? 

I cackle. 

“What are you laughing at? Did you send that to Astrid?”

“No, to my mom. She doesn’t approve.”

“Oh,” Jonas frowns, as though this is of deep concern. “Doesn’t her reaction disappoint you?”

“No, I knew she’d hate it, and now she’s going to show my dad and he’ll hate it even more. It was the same when I pierced my ears on holidays. He doesn’t think men should do things like that, and whatever.”

“And you like that he is outraged?”

“Yeah, it’s funny. He hates everything I do regardless, so like, might as well lean the whole way in, you know?”

“You should send the picture to your dad.”

“Nah, I don’t really… I don’t, like, text him… or anything like that.”

“Never?”

“Nah. He wouldn’t respond, anyway. It’s better to get a reaction from my mom.”

He hesitates, getting ready to attempt some conversation, no doubt, that I haven’t much interest in having. I feel my defences rise before he opens his mouth. A blanket of emotional exhaustion settling over me. “You haven’t spoken too much about your father before,” he says. “I assumed you are not close, but—” 

“Please,” I say. “Let’s not.”

“But I am just thinking about how—”

“Jonas, it really doesn’t have to be like this. It’s really not a fun conversation to have.”

“Right. It’s just that you’ve even had dinner with my stepfather when he came to visit, and you know all about my father and my half brother and–”

“Yeah, I know. Max was a nice man. It was a nice dinner, but just because you’ve shared stuff with me doesn’t mean I have to share back.”

“But don’t you think since we’ve known each other for months now, and we are friends, that you should tell me something about your family?”

“You telling me personal things doesn’t make you entitled to know things about me.”

“Yes, but just some basic facts. What is your father’s name?” 

“Chris.”

“Christian?”

“Topher. Christopher.”

“And he is American.”

“Yes.”

Jonas leaves space for me to elaborate, and I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. How old I do feel when people ask me about my dad? Twelve, every single time. Twelve, and destroying his stupid rare collector’s book purely for attention. He lost his mind and whacked my face with the back of his hand. Wedding ring rapped across a cheekbone. Was exhilarating to see him display an emotion. I remember laughing on the floor with hysterical glee among the shredded pages. A vindictive little winner. 

“He was born in California. He has four brothers. He studied dental medicine at the University of New Mexico, then he got my mom pregnant and married her.”

Another pause. “I see it was difficult for you to say that.”

“It was fine.”

“He was in university when you were born?”

“Yeah. He was twenty-one.”

“And your mother?”

“Nineteen.” 

“Your age.”

“Yes, my age. Terrible for her, I suppose. I don’t know. She’s fine. They’re both fine.”

He nods. “So you are determined to remain a mystery.”

“I’m determined to enjoy my trip, to be honest.”

“Well, thank you for sharing facts about your father.”

My arm is already sweating under the layers of plastic, beaten by the sun. Kwan said I shouldn’t expose the tattoo to sunlight. Then why did I get this thing? On holidays by the beach, about to spend another two weeks island hopping, and how hot is it? Thirty-seven? Forty? Sometimes my own reasonings are mysterious to me. 

“Let’s do something else,” I say, agitated by myself and everything around me. “What’s next?”

“You just got a tattoo, and now you are already looking for more excitement?”

“Yes, come on, I’m bored.”

“Okay, okay, let’s think of something.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[wubbowrites]

i would have liked to know you

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog

Relationship: Sonic & Maria Robotnik, Sonic/Shadow

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: None!

AO3 Link

“I don’t know what he was like back then, but he’s a big fan of brooding these days.”

That got a proper laugh out of Maria. The kind that made someone tilt their head back, made tears well up at the corners of their eyes. Sonic didn’t think it was that funny, but he was glad she did. Her laugh was worth a thousand bad jokes.

—

Sonic has a strange dream.

Sonic had gotten pretty good at the whole lucid dreaming thing. So when he found himself sitting in a field of flowers he didn’t recognize, with a day-lit sky that was just slightly too dark, he knew that he was definitely dreaming.

The environment may have been a bit uncanny valley for his tastes, but it wasn’t terrible. The wind still felt nice against his quills. The grass was still soft. The flowers — whatever they were — smelled nice. Like a sweet, subtle perfume. And there wasn’t a single gray cloud in that strange, deep blue sky.

Sonic’s eyes fluttered shut. He listened closely to the sounds, felt the sensations around him. As he let himself savor the moment, he noticed a rustling behind him. His ears twitched, but he didn’t feel like opening his eyes just yet. Whoever was approaching was doing it slowly, and he sensed no malice. He let them walk up to his back, then plop down beside him.

Finally, he glanced over, and he saw a girl. A human girl, with long blonde hair and a pretty blue dress. Her skin was pale and she had dark circles under her eyes. She was thin. She looked tired. But she smiled at Sonic like he was an old friend of hers.

In a way, maybe she was. Sonic had never met her before, but he remembered enough of what Shadow had let slip in the past to recognize these details. He could put the pieces together.

“Hey,” he greeted casually. “Are you…Maria?”

The girl nodded. “How’d you guess?”

“I’ve heard a lot about you, that’s all. And I think I’ve seen your picture at least once.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you too, Sonic the Hedgehog,” Maria said with a giggle.

This surprised Sonic to hear. He tilted his head. “You have?”

“He still visits the ARK Memorial, you know. In Central City Park.” Maria waved her finger in a ‘check’ motion, like she was going through a to-do list. “Every year, on the dot!”

Sonic felt a wave of fondness sweep across his chest. He chuckled. “I should have figured. Though I never pictured him actually talking to you. I always imagined him just crossing his arms and glaring at the stone. I don’t know what he was like back then, but he’s a big fan of brooding these days.”

That got a proper laugh out of Maria. The kind that made someone tilt their head back, made tears well up at the corners of their eyes. Sonic didn’t think it was that funny, but he was glad she did. Her laugh was worth a thousand bad jokes.

Once she’d calmed down, Maria flopped down onto her back. She took a deep breath. Sonic watched curiously. After a minute or two, he leaned back too. While Maria laid straight with her hands folded properly against her chest, he tucked his hands behind his head as a cushion, and tucked one leg over the other.

Their styles couldn’t have been more different, but they shared the same blue hues. They enjoyed the same beautiful day.

“I’m sorry if this place isn’t quite right,” Maria finally said.

“What, did you make this?”

“I did. I wanted something comfortable so we could talk properly. But I was off planet for a long time, and there’s a big difference between remembering or studying what Earth looks like and actually seeing it for yourself. I had to guess a little to fill in the gaps.”

Sonic didn’t bother asking more. He just accepted what she said, tried to take it in stride. “Whatever the case, it’s great. I haven’t had a dream this peaceful in awhile!”

“True.”

Sonic’s ears twitched again. But he still didn’t ask why she would know his dreams well enough to say that. Or what she meant when she said she ‘made’ this place. What was the point of making sense of a dream?

But there was one thing he wanted to know. “What did you need to talk about?”

Maria suddenly sat up. She looked down at Sonic with glittering eyes. She looked so fond of him, despite them never interacting.

“I wanted to thank you for taking care of him. For keeping him company since I’ve been gone. I know he can be prickly, but…he really likes you, you know. I wasn’t lying when I said he talks about you. Every time he visits us, I get to hear about a new adventure of yours. You’ve always sounded wonderful, and…and he always sounds like he’s having fun. In his own way, y’know? You make him happy.”

And though all of this was a dream, and Sonic knew logically none of this was real, he still felt in his chest like it was. With that in mind, he smiled warmly back at her. “Of course. He makes me happy too.”

“I’m glad. I’m really glad!” Maria laughed beautifully again. “I think I would have liked to know you, if things had gone differently.”

Sonic nodded. “I think we would’ve gotten along great.”

“I agree!”

Maria laid back down. She scooched closer to Sonic, reached out, and grabbed his hand. He let her squeeze it.

And then suddenly, everything faded away.

—

Sonic woke slowly. Curled up in his favorite hammock, buried in blankets and a black and red hedgehog, he snuggled into its warmth.

He sleepily opened his eyes to see Shadow’s gloveless hand reaching around to hold his. Sonic felt him squeeze it.

“You up?” Sonic whispered.

A grunt. “You were mumbling in your sleep.” Shadow said it in an accusatory tone, like Sonic could have controlled that. It made Sonic giggle.

“Yeah, sorry. I had a weird dream.”

“Mm?”

“I, uh…I think I talked to Maria?”

He felt his rival tense up. With some difficulty (hammocks just weren’t built for two), Sonic rolled over to face Shadow. He didn’t look upset per se…but it was always a difficult topic.

“Sorry-”

“Don’t. I mean…” Shadow cleared his throat. “Don’t…apologize. What did…What did you talk about?”

Sonic hummed. He nuzzled into Shadow’s neck. One of his hands crept up to bury itself in Shadow’s chest fur. Curled up together like this was secretly Sonic’s favorite way to be. He knew Shadow loved it too — that it calmed him down from bad moments.

Sonic didn’t want this to be a bad moment. But he prepared, just in case.

“She thanked me for making you happy,” he said. “And I told her you made me happy too.”

Shadow went quiet again. Just as Sonic would’ve started to worry though, he nuzzled Sonic back. Silently reassuring that he was alright, just thinking.

Eventually, his eyelids fluttered closed, and his breathing started evening out again. Before he could fall back asleep, he said, “I think you two would have gotten along.”

Sonic snorted and closed his eyes too. “That’s exactly what we said.”

[alelathedragon]

Well ga damn. I hit the big one zero zero.... OVER A MR PUZZLES AU TUMBLR SEXYMAN COMPETITION

I LOVE THIS COMMUNITY

FUCKING WHEEEEEEEEEZE god i dont even know what to say that i havent already said at this point, the small community of Mr.Puzzles lovers is so fucking wholesome and funny, ive made lots of friends. Made new mutuals. Being involved in so many things whether it be simple Answers to my asks, character interactions, drawing war.

Im going to give a quick shout out to my best friends :3

@kizzorelli my wife/playtonic one of the best things to happen to me period. Silly rodent whos art speed is concerning but amazing

@thecourtofinfestation EEEEEEVIL BEST FRIEND literally so awesome, ANOTHER best thing to happen to me in my life period. We're in sync on another level

@mothfoxwastaken bug woman. Zeroist funny person on the planet

@mpc07-foundtheinternet ramble more MORE. I love your ideas and playing with ya!

@infundi360 wife again/playtonic another best thing to happen to me in my life period. Literally how are we friends ur so pog

@your4thwallbreaker i just met you like a month ago but if anything happened to you i would kill everyone on this app and then myself. Youre super cool and i went on a rattle about that but fuck you get rattled again bc my heart is too large

@thestuffiesheadquarters you have wormed yourself into my life and i am attached to you by the hip/playtonic. Silly goober i enjoy holding in my palm

@liliththequeenofdemon you also speedran yourself into my life broda, youre really funny. Silly, and i enjoy your company :3

@alex-dolmatescu2-0 GET OVER HERE MY FELLOW SOCIALLY AWKWARD PLUSHIE!!! I wuv ya and your funnies. Youve been sweet to talk with and also just a large help with the sexyman poll i cant thank u enough like goddamn

My new mutuals!!! HIHIHI!!!

@the-masked-astro

How the FUCK do you keep track of all your characters and give them all the screen time they deserve you absolute MADMAN/pos. I always admired your artwork - but i have the funny ADHD so everytime i liked one of your posts or reblogged them... And MEANT to follow you.... I got sidetracked immediately 😅 BUT I FIXED THAT NOW!!! literally youre a god of some assortment for being able to give all your fellas screentime and awesome writing. SMG4 wishes he could do that

@michealscorneroftheinternet

Youre TEHCNICALLY my mutual now!! Following my holiday smg4 account that ive been working on slowly. And like i think you deserve to be shouted out anyways. Me when i look at your posts for literally 20 minutes picking out the smallest details and thinking about them. Me when im constantly looking forward to the next drop and all the nitpicks i get to do, it's like a gift basket to my eyes i love biting onto your content with my jagged teeth and ripping it to shreds. Even though ive never commented on your Change In Script. Know that im looking at it a normal amount and thinking about it on the regular. Same for The Fallen one you and Dorro are making. Im happy to see them here for Change in Script!!

@theclosetcreature

I CANNOT EXPRESS HOW MUCH YOUR ART TICKLES MY BONES. the way you DRAW GAW DAMN. It's so crunchy and delightfully pleasing to my soul. I have to restrain myself my reblogging every single damn post you've ever made period. Going through your entire blog and reblogging every single one type of deal lol. Ur chill. Happy to have you :3

@fenicearts420

DRAGONNNNNNS DRAGON DRAGON DRAGON DRAGON DRAAAAAAGOOOON

Ive expressed how much i love your HTTYD content BUT FUCK YOU WERE DOING IT AGAIN

THE AMOUNT OF EFFORT AND SKILL IN YOUR HTTYD ARTS BLOW MY MIND, MAKE ME KICK MY FEET, GIGGLE, RUN AROUND THE ROOM, CRY AND GIGGLE AGAIN

YOU SHOULD BE A HTTYD CONCEPT ARTIST SAVE THE SERIES. S A V E IT FROM LIVE ACTION HELL PLEAAAAAASE *cough* ahem

Your self ship dynamic is very silly and wholesome at the same time. Critter and sophisticated man dynamic my beloved. You're charming and i like seeing the tags you put in your reblogs.

I feel like im missing someone so i might come back and edit this later

Oh yeah and btw im going to be a stinky fucky little cheater and just say the tumblrsexyman competition is my 100 follower special 👊✌️👉👉👉 suck it /silly

[transmutationisms]

like there is a (usually subconscious) perception among medical professionals that any degree of patient self advocacy is a threat to their expert status & simultaneously in psychiatry specifically it's ultra important that everyone toe the line because these aren't diagnoses that you can like physically document even.

hgkgj3m i was diagnosed by a psychiatrist with "cluster b" in the psych emergency for patient self advocacy and not backing down on seeing a pain specialist after years of jumping through hoops to no avail... also said the opioid epidemic was a result of gross medical neglect in overprescribing and was now resulting in gross medical neglect the other way w underprescribing

diagnosed with Extra Not A Disorder, i think they literally couldnt decide which "this person is manipulative and sinister" disorder to give me, for undermining their expert status and that of doctors everywhere by not accepting being patronised and pathologised (tried to blame it on hrt, Maybe i would Change My Mind™) and suggesting doctors could be responsible for causing harm ^_^

this patient thinks she knows so much and is better than Me she must be a narcissist... but shes manipulating me she must be evil hysterical woman... but she's icky trans so maybe she's a sociopath (male coded)... but she's making such a big deal out of this maybe she's histrionic... eh it's not like these disorders have quantifiable symptoms lets just say it's the whole category

alright so i generally think this isn't an issue of overprescribing per se (i think drugs should all be legalised and available lol) but one of lying about the risks—whether or not someone 'needs' opioids for a broken ankle, they do need to be told that opioids have addiction potential, and that is information that the sacklers were massaging out of their trial data and that doctors in turn were not telling their patients, even after it was very obvious to anyone doing followups that the risk existed. & like i say this as someone who did start doing opioids because they were around the house lol. i don't think the answer here is that doctors magically become able to determine with pinpoint accuracy who actually 'needs' the drugs—there is no way to eliminate human error from that process, for one, and anyway i think people should be able to make their own decisions on substance use in general. but you have to be doing that with actual full information. but i do certainly agree the underprescribing is an issue—this has always been a problem for people with chronic pain/illness, and media coverage of the 'opioid epidemic' (scare quotes bc i think the epidemic framing is a bad one) has certainly made this worse.

anyway though. this is funny cause i initially got shuttled to psychiatry because i was trying to get my chronic fatigue diagnosed, and i definitely think asking for pills was a factor in the psych deciding i was bpd or hpd or bipolar or whatever he even said lol. you always have to do this little song and dance with them where you showed up to the office of the prescribing professional but now you have to pretend you're not looking for a prescription becsuse if you want it too much that's Bad obviously. and then because PDs in particular and psych diagnoses in general are vibes based, it's literally just the psych announcing in medicalese that they don't like you. if you look at the criteria for some of the PDs they even explicitly include points for how the patient 'makes' the doctor feel akajaksajs like literally i diagnose you with im doing transmisogyny to you

[beneathsilverstars]

your post about nille and party interactions is always fun to look back on but her interaction with loop is the funniest to me specifically because of your idea in regards to loop giving nille the worst possible advices where you can only do so much but the exact opposite since it's so funny to me. i like to think that since nille's status in the party is completely new and foreign in loop's eyes (new and with no previous memories to look back and go with wide-eyes on) they actually and sincerely believe in the advices they give. no snark and bite the way they do it with sif (because it's an entire different case with him) so trying to be the 'helpful loop' (now no longer having the attention of the universe) they were before now feels like more of a slight refresher as opposed to what was once before. obviously nille will still VERY MUCH act in the opposite way of what they adviced but hey, it's the thought that counts.

and on a different note, do you think she would connect the dots in regards to who loop used to be? i'd imagine that with how she sees siffrin and loop it'll be hard and everyone else would still dance around the topic for reasons that may be but i wanna know what you think! sorry if this is too hefty of an ask, i just got hit by the nille obsession and your fic about her hit me right in the gut as a result. thanksies in advance!

glad you enjoyed my fic!! ^^ ^^ ^^

with loop’s shitty advice i was imagining more along the lines of

nille: why would bonnie need me to protect them when they have you guys, i’m utterly useless

loop: oooh ok then i guess if a sadness attacks us you should stand way in the back behind bonnie

nille: what?? no!!!

loop: why not

nille: bc what if the sadness does get past you, i should still be between it and bonnie??

loop: but if you’re completely useless then that would accomplish nothing

nille: … i guess i’m not completely useless

loop giving genuine shitty advice is also very funny though. siffrin actually is a lot better at understanding how to help other people, they just lose all critical thinking skills the moment a situation touches on their own insecurities? however loop has been trapped in a timeloop for years so i could imagine them being a whole different kind of bad at it. just entirely out of touch with what sorts of situations are worth being concerned about or not.

in my fic outline i have loop joining the party after nille, so she’d find out at around the same time as everyone else, though i haven’t decided how that’ll happen exactly. but i think that even if the party knew first, they’d have to tell her before too long. it’s just too awkward/inconvenient/impossible to dance around it for the sake of one person not finding out when everyone else already knows, and it’s not fair to expect a kid to keep that kind of secret from their guardian. no matter how much loop doesn’t want anyone to know, i think they’d be very quickly convinced by “bonnie has been through a lot and been near a lot more, and they need to be able to talk with their sister about all of it, including you.”

[quarterlifekitty]

To add to my earlier ask about how I have more step-dad Nik, your add on was so good because absolutely. Yes. Sweet girl is too fucked out to ask about protection or to think of anything other than Nik fucking load after load into her. She also doesn't think to ask for protection the next day in the shower since Nik gets her so worked up with his mouth first. Makes her cum on his tongue at least twice before fucking a few more out of her and filling her again. Cleans her up too, happy to hold his sweet girl and bathe her. Now I don't know how but she manages to get Nik to let her leave a second time (Nik is getting a new house ready closer to her college so she can attend online schooling, he doesn't want her feeling stir crazy when she's further along after all) and about a month after getting back she finds out she's pregnant. And despite being absolutely terrified of the situation she doesn't want to get rid of it, or at least keeps putting it off out of nerves. She eventually asks Nik if she can come visit and he's like 'oh, I sold that house, too many memories with the ex, new house is much closer to you though, do not worry' and he picks her up. Hand on her thigh the whole way to his (their) new home. She tries to act normal and everything but Nikolai can tell his sweet girl is distressed and presses her for the reason. Eventually she caves and tearfully confesses she's pregnant and she's 'so sorry' that she was so reckless and that she swears she won't bother him with anything and she'll go and he doesn't have to worry about her. And Nik only smiles 'Ah, what makes you think I'm mad? Hmm? And on that note, what makes you think that I'm not going to keep my pretty girl right here where I can take care of her?' and while SD should definitely be nervous and the red flags should be waving she never had a great basis for healthy relationships and she is falling for Nik as ashamed as she was of it at first. She keeps asking him if he's sure and it gets to a point where he just picks her up and takes her to their bed to show her just how sure he is. Funny side note Nik fully shoots her mom a text with something like 'thanks for introducing me to my soon to be wife, you should expect grandchildren within a year. Don't expect to see them though.' (take any dialog I type as an idea of what someone says cause I'm ass at typing in character) Once again thank you for listening to my rambling

Bro please ramble here all the time forever. I love this and I owe you my life.

Nik sending his ex a picture— doesn’t have your face in it, but you’re wearing like the one piece of family jewelry you ever got from her side of the family. It’s got your baby bump, and his hand holding yours— got a pretty ring on it now, too. And then he blocks her <3

Also reader like 100% has daddy issues in this one. Like her mom is piece of work and her dad is completely absent for whatever reason— when was the last time someone took care of her? Probably back when she was physically incapable of caring for herself. From the moment she could dress and feed herself she was on her own. It’s why it’s so painfully easy for her to fall into things with Nik. After a life that kind of treatment, Nik’s brand of doting is like crack.

And I like to imagine, while she might not know this in a full conscious way, she wanted to keep the baby because she fully expected Nikolai to leave her. It’s what she’s used to— and it’s strange for her to depend on him so much when he’s just her former stepfather, no? She’s constantly second guessing herself about leaning on him even a little— that she’s probably bothering him, and he’s just too kind to tell her off. But she does love him. So things would be hard, to raise the baby on her own, but at least she’d have a piece of him with her. She could remember the moments they shared that way, even when he left her.

She’s in for the fucking, no, the lovemaking of a lifetime when she confesses that little tidbit to him.

(This is all just my humble onion as this story is yours lol but this is what goes on in my imagination realm)

[honeyflower-bellybower]

Poet Remus AU, Part 2

Sirius has never cared much for literature. Of course he's not ignorant in the field. He's read centuries of authors under severe scrutiny of his preceptor, and he's studied their lives and work. He's been taught to analyze, memorize, interpret. He can read Virgil in Latin, recite Dante by heart in Italian, discuss Voltaire in perfect French. But though he's never hated it exactly, he's never taken any particular interest in it either. He tends to find it either arrogant or boring. He rarely does any reading for personal enjoyment. In addition, Orion Black is famously passionate about the subject, and that's enough to provoke Sirius' scorn.

He keeps himself as separate from that environment as possible; he doesn't frequent any salons and avoids members of literary societies like the plague. That would be why he's never heard of that name before, Lupin, and the supposedly scandalous collection to his name. So, when it comes to gathering more information about the mysterious poet, all he can do is ask someone trusted.

Alright, perhaps trusted is not the right word to define his brother. But Sirius at least trusts that if anyone he can talk to would know about the latest developments in the penmanship trade, that's Regulus. Plus, Regulus wouldn't go telling their parents, at least not without reason. He tries to avoid altercation with them as much as possible; in fact, he mostly doesn't speak to them at all unless required to.

Sure enough, Sirius finds Regulus in the library, flicking distractedly through a gold-bound tome. The Bible.

"So, little brother. Have you finally decided to don the cloth then? Mother will be delighted."

The youngest Black brother looks up, mildly annoyed, and closes the book.

"You would be surprised, Sirius, that when you can read a good book is just a good book."

Sirius snorts and raises his hands. "Didn’t mean to insult your novel, there. Actually, I came to you for that exactly."

"Learning how to read?"

"Close. Reading advice."

"You want a book? Not as burning paper or door holder?"

"Very funny. But yes, darling brother. I’ve been thinking, you know, I might use some more… awareness, of our times. What’s brewing in this young century’s bright minds?"

Regulus' eyebrows twitch, unimpressed. "Mh, and what brought about such deep reflection? I thought you only cared you your bright mind."

"Why, thanks, little brother. I am bright. But, you see, even the brightest stars need the moon to make a night really shine. I need inspiration. New fuel. Where else would I get my brilliant ideas?"

Sirius can see it in his eyes, now, in his grimace, that Regulus is thinking of some of those most recent ideas. The practical jokes, the exuberant gestures. 'The ways he puts himself in ridicule', how his mother would put it.

"Oh, come on, Reggie. Anything interesting on the scene? What’s the latest phenomenon?"

Regulus sighs, but gets up from his armchair and walks to the shelves, contemplating. "…I would suggest Shelley’s A Defence of Poetry, but I suppose that’s a bit weighty for someone who’s never read a verse in their life. Moore is delightfully witty, but maybe too witty. Only for a sharp mind, I fear." Sirius bites his tongue. Oh, he sees what he’s doing. "If you’re after the latest phenomenon, you can’t go wrong with the Lake Poets. Don Juan is causing quite the stir—it’s scandalous, you should like it. Or perhaps something from Wordsworth or Coleridge, if you lean towards the sublime. Do you know the word?"

Sirius plasters a venomous smile on his face and plops in Regulus’ chair. "Dear, Reggie, did you have that prepared?"

"It just comes naturally."

Sirius flicks his hair over his shoulder. "Actually, I was looking for something more… particular. I’ve heard there’s been some ruffled feathers over of a very recent publishment. A poet, perhaps? Sound any bells?"

Regulus narrows his eyes. "…If you already know what you’re asking, Sirius, why don’t you just ask?"

"I want to read Lupin’s Moonlights. And his most recent work, whatever that happens to be."

Regulus’ eyes go wide in recognition. Then he scoffs. "So like you to only pick up a book to unnerve Mother and Father. Do you even know anything about him other than his reputation?"

"He has a reputation?"

Regulus shakes his head and sighs, as if disappointed in himself for even being surprised. "Remus Lupin has been the biggest controversy in clubs since Byron. Two years ago he published his poems, the Moonlights, under Dumbledore Publishing, and the company was nearly shut down because of it. There was talk of legal action, but in the end it was deemed acceptable, by narrow margin. Rumor had it the Chancellor’s wife was so fond of the poems he let the matter fall."

Sirius is enraptured. "But why? What was in them?"

"Oh, everything. For one, it’s clear as daylight that Lupin is an atheist. There’s nothing explicitly against religion, of course, but it’s obvious enough to anyone capable of critical reading. That, I believe, was what caused the major uproar. Churchmen were absolutely livid. But that's just scratching the surface. It’s seditious to the point of being anarchic. Not outright, mind you, but it might as well be. And to cap it all off, it’s rife with licentious imagery. Though, oddly enough, no one was particularly bothered about that."

At this point, Sirius can practically feel his hands spasming with want to read it. He's leaning so far forward he's barely sitting on the chair anymore. "How did it get published then? How did it not get banned?"

Regulus is infinitely relaxed as he states, "it’s good."

"That’s it? It’s good?"

"Correct. It’s so good everyone loved it. Only some people hated that they did. For every Count demanding suppression, a Countess was requesting a personal copy—and one for her friend. For every bishop warning his flock against it, a John Mill wrote an article on how everyone ought to read it. It was the bestselling publication of its year for Dumbledore and it even made it beyond England. The French adored it, as they do anything scandalous. Italians, too, though I believe mostly the poets. The rest can barely read."

Sirius feels astonished. This sounds false. Like an impossible story, a fiction. "Have you read it?" he asks, quietly.

Regulus is silent for a moment. Then, he moves to the far end of the library, towards his own desk, covered in papers and books. He opens a drawer, takes out a pile of journals, an ink box, an old newspaper, and finally, a small hardcover book. Regulus hands it to him. On the cover, purplish tinged leather, was printed a thin circle surrounded by tiny, black stars. At the top it said, in elegant, tall letters, The Moonlights, R. J. Lupin.

Sirius takes it reverently. He feels a hand over it, then looks at Regulus for confirmation before opening it. It's rare for them to share anything, and he can tell Regulus really loves this book. It's well kept, but it has clearly been read many times. The spine is wrinkly, though not cracked, because his brother is far too gentle to crack his books open. The pages are softened by frequent touch. Most importantly though, Regulus has written on them. Sirius knows Regulus hates 'ruining' his books. He likes them to stay pristine, as he’s found them. But sometimes he just can't help himself. He's a creative, even though he tries not to be. That’s why he fills all those 'journals', which Sirius is sure contain much more composition than actual information. When he reads something he really, really likes, and he has so much to say about it but no one to talk to, he starts annotating. Underlining. Commenting. This book is filled with comments.

"Blimey," Sirius whispers. "You loved it, didn’t you?"

"I told you," Regulus says. "Everyone loved it."

Read part 1 here

yeyy told you I was cooking! Actually I cooked a LOT more than this and I think I'll be posting little episodes like this as often as possible. I have the general drafts but I need time to write them out prettily hehe. Anyway, REGGIE IS HERE! I love him.

[weministertomonsters]

The Alien Emissary - 2

➤ Wordcount - 1.2k

You wake up startled because you fall out your bed. Well, not your bed. This isn't The Collective's mothership. You're in a cramped space, lying on a cramped cot. You recognize the interior to be the inside of the Vathri shuttle.

Right, I passed out.

You sit up slowly, rubbing your temple in an attempt to get the room to stop spinning. Your hand brushes against electric cuffs hanging loose on the wall. That must have been the restraints used on the Vathri you saved. You lift one and grimace at the thin metal prong on the cuff. For electricity to be effective on a Vathri it has to get to their skin, which is under a protective layer of armor-like scales. The prongs are designed to be forced underneath. You've always wondered if it feels like getting needles shoved under your nails, in which case it would hurt badly. When you stand up, you bump your head on the ceiling. Frowning you rub your sore head.

"This room is practically pocket-sized," you mutter. "How'd they even stuff him down here?"

"You are awake." The Vathri's voice floats into the room through the open hatch. "Come up, we are reaching our destination."

You climb up into the cockpit. The Vathri is seated at the controls, looking far more familiar with it than you did.

"How long was I out?" You ask, folding your arms and watching him work.

"A quarter of an hour. Not long." His voice still has that mysterious buzz in it. Rather than being eerie, you find it sort of soothing.

"Is that normal? It was like I was on a bad trip."

"I have never seen a human use the cloaking, but I am not surprised. Even Vathri young find it difficult on their first try."

You step closer and surreptitiously look him over. Thanks to their biological armor, the Vathri appear fully covered and often go around wearing loose pants and some jewelry, and not much else. He doesn't have either. When your gaze dips between his thick, muscular thighs, he snorts.

"Looking for the princess destroyer, I assume?"

The startled sound you make is hardly elegant before you burst out laughing.

"The what now?" You snicker. "I had no idea your kind could be funny."

"This is all a bid to lure you in," he replies, busy fiddling with the controls.

"I was just curious. Sorry." You clear your throat. "Have you… Heard about me?"

"You are certainly a blip on the gossip radar."

"Shit. Attracting attention is a surefire way to get killed," you grumble.

"Perhaps you should not have slept with the Emissary of Luscen then?"

You scoff. "The rumors are exaggerated. We didn't get that far. We got caught, as apparently, all of the galaxy knows. It was my first time in space and I was excited and optimistic and horny about everything."

The shuttle's engine grumbles and the Vathri croons to it. While his native tongue sounds harsh to your ears, you can pick out the intention behind it.

Come on, just a little further. You can do it, you little hunk of metal, you think.

"Csami? What does that mean?" You ask, picking out one distinctive word.

"Lady."

"Cute." You grab a hold of the armrest of the pilot's seat as the engine begins to stall.

Not a big issue. You can see the planet you're heading for up ahead and you're pretty sure you're going to make it, even if the landing is rough.

"That is the shuttle's name. Csami-kïy."

"Lady-8," you muse.

"You are taking Vathri lessons?"

"Yes, I love learning languages. Luscen was pretty easy and I'd say I'm conversational with it now. Vathri has some sounds I don't think I can produce, though, so my speaking probably won't ever be good."

"Tell me, are you not even a little afraid of me?" He suddenly asks, turning eyes that burn like small orange suns in your direction.

"Of what you are? No. That's what made me a good fit as an Emissary. I'm more curious than anything. As for your jailbreak, I feel like we're in this together. For now, anyway. Besides, I tend to trust my gut."

"And what is it telling you?"

"That we're cool. You might be trouble, but not for me."

The Vathri makes a noncommittal sound. "I see."

You look down at his wrists, searching for the abrasion from the handcuffs. It's right there. The smaller delicate scales on his wrist aren't sitting quite right, having been rudely shoved aside by the prongs on the cuffs. He doesn't turn away from what he's doing but he can tell you're looking because he angles the injury away from you.

"Does it hurt?"

"It's unpleasant. You might want to sit down," the Vathri says.

But there's only one seat, and in the sleek design of the interior, there's nothing much to hold on to. As he starts to nose the shuttle down, you grab a hold of his shoulder to anchor yourself and the warmth of his scales seeps into your fingertips. Brazen, maybe, but you like being in one piece. When you nearly fly off balance, he takes one hand off the controls for a second to perch you on the arm of the chair.

"Lean into me," he says. "The landing might be rough."

You do. The shuttle shakes so violently that you're surprised nothing falls off as you land in a puff of dust. Once the shuttle comes to a screeching halt you lift your head and unclench your jaw. There's an arm looped around your side and holding you in place, except both his arms are in front, so that's not possible. You look down to see that it's his tail. The tip of it ends in a stinger that looks like a cross between a blade and a barbed arrow. It looks deadly and your little animal brain immediately wants to touch it.

"Can that kill me?"

He pulls his tails away and it flicks lightly against his calf. "Not unless I intend so. Poison is manually generated, much like spitting on someone."

You file that information away for later. He unclips the seatbelt and stands. When he reaches for something over your head, you flinch a little. He looks down at you, his hand still raised over your head.

"I'm not afraid," you say quickly.

His mandibles twitch. Vathri faces don't really make expressions, but you can practically feel his amusement.

"Humans are easy to read," He replies.

And what's that supposed to mean? You think, but he's already ducking out of the exit hatch.

You realize he's bigger than the Vathri who first exited the shuttle. None of them had to duck. You're busy wondering if they were all small and he's just big when you walk right into his back.

"Oh, sorry-"

He's frozen, his tail flicking in an uneasy way that immediately affects you too. If something larger than you is scared, you're dead meat.

"What's wrong?" You peer around him to see a huge angry-looking alien storming down the landing towards you.

"Another of your enemies? You killed his family or something?" You squeak.

"I fucked his boyfriend."

"What!"

"Get back inside," the Vathri says without turning to you. "I am about to take a beating."

You don't need to be told twice.

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If you're wondering why I'm posting much slower right now it's because I've been busy on Patreon. You can read free stories on there that I haven't posted anywhere else, like Contents Under Pressure, Soft Heart, Bad Things and Vile And Vulgar (my favorite).