#thought that number would be higher tbh

[some-greatreward]

13 for the spotify wrapped thing ? :)

hi quinn !!

13

[sappymix1]

I forgot how much George he’s posted on his insta

total number of pictures dream has posted on instagram since the face reveal: 85

the number of those that have included/involved george: 32

number of posts he’s made: 19

number that have included george: 11

[thestripiestshirts]

Back when I was majoring in elementary education we had to do these presentations of lesson plans in which people went up and gave a lesson as if the rest of us were the elementary students they were teaching. This one guy's lesson was about the phases of the moon, and he very confidently did his whole lesson... explaining to us that the moon's phases were caused by the shadow of the Earth on the moon. At some point I finally couldn't take it anymore and raised my hand to explain that that's not how the phases of the moon were caused. I forget the presenter's response to this, but good number of people in the class got annoyed with me for "ruining it."

I used to be a grader and an occasional substitute prof for an introductory astronomy lab. That means that the majority of the people in this lab are only taking it because it’s a requirement and about half of them think it’s an astrology class.

I was grading midterms and this one girl. She was so nice and I think she was a business major. Fuck. The question on the midterm was to draw a diagram of the solar system and this poor girl. This fucking girl had drawn a Mars-centric solar system. As in every planet and the sun were orbiting Mars. I now actually have a custom Cards Againsy Humanity card I got at a con that says “A Mars-centric solar system”

I had a boy argue with me that there was liquid water on the moon (this was around when they had found liquid water on Mars in ~2015) and he wouldn’t believe me that he likely meant Mars and not the moon. After I marked his answer to the relevant lab question wrong, he took it to the department head who had promptly laughed him out of the office.

And there was another boy who, during a lab in our observatory where we would look at certain things in the sky, asked where the sun was. At 10pm in November. After some questioning it was revealed that he thought the moon and the sun were the same thing.

[muntitled]

𝐒𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 | 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐥 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐧

Hazel Callahan x F!Reader

Summary: "Jesus, dude, do you know what it means when a gay girl says they wanna have a "slumber party?"

Warnings: Hyper Feminine!Reader, Language, Fluff, Jealousy, Humor, Reader has a crush, Confessions, Teasing, Smut (+18, Minors DNI), Dom!Hazel, Humping, Grinding, Masturbation, Pillowprincess!Reader tbh, Thigh Riding, Public sex, Risky Sex, Massive Degradation Kink, Power Play, Ownership Kink?, Praise Kink, Slight!Hate sex ♡

Part two >

Hazel Callahan was rarely included into anything vaguely external, she would venture to say that she was even rarely included in her own thoughts. Therefore, infuriatingly, painfully aloof Hazel thought nothing of the invite you had presented to the entire group at Fight Club.

Why should she feel special?

Things like this seldom warranted her definite response, so when all the girls had affirmed their attendance, Hazel was... discombobulated to find a silence of anticipation growing pregnant in the gym.

It took a sharp stab in the ribs from PJ for Hazel to swing her head back into this specific reality in the space-time continuum. A reality in which you sat adjacent to her in a circle, legs crossed dainty underneath you to better accommodate the neatly pressed pleads in your pink skirt. There was nothing remarkably profound from you carrying yourself like the pretty princess you thought you were, what strikes Hazel as odd, however, was the look of expectancy in your dark eyes- a look you directed at… her?

"What?"

"You're coming? To my slumber party tonight?" you reiterate stifling the need to pat down at your braids corralled into a pink headband. You are basking under the scrutiny of her gaze but you also happened to suffer under it too. The longer Hazel watched you with furrowed brows, and her knee propped up to her chest, the longer you keened forward as if desperate to hear her say-

"Of course she's coming," PJ once again injects herself in between the two of you. "We'll all be there," You're perhaps nodding at PJ and Josie but your eyes are unable to leave the absolute prison that Hazel has them in. She does nothing except nod as well, before leaving you to your clique who all sit prettily under clouds of Chanel number 5.

The interaction replayed within the confines of Hazel's head throughout the rest of the school day. Right up until she finds herself, nestled in a car with Josie and PJ, taking the short drive in the more affluent neighbourhood from her place to yours.

"So, Hazel," the lascivious tone in PJ's voice already has her rolling her eyes as the car slows before an egregious house. "Are you ready to lose your virginity tonight?"

"Jesus Christ-" Murmurs Josie before PJ assumes what is expected to be your tone of voice- only its a hyperbolic and a higher in pitch reenactment of the real thing.

"Oh Hazel! I'd really like for you to come to my slumber party tonight!" All three girls leave the car as PJ continues her comedic display of seduction as she brushes up against Hazel and says "I really want you at my slumber party."

Hazel laughs as PJ grabs a hold of her upper arm, exposed from her open black button up and tank top. "You're coming right?" PJ sobers up as she says, "That's hot girl speak for "You're going to be cumming inside me-"

Josie does not keep her eyes off the approaching house as she interjects with, "Girls can't cum in other girls"

"Wow!" Hollers PJ, "-And here I was thinking you actually believed that girls can do everything that guys can do-"

"Wait," Hazel's eyes are on her shoes as she readjusts her tote bag and says, "You think she actually wants to like... fuck?" She lowers her voice drastically in the wake of making it up to your front door as she bends and reiterates, "Like actually fuck me?"

There is, frankly no time for Hazel to get a firm response on such a discombobulating thought because you quickly open the front door, and your skin is glowing everywhere from being completely exposed in your pink satin shorts and matching camisole set. Your hair is still loose as it frames your face- your round and constantly smiling face. Why had Hazel never noticed you until now?

Perhaps she did.

Perhaps she negated the possibility of forming a crush on you because you appeared so painfully… straight?

But here you are, smiling at her and only her. Your eyes had been bright at the sight of Hazel and her button up and how outrageously attractive she looked in a tank top but your smile dims significantly when you peer down at PJ'S hand still wrapped around Hazel's forearm.

"H-Hey," Said Hazel, with her voice that reminded you so vividly of a midnight snowstorm,

"Hey," you replied back, quickly turning away. Your mood had already been cemented for the rest of the evening. Despite it being your slumber party, you let your best friend host while you continued to wallow in the regret of your own unshakeable feelings. You hated that PJ and Hazel were very clearly a couple, but what you hated perhaps more, was that you still wanted her. You stole longing glances at her in your space, lazing on your bed while the rest of you sat encircled on the floor in sleeping bags. Hazel completely hijacked your entire brain throughout all the games and activities.

You had lost yourself in her presence and that only kicked up a notch when you felt a pair of forearms lazily splay onto your shoulders from above. With your bum still on the floor and your back against the foot of your bed, Hazel had decided to humour her turn in Truth or Dare. While she answered, she let her legs frame your body. So that it swung over the side of the bed, perfectly framing your sides.

Breathing had been impossible. So impossible in fact, you didn't know it was your turn until it took Hazel bringing her lips down to your ear. Your nerves had been shot to hell as she whispered, "Dove, it's your turn."

You cursed this idea and you cursed this wretched slumber party.

Luckily, It passed by in a significant blur that left you still riding on the high of being in Hazel's personal space until bedtime at 1am. While the girl's drifted into their own sleep, your eyes remained on the pink chandelier hanging from your ceiling while you cradled your stuffed frog to your chest. No matter how hard you try, sleep is a difficult thing to come by. You are left to your thoughts of the girl sleeping on the floor, while gentle snores sounded in the room.

"Fuck," you almost instinctively mutter as you find your hand drifting past your navel. You spread your leg ever so slightly before pushing your hand into your underwear. The quicker you came, the quicker your body could finally be allowed to slip into actual slumber. It sounded like a solid plan, and you had already taken to grinding your wet cunt against your hand- until it all went to hell and your duvet is being pulled slightly off of you.

You're quick to remove your hand and grab a hold of your covers as your eyes snap open to stare at the silhouette above you. Hazel's hair is a spectacular mess on her head and her skin shines orange from the glow of your salt lamp.

"Let me in," she whispers, not really waiting for a response before she's forcing herself into your covers, scooching you on the right side of the bed.

"What are you-"

"Shh," it's embarrassing, how quick you are to snap your mouth shut and heed her commands. Hazel's stomach warms significantly at how docile you are and she smiles as she says, "I cant sleep and I had the vague suspicion that you couldn't either." Hazel says, propping her exposed forearm under her head as she looks up at your ceiling. Her button up is discarded somewhere in the room, leaving her in basketball shorts and a tank but you're not complaining. Not at all.

"I told myself I'd be more intentional with my actions, and my actions are telling me to kiss you right now, but my feelings are telling me you might not want that." You're corraled into stark and naked shock as you watch the girl you've always wanted, confess to you in your bed. It feels unreal. The longing stares, the hours you've spent writing amatuer poetry in your notes app about her, the amount of times you made yourself cum with her heavy on your mind.

This does not feel real.

"Jesus," your voice is uncharacteristically coarse as you rush to say, "Dude, do you know what it means when a gay girl says they wanna have a "slumber party."

Hazel appears stunned as she watches you with wide eyes, "Well yeah," Says Hazel, "but… do you know what it means?"

"I've liked you since junior year," Your confession has her mind going hazy as she tries to recall all the subtle hints which she effortlessly discarded as you just being kind.

"God, you're such an idiot!" You release a chuckle that momentarily stirs a sleeping girl laying closest to the bed in her sleeping bag.

"Shh," Hazel's finger is pressed softly to her lips, you nod slowly only able to process mimicking her own actions.

"What were you doing just a second ago?" She says, swiftly removing the attention from her and her stupidity, replacing the atmosphere instead, with something much more dangerous. There's a difference in her whispers, a tone that has you melting into the covers as you unconsciously squeeze your legs shut. In this moment, she could ask anything of you, and you would simply comply. The silence stretches like honey between the two of you, and Hazel watches with doe eyes as you sink into your shame.

"You don't have to say anything." She finally whispers back, freeing you from your internal damnation but not completely letting you off the hook as she continues: "Just move your hips for me." It was an aggressively passive instruction that exploded a bundle of charged electricity between your legs. You are trapped in a distinctly uncomfortable position between wanting to comply, but wanting to be stubborn. The discomfort of these emotions are not entirely unwanted.

"Do you want me to show you how?" There is a challenging glint in her eyes that simulates the peroration of whatever the hell this is that you are both about to do.

This non-relationship which is so innately a relationship.

"Yeah." Your voice rocks with the signs of an oncoming tempest alerting your body to the possibility of something very, very exciting on the horizon.

Time and space seems so few and far in-between as Hazel keeps you arrested in those blue, endless hues. Examining her features keeps your wanton, unwinding nerves chaotically at bay. There is an intense exchange of control as Hazel shuffles closer, until her head is resting on your pillow and your both breathing into each other's parted lips.

She almost restlessly sets her palm onto your body, her hands on a slow path down your hips. It gives you a sliver of control knowing that bubbling behind her dilated pupils is a need that haunts her just as greatly.

"I'm gonna show you, okay?" She does not need to repeat herself but you recognize her words for what they are: masked behind the excitement and the charged atmosphere, is a real, and genuine need for consent.

The very moment you hopped over this threshold, you would forever be locked in a world anew. There would be no take backs. Your actions would forever be transcribed on the sacred tablet of our shared history.

"Are you going to show me, Hazel?" Desire is seated comfortably on top of your lungs and you speak only in soft pants, "Because it really feels like you're all bark and no bite."

There is a flash of excitement that sweeps momentarily over her lidded lustful gaze.

Her hands are much more sure of themselves as they lock into your sides, her fingers digging rudely into your silk pyjama bottoms.

"Shouldn't you be taking those off?" You ask cheekily.

A scoff slips through her lips as she shifts just a tad closer, her face now centimetres from yours. "You're awfully needy." Hazel whispers, "It's incredibly embarrassing."

What would prove to be even more embarrassing is the jarring way your hips stutter the very moment those words leave Hazel's lips. Your accidentally whorish slip up might have gone unnoticed were it not for the annoying fact that her right leg was seated quite cosily between your legs.

"Shut up," is all you manage to say - a desperate attempt at scrambling for your dignity crumbling in the bed between you.

Hazel laughs airly. Slowly, her hands at your hip begin to move, subsequently allowing your hips to move. A soft and slow moan passes through your lips, drowned out by the sound of sleeping girls as your eyes flutter shut.

"Hey," Hazel's lips are fully touching yours now, "Look at me." She could've never anticipated how the fucked out look in your eyes could ever make her feel. Your eyebrows are curved, as if you're in pain as you hump slowly against her thigh. The coarseness of the silk and her thigh pressing against your aching cunt… it makes everything feel so overwhelmingly real, unmarred by great expectations. The thump of her heart underneath your palm is so incredibly real. The beads of sweat growing pregnant on her forehead are real. Her dry, parted lips pressed against yours is in fact real.

"What are you thinking about?" It strikes you then that you had been a muddled, mindless haze, humping against her thigh with an urgency.

"I'm thinking about you." You reply, truthfully.

"Good things, I hope?" It is so unimaginable, the way her voice is able to remain so incredibly steady while yours is as shaky as a walrus thumping across an icy lake.

"I don't suspect anyone has ever had a single good thought about you." You shoot back and the fingers gripping your hips lock tighter, nearly prompting you to apologise.

The only other option left for you to exhaust is clamping your mouth shut as Hazel's hand assumed a much more aggressive administration. She grips on the plush skin at your sides with an unnecessary hardness, as if she wanted to tear in into you.

"See, I was gonna fuck you," it is absolutely shameful, the whimper that escapes your lips, "But now I'm gonna make you hump my leg like the slutty little girl you are." Before you could scold her, or perhaps violently disagree, rudely, before your cries of indignation could ever be forced out, Hazel is lifting you up from your side of the bed, her head shifting until her brown curls cover your pillow fully.

She turns onto her back, never releasing eye contact as she forces you down so you're straddling her steepled knee. The new position leaves you searching for a new anchor.

"Your hands are pushing down on my hair-" she grumble-whispers.

"If you'd let me finish faster that wouldn't be as much of a problem now, would it?" Hazel's response, in lieu of her thoroughly unimpressed face, had been to grind her thigh further against your core, eliciting a wanton, broken moan into the air.

"You're gonna have to be quiet, Dove." Her voice is gravel, "Wouldn't want anyone seeing how much of my whore you are, would you?" The sound of your own moans slam back into you as you press your pussy incredibly closer to her leg.

"Imagine what they might think of you? Our little star pupil getting herself off on my leg? Is that really all it takes to please you?" Staying quiet had become an unimaginable feat, a mountain that becomes even more difficult to surmount when Hazel's eyes search frantically over your crippling form for a trigger that might send you over the edge.

You couldn't begin to imagine how powerful she must feel watching your hips move wantonly on her thigh while your hooded eyes displayed desperation.

You feel so thoroughly hers, a previous existence in which you went without her hard ministrations guiding you to orgasm felt completely in vain. You want nothing more than to be so incredibly good to her, and the thought that she might want the same way sends you to an early grave.

"You're doing so well, Baby. Keeping going." An embarrassing wave of pleasure ripped straight through your spine leaving a trail of shivers in its wake. There is no mistaking that your reaction to her praise and her validation had not gone unnoticed.

Your pussy is completely soaked against her leg, burdened with the knowledge that it wants something but it didn't exactly know what.

"I need you," you whisper. Before your own shame might wave away the pleasure, you are delighted at the moan that slips through Hazel's parted lips.

You had been so thoroughly enamoured by your own pleasure, you had not stopped to consider hers. The pillow princess stereotype brought with it a wave of shame as you looked down and found her hips stuttering slowly against yours.

"I'm right here, Dove."

And you both began to melt for each other. Your legs are tangled in one another while her thigh is pressed against your clit at the same time your thigh is pressed between her legs as well.

You are pleasantly surprised when you begin to feel the fabric of Hazel shorts moving against your own legs slotted in between her. You didn't have to picture how gloriously lecherous it might have looked, using each other so blatantly to fulfil a need that had begun simmering since forever. "Oh fuck, you're so pretty," her hand finds purchase against your breast, tweaking your nipples until they hardened against the camisole while her other hand was comfortably gripping your jaw, staring up at you with lustful eyes.

"You don't even know how perfect you look right now," you did not speak a word of a lie. Watching Hazel's long and domineering form writhing underneath you is a mental image you wish to keep stored in your chest of sacred memories forever. It is discombobulating, watching someone so used to walking so tall and unbothered, being made a complete mess underneath you.

You never wanted this moment to end.

"I want you to kiss me." She croaks, despite already bringing your face close to hers by the strength of a single grip. Her eyes search yours for something. You only hope that grinding yourself even faster against her leg is a testament to whatever it is she might've been looking for. Soon, her lips crash onto yours. When Hazel Callahan kisses, she kisses sloppily and disastrously as if she wanted to swallow you whole before you ever thought of escaping. Her lips are all encompassing, her tongue is restless, pushing itself into your mouth with avid determination.

You moan softly into her mouth. A sound she appreciates greatly given the way her hips began to move against your thigh with a matching ferocity. Her hand slithers along your back, until she cups a handful of your ass, dragging your pussy once again against her, at her desired pace.

Rough. Arresting. Frantic.

"You're being too loud," She sighs, breaking away from your lips to trail them down your neck. "You're being too fucking loud-"

"Fuck, Hazel I'm close-" Your legs are locked against hers but the hand on your ass keeps your hips moving by proxy. "I'm so close."

"You're gonna cum for me, Dove?"

"Oh God, I love it when you call me that-" There is an embarrassing pool of wetness accumulated between your legs, dripping through your shorts and onto her skin. She is equally as wet and that fact only spurs you on.

"I need you to cum for me, baby?" Her stuttering hips told you her own release is dangerously close, sitting on the horizon. Perhaps your orgasm had bled into something prideful, her need to make you cum first caused her to delay her own release.

"You're fucking unbelievable." You sigh with troubled realisation.

She uncovers herself from your chest, panting heavily without her hips ever stopping. "You're gonna cum first, okay?" She nods, persuading you to mimic her movements because despite everything, you are putty in her hands.

"Okay."

As she kisses you once more her hand travels back to your now exposed boob. Between your kiss, Hazel had somehow managed to haphazardly lift your camisole enough to expose your breasts.

A straggled sound leaves the back of your throat as your orgasm crested.

She succeeded in making a mess of you. Your hair had been set free, braids spilling like wild snakes down your torso.

"Oh God, oh fuck-" a hand slaps over your mouth. Hazel's eyes are wide as she continues to guide your hips to release.

"Such a good little Dove, aren't you?" Your eyes are blown with stars and pixie dust as you nod drunkenly. She's humping your thigh and you're humping hers and soon the orgasm sneaks up on you, stealing your breath right from inside your lungs. Your strangled moan is muffled by her palm.

Her eyes take it all in with a very certain hunger, drifting from watching her own hips grinding your thigh, to the choked expression of utter euphoria splashed against your face.

"Fuck, baby." Her Eyebrows knot as her breathing picks up. The pressure visibly building across her face is nearly enough to send you back into your pool of euphoria.

"Oh fuck- oh baby," The wave of pleasure that courses through her is violent and incredibly validating. It is you who had gotten her to this point, humping your leg so desperately as if it might be the only thing she could ever hope to achieve. For someone who had built such a notable reputation for always mainting an I-dont-give-a-fuck mentality, this feels like an immense achievement for you.

Once the smoke clears, and Hazel finds herself back on planet earth, the relics of her euphoria register as intermittent aftershocks. The dawn of what you had just done begins to settle and almost instinctively, you revert to your teasing.

"How nice of you to finally join us," you are still hovering above her, her long neck craning to look at you.

"You talk a lot of shit for someone who squeaks when she cums."

The dampness between your legs is a reminder. "You're gonna learn to take just as much as you give sooner or later," You don't miss the hint of a promise thinly veneered along that whisper. Choosing to ignore the fluttering in the pit of my stomach at the sound of it alone, you climb off of her and back to your space on the bed.

"What's its name?" Hazel asks, peering into the darkness to bring your stuffed frog back into your arms. "You strike me as someone who gives their stuffed toys names."

You're still out of breathe as you reply, "Texas,"

She cracks a smile at that. Before you can finally drift off, a hand slips across your hip, trailing over your torso before brushing over your breast and staying there. "I'm gonna buy you one...I wanna watch you hump it like you just did my leg okay?"

All you're able to do is nod.

[rosenclaws]

Baker Logan headcanons

a/n: I'm bored and got baker Logan on the mind sooooo. Here's my thoughts on baker Logan. Gonna have some spicy thoughts too hehe.

Logan needed a job and money bad. He wasn’t exactly the kind of guy to be working a 9-5 either so he really had to take odd jobs at weird hours. Like security for higher or a bouncer for night clubs

One night on the way home from his bouncer gig he sees a bakery loading up their inventory. It’s like 4am and he’s wide awake. The owner, an older lady who he later learns is named Zelda, was clearly struggling to load the heavy bags of flour and sugar.

Now Logan doesn’t consider himself a nice or even good guy but he sees someone in need of help and his protective instinct just takes over. He goes over and helps the lady. Taking multiple bags in at a time.

When she tries to offer him money he declines. So she offers him a job instead. To have someone like Logan would be a massive help. He doesn’t really see himself as a creator of anything tbh.

He destroys he doesn’t bake bread. But the pay is good and the hours fit his weird sleep schedule. Plus he gets to take home free bread.

He would be so hot 😩. Messy hair, flour on his face. A tight tshirt that shows off all his muscles. Him being a little hot and sweaty from all the work…anyways

Okay so Logan is NOT a people so he is never in the front of house. He doesnt do orders and he sure as hell can’t stand customers.

But one day Zelda who normally ran the front bad to step out for an hour and Logan had to play both front and back. It was a cold rainy day and the bakery was pretty dead after the usual morning rush.

Then you walk through those doors. Logan barely glances up when he hears the jingle of the door. Having to take a double take as he sees such a pretty face in front of him.

Your lips were formed into this perfect pout while you wrestled with your umbrella. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

He keeps his cool when he takes your order but he can’t help but smile hearing your laugh. Small talk is normally torture but with you he didn’t mind it.

He totally gives you a pastry for free btw. Claims its a promotional thing but he's so lying. The promotion is buy a drink and get a free pastry if Logan thinks you're cute.

You come back on a pretty regular basis after your first time. Is it to sneak a look at Logan? Yes. Yes it is. He does the same thing anyways. He checks the cameras and happens to sneak out of the back and telling Zelda that "He can take this one."

Ofc Zelda clocks Logan's crush immediately. She has been around for a long time it takes her all of two seconds to see the heart eyes Logan has for you. He gets all soft and he smiles more. She makes comments about it but Logan denies them.

The longer he works for Zelda the more he learns about baking and expands from bread into more sweet things like cake and cupcakes.

He always gives you free treats and samples from the things he's working on. He swears its because they're not good enough to sell or he made too many and he needs to get rid of them but at the start he fully pays for them once you leave.

Eventually Zelda has had enough of Logan pining like a school boy at his old ass age and decides to do something about it. The next time you come in she fully interrogates you about your love life and hyping up Logan.

He's such a sweetheart and he's so strong and handsome. She would tell you after asking if you're single and looking lmao. Shes just a sweet old lady you can't not answer her. She will deadass get your number for Logan.

Okay but her real plot is saying she's offering baking lessons to help with the store (she's not) and the first lesson is free. So she gets you to sign up and tells you to come after hours one night.

Then she goes to Logan and says there's a new trainee who needs help learning the ropes and her knees have been really bothering her lately and asks Logan to teach the trainee this one time.

When you both show up Logan and you realize you've been set up lol. Its cute and awkward when you both realize it. But Logan decides to teach you anyways. The two of you making cupcakes. He would stand behind you and hold your hands to teach you how to pipe frosting onto the cupcakes.

He then offers private baking lessons and the only payment he asks for is a date and it takes you all of 2 seconds to say yes.

some random spicer headcanons below lol

Imagine making out in the back of the shop. Like you're on the counter and he's in-between your legs because he can't keep his hands off of you. His lips are everywhere they can reach and you just never want it to end.

Okay but during your baking lessons he tells you that you have to wear all black and he does too but the real reason is because he likes to see his handprints on your clothes in flour. Specifically the big hand prints on your ass lmao.

Him letting you draw with frosting on his abs but the deal is you have to clean it up and you loveeee cleaning it up.

[milkywaydrabbles]

*whispers* number 9, breeding with adrian tepes

A/N: screaming into the wilderness Alucard wants a baby so bad he fr goes crazy I hope you enjoy this little drabble!

CW: smut, mating press, pet names (love, sweetheart), breeding, talk of pregnancy, just filth tbh

"F-fuck, Adrian, wait pl-please...!" You panted, clawing at his biceps. Alucard had you in a mating press for the last three rounds, your pussy squelching with the mix of both your cum. He couldn't think of anything else except you. Seeing you bouncing Trevor and Sypha's baby boy on your lap, tickling his sides and smooching his face has Alucard seeing hearts in his eyes. And then he went feral. All he could think of after that was you round with his children. The rest of the visit was a blur, he couldn't concentrate on anything except stuffing you full.

"Darling, you would be such a good mother" hepractically growled, hips slamming into yours. He wanted to be inside you as deep as possible, focusing on force instead of speed. "Want you full, want you stuffed" Alucard dipped his face closer to you, kissing your neck as he kept a steady pace. You clenched around him, eyes rolling back as you continued to scratch his arms. "Do you like that, sweetheart? Do you like the idea of being full of my seed?" You whimpered, clenching again. You nodded, cock drunk. You couldn't lie, the thought of starting a family with Adrian has always been on the back of your mind, but you weren't sure if he would feel ready for that. But now, seeing him so desperate to breed you–you couldn't help but moan out as he continued to pound into you. 

Alucard pushed a bit higher up on your thighs, knees practically at your ears. He lifted himself up higher, biting down on his lip as he fucked into you. His cock was making a mess inside of you, his tip nearly kissing your cervix. He was panting, looking wild above you. Just hearing you little ah, ah, ahs coming out of your mouth had Alucard practically drooling. 

"A- Adrian, please, make me a mother" you moaned out, Alucard biting down on your pulse point. Now it was his turn to whimper—hips stuttering for a moment before continuing fucking into you. "Need to keep you filled with my cum" he growled, nails biting into the backs of your thighs. He pumped into you one, two, three more times before filling your cunt to the brim with his cum for the fourth time this evening.

The two of you stayed silent, outside of the pants from the both of you, until you spoke. "Adrian, what has gotten into you?" You breathed a laugh, eyeing him up. He at least had the decency to look bashful. "Sorry, love, you just looked so good with children, couldn't really control myself" he murmured, feeling himself harden inside you again.

"I just need to give you one more, let's really have a baby yeah?" 

It was going to be a long night.

[hiraethwa]

how to kill a god

four from <the collection — how to kill a god>

pairing. gojo satoru x reader

cw. special grade sorcerer!reader, rivals/enemies to lovers, mentions of death and borderline suicidal thoughts, messy relationships, smidge of teasing, learning to cope with losing suguru with each other tbh

wc. 3.2k

in the wake of loss, all we had was each other.

it’s another five weeks before gojo attempts to talk to you, giving you a wide berth and plenty of space to yourself after how his last conversation—argument with you went. 

you had healed up rapidly in the days that followed, regaining your strength and mobility at an inhumane speed that surprises even shoko, who chalked it up to the massive amounts of cursed energy that your body generated from the emotions that flooded you after finding out about what suguru—geto did. 

he sees it too, even if he has not seen you in person. his six eyes see plenty of you, the shape of your cursed energy output that you struggle to regulate, involuntarily aware of where you were at all times, the burning bonfire of cursed energy too tall to ignore. 

you disappear from school grounds despite orders from the higher ups to keep you confined within the parameters of jujutsu high, returning drained every night, and he presumes that you have been out looking for geto. 

no one is chancing their necks to stop you. he could only imagine the cold murderous look in your eyes that sends everyone running away from you. 

gojo does not blame you, he would have done the same if he were in your shoes. 

and despite the way things were between you, he feels a strange pride at your determination, unflinching in the face of the rigidity of jujutsu society. 

he wishes he had done things differently, said things differently, that last time he had seen geto. then perhaps everything could have been different. 

yaga had given him a good scolding for not complying with orders and stopping you, but what is disobeying another stupid order from the know-it-all’s? 

he has the gojo name on his back, an image to protect, not that he gives a rat’s ass about it, but his hands are bound either way. on the other hand, you could do anything you wanted, and what could they do about it, except send him after you? he had only laughed at them. 

deep down, he secretly wishes that you are able to change geto’s mind, talk him out of his ridiculous notion and bring him back. even if the higher ups protested staying his execution, there is nothing they could do if gojo refuses to kill him. 

it seems that both you and him are out of luck, considering the fact that you have been pacing out in the cold for the fifth night in a row, your cursed energy a bright flickering flame that is impossible to miss. 

“burning extra energy before bed?” he steps out into the brisk air of the courtyard where your footsteps are imprinted in the snow, overlapping from the sheer number of footprints that have disturbed the fresh layer. 

you don’t even bother to look at him, having felt his presence moving towards you within the barrier that you kept up. 

your cursed technique lapse, similar to gojo’s, allows you to extend the boundaries of your innate technique from your own body to a larger range, encompassing a certain radius with you as the center. 

devour takes care of the rest, absorbing cursed energy from a selected area, human, or curse over time. the caveat being you could only select one target at a given point in time to absorb from, leaving you vulnerable in combat when you absorb attacks meant for other sorcerers. 

you do so sparingly anyway, since gojo no longer needed you to shield him—which begs the question of why his clan bothered to go to such lengths to break and shape you into his shadow.

besides being able to absorb cursed energy from this invisible boundary, you could also sense and differentiate cursed energy signatures that move within it. perfect for hunting down one geto suguru and demanding an explanation from the man himself for this nonsensical mess.

except he is able to discern your cursed energy from the technique and flee before you could catch up to him, and frankly, you tire of the cat and mouse game that has been going on for weeks. 

“you sound like you know it.” you throw back at him, frustrated at the foolishness of the entire situation. what is suguru thinking?

shoko had talked to you about her encounter with suguru, and the fact that he bothered to speak to her and gojo, but not you, makes you want to kill someone. 

it was mostly relief in the days following your regaining of consciousness. relief that gojo is alive and suguru is unharmed, your defensive mechanism pushing your own encounter with fushiguro toji to the back of your mind, filed away with other unimportant things. 

and then this. this nonsensical situation that you cannot make any head or tail of. 

it has your cursed energy running rampant from the different emotions that afflict you. 

“did you see him?” you shake your head, clenching your shaking fists by your side.

normally, his questions would make you bristle, as does every little thing he does. normally, you would not deign to give him an answer, try to pick a fight with him. you can’t remember a time when you were not fighting, but it wasn’t always this way. 

it had started out this way as teenagers, with him being unable to stand you, always trying to be the one who wins. but there was a time when you almost understood each other, when he almost wiped out the elders for you. 

gojo had posed a threat to the clan elders, and they decided that you were becoming a detriment to their control, sending you away from the main estate. 

away from satoru. 

and then everything changed. you changed. so did he. 

but it wasn’t always this way. 

“it seems that he deigned to speak to everything but me.” you swallow thickly, “he is avoiding me. every time i sense him, he escapes my range before i can get there.”

“maybe it is better that way.”

“you can’t possibly be serious. of all people, i deserve to see him, hear him explain himself at the very least.” you breathe shakily, “i need to. i deserve an explanation, something. anything.” because i don’t know what to do otherwise. did he ever loved me?

“if you want to kill me, then kill me. that’s what he said to me.” his throat bobs, “brushed off the lives he took like it was nothing. the things he said…” he shakes his head, “it wasn’t like him at all, and i know it isn’t, it is his ptsd taking over. i don’t know if seeing him now would give you any kind of resolution.”

“he was the best of us.” hot tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, your angry fist swipes across them, drying them with your sleeve. “where do we even go from here?”

without him, the best of your souls, where do you go?

he stays silent, unable to answer your question, for he himself does not know it either, hadn’t had the time nor the space to even think about it. because if he slowed down, if he stopped for more than a second to think about life after geto… he might not be able to keep going while keeping himself intact.

it would mean that he has to come to terms with the reality of a future without geto in it, and the enormity of it, the loneliness of it, makes his knees buckle.

“it’s oddly unsettling when we are not at each other’s throats.” you clear your throat, changing the topic, pushing your feelings to the back of your mind, next to the pile of unprocessed events that was collecting dust and spiders. “i can’t remember a time when we aren’t.”

“you give yourself too much credit, there’s plenty of time when…” he trails off, racking his mind for such instances. oh. there really isn’t, is there? “well, this is nice too, isn’t it?”

“perhaps you should go back to yelling at me. it’s really disconcerting when you are being civil to me.” 

“oh gods, you’re so dramatic.” gojo groans, smile twitching at his lips as blue eyes meet gold ones. 

you look away first, as a thought crosses your mind that you wish didn’t. “do you regret it? walking away from suguru when i got here. maybe you could have saved him. maybe he didn’t love me as much as–”

your words must have come out wrong, for he stiffens out of the corner of your eye. 

his voice is harsh, heavy turned light atmosphere returns to being tense as he interrupts you. “he didn’t want to be saved.” it was too little, too late.

and yet, you could not fathom it. the desperation and darkness that compelled him to do what he did, and for what? a world with only sorcerers? for what? 

you could only see pieces of what he must have gone through, relying on your imagination to fill in the large swaths of blanks with what others had told you, which was a whole lot of nothing. 

knowing nothing of what had occurred in his fight against fushiguro, nothing of his struggles afterwards, nothing to go off of except what you knew about suguru, and these days, it feels as if you did not know him at all. 

your suguru who believed in protecting the weak as the order of society. this geto who massacred in his village, including his parents. 

the puzzle only falls apart when you try to add logic to it.

the next time he sees you, it is in your dorm room. 

your question continued to haunt him long after he walked away from you. the possibilities are endless and too uncomfortable to ponder, 

shoko had practically dragged him here, and upon meeting your eyes, he understood why she reacted with such urgency. 

you are alive and unharmed but your eyes—desolation lives in them.

he wonders what had happened, what figurative door had been slammed shut, or open, but he does not get a chance to speak before you do.

“i went to the temple.” the temple, the one that suguru left you all for. he detests that place so, finding himself wishing that he had razed that forsaken place down when he had the chance. 

“there were two girls, maybe five or six years old, waiting for me. said that suguru had been expecting me but sadly had something else to attend to, that he left a message for me.” your voice sounds raw, as if you had screamed your lungs out. “he wants me to forget him.”

you chuckle, an unhinged laugh that teeters on the edge of your sanity. “apparently they were orphans, so he took them in from the village he massacred, not that the girls knew what he did, but the time and place match.”

he sees it now, the devastation, the implication written between the lines—he loved you, but not enough to stay, not more than the two orphans he just met. 

for a split second, he thinks he might lose his own shit too. but if he breaks now, there would not be any coming back for the two of you. 

your uncontrollable laughter chokes into hysterical sobs, each and every one of them gut wrenching on its own. 

it’s all he could do as he gathers you in his arms, keeping you tethered, holding your world together as you fall apart. 

he wishes suguru loved him enough—trusted him enough to have done the same. 

the third time he sees you, he teleports to you out of sheer panic. 

he had been keeping tabs on you since your meltdown, and the moment his six eyes sensed something wrong with you on your mission, he went to you without sparing another thought. 

the scene before him stops him dead in his tracks, heart racing in his chest, hands reflexively forming gestures to release blue stops midair as he realizes he is powerless to save you from the special grade curse that has you in its stranglehold.

because you are in the direct line of fire. 

gods, what the fuck are you doing? the special grade should not have a leg up on you. and you, your eyes are closed, as if—fuck. as if you allowed it. 

“what are you doing?” he can only hope his voice carries over the wind, assisted by infinity. 

only you can save yourself. gojo is getting sick of this constant theme in his life, this stupid lesson that the universe is trying to teach him, forcing him to stand by helplessly and watch while the people close to him choose whether they want to be saved. 

your eyes fly open, registering his presence, remembering your mission. right. 

gojo watches in disbelief and a tiny smidge of wonder as a sphere falls over you and the curse, enveloping you in molten gold. a domain expansion?

the wait lasts all of a few seconds before the reflective bubble dissolves with you landing on your feet deftly. he has to admit that he is more jealous than worried for you at this point. 

“when were you going to tell us that you can cast a domain expansion?” his voice sounds accusatory, with too much awe that you are unworthy of. 

“i don’t want to talk about it.” you had once hoped that your domain expansion is something good. something that creates instead of destroying like you were taught to. 

but it was born out of a need for vengeance, your domain expansion, the image of a corrupted and twisted version of heaven. instead of healing, it just takes and takes and takes.

fine, fine. if space is what you need, then he will give it to you. he teleports you back to the school grounds, to shoko to heal your injuries and adjust your makeshift healing on the battlefield.

the image of the curse trapping you in its grasp stays with him though, nagging at him from the back of his mind for attention. he gives in to himself on the walk back towards the dormitories.

“what was that back there? you overpowered the curse easily enough, how did it manage to get you in its hold?” 

you glance away, out to the snowy courtyard. “next question.”

“we need to talk. shoko is worried about you.” he catches your wrist easily, worry taking over his rationality. “you have been returning from missions bloody and battered. missions that should be a piece of cake for you.”

“just reminiscing about our childhood years.” your answer sends him reeling.

his throat bobs, knowing well what your life was like before high school, “that makes it worse.”

“i’m tired, gojo.” you whisper. the ends of the hallway stretch in both directions, both feeling out of reach.

“then rest, i will take care of your missions.” gojo refuses to let the matter rest, stubbornly blazing ahead. he has seen this scene before, and it did not end well. he should have pushed harder.

“you know that’s not what i meant.” 

“then what did you mean? you want to take the easy way out and die, is that it?”

“maybe. not exactly.” you hesitate, fingers twitching in anxiousness, “i don’t know anymore. life feels like wading through sludge and i am sick of being lost with no end in sight.”

“then talk to me, we will work through it. i am not giving up on you.” for the briefest moment, you wonder if he sees suguru in you. 

“it’s not your responsibility to fix me” just like it was not your fault that suguru could not be saved. but gojo stiffens, pulls you into his arms, engulfing you in a tight embrace, fingers weaving between strands of your hair, cradling the back of your head softly.

“i can’t lose another friend.” his voice is quiet, barely loud enough for you to hear if you were not pressed up against him, chin on his shoulder. you feel the movement as he swallows shakily and says in a thick voice, “if you don’t have anything left to live for, then live for me.”

a selfish, selfish request, considering you are to die for him, but if it were to save to you, then—

you puff out a breath of air, hands rubbing his back soothingly, the roles reversed for a brief moment as the arrogance hinting behind his words makes you smile slightly, “you’re an arrogant bastard, you know that?” 

“only the best.” 

gojo withdraws from the hug, sniffing and shifting his sunglasses. you couldn’t see his eyes in the dark, but you knew that there were tears brimming on his eyelines. 

“you need anything, you know where to find me.” 

“mhm, even if i need to be tucked into bed?”

“it would be your honor to have me tuck you into bed and chase away your nightmares.” he sticks his tongue out at you.

you roll your eyes jokingly in response, feeling the heaviness on your shoulders become lighter with the knowledge that he stands by you as you walk back to your room. 

this boy you grew up with, who never saw eye to eye with you, and yet the one who is the closest anyone has ever come to understanding you—ironically also the reason for the ordeal you were subjected to by the gojo clan that made you lose hope in living.

without him, you would have never met suguru, would have never felt the warmth of his soul that wrapped around you and coaxed you back ashore, would have continued to drown in the depthless oceans of your power. at least then you would not be missing him, feeling like a piece of your heart had been carved out, leaving hot blood gushing from the hole in your chest. 

the breath of air above the surface had saved you then, but now it dooms you to a life knowing what freedom tastes like, knowing there is no going back—that this is where you belong, lost in the endless void of your power. 

the history that weaved your paths together, intertwined with complex braidwork branching out through the course of the world as you know it, is full of mirrored knots filled with contradiction, too complicated to ever undo the haunting beauty painted in blood. 

but… friend. gojo called you his friend despite everything that stood between you.

you chuckle to yourself, calling out to him over your shoulder before the door swings closed behind you, “you have a very odd definition of friends, gojo satoru.”

you miss the drop of his jaw at your words, the stilling of his body for a few seconds as he catches himself and a smile creeps its way onto his pale features.

and maybe, maybe you were both going to be alright.

a/n. this took a hoooooot second, but here we go <3 time to get going

awaiting updates? browse the library while waiting

if you liked this, please consider leaving a like, comment, rb or ask <3 (perhaps i enjoy breaking hearts a little too much)

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[that-smallinjured-bowylamb]

@water-blue Continuation for

🪽Heart of compassion, loyalty🪽

Gender Neutral

Summary: You are Loud and boisterous, yet you are kind, caring and incredibly loyal. Sometimes you say things as a slip-up, but you've always apologized first, you were even willing to help those even if they're cruel, you were forgiving, willing to understand others, and even stand your ground if things were too much for you. Don't worry, no one is going to take your heart of gold for granted.

Characters: Malleus Draconia, Idia Shroud

Genre: platonic or Romantic nothing rlly matters

Warning ⚠️: Spoilers for book 6 and 7 (I think I should keep it vague), Slight angst, lots of emotional talk (if you see me getting emotional in these writes and kinda relating to them, no tf you did not), Idia screeches higher than a girl's whenever he sees you, mentions of social anxiety, isolation, fear of loss, fear of connection, and blah, blah, blah, depression, Idia is secretly my kinnie (but shh), Malleus is my son-in-law (<- his father wish he could kiss me/j), idk what else to add here, OOC(?), idk I'm projecting in here if you don't mind, maybe cussy(?), use of "you."

Note: This took so long for me but it's okay I had fun !!! Honestly, Idia hits me a bit more harder than Mal's (bc I ain't fae) but tbh both r so real :( !!!!

Idia Shroud

Before overblot:

•When he first saw you in the ceremony, he kinda crashed-out (You remind him of Ortho in a way) but, never lingered on it for too long. He always thought you brought trouble whenever and that scares the shit out of him.

•So when the time he had heard your first encounter with an overblot, he was interested. How can someone like you manage to defeat an overblot? But, he couldn't help but feel... intimidated. It's like you're emotionally strong, not in a "I'm emotionless and you can't hurt me" way, more like "I can express my feelings, better than being emotionally constipated" way. So, naturally, he'll avoid you as well.

•But one by one, the number of overblots this year had increase abnormally in school campus, and as a Shroud, he needed to do research. And, decided it was a great idea to kidnap them without warning. What he did not expect, was that you would come along too.

•No, no, no, no, nonononononononono- Stop it. Don't. You're doing the same thing you've done to the rest of them. No, you remind him of someone. Someone long ago, someone he cares- deeply cares- for. Just...Why? Why do you act like him? Sound like him? This- he thought he escaped it.

•This wasn't meant to happen, none of it is. Why are you here? Why do you remind him, he can't do anything? WHY does he feel useless? Whatever went wrong?? He just wanted a place- a place where he and his brother could belong, where, he and Ortho could belong- but, you had to take it away- why? There was no point, no point in staying alive if you die in the end. He was afraid of these people- afraid they'd judge him for the way he speaks, the way he talks about his interests, and the way he exists in life. He's scared of reaching out, he hates getting attached, he hated it when he couldn't talk to others from years of isolation. Damn it, damn it, damn it!- "You'll learn to let go of the past, Idia. Your brother will be much happier if you at least think for yourself." No, no. Your dragging him, aren't you?- that's... if thats..

•If that's his brother wants, would he be disappointed in seeing his older brother like this? Believing in someone whose life already departed? Still clinging to the painful memory because it was the last memory his precious one was in it?

•He was scared. Scared to make connections with people who will one day leave him, forget him. Scared by the judgemental eyes of the public, Scared because of the people he thinks are better than him. But, if you really think he can still get the chance to heal, not instantly but surely. Then, he'll try to reach out to you.

After overblot:

•Everything had gone back to normal, like how it always goes. There's peace, unraveling chaos, and then peace again. You, who were ever so helpful and bright like a certain person from school *looks at Kalim* it rlly scares him yk? So- like- whenever, he sees you...?

•He fucking screeches and bolts off. Man's terrified of extroverts /j but srsly, it's scary when you know the right words to alleviate his feelings, wdym he's not trash and he's just defining himself in a false perception??? Man, you terrify him. But, it's okay. You saved him anyway... but he never thought he'd deserve it, though...

•Little by little, he goes outside whenever you asked (and the help of a sentient robo, Ortho!!! :D) and although he can't, exactly communicate with them properly without sounding like a geek, he does have you for help.

•You one time had a slip-up, but made up for it, he had to sulk for a week (month).

•Like that one meme between the friendship of an introvert and an extrovert :3 !!! Your company is nice... even if one day you'll have to leave and forget him too... but as you say, "leaving is always a part of life."

•Yeah, your WAYYY mature than him, damn.

•He likes inviting you over to play games, even at first he'd sound nervous, but eventually? He gets (kinda) used to it. It felt nice, having someone to talk about your interests with, how his friend makes life a bit more aspiring than he would've expected to be, a friend that cared for others with a deep sense of loyalty, and being considerate enough to try to understand your burdens...

•Yeah, it feels nice, like REAL nice. Not in a weird way, just more of a...Comfort space? Ah, well, it's going to be much more harder for him to open up his bottled feelings, but he's getting to it.

Malleus Draconia

Before overblot:

•He always wondered in isolated places, and admiring the gargoyles that surrounded the architecture, he never thought that someone would spot him, like you. You were an interesting child of man, you're magicless, with no documentation, nor a cent to your name. You were a mystery. And yet, despite having nothing to your being, you weren't afraid of him, like the rest. When he had first met you, before the spell drive incident, he thought you'd be scared upon seeing him.

•But no, you didn't run away, in fact, you had the gall to ask the prince of the night, who he was and what he was doing here. It was a fond memory he couldn't have simply gotten rid of. But, the day you found out his true identity? You've stayed, despite his status finally being known. He finally made a friend, now he couldn't just merely shrug you off, after all. You were his first, and he wouldn't trade that for anything. (<-not like wouldn't have everything already)

•So, imagine to his surprise you'd ask, "Do you wander in isolated places hoping someone would search for you? Not for reason, but for you?" He paused and thought about it thoroughly. He could tell that you knew he was lonely, he hadn't had any friends during childhood due to his power and status as heir. And the only heir at that. So, most of the time, he was lonely and had no one to play with. He didn't know what it felt like to have a normal childhood, only isolation (hmm, something similar?), and studies to be heir.

•Imagine his surprise now that you've told him, "I think I found the way back to my home." [<- slip-up :>] You, had done it? Did you find a way back home? After he told you his background, the loneliness, yearning for the feeling of warmth from a father or a mother, the isolation caused by his power and name alone, all that, just for you to tell him you had a way back home? Where he can't reach you? Where the only person he truly had a connection with, not because his status wielded power, not from his name and his connections in the royalty, but from a person who genuinely cared about him and his hobbies, only to be left behind once more? It didn't help when Lilia was going to leave as well, his most precious mentor (father), he had enough of his people leaving him. He didn't like the fact he could outlive humans, he didn't like the fact he could outlive Lilia, his Lilia. He wanted to call Lilia his father when his biological one wasn't there, and yet Lilia refused him. But, Silver gets to call him, "father"? Why? Is it because he was born differently? Why couldn't he have the same treatment as him? Wouldn't he outlive Silver? Why? Or, is it because he's a prince? Did his status ruined everything? Was it his fault for being born in royalty? He wanted what Silver had, although he did get the same treatment from Lilia, it wasn't the same. The way he watched Lilia grab onto Silved and hold him up like his actual offspring, when Silver cried and he was there, singing and reading a bedtime story, when Silver would say his first words, "papa! Papa!" Lilia smiled, When Silver learned how to walk Lilia congratulated him, Silver would call him 'dad' and Lilia would reply back, no refusal, no rejection. When Malleus was born, Lilia cried tears of joy, that he was alive, not his son. The way that Lilia had been visiting him, raising him at any chance he could, not because he was his son, but because he was important to the Draconia bloodline. When he called him 'father', he didn't like it. Why? Now that he had gotten the equivalent treatment he always yearned for, he wanted more. But, as soon as they were going to leave? He was scared. You were going to find a way back home, Lilia was retiring. He wanted none of that.

•None, of it, he was scared to let go, he didn't want to lose anyone, anyone but the both of you. The one that had made the most impact in life, not only you two, but Silver and Sebek. He can outlive both, and you. He's scared. He couldn't accept this outcome, he wouldn't- "But you'll need to, losing hurts, but there is no other outcome than misery on both ends if you force it."

•He's sorry, so, so, sorry. He had an accident. He didn't mean to. It wasn't his intention. He's sorry, he didn't mean to hurt anyone, let alone kill.

After overblot:

•Everything was fixed, he's alive, dw. You've apologized, and that's all for the amends. He learned his lesson, it was over. Now, he shouldn't do it again. Lilia scolds him for making him worry sick, even after what Malleus did.

•Let's enjoy the fact everyone is here, we'll and alive. No one is hurt (kinda), and no one is asleep in the curse (yay!).

•After the entire calamity that erupted, everyone was fine. A little shaken, but they were all recovering. Not much to say since you were there, helping each and every one of them, especially Malleus. He was grateful for your loyalty and kindness despite being boisterous and flashy, with a grin. Although the next lesson is to learn how to let go, he'll need to go through that the hard way. But, let's not focus on the future.

•He liked going on strolls with you, back to the same routine, and eating ice cream! (Yum), he liked it when you defended him and yourself when things went awry. Nothing about you is displeasing to him at all.

•Let's talk about the 18th century gargoyles from- *Picture of you and Malleus just rambling about his interests again, and you sit and listen to him rant.*

•Yes, this is how it's supposed to go... he wishes it could stay like this forever.

The End.

[dangermousie]

2024 kdrama post

We are already in December and nothing new I am likely to be interested in is gonna drop before the end of the year - and if it does it will run into 2025 so I can address it in my 2025 kdrama post, unless we are all ruled by lizard aliens by then.

Normally I list all the dramas made this year that I watch, thoughts on them, blah blah but this year I disliked most of the kdramas I tried (it was the worst kdrama year for me since 2006 when I first started!) and I don't want to make a giant negative post, so I am going to only mostly talk about the kdramas I enjoyed in some capacity.

From least to most:

Love Your Enemy - I don't really like it tbh, but it's here for nostalgia over JJH.

Tell Me You Love Me - good and quiet but suffers in comparison to the original and that FL actress is just not my cup of tea.

Connection - Ji Sung gives a powerhouse performance in a very solid crime drama; it's not higher because it's just not my genre.

The Midnight Shop - it was nice seeing Joo Won in not a disaster of a drama. It wasn't as engrossing as it could have been but I did like both the mains and rooted for them.

Knight Flower - was I emotionally involved? Nah. Was I entertained? Yeah.

The Judge From Hell - "was I emotionally involved? Nah. Was I entertained? Yeah." Redux.

Queen of Tears - honestly, it should probably be in the below category but I enjoyed myself for the first half so much, I am willing to pretend the nonsense disaster plots and character interactions of second half were not as bad as they were.

My Demon - sucker for supernatural romance fantasy done right (to me it was, I know some people didn't like it.)

Goryeo Khitan War - I put it on my 2023 list too so it's double dipping but whatever. This is just a grand old school sageuk and I adored every moment.

Lovely Runner - normally youth dramas bore me but this one was so sweet, so lovely, so pitch perfect.

Black Out - did not really feel like a kdrama at all, more like a prestige BBC production, but I loved it anyway, as bleak and harrowing as it was.

When the Phone Rings - my current obsession, old school melo the way they haven't made in years.

The sad thing is, a number of these dramas started airing in 2023 and/or beginning of the year. Most of this year has been the Sahara.

Dramas which I enjoyed off the start and then fell off the cliff into what the hell land: Captivating the King (wonderful first 4-5 episodes, OK few following, stupid as hell the rest - solid acting brought down by a ridiculous script), The Story of Park's Marriage Contract (great first two eps and then downhill rapidly with each following episode), Love Song For Illusion (first ep not bad, second ep tolerable, after that with each ep, my ff fingers got twitchier and twitchier.)

OTP of the year: Duh, Baek Sa Eon x Hong Hui Joo, When the Phone Rings, have you seen this tumblr lately?

Trend I wish would die: 8 ep kdramas, 12 ep kdramas. Bring back freaking 16 ep as a minimum standard. Also pls get Disney and Netlfix out of kdrama world while we are on impossible wishes.

Genre I need less of: romcoms; Genre I need more of: proper sageuk.

Worst waste of my eyeballs: The Impossible Heir.

Most boobs per minute: Queen Woo.

Best non-2024 kdrama I watched this year: Beyond Evil. A total masterpiece.

And that's a wrap!

(My cdrama post is gonna be insane in comparison to this.)

[victimeyez]

Omg you really got a shock collar?? :D is it safe have you tried it? And is it nice? :D jealous!! That’s so cute

Details below the cut ~

I did! Killer got it for me. Is it safe? Uh...well I tried it and I was fine! We had reasonable safety precautions. It is nice, and definitely different than what I thought. Aaand wrote. This is the collar set we got, in orange - one for me, and one to share with uh, curious friends. Tho, I want to attach one as a garter belt around my upper thigh and the other around my neck. Fun fact: Orange is Fletcher's favorite color :)

The collar has three settings you can use: Beep, vibrate, and shock. I guess the beep is the lowest level, but it's my least favorite. Super loud and unpleasant. I hate it.

The vibrate gets your attention, and it feels kinda funny, but it doesn't hurt. It can be a little startling. They mix in the vibrate sometimes to mess with me.

The shock collar has two protruding nubs that make contact with your skin and deliver the shock. They aren't sharp, but just having the collar tight enough to touch means they are pushing into you, and moving makes them rub, so I usually have a couple red spots afterwards from where they sit. It very quickly becomes uncomfortable, but uh, comfort's not really the point. Makes me feel bad for Tommy for having those metal barbs in his neck as contact points. My collar hasn't left marks that last, at least not yet. I also have skin that does not easily bruise or scar though! Disappointing, tbh lol.

The great thing about this collar is that it has 99 levels, so we could start super super slow and see how it goes. I started out pressing it to my thigh. Nice large muscle with some fat before I put it somewhere as sensitive as the neck. I couldn't feel a 1 or 2, but I felt a 3 as a light shock. It hurts, and I was quickly thinking, yikes, no way I can get to 99 and I don't know about my neck. We began with increments of 1, then a few at a time, then 5 at a time, then 10.

The shock is painful, but VERY very short. Once it's done, it's done, no remaining sting or aftershock. So it would hurt, then it would end, then I would think "well....that wasn't SO bad...maybe I could do one or two more..." Then we were at 30, 50, 70, 90, 98, 99. I survived!

It hurts, and makes me jolt, but that's it. I wrote them before as being strong enough to drop you to your knees, but it really wasn't that strong. I've seen videos of people passing out when they try a shock collar - I was nowhere near passing out. I have a pretty high pain tolerance, but I want to check and see if other shock collars are stronger. I also have a hand taser... but it was purchased online, so I want to check exactly how strong it is before I get shocked.

Time for the neck. 'vv'

The nodes were right against my trachea. More painful for sure. We started slow from the beginning again, but started jumping up in higher intervals more quickly. I made it to 99 just fine.

We've played some games with it, sometimes with friends. Kills would roll the antenna which changes the levels up and down. Then they'd tell me to guess which number they stopped on. If I got it right, I wouldn't be shocked. The only one I got right was 69 because they laughed when they looked at it.

They checked the number and raised their eyebrows. I guess 99 and they smiled and laughed, holding up the controller. "Wow! Yeah!" I felt relief. There's this inherent anxiety you get when you're wearing it, knowing it can happen any second. They showed me the screen. "Yeah, 98. So close." And shocked me. So mean!

They claimed that the levels were random, but they were magically always 60+. Except for one 42, which is my favorite number other than 10. Fun Fun. I've enjoyed it.

[paperstarwriters]

Hey, do you take requests? I loved your Modern Roomate Muriel X Reader fic and I would love a part 2 if you ever felt like writing it <3

Yes I take requests! But it does take a while for me to finish them cause I'm slow and this was no exception lol

thank you for waiting though! and I'm glad you like my writing enough to want more!

For this one I've tried to keep descriptions vague but also I tried to be accurate with Muriel's colors. Though if you can't tell I'm still not exactly confident with makeup lmao. Tbh i can't use it much since I'm prone to rashes, so I don't have much experience lol. Still I hope you enjoy <3

Pairing: Modern Roommates Muriel x Reader

Warnings: Lots of fluff & Author knows little about Makeup 😅.

Summary: Muriel admits that he has worn makeup before, but under such bad circumstances, you can't help but want to give him a better experience.  More important than the colours, more important than the fine lines, you want this to feel... Nice for Muriel. Like he's being pampered. He deserves that you think.

Word Count: 3, 640

Part 1 | Masterlists | The Arcana Masterlist

Painting

"So have you worn make up before?" 

Muriel pauses in making breakfast, turning to face you as you sip at your glass of water at the table. Had he not noticed you come in? He's typically very (annoyingly) good at that. Any chance of preening at your sudden ability to sneak up on your roommate falls flat as he makes a scrunched expression. Disgust perhaps? Or discomfort? You can't tell as he quickly turns back to his cooking, too soon to let you see what exactly he might have felt. 

Thankfully, he graces you with a reply. 

"I... Did before..... For a bit.... For a.... Job." 

Your stomach sinks. 

It's funny how much there is to notice. What you can pick up and understand when you live so closely with a quiet roommate. How a hum can mean a number of things, ranging from a simple yes to, "I think that's kinda dumb but you know what, you do you." or "I appreciate you too much to disagree." And for all that Muriel did not talk to you about his past, he only ever reserves the word "Job" for one job he's had in the past. Everything else is called work. This, you're sure, is better called torture. 

Asra mentioned it once to you before, when you were new roommates and he was far grouchier and colder. Muriel worked a job under some toxic super wealthy frat boy manager doing something violent and unsavory. A boxing ring you sometimes imagined, an assassination job it sometimes sounded like. In desperate need of money he had to do a lot of terrible things. It's a wonder he ever got out without someone chasing him to drag him back in, but well, thanks to the r3d outbreak getting away is way easier when your employers get sick, or when you can feign an illness and leave as the higher ups fear for their lives.

What kind of make up would that kind of job need? Maybe something black around the eyes like they do for the military with their masks? Or was it make up to appear more sick in order to escape?

Muriel sighs as he pushes your plate closer to you, startling you as you hadn't even noticed it was there. You mutter your thanks before you start eating the eggs and rice he's prepared for you, still trying to chew over what his possible past experience might have been with makeup while you try to chew your food at the same time. The result is tenuous of at best as you run very close to choking on your food a handful of times and miss your mouth once or twice when particularly deep in thought. 

What kind of makeup did Muriel even use?

...What would he look like in makeup?

On that point, what would suit him best? Something dramatic and edgy or emo? Or maybe a pop of colour? Green around his eyes might draw lovely attention to the green within, but a dark eyeliner might as well. What about contrast? Red against green? Wouldn't he look lovely in red? A lingering stain of red on his cheeks, and a bright red stain of red on his lips... Ah how kissable they would be then?

...well, anyone would consider his lips kissable if such plush things were stained a vibrant red...

"Are... Are you done?" Muriel mumbles, eyes diverted to tracing the scuffmarks at the bottom of the wall beside him.

It takes you a moment to realize that your plate is already empty, and a moment longer to realize you had been staring at Muriel for the last few minutes as you daydreamed about makeup. You're quick to rectify your mistake as you redirect your attention to your empty plate, though it takes you another moment to remember that it's your turn to wash them, plucking your plate and his from the table to go and wash.

It's silent for awhile. An anxious little silence wrought with a familiar lighthearted tension. It's more awkward than anything, but someone needs to break the silence, someone needed to say something. If you could just—

"Do you wanna try wearing makeup?" you blurt out. You don't even need to turn to look behind you to see his shocked expression at your offer, maybe even a little bit of hurt or betrayal that you just cannot bear to see. So you keep your eyes on the dishes before you, quickly scrubbing away rice with a sponge as the used pan sits below soaking in the water. "Not any battle make-up or anything, but just something... I don't know... Artsy or something? Something colourful? Something that would compliment your eyes..... Uhm not that your eyes aren't pretty or something—or that you're not pretty without makeup—or that you even need to do this at all haha!" 

Above you the light from the small kitchen's lightbulb is eclipsed by a familiar figure behind you. With a gentle touch of your shoulder, Muriel brings your attention up towards him though he still looks away, avoiding your eyes, as the corner of his lips twitches. You can't tell if he's fighting a smile or fighting a frown. 

"You don't have to, Muriel. It's just an idea..." 

And finally he meets your gaze. "I... No. I... I'd like that. It sounds...nice." 

His eyes wander away from you again, as if ashamed to confess that he'd like to wear make up—though maybe, considering what you've heard about that shitty old job, he is. Maybe his old job was the type to argue that pretty makeup was for the weak and spineless, or maybe he was convinced that pretty makeup was only for the rich and wealthy who came to watch or hire him to fight for them, all while they'd sit so far away and safe and cozy in some plush lounge seat, so far away from the danger and the violence, but getting the chance to watch, and delight in the wretched outcome.

Either case is so awfully sad. Either case only makes you want to doll him up in makeup even more.

Furiously you scrub at the pan, and within a matter of seconds you've scraped off anything that had ever threatened to stick, thoroughly scrubbed at it with soap and set it aside to dry with the plates as you wipe your hands on your shirt and nearly bolt off to your room to search for your materials. Hopefully you had colours that would work well with him. 

It takes you a moment to realize that you're alone in your room, turning with a handful of tools to find no one there behind you, and as you peek out of your door and down the hallway, you find Muriel still standing in front of the sink, staring at you with wide confused and slightly worried eyes. 

"Do you not wanna do it anymore?"

His eyes seem to go even wider for a moment, before he replies, "right now?" 

"Did you want to do it later?"

"I—no....okay!"

And back in to your room you go, this time with the added assurance that Muriel would follow, marked by the faint thud of his feet against the hallway floors.

You dig around for your cleanest brushes, and grab your most trustworthy (and thus most used) brushes alongside it, grabbing something to clean the brushes as you bolt off to the bathroom  to wash your tools, before you return to searching your assortment of tools in search for items that would suit him. The red of one lipstick would look lovely in contrast to his eyes, but a muted dusty pink might look just as pretty wouldn't it? Perhaps a bold black eyeliner, would be a bit much—and maybe a bit too similar to whatever black eye paint they used in the military if he used that stuff, so maybe a brown eyeliner would work a bit better? If you even had one of those... Though maybe brown eyeshadow would be effective enough? Ah but maybe brown wouldn't be as noticeable...

You zip back and forth between the washroom and your tools, between cleaning and searching for colours and palettes rummaging through your rather limited assortment of makeup tools. Having only ever bought stuff for yourself, you didn't really have much outside of your favourite colours or in tones that would suit your skin, but a few older products that you tried and didn't like, or a few palettes with sparsely used colours were surely somewhere within the mix. 

You only pause in your searching as you're pulling your brushes out from the washroom, having dried them off loosely with a towel to go further air dry them beside a nearby fan or in the sun by the window or something, you had been in the middle of deciding when you realized you had forgotten a crucial component. 

"Hey Muriel?" 

He sits up straight at the sound of his name, head snapping away to look out the door, as his hands ball into fists as if bracing for the touch of your brush. 

You can't help but hesitate a bit at the sight. 

"What.....?"

"Oh, uh, you should probably go wash your face, and use some cream on your skin as well. The one in the flat container should be pretty good for most skin I think?"

Muriel nods, still not looking your way as you return to your make up drawers in search for odd colours you only maybe, hopefully had for him.

When the sound of the sink finally shuts off, you take it as your cue to give up. It's an odd assortment of colors—you doubt you'd use that neon shade of green on him, even if green is his colour the brightness might be a bit...off-putting right away, but you have a general colour scheme you can follow using some of the colours on hand. 

Face ever so slightly damp and shiny from the cream, Muriel returns, looking... Anxious to say the least really.

He fiddles with his hands a bit, touching his face almost just as much, trying to wipe away invisible droplets of water, or trying to smooth down the thicker patches of the lotion you let him borrow. 

And again, you find yourself hesitant.

"Are you sure you wanna try this? No shame in backing out. It's easy to put this stuff away." 

Muriel nods, following his silence with a half whispered reply. "No, I'm ..... I'm okay. I want to try...."

You nod, and pulling your first brush from it's little cup, you settle down, and begin to get to work. 

It's a lot of careful maneuvering, carefully dabbing colours onto some places with a brush, rubbing other places with your fingers, before you lean away to check how you're doing. Were the colours too bright? Was that line off? There are a few things that you end up having to scrub off with a makeup wipe, but even with that you're careful of his skin. More important than the colours, more important than the fine lines, you want this to feel... Nice for Muriel. Like he's being pampered. Muriel barely moves through the entirety of it all, but for what little he does it means all the world to you. Silent and unmoving, eyes and mouth closed, Muriel serves as the perfect canvas, only difficult in the fact that it keeps you from seeing whether he likes it or not, if he feels pampered or not. At the very least, you hope it feels nothing like whatever his old job used to do for him. 

Ah, but you can only really hope. 

An orange-red lipstick is the final touch, but your limited supply of brushes are already all packed with colours, and you'd like to —if all possible—keep the things that touched your eyes from going towards anyone—including your own—mouth. 

So you elected a far simpler method instead. You rub your finger against the lipstick bullet, and with your finger to his lips you smudge the colour against his skin. And with a simple touch to his lips, you make him jolt, breaking his statuesque composure, for just a moment before he's still all over again, albeit maybe leaning a little more foreword than before. If he has, it's barely noticeable, and probably caused by that one jolt of movement. His lips are a bit chapped and dry, so it takes a few attempts, but you manage to stain his lips with a suitable amount of colour in your eyes. 

You take a step back to see what you've done, and smile, satisfied at your work. It's nothing special, nothing on the level of some professional in a studio with all the makeup options in the world at their fingertips, but you think that it suits him, and you're proud of that much at least.

"You can open your eyes now." 

You offer him a hand mirror, and let him examine your, admittedly shoddy work. It's not perfect, but the colours look nice you think, though you can't help but wince at the selection a little. You just didn't have a shade of green that would fit him well in your opinion, so you leaned instead into the red colours that you did have. You used the only greens you could find to add a little colour to the inner and outer corners of his eyes, and used a warm orange-y-red lipstick on his lips that turned out pretty dark against his skin, you also smudged the colour a bit along his cheeks as well, as a sort of blush really though if you could you'd like to try to capture that shade of red his face so often blooms. It really isn't your best work, limited as your colour palette was, but....

Well, the way his eyes seem to glitter more at seeing it.... Well, it would make any make up look pretty on him really.

"Can I... Ask for one thing?" 

You blink, surprised for a moment before you're immediately grabbing the makeup wipes again. 

"Sure! Do you not like the colours? Is there a colour that you'd rather wear?" 

His cheeks tint red, and you almost curse yourself for the smudge of dark red on his cheeks, making it harder to decipher that exact shade. Surely you had lipstick in that colour at least...?

"What.... What was the colour of lipstick you were wearing last night....?" 

You pause for a moment, dropping the attempt of colour matching to grab the tube of lipstick from it's place on your table. It was a dark red shade, almost like the colour of blood, a shade you specifically aimed to avoid, hoping that it wouldn't make him uncomfortable. 

"This one? You wanna try it on?" He barely even looks at it before he nods, making you sigh as you bring it closer to him to let him inspect it. "It might look different on your skin than it does on mine just an fyi, so don't be surprised if it looks different okay?" 

Muriel nods again, this time having looked at the lipstick a little more thoroughly. He doesn't react to the colour at all no trace of hesitance or weariness, so perhaps they didn't try to paint him in "blood" or anything dramatic like that. 

With your fingers once again, you press the red colour against his lips, as Muriel leans into your touch this time, eyes closed as he lets you work. The sight of it startles you for just a moment, looking as if he were leaning in for a kiss. 

Your finger slips from it's path, and a smudge of red, streaks away from his lips, but even that looks so.... Pretty against his skin. Like he's been kissed, like whatever lipstick he had been wearing had been smudged by another pair of lips eager to express their affection. 

You hesitate, staring at his lips for a moment before you finally turn away to grab more makeup wipes. When you turn back, Muriel's eyes are already open, already staring at your sloppy job with his lipstick. 

"Sorry I'll fix it. Do you like the colour though?" 

Muriel's eyes flicker to yours for a moment before he looks away, but a grin curls his painted lips, as more colour takes to his cheeks. A resounding yes, then, confirmed by a faint hum. A job well done in your books then, and thus a debt well repaid, for his gentle hand at helping you wash your own makeup off. 

You dab at his lip to wipe away the smudged lipstick, before you begin to pack up your supplies. "Feel free to wear that for however long you'd like, I...." you cut yourself off. The offer to help wash the make up from his face tucked away along with your makeup containers. Muriel helped you to clean off the makeup only because you needed his help exhausted and maybe a little drunk from your night out, but Muriel can surely handle himself. 

When you turn back around, Muriel is staring at himself in the mirror. It's the most you've seen him look in a mirror to be honest. Not including the bathroom, your room seems to be the only one in the apartment with a mirror, and though you've offered to let Muriel borrow your mirror if he needs to, or to help him buy his own, he's staunchly refused your offers. It was a small thing though, nothing that you'd feel the need to press him about. He's covered in scars after all, and you know full well how he feels about those—the whole reason why you let him use a handheld mirror than your full sized one. 

But now, as he holds your little handheld mirror up, to look at his face, you can't help but notice how he traces his own lips with a newfound reverence, fingers dancing along the flesh with the barest touch as if he were worried it would smudge, or wipe away with a mere touch. Yet even then, the corners of his lips are pulled up. Did he like it that much? You make a mental note to buy extra of that colour the next chance you get alongside some green eyeshadow perhaps, though by the looks of if, Muriel seemed to much prefer the lipstick that stained his lips than any of the other colours you've splattered on his face. 

It takes him a few moments, but when his eyes finally flicker up to you, he does so with a smile, that promptly fades into a blushy pout as he realizes your attention. It's a tragedy to see it go, but seeing his lip jut out at the attention is nearly as good. 

"Do you like it?" 

You're startled at his question, for a moment, scrambling for coherent thought to best reply to him. The reply you give in the end makes your own face grow warm, though earnest and true. 

"You look lovely." Even your expression softens a little, as your eyes flit back down to his lips.  Once more, Muriel's face picks up colour again, but try as he might, he can't quite keep the smile from curling up the corners of his mouth at his words. 

"Thank you."

Standing, Muriel fidgets with the mirror for a moment before handing it to you, mouth parting for a moment before he thinks better of it and closes it again. It continues for a moment or two, making him stay longer than you'd expect him to, as he stares anywhere but you. Familiar with the gesture, you wait for him to get his words in order, even as he looms above you while you're half sitting against the ledge of your drawers.

If anything, you take the moment to re-assess your work, recalling all the improvements you fully intended to make if he let you do this again. If you could, you'd use a shade closer to his eye colour as his eyeshadow next time, to bring more attention to the colour there. Or maybe even some sparkles next time? If he didn't mind them that is, it could be a bit irritating to try to clean off sometimes. And maybe next time you'd choose a better shade of blush that would match the actual red to rise in his cheeks. 

And the red of his lips... You're tempted to reach up, to press a finger to his lips once more, if only to feel how plush they were again, if only to give him more of that pretty red that he seemed to like so much despite his past.

And you watch as those pretty painted lips part, as those lovely emerald eyes finally dart your way. You watch as his attention finally turns to you, mouth parted as if ready to speak before he pauses, just for a breath, eyes searching your face for... Something. 

And maybe he finds it. Maybe he doesn't. But in reaction to whatever he sees, just a little bit of that tension escapes his face, shoulders sagging and the faintest curl of his lips gracing his expression. 

"Next time," the spell breaks as he speaks, mouth corralled into a pout once more as his eyes dart away from you, "Next time let me put your make up on for you."

And with that he turns away fingers just brushing against yours as he leaves your room, leaving you to blink and wonder what sort of makeup he knew to apply. 

If anything, at least he seemed to like it.

If anything, you had another reason to feel his fingers against your skin...

[dunmeshistash]

hi, i always kind of forget how the general dungeon meshi monster lore goes tbh, like i know monsters are animals that have been affected by magic and stuff, but i feel like its kind of unclear how much they exist outside of dungeons? at least in my memory... and the wiki doesn't have a general page for monsters for some reason. if you could point me in the direction of a post you've made abt this or compile some stuff from the manga that would be really helpful.

Yes they exist outside dungeons! But not in as great of numbers

Laios talks about monsters that live near his home town and there are also "natural dungeons" where naturally occurs higher mana density (usually caves from the ones we see) and there's a higher possibility to find monsters in those because of that.

You can check this similar ask I tried to answer a bit ago and the monsters tag

Also maybe this dungeon post could be interesting too, there's major spoilers in that post tho.

Here's the more relevant bit, a collapsed dungeon in a canyon that still has monsters around.

6 THE DRAGONS' LAIR

An elf-style dungeon. Currently collapsed. A rare case in which an entire region of interlacing canyons became a dungeon. Many dragons lived here once, and it was a notoriously secluded region. However, it was hard just to get to it, the rewards were small, and the dragons were tough. Almost no adventurers visited it, and it's thought to have collapsed naturally. When the population dwindled, mana stopped flowing through it, so the large dragons vanished. However, a few small dragons still live there.

[decepti-thots]

Ultra Magnus for the headcanon asks, please!

Headcanon A: realistic

I think that while the existence of the Magnus armour stuff is officially only known by a very tiny number of people in Autobot high command, it's not nearly as unknown in an unofficial sense as one might assume, and a not insignificant number of people with some amount of security clearance and/or regular interaction with Magnus know about it and gossip. Obviously we have two concrete canon bits of proof for this (Bumblebee shouldn't know, but was told by at least one Magnus armour wearer, and Ratchet guessed despite never being told), but I think it's gotta be something that over the years has spread enough that it's a little bit of an open secret tbqh. The guy keeps dying and then popping back up with a noticeably different personality. Any medic treating him has the same opportunities as Ratchet to notice. They're robots where the concept of a loadbearer is a clearly known possibility and the propaganda possibility is not that hard to infer! I feel like the number of people who guessed that something was up cannot be anything close to zero, or even just a couple higher ups. Like. It's been gossiped about. You know.

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

Due to spending two years in direct collaboration with Verity, he has a baffling knowledge of the very specific segment of Earth pop culture that appeals to a teenage girl from the USA in like the late 00s/early 10s. Specifically a rebellious nerdy one. He legitimately knows more about it than he ever knew about Cybertronian popular culture. This never comes up until he offhandedly mentions some random thing within earshot of Swerve that is so incongruous it causes him to mentally bluescreen. How the fuck do you know about that Magnus. What the hell.

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

Magnus is going to carry the guilt of dismissing Rewind's insistence Dominus was somehow alive the whole time with him for the rest of his life. The realization that Rewind was right but they confirmed it too late for him to do anything about it until the very second it was too late, in a time and place where Magnus was present and might have been able to make a split second decision that helped if only he was there, must be such a fucking thing for him. Let alone that as Ultra Magnus, if he had believed like Rewind did, he'd have possibly had the resources to get answers much, much earlier, if he'd tried.

Realistically, he had every reason to assume Dominus was dead. Rewind was being unreasonably optimistic, especially when the comic implies that Minimus was cut off from the literal sparkbond they had in a way that in any other situation would be definitive proof Dominus was dead. But he wasn't! And he missed every chance to intervene by like, the tiniest margin. You have to assume that on some level he's got some fucked up feelings about that.

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own

I know Roberts said he thinks that Megatron becoming an Autobot without all the code-test stuff that Tailgate went through wasn't an issue because realistically, Megatron would know it back to front. I don't even disagree with him, I absolutely believe that he would, it makes sense. But it's objectively too fucking funny to imagine Magnus putting Megatron through the 'you WILL listen to my three hour lecture on the syntax of this one sentence being Extremely Legally Important' gauntlet and I simply choose to believe this did happen but off-panel and Magnus absolutely kicked his ass about it in terms of sheer Knowing His Shit about it. Way too funny to pass up tbh. Megatron thought he knew and understood it very well (and to be fair: he did, compared to every not-Magnus person), but he got grilled. Magnus quite enjoyed rebutting every single interpretation Megatron had by way of ludicrous pedantry.

[unaplays]

✨ Xilonen Buffer Build ✨

🛹 Like I said in my previous pull recap, getting Xilonen wasn't in my original plan. I was waiting for Mavuika but there was no signs of her yet until next patch. The game got a little boring with no new character to build so I decided to use some of my Mavuika saving for Xilonen.

🛹 Turns out, I made one of the best decision, pulling for a buffer who doesn't just boost my character's damage, but she's also able to heal! Discussions started surfacing, comparing Xilonen with Kazuha, which one is better and is she worth to pull if you already have Kazuha? I will try to break down my thoughts and how to build Xilonen as a buffer in this post.

🛹 Disclaimer: This build is not perfect and by no means should be treated as a rigid rule. I just share what I have tested in game and what I know works for me. So always do your own research and take my guide with that note in mind!

Artifact Set

🛹 Being a character who hails from Natlan, Xilonen is able to activate Nightsoul Blessing as her own kit, which can easily help trigger the 4 pc effect of Scroll of the Hero of Cinder City artifact. Just make sure that you create elemental reaction with Xilonen to activate the passive. It's required to produce crystallize reaction with the element you want to buff for the passive to work.

Artifact stats: def% or energy recharge sands, def% goblet, def% or crit rate/crit damage or healing bonus circlet

Ratio to follow: 3.200 def if you use Peak Patrol weapon to maximize its buff, 150% energy recharge if you want her to burst every rotation

🛹 A lot of my followers asked me on Instagram if she needed high def number and tbh if we're talking about Xilonen's debuff, it doesn't scale off her def. It has its own multiplier which is why it's important to level up her skill. Def helps with her healing but not with the debuff. Unless you have her signature weapon, then it's required to have at least 3.200 def to maximize its buff.

Team Composition

Neuvillette hypercarry

🛹 Wherever Kazuha can exist in a team, then Xilonen can too. They pretty much work the same, the only difference is in the way they give benefit to the team and the fact that Kazuha can do crowd control. While Kazuha gives buff to us, Xilonen gives debuff to enemies instead. Tho since geo can't react with dendro and anemo, you probably won't find her place in those teams.

Talents Priority

🛹 Her skill takes priority as the resistance shred comes from her skill. The higher the skill level, the bigger resistance shred she can give. Her burst deals damage but you level it up mostly for her heal.

Weapon Choices

5* choices: Peak Patrol Song, Freedom Sworn

4* choices: Flute of Ezpitzal (Natlan craftable weapon), Favonius Sword, Cinnabar Spindle (event exclusive)

🛹 Xilonen is such an f2p friendly unit as she can use common 4* weapons such as Favonius, and even craftable ones from Natlan. You can give her def% or energy recharge weapons and she will still perform just fine.

🛹 Now comes the million dollar question: Should you pull for Xilonen if you already have Kazuha? My answer would be yes, cuz it's like having 2 Kazuha, and since we need 2 teams for spiral abyss so having 2 characters who can help buff both team will be our advantage. You can skip Xilonen if you still lack on field dps in your account. But other than that, there's no reason for you to skip her. You can even combine both Xilonen and Kazuha in the same team if you want a premium hyper carry team.

So that’s pretty much my Xilonen build. Feel free to ask me questions if you have any through my ask box or just leave comment on this post and I’ll respond right away!

Don’t forget to check out my other builds here!

[adhd-riddled-crow]

Omg I've never done a 20 questions before! I am honoured that you thought of me @dragonagegayz

Tagging @agentlizardofowca

I only have pictures of rookanis (and spite) rn :3

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 6 works. Rookie numbers ik. But I do have some (less than ideal) fics on wattpad, too. I started there and only joined ao3 a few years ago. I originally intended to only use ao3 to read fics, but then I started writing again and decided that it was much better to use than wattpad 😅.

2) What's your total AO3 word count?

12,624 (and counting). Higher than I thought tbh. I'm used to only seeing like 300 smt words a fic if I'm honest. I find it hard to write so much and make it sound interesting to read. But I'm proud of my current wip 😁

3) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

"Soap as Soap?" (39), Two Crows and Their Nest (36), A Stony Fanfiction (9), Hospital Wing (9), Pacing and Potions (8)

4) What fandoms do you write for?

Hogwarts Legacy (2), Call of Duty (2), The Avengers/Marvel (1), Dragon Age: The Veilguard (1)

I have also got wips for Star Trek, and I have written wips for many others that I cannot remember right now.

5) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

OF COURSE I DO! Any feedback is welcome, and I would like to share my appreciation for the reader who decided to comment on my fics. Sometimes I don't because at the time I probably couldn't think of anything. But that doesn't happen very often, I'd just respond with a "thank you" of some kind at the very least.

6) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

None so far. Sorry to disappoint. I have a track record of never finishing fics. Although if I were it wouldn't happen very often. Depending on the ship.

7) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Again, none so far. Though I hope that Two Crows and Their Nest will have the happiest ending I can come up with. You'll just have to wait and see 😉✨️

8) Do you get hate on fics?

No. Not that I can remember. Most of my earlier stuff is on wattpad so I genuinely can't remember what's happened on those; I barely touch the app unless reading my own old ass fics just to poke fun at 12 year old me, so.

And I tend to get very nice feedback from both tumblr and ao3. Which I am very thankful for <3

9) Do you write smut?

I have tried in the past. I have in the past. Though I wouldn't call it smut by ao3's standards. I wrote it on wattpad.

10) Do you write crossovers?

No. I don't read them either. It makes my brain itch in a very unsatisfactory way.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope. Not to my knowledge. If I have, it'd probably be from my old wattpad fics. But why the heck would you nick one of those 💀

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope! I'm not out there enough for that to happen.

13) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Technically. I have a Star Trek wip that me and @snek-of-eden are- were writing. And I asked them to beta read it for me, and then they ended up helping me write some things too. Which I thank them for still! If I ever finish it and upload it I was planning on adding them as a cowriter for the fic because it's true. I don't want to overshadow them seen as in they are equally just as much the writer as I am.

14) What's your all-time favourite ship?

I'd have to say I don't have one. Specifically. I have a preferred ship from whichever fandom I'm currently wanting to read/write from. Right now, I'd say Lucanis Dellamorte/Male Rook. But I am also in the market for some Bloodweave (Astarion/Gale bg3)!

15) What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The Star Trek one. I made my own species/planet and everything! It's the most indepth I've ever gotten into the "How's & Why's" of a fic I wanted to write. And I love it! I just don't feel like writing for that fandom rn, and I'm just scared I'm gonna abandon said fic 😔

16) What are your writing strengths?

I have been told on multiple occasions that I "have such a way with words" and personally I think I'm pretty good at describing things. More specifically people; like their eyes, or their minute details in their faces. Something like that. I'd also maybe say characters emotions? I'm not the best at those irl so I'm not sure I use the correct words or the words correctly.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

I tend to use a lot of the same words; "and", "says", "asks", etc. I also tend to use commas like far too much. Especially in my current fic 💀 (I'm so sorry)

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

GOD YES! PLEASE! I eat that up! I love a bit of Spanish, or French, or German, or heck even Icelandic! (I have read fics with all of these languages sprinkled in here and there)

19) First fandom you wrote for?

Batman. More specifically, Batman/Joker. No. I will not elaborate.

20) Favourite fic you've ever written?

THE ONE IM CURRENTLY WRITING!!!! I am foaming at the mouth with these two (Lucanis/Velasco (My Crow Rook))! Someone put me down! 🫠

Thank you again @dragonagegayz for the prompt. I hope I answered these questions well and that any and all who see this have a lovely rest of your day/evening <3

[morlock-holmes]

UK radfems arguments contra trans men seem to largely consist of a. “They’re transing our butches as a way to enforce gender conformism” and 2. “Being a young woman is very stressful, and so teen girls are identifying as “gay men” as a way to try and opt out of certain types of sexual objectification and sexual disrespect”

tbh, I’m somewhat sympathetic to these arguments. Your bald and bearded friend aside, an awful lot of the people I meet who self-ID as trans guys just seem like theater girl tomboys. The thing about gay trans guys trying to opt into masculinity for a sexual relationship with a more equal power dynamic seems like a very plausible explanation, tbh. Maybe it’s just my rural background compared to living in a blue city now, but I definitely know some trans men who come off pretty feminine compared to some of the farm girls I grew up around.

It’s a little sad to see, in some cases. I think there are straight men out there who’d be perfectly happy to date a tomboyish woman and treat her equitably; while they’re likely a minority, this must be a significantly higher number of men than the number of gay men who’d want to sleep with or date someone with a vagina.

that said, I’m not going to go become an activist about it, I mostly try and leave people alone and keep my thoughts to myself. I would never raise these concerns/thoughts in polite society, it’d just make people mad, sad, or distrustful of me. And I still vote democratic, for whatever that’s worth haha

Well, you know, I'm not totally unsympathetic to those ideas either, I have certain reservations about various social explanations for why people identify as trans and what it means to be trans, but from the tenor of this ask I think you'll agree with me that this is not really a basis for the law, yeah?

At some point in a free society people have to be allowed to make decisions which we don't think are necessarily going to be for the correct reasons or in keeping with what we think would bring a person happiness.

You might think somebody is getting married to a partner who is bad for them, but it doesn't mean it should be illegal for that marriage to take place, you know?

It's not really a very compelling reason to out them on passports, is my feeling.