#why did I write this??

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[moldycigarette]

this x simon “ghost” riley

cw!: praise, size kink, creampie, breeding kink, bulge, simon’s a nasty dog (and i tried to warn ya)

—————

simon never fails to remind you how much bigger he is than you.

you’re short? no problem, all those missing inches go to simon. oh wait you’re tall? whatever, he still towers over you.

are you chubby by society’s standards? just means there’s more for him to love. skinny? that’s okay too, he’s always down to eat whatever you can’t finish.

no matter what size or shape you are, it’s a guarantee that simon is still bigger than you. and he always manages to remind you of that in the bedroom.

his large hands around your waist, pounding into you with his thick cock. he obsesses over the bulge in your cute tummy from his size, practically drooling over the fact that he can’t even fit inside you’re pretty pussy all the way.

whether he’s fucking you doggy style or in a mating press, he will always tower over you. he makes sure you’re cum is on his fingers and his tongue alone before he shoves his meaty dick inside you; this man has the libido and stamina of a god.

“g’nna fuck this p’ssy so good, love. fill ya’ up to the brim,” he moans, his thrusts growing more erratic as he feels that familiar heat in his stomach.

you’re coming right along with him, seeing stars while he peppers kisses in your neck. “such a good girl f’r me, g’nna make the best mama.”

—————

um sorry didn’t mean to let out my inner whore

[whateveriwant]

I have this one very specific headcanon that Simon is naturally left-handed.

From the moment his little infant consciousness kicked in and he realized he could grab things and bring them to his tiny slobbery mouth, Simon was instinctively reaching with his left hand. But as he got older, for some reason or another, he lost his left-handedness. Well, “lost” is the nicer way of putting it; the truth was he rejected it.

Maybe it was because he was being bullied at school or, hell, maybe he was being harassed by his own father because of it. Whatever the reason, when he was still a boy, Simon forced himself to use his right hand until it became second nature to him.

So now fast forward 30-odd years to where Simon is now a grown adult. He’s got a good job, a nice house, a loving partner…

And, wouldn’t you know it, he’s got a kid who’s left-handed.

Well, let me tell you, the moment Simon realized his kid seemed to favor their left hand over their right, he literally started to weep. But he didn’t cry out of sadness or frustration. Though, it wasn’t out of sheer happiness either.

To be honest, Simon wasn’t exactly sure what he was feeling at that moment. Pride? Envy? Catharsis after experiencing a lifetime of people being cruel over the most trivial of reasons?

Either way, you can bet your ass Simon immediately bought his kiddo any and every left-handed-specific gadget that was out there. Left-handed scissors, left-handed notebooks, left-handed can openers.

Why does a toddler need a can opener? Who cares! The point is that Simon knows just how hard it is to be a leftie in a rightie’s world. So if he can do something to make his kid’s life a little easier – to make the world a more forgiving place than the one he grew up in – he will do that with zero hesitation.

[dear-ao3]

pov your ex held your collection of thrifted spoons hostage for over a year (not entirely his fault, they got mixed up in his things during a move and you did not realize it, though he did adamantly deny that he had them) and reached out to your roommate on instagram nine months post break up after being thoroughly blocked for several months just to ask if you were still roommates and then to very cryptically reveal that he had in fact found the spoons (among other, mystery items that he did not reveal and you also have no idea what they are) in his car that he had not driven for a year cause he decided to make the worst financial decision of his life and buy a tesla and then tried to coordinate a meet up to drop off said spoons and mystery items which you did not want but you do want your spoons so you told him to either mail it or show up to your place of work when you were not scheduled only for him to entirely miss the point and still try to see you, then you reveal that you do not want to see him so he finally says that he will put on his big boy pants and mail it (though him actually mailing it is entirely unlikely) and also aparently hes gotten a perm since the last time you saw him and it looks terrible

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

woke up and someone spilled vanilla extract all over my dash, so as punishment you strange little beasties are getting all the VANILLA FACTS i know:

vanilla is the 2nd most expensive spice in the world (2nd to saffron)

which is why more than 99% of what we call "vanilla extract" is actually vanillin (vanilla's dominant flavor compound) and is not extracted from real vanilla.

luckily, even professionals struggle to tell the difference when it comes to things like baked goods. but there is a distinct difference in non-heat treated products like vanilla ice cream. real vanilla has a more complex, individualized flavor profile.

why is vanilla so expensive? because it is a ridiculously delicate & demanding crop. complete primadonna.

vanilla beans come from vanilla orchids. these crazy flowers bloom for A SINGLE DAY and have to be HAND-POLLINATED in a process that is exhausting, delicate, and requires specialist knowledge passed down over generations.

then, if you're lucky, you get vanilla beans.

which then require months of further specialized treatment.

the entire process takes about a year and can go wrong at any stage

vanilla has been cultivated for over 800 years (possibly much longer). the first known cultivators are the Totonac, an indigenous people of Mexico.

the Aztecs used it as a sweetener to balance out the bitter taste of cocoa. it was popular in a drink called xocolatl--the precursor to modern hot chocolate!

it is only pollinated by a very specific orchid bee!!!

which is why no fruit could be grown outside of Mexico until the 1800s

Edmond Albius, born into slavery, invented the pollination method we still use today--launching a global industry when he was just 12 years old.

today, the majority of the world's vanilla is grown in Madagascar

if you want real vanilla, read the labels carefully--it's harder to find than you think!

in conclusion, those tiny black specks you see in fancy vanilla ice cream? those are vanilla bean seeds! itty bitty orchid seeds!!! they are delicious and also a PRISSY BITCH!

(src)

[bunnyboy-juice]

femme as in praying mantis

[inkskinned]

we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.

"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."

i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.

you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"

i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.

what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.

i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.

"don't make a big deal about this," you said.

this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.

"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.

you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."

the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.

afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."

[idiotsonlyevent]

i wonder where the idea of chilchuck being a deadbeat came from when theres like. no textual evidence for it ?

he knows what all of them are up to; he still writes to flertom and she sent him his neckwarmer, so that to me implies that they at least have a somewhat positive relationship?

its more ambiguous with meijack and puckpatti, but since meijack is also a picklock, i wouldn't be surprised if he taught her himself, considering how trades are often passed down through families, and because he talks about sending people to her if he dies.

also the way he talks about puckpatti is very like... it's obvious he wants her to take things more seriously, but he's accepting, and his tone here reads more fond to me than anything else.

like, he keeps his daughters' old toys under his desk? that doesn't scream 'deadbeat' at all, it screams 'empty nester' who doesn't know how to reach out or is scared to do so

EDIT: i know a lot of the 'deadbeat dad' stuff is jokes, but some people are Not joking and genuinely think chilchuck is a bad dad. this post is not saying that you cant joke about it; it is just outlining what canon shows regarding his (clearly positive) relationship with his kids.

[soranker]

my girlfriend

[nondelphic]

me planning out my story: this will be so straightforward and easy!

me writing: why is there a subplot about flour?

[reineydraws]

✨️ BROTHERS! ✨️

(shouto will live out his idle childhood daydreams, even if he has to reverse their roles himself haha)

[mystic-orb88]

I took this comic to mean that he doesn’t care about how people view him in Hell. He can still be gentlemanly to every demon he comes across but he enjoys the fact he terrifies them. He has good relationships with people at the cannibal colony, simply because they hold similar power or interests as him. He’s stuck in the past, and that to me seems to be a coping mechanism to contain his murderous tendencies, because although others find him terrifyingly untrustworthy, he still knows he can deceive, trick, or manipulate almost anyone he wants with his powers. He built his scary reputation in Hell for many reasons, and I think he wants that message to get broadcast across to everyone. He’s far too insane to care about how he is viewed, and therefore has a friendly façade to anyone he meets. It’s only after he finds people are no longer useful or worthy of life, he decides to unleash his killer instinct and them. We also see in the comic, judging by his well-crafted expressions, he has a trauma flashback of some kind in this panel:

SIMPLY THEORY/INTERPRETATION TIME: I think he witnessed domestic abuse while he was alive. Possibly towards his mother, when he was helpless to stop it as a child. (Side note: He seems to get along well with female characters (particularly old-fashioned ones like Rosie and Franklin) more so than the male characters he has interacted with. This is possibly due to the fact that they share his charming, smiley attitude, and other qualities he associates with women or friends he had when he was alive, while viewing men as less kind, or foolish. He might be a misogynist like many people from his time, but he disrespects men too. An extrovert that hates everyone. How interesting.) Many fans have this theory.

Saving the sheep demon tells us things. He made no effort to NOT traumatise her- He’s far beyond wasting time trying to comfort someone as powerless as HE was at one point.

He has, however, lost the ability to have empathy, possibly mimicking what can be interpreted as sociopathic or psychopathic behaviour, which can be highly dangerous in the long run. He mentioned the sheep demon was of ‘fairer means’ and wanted to protect that, to have a sense of power and control in THIS situation. So why did he save her? It tells us that he values innocence, but only because innocents can be used as a tool or can’t get in the way of his plans. Even if they are the princes of The Pride Ring.

He could have destroyed Pentious’ ship because although he may not remember him, or was just teasing him, he could tell either way that he posed no threat and could be swayed into joining or working with the hotel for whatever reason. He’s always plotting.

Alastor might not be as powerful as some overlords or princes of Hell with physical magic, but someone morally impaired and hellbent (excuse the pun) on destruction?? The possibilities and opportunities are limitless. THAT’S what makes him such an interesting and unpredictable ‘Wicked spirit of mystery’. He’s not just another charming demon villain. He has limits, but we don’t know how far he can go, as his powers aren’t the only defining thing about his character. I think his portrayal is incredibly entertaining and I can’t wait to see and learn more about him later.

I realized why exactly Alastor's comic has made me a bit weary of his character ever since I've read it.

Alastor is nice in this comic.

There aren't any instances of him being evil or just outright mean as people assumed he was. He literally saved a hellborn from death for crying out loud.

Other demons who are afraid of him are simply scared of him because of his power and what he can do. Not his personality.

In this comic, Alastor is characterized as a charming fellow who's simply infamous because of his power. So he's basically the "He's not bad when you get to know him" type of character.

And there are really two reasons why I don't like this. One, there are already a lot of powerful demons that have this personality, especially in Helluva Boss. And two, it once again dissipates all of the menacing energy he had in the pilot and could've potentially had later on.

I liked Alastor because he was pretty unpredictable and was also evil. But now he's just some charming fellow with op Demon powers. That's boring.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Not beating the allegations.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[obsesssedblerd]

“SATORU!!!” 

Your white-haired boyfriend pops around the corner. “Yes? Why on earth are you screaming?” 

You fearfully point at the roach scampering up the living room wall, nervously hiding behind him. “That.” 

“Uh...What am I looking at here?” 

“Oh, don’t act— the bug, Toru!” You yell. “You mean to tell me that you can’t see that thing with your Six Eyes?!” 

Satoru lifts his blindfold, then looks back and forth between you and the insect. A wide, incredulous smile spreads across his face. “No way,” he snickers, then bursts into loud laughter. “That tiny little thing?! Baby, you exorcize curses daily, but this is what you’re afraid of?!” You stare at him blankly as he leans against the wall, breathless from laughing. Oh, my god, this is too funny.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can you just kill it, please?”

He sighs dramatically, then pokes your cheek. “Sure, I’ll take care of the big scary bug,” he mocks, and you curse underneath your breath as he walks closer to the wall. 

“Satoru—you better not do anything stupid,” you warn him. You know that he enjoys playing jokes, and you would be stupid to think that he wouldn’t bring the insect to you to scare you even more.

“Oh, relax. Why don’t you go to the room since you’re so scared?” 

You bite back any insults, and then go all the way down the hall. There, you find your other boyfriend, Suguru, who had rushed out of the bathroom, his hair wet from the shower. “Heard you scream. Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I saw a bug in the living room, but Satoru’s taking care of it.” You reach up to push a wet strand of hair out of his face. “You can head back and finish up. By the way, for dinner, I was thinking—” 

“HOLY SHIT!!!” 

You and Suguru see the burst of crimson light from the living room before the loud explosion fills your ears. The house shakes, and both of you stumble to the ground. When everything settles, Suguru helps you up, then you both rush to the living room. 

What’s left of the living room. 

The wall is completely gone, and where there isn’t rubble from the house, there are bits and pieces of your furniture. From where you’re standing, you can see some of the neighbors begin to poke their heads out of their doors and windows, wondering what the explosion was. Then, you see Satoru, who is wide-eyed, and slightly trembling. 

Suguru is the first to break the silence. “What the hell just happened?!” 

Satoru’s chest rises and falls with each breath. He then turns to you, pointing at where the wall used to be. “You didn’t tell me that it flies.” 

“...Huh?!” You ask.

“What- Don’t ‘huh’ me!” He sputters, flailing his hands around. “The roach! You didn’t tell me that it flies! It scared the shit out of me! It was so unexpected!!” 

Finally, the only thing that could’ve happened clicks in your head. The light you saw, the blast. “Did you just fire Red?!” 

He crosses his arms. “Yes, I fired Red!! Didn’t you just hear me say that—” 

“Okay, both of you, just stop!” Suguru shouts, putting his hands up. “Just…” He then faces his boyfriend, disbelief and disappointment evident in his features. “You mean to tell me, that you blew a massive hole in our damn house all because of a roach?! Satoru, what the hell!!” 

“Suguru, it was flying!!” 

“So that’s a good reason to destroy our house?!” 

“Hey! At least it’s not the whole house,” he says, then laughs nervously when Suguru glares at him. “Like yeah, our TV is definitely gone, but, uh… at least the roach is dead?” 

“You fucking idiot!!” Suguru snaps. 

Satoru snaps right back at him. “You weren’t there to see how it was flying!” 

As they go back and forth with their yelling, you groan, burying your face into your hands. You definitely should’ve just found the strength to kill it with a shoe earlier.

----

a/n: got inspired by that post about spiders that i made lmaooooo

[zan0tix]

STUPID PARADOX SPACE STYLE DJ COMIC

[amazinglyashy]

Sylus = Safety

At some point, somewhere in the deep unconscious of your mind, this became a fact, more than a feeling.

It's definitely not something you think about, no, but it's definitely a driving factor as to why you're walking into his main base of operations of the N109 zone after a particularly grueling mission nearby. Every muscle aches, and your joints are screaming at you to sit down, but you know if you listen, you won't be getting back up anytime soon, which is problematic given the slight gash in your arm and the bruising across your face and bleeding lip.

It's fine though, you know his place well. Or- maybe that was an overstatement. You knew where his room was, and the dining hall, and then the kitchen. That was the extent, though, even though the place could practically be described as a mansion. Or maybe a fortress? You didn't know which to land on in your exhausted haze.

But you find the gauze- the alcohol for sterilizing your wound, and some band-aids to stick across yourself and hope they're long enough to cover. You stare at his shower as you work, remembering Sylus and the shape of his form under the steam and hot water when you had ransacked his room for the twentieth time in search of that brooch. The band-aids aren't long enough, so you settle for two stuck together across the gauze on your arm and call it a day. Night? You didn't know anymore. You stepped to leave, but the bed in front of you is welcoming, and you know Sylus already knows you're here. Whether he's busy or just ignoring you moving around the safehouse, you don't know. But you do know the plush of his mattress feels like heaven on your brittle knees, and the shape of his pillow molds perfectly against you as you forget any possibility of punishment for sleeping in his bed and dripping blood on his sheets.

Maybe it's how spent you are, or maybe it's his scent filling your senses. But you're asleep within seconds.

And when you're waking up, you're waking up warm. Under the covers unlike before- you shoes have been removed, and your arm has been properly dressed with a wrap bandage and clean gauze. There's some kind of goop on your lip and minor cuts, and you feel so pleasantly warm, you have to fight to keep your eyes open.

The pillow you had fallen into was replaced with the toned bicep of the man whose chest your face was buried into, the arm wrapping to hold you between your shoulders, as his other worked his hand gently through the knots in your hair in between strokes of your head.

You have no idea if he knows you're awake, waiting to see if you'll fall back asleep if he stays silent, or if you'll jump away from him. But you consider the two options in the fog of your mind- just for a moment. Just before you let your eyes shut again, sinking into the feeling of his fingers brushing against your scalp, and the warmth surrounding you.

You could stay like this, just for a little while.