#Blackhole's Offerings

[blackholedjester]

uuuh

i have nothing, so have a doodled Sun n Moon

#jester b jestin' #blackhole bickers #blackhole's offerings #sun and moon fnaf #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #moondrop #sundrop #attacks u with gay ppl at 0630 EST

[perennii]

"you'll find your people" no i wont because my type of people dont exist

#like i love my friends but i am a blackhole. literally a black hole. if you give me affection i will take and take and take and take. #i cant help it. im trying to fill a hole that is infinite. no one can offer infinity

[spacedace]

It’s been a busy day for Elle by the time she rounds the corner and sees the unattended Batmobile parked in the alley she usually cuts through to go home. But not so busy that she’s willing to ignore the prime opportunity that she’s just stumbled upon.

Bats in the Bowery is always something that gets people’s heckles up - this is Hood’s turf and the people that live there are just as territorial over that as their violent vigilante. Batman himself being in the Bowery might as well be a declaration of war. Sure, when the heavy hitters are out causing shit things are a bit more flexible, but even then the Bats are there with Red Hood. Obviously and clearly tolerated for the time being.

Elle would put good money on Hood not being in the loop that the big Bat himself is currently parked three blocks away from Crime Alley. Which means that the Batmobile, tucked away in the shadows and entirely unattended, is free game.

Fuck it, she decides. 

Jay had asked her and Danny about what kind of rings Jazz likes. He’s on all their emergency contact lists, and he’s offered to officially adopt her and Danny to lighten Jazz’s load a little. He’s put in the time to figure out how to incorporate ectoplasm into his amazing home cooked meals in such a way that it doesn’t cause the food to come back to life just so they can have something tasty and nutritious. 

He’s family.

Which means it’s only right that she honors his place as family, by following in his footsteps.

Even without any of the proper equipment for the job, it’s a lot easier for her to remove the tires than it had been for her soon-to-be brother-in-law all those years ago. All it takes is five minutes, some intangibility and some increased strength and she has a pile of tires wider than her body stacked up behind her. She doesn’t even get any grease on her in the process. It takes more effort to find a pencil in her blackhole of a backpack to write the note she leaves behind tucked under one of the windshield wipers.

Getting the tires home is another story but she eventually manages to scrounge up enough blob ghosts to help her haul them back with her unseen. The little dudes like a little mischief - and like Hood even more - and they need the exercise. She’s not sure exactly what she’s going to do with the tires when she gets home though. One is definitely going to Jay as a present, maybe she could get Skulker to help her mount it on a plaque like one of his hunting trophies? Other than that though, they’re largely just going to take up space in the apartment.

Bill would probably know a guy. Hell, Bill may even want in on the trophy idea as a gift for Hood, he’d been saying that the anniversary of the crime lord taking out Black Mask was coming up. Maybe she could get the goon to help her get the last two tires to a couple of the more fun rogues as gifts? Harley for sure would get a laugh out of it. Ivy would probably be upset over the ecological impact of the creation of the tire, but maybe she could sell the last one to Penguin?

-

Tim blinks at the stack of - very familiar - tires taking up the corner of the Nightingales’ living room. Elle has them arranged in an approximation of a throne with a couple of pillows set down so she can sit more comfortably as she lounges. She barely even glances up at them as Danny leads them inside, slurping at a bright green smoothie as she taps away on her phone.

Danny looks as thrown by the tableau as Tim is. It’s nice to see that Danny isn’t as totally immune to Elle’s shenanigans as he pretends. Though, it’s also mildly terrifying to consider his boyfriend’s little sister is capable of chaos that not even Danny “Danger Twink” Nightingale can come up with.

“Uh…what you got there, Elle?”

Elle, pointedly, takes a long, loud slurp from her smooth as she looks up to meet her brother’s gaze. “New family tradition.” She says, unblinking.

Danny stands there for a long moment before giving a final shrug. “Yeah, sure. Jay will get a kick out of it.”

Tim pulls his phone out and snaps some pictures. Danny is right, of course, Jason is going to love it. But so will everyone else in the group chat.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #jazz fenton #danny fenton #danielle fenton #danielle phantom #dani phantom #tim drake #jason todd #anger management #dp x dc anger management #anger management ship #brain dead #dead tired #bill the professional goon #Elle stealing the batmobile's tires as a way to welcome Jason into the family and create a new family tradition lives in my brain rent free #she doesn’t know Jason is Red Hood in this #Jazz does but she respects secret identities and isn’t saying shit #Jason had been blowing up the family group chat over someone stealing ALL FOUR of the batmobile's tires #there were a lot of pictures of Batman looking tired and So Done (TM) standing next to the tireless batmobile #Jay will for sure be boasting about Elle when he finds out it was her #the comments about him pulling a Bruce and adopting the kid that stole the tires will never end and he can't even fight them because #he *did* legally adopt her #oh well totally worth it

[hystixia]

SHAMEFUL ACTIVITY.

FEATURING 、JEFF THE KILLER X F!READER

WARNINGS 、NONCON, DRUGGING, PUBLIC SEX, ALCOHOL CONSUMPTION, MENTIONS OF WEED, PARTYING, BLOOD, SLIGHT CUTTING, DEGRADATION, KNIFEPLAY, CHOKING, SLIGHT BREATHPLAY, CREAMPIE, THREATS OF KILLING, KIDNAPPING

You knew it was a bad idea to come to this damn party before even getting dressed up for it and yet here you were, in a cramped hallway just trying to find somewhere you could actually breathe and not inhale the scent of weed or alcohol on someone’s breath. Your heels pained your poor feet as you took steps down the hall, lightly shoving drunken fools out of the way with quiet huffs before the sight of the backdoor to this damn house came into view. If you could go back in time and not come here alone or at all, you would in a heartbeat.

You stumble through the crowded kitchen with a groan, stepping over half filled and spilled cups of all sorts of drinks before pushing the backdoor open and taking a breath of fresh air. The cool air and light breeze that passes by leaves goosebumps rising along your exposed arms and legs as you wrap your arms around your waist in a feeble attempt at staying warm and sigh contently. It was quiet, as quiet as it was going to get with the muffled sounds of the bass in songs playing inside of the house booming and making the house practically vibrate as people cheered and hollered inside. You close your eyes and relax your shoulders, taking in each moment you had to yourself with a content smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

You don’t even notice anyone’s there until a chuckle rings out and your eyes shoot open at the sheer deepness of the voice and you become increasingly aware of your surroundings as your heart skips a beat momentarily.

“Enjoying yourself?” A rough voice speaks out and you turn to look off to your side only to realize you’re practically face to face with a hooded male. A really tall and well built male at that. A mask hides the lower half of his face as he gives you a teasing look, his hands rest in the pockets of his black jeans and he faces the dark woods ahead of you both. “Shouldn’t you be inside partying like the rest of ‘em?”

Where the hell did this guy come from?

You shake your head, your lips turning down into a small frown at the mere mention of joining in on that disaster occurring inside. “Not really, I don’t go to these sort of things that often.”

“You don’t say?” There’s a hint of playfulness in his tone as he raises a brow at you before shrugging. “Partying ‘til you’re drunk out of your mind isn’t everyone’s type’ve thing.”

You hum in response, not really keen on keeping a conversation with the stranger. Your hands squeeze at your sides as nervousness bubbles in your stomach and leaves you feeling rather paranoid about the man’s intentions. You didn’t like this guy one bit, something about him was unnerving and you knew you didn’t want to be here too long or alone with some guy you didn’t know. Anxious thoughts about the worse situations happening if you stayed here any longer flooded your mind but his voice is quick to pull you out of that blackhole of panicky ideas and speculations.

“Wanna drink?” He suggests, hands coming out of his pockets as he crosses his arms over his chest and tucks his hands into his armpits as he leans against the side of the house. He’s really fucking tall and practically looms over you even if he’s a few steps away but the way he’s looking at you is almost unsettling and makes you feel small and vulnerable under his gaze. “‘s not alcohol if that’s what you’re thinking.”

You try to gulp down your worry. Surely he wasn’t so bad right? You’re just anxious from being overwhelmed by so many things at once. He hasn’t even advanced onto you like a majority of the dickheads inside, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give the mysterious man with an attractive voice a chance, right? Who were you kidding, it wasn’t even a chance it was just a drink offer before you finally dipped from this party and went home for the night. You might as well try to enjoy the night while it lasts.

You breathe out a small laugh, offering a nervous smile, “As long as it isn’t alcohol.”

He smirks but it’s hard to notice due to that mask being in the way. The only signs that he is making an expression is the way his eyes seem to crinkle slightly as he narrows them a bit as if teasing you somehow. You wonder what he looks like under the mask for a moment. The dark lighting of the night sky isn’t much help at even seeing his eyes or the dark hair that peeks out from under his white hood. Even the pale moonlight above doesn’t help you learn more about this man’s appearance but the mystery behind him seems to make you even more curious.

He steps inside after saying he’d be back and shortly afterwards he comes back out with two plastic cups in his hands, handing one to you that’s holding a transparent drink inside with a few ice cubes swirling in the liquid as the cup shifts in your hold.

“Water.” He says, gesturing towards the cup in your hand before turning away from you and looking off to the side as he tugs the mask down and takes a sip from his own cup. A part of you wanted to sneak a peek of his face but the other part of you wanted to respect his privacy and so you refrained from trying to get a good look at him. Maybe he was insecure about his face so he hid it from view of others including himself? It wasn’t rare to see someone wearing a mask nowadays anyways and part of you could understand if that were the reason behind him wearing the mask.

You look down at your own cup and think about it for a moment, lips resting against the rim of the plastic cup before you ultimately think ‘fuck it, it’s water.’ and take a sip. You’re greeted by the cold liquid that holds little to no taste to it. He didn’t lie about it being water.. maybe you really were just paranoid after all.

He’s watching you when you aren’t aware, cold ice blue eyes staring intensely at your face as you take generous sips from the red plastic cup in your hands. You’re warming up to him whether it was a conscious effort on your part or not. He can tell you’ve grown more comfortable by how much more relaxed you’re behaving now than when he had first spoken to you. You’re so blind to his advances on you it’s laughable. Perhaps the other dumbasses in the house were too straightforward and didn’t plan their advances on you beforehand. He’s used to this though. He knows how to get someone to warm up and feel drawn to him without realizing what they’re truly getting themselves into.

Your thoughts become a blur shortly after finishing the drink. When did you exactly finish it? You don’t remember. It’s so foggy all of a sudden as you lean against the wall for support while your knees buckle beneath you and your eyes fail to focus on anything around you.

What was happening right now? Where even are you?

“Aw, too strong?” A voice coos lowly by your ear, warm breath fanning over your face and you hear a chuckle ring out and echo into the woods in front of you as you struggle to stand against the wall. Who was talking to you? Your head feels too fuzzy. “Poor thing, can’t even think straight, can you?”

Strong arms grab you by the waist, your nose scrunching up as your brows furrow. Your small hands fail to push against the broad chest of whoever is grabbing you, an upset sound falling past your lips as your head lolls forward against the stranger’s torso. Another laugh greets your ears but it sends a chill down your spine when you hear the manic edge to it.

Your vision is almost cross eyed and everything seems so slow but fast at the same time. Struggling is pointless, your body feels so fucking tired you just want to sleep. Being pressed against rough bark on a tree pulls you out of your nearing unconsciousness though. When were you moved? Where is the house you were just at?

“Don’t pass out on me,” A voice speaks behind you, cold hands pulling your arms behind your back and keeping them there while one hand slips down to pull your hips back as you struggle to stand correctly. “haven’t even played with you yet.”

Large and cold hands grab at the fabric of the skirt you had on, flipping it up as the male stares right at your ass making you squirm uncomfortably yet still in that foggy haze.

Your face goes slack against the tree and your arms relax against his tight grip that’s sure to leave bruises but you’re too disoriented to say anything about the pain tingling where his hold stays.

His free hand slides over the round of your ass, squeezing wherever he chooses and likes before grabbing at the hem of your panties and beginning to tug them down with growing impatience. That’s when your eyes widen and your body stiffens while alarms go off in your head.

You pull away from him, his loosening grip on your arms growing tighter than before and it’s enough to have you reacting to the pain as a yelp leaves your throat and you try to pull away from him again. Your fingers balling into fists as you try to get out of his grip but he simply cackles maniacally at your attempts and it’s a sound you don’t want to hear ever again for the rest of your lifetime.

“Think you can run away now, sweetheart?” You recognize his voice now, the fucker that gave you the drink! He fucking drugged you! And just as quickly as you had felt that surge of energy it’s gone again and your mind slows down and you’re pulled back tight against his chest. Something cold rests against your throat now and it feels uncomfortable but you can’t form words only a small huff leaves you before you’re being pressed against the tree again with that object tight against your throat.

“If you move again, I won’t hesitate to cut that pretty throat open.” He hisses by your ear, the anger radiating off this man is terrifying now and if you were coherent you’d be begging for your life but you’re not so with half lidded eyes you turn your head and stare back at him as he hastily rips your underwear off your legs. A whine of protest bubbles in your throat but you don’t make a sound as he spreads your legs and makes sure you’re secure in his grip before pulling down the dark mask covering his lower face.

You wished he had kept it on before violating you.

You take back the thoughts of him being attractive under that mask, it was the only thing making him look attractive to begin with. The nasty scars adorning his cheeks make you feel nauseous and the crazed look he gives you is a silent warning. You swallow and feel that cold object against your throat again when it clicks.

He’s got a knife to your throat. He’s going to kill you after this.

Tears cloud your already unfocused vision as pain tears through your lower body up to your chest that tightens as you fight back a scream at the excruciating pain. He hadn’t even warmed you up to it? That was cruel but how could you think so logically about a guy that’s willing to drug you to get what he wants.

“Shit, you’re tight. Relax f’me, yeah?” He groans by your ear, leaning down to rest his forehead against your shoulder as he struggles to push his length into your tight and hot pussy. He should’ve slipped something else in that drink, it would’ve help way more than putting you on the brink of passing out.

His hand comes around to flick at your clit and that gets a sound from you that he likes to hear. No more uncomfortable noises or whines of protest. Only the soft sound of you warming up to his touch as your walls flutter around him struggling to accommodate to the intrusion of his thick cock.

“There you go, doll,” He breathes in your scent, intoxicating as he sighs and moves to stand back straight and stares down at where your needy cunt tightly sucks him in before thrusting forward hard leaving all his length to be stuffed completely inside you. “Wasn’t so hard, right?”

You whimper against the rough bark of the tree, fingers digging into the palms of your hand as the knife presses dangerously into your throat with each experimental thrust he does and you hate how it makes heat pool in your lower belly, how when his blunt head presses against your cervix it makes your mouth water and your knees buckle beneath you.

He builds up a pace, rough and almost too fast for you to keep up. A moan that you tried to swallow down slipping past your lips when he rubs against a gummy spot that has stars clouding your vision and tingles rolling down your body in waves.

“Right there? Is that your spot, doll?” He’s teasing, nudging the knife against your neck with a wide grin you can’t see before he’s ramming his dick into that spot only and it’s good he did it, the sounds that leave you repeatedly are addicting to listen to he can’t get enough of you.

“You’re best like this,” He releases the grip he had on your arms, enjoying the way he sees red marks against the poor skin as he grabs at your hip. “Just obediently taking my cock like the dirty whore you are.”

Your eyes roll back into your head as he pounds into your gummy walls, you can feel the sticky coat of your arousal smeared against your thighs and the base of his cock as you rock against the tree trying to muffle your loud whimpers and moans the best you could.

“You like that don’t you? When I call you a whore,” Your walls squeeze him tight and he laughs as he grabs your plush hip tighter. “Such a slut f’my cock, hm? Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

A mumble of what he can only assume is the closes thing to a needy ‘yes’ turns his grin into a smirk. Your velvety walls spasm around him and usually by this point he’s already cumming and killing off whatever is left of the poor drugged out victim, but the way your pussy has him in a trance keeps him from doing so to you and leaves him dragging this out longer than he would any other time.

“It’s like you were fucking made for me, doll.” He hisses out between gritted teeth. Something warm trickles down your neck with a sting and you realize his knife has dug into your skin, cutting it just enough to draw blood. You whimper at the intense wave of nausea overwhelming you as he digs his fingers into your soft skin and his cock drills into your soppy cunt.

“Fuck! haah, ‘s too much..” You slur, eyes dropping close as you let all your weight lean into the tree, too weak to hold yourself up and it feels like the world is spinning and churning just like your insides. His pace hurts and you swear you’re gonna bleed down there and be left raw soon if he doesn’t slow down but you’re choking on your own moans and can’t protest against him.

“Too much?” He echos, fake concern laced in his voice before he’s moving his blade from your throat finally seeing the fresh red color that’s staining the newly cleaned metal and he lets out a low growl as he wraps his hand around your throat and presses the knife to your arched back. “You’ll take what I give you, slut.”

The knife digs into your skin through the thin fabric of your shirt but it���s not enough to cause alarming pain, it’s merely a prick that occurs with each thrust into you.

His large hand around your throat squeezes tight enough to close off your airway completely, silent gasps for air leaving you as your trembling hands grab at his forearm and wrist. Tears cling to your lashes and your lungs scream at you to take a breath right before he loosens his grip a few seconds afterwards. He lifts you back and forces your head to turn and face into a different direction with tears threatening to fall down your face.

“Look at ‘em,” He whispers by your ear, never stopping his brutal thrusts that bump your sensitive cervix. Your eyes struggle to not roll back as you train your gaze on whatever was in the distance, eventually seeing the blurry outline of a house a little ways away from you.

The house that damn party was being hosted at.

Desperation clashes with the warm feeling of being stuffed full repeatedly in your stomach and tears freely roll down your cheeks at the sight of four people looking around for something or someone. You hope they’re looking for you, even though you don’t recognize them. The idea makes your chest tighten at the sight of potential help being just out of your reach.

The male laughs above you, squeezing at your neck again as your hands still cling to his wrist more for support than to pull him away now.

“They’re lookin’ for you.. Such a pretty little thing you are. S’shame you’ll never see them again, y’know.” He lets a sinister chuckle rumble through his chest and a growing knot in your lower belly begins to feel overwhelmingly tight.

“Gonna cum? Really?” He’s mocking with a smirk on his scarred face, gripping your pretty throat just a little tighter as he feels your pulse thump wildly against his finger. “You’re a real whore, getting turned on by this.”

You whine out a choked protest that’s half a sobbing beg but you don’t know what you’re begging for at this point as your mind clouds over with just him and his thick length that rams into your sticky walls.

He releases your neck and reaches down to rub at your puffy clit, rolling rough circles onto the poor thing causing a half silent yelp to escape you. It’s so much, too much at once and you can feel his dick twitch inside of you when your walls flutter around him.

“Gonna ruin this pussy, g’na fill you up an’ keep you full so everyone knows who ya belong to,” His thrusts have grown a bit out of rhythm and he groans from above you, your hands grabbing at the tree in front of you for support as he uses you like a fucking fleshlight.

“Don’t cum cuz of this, doll.” He laughs at the way your moans raise in pitch and how breathy you just got as he continues to circle your sensitive bundle of nerves, your climax growing closer by the second and you want to stop him so you don’t reach that heavenly peak but it’s just too good. You don’t want it to stop, you don’t want any of it to end and you’re disgusted with yourself.

He leans down over your shoulder, hot breath fanning over the shell your ear. “If you fuckin’ cum you’ll never make it outta here.” He whispers lowly, breathing ragged as his hips stutter. He’s close. “If you— ngh, cum around my cock you’ll never see the light of day again, doll.”

You whisper out ‘no’s in protest, sobbing against the rough bark that irritates and pokes at your skin. His threats scare the logical part of your brain that screams at you to start fighting back but the incoherent and aroused part of you is begging for more, more, more.

Your walls spasm and flutter as you cream around him, his hips stilling as warmth fills you up and he dumps his load into your cunt. A soft whine leaves your hoarse throat while he pants over your trembling form that struggles to stay upright even with his hands holding you by your hips.

One thing was for certain in the front of his mind; He was never going to let you go after this.

“Good little slut.” He pants, leaning back until he’s pulling out and staring down at the mess he left behind, his claim of your body. He smirks and slides two digits up and down your drooling slit as you bite the inside of your cheek over the sting of overstimulation. He pushes the mixture that leaked out back into your quivering hole with a satisfied hum before pulling your skirt back down and over your ass before fixing his jeans.

He grabs your arm and pulls you into his chest before lifting you up and over his shoulder like a sack with little to no effort needed. He grins sinisterly to himself as his mind races with all the plans he has in store for a pretty little doll like you to keep all for himself. Well, until he grows bored of you at least.

The sight of the house grows farther as he walks deeper into the woods, you lift your head and you raise a shaky hand up reaching for the house and the very distant people still searching around the backyard, the flashlight of their phone waving around but never coming anywhere near you. They probably never assumed you’d go out into the woods at a time like this. Oh if only they’d just check in case of that possibility and then save you.

“I told you, you’d never see them again.” Your head falls limp against his shoulder blade and there’s no longer a sparkle in your eyes as you stare past the barely visible trees and accept your fate with one last tear that falls to the ground covered in leaves.

“You’re going to be such a good toy for me aren’t you, doll?” It isn’t a question, it’s an expectance that you obey him or bad things would come.

He squeezes your thigh as the leaves crunch under his boots. “‘m Jeff by the way. Don’t bother telling me your name, I don’t care to know it.”

#jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer smut #jeff the killer x y/n #jeff the killer #jeff the killer x you #creepypasta smut #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x you #creepypasta

[mistyresolve]

| Recovery (Hostage Epilogue) - Simon”Ghost” Riley x Reader

Word count - 1.9K 

Summary - It’s been a month since the incident, and both y/n and Simon are helping each other through it the best they can. After some encouragement, Simons decided to talk with Price about how he’s been feeling and Price says something that changes his perspective.  

Warnings/Tags - Slight depictions of PTSD/Depersonalization, Mentions of a hostage situation   

A/N - Ask and you shall receive 

Hostage 

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Price wasn’t harsh on Simon during their meeting, he had been understanding and empathetic. He understood the relationship between the two of you, understood that Simon didn’t just care for you, he lived for you. And you live for him. It was a symbiotic relationship in the way you too supported each other. Against Price's own beliefs, he still needed to uphold the rules and regulations and was forced by HR to give Simon a suspension. Price was able to pull strings and shorten it from two months to just one. Simon didn’t argue or try for an appeal because both of them were mindful that he needed the time off.  If only so he could spend time with you. Time he could also spend to reflect, and he himself could recover. He was far from cavalier about what he’d done, he knew and internalized it all. 

All that he could remember, and all he couldn’t remember but read from the reports that followed. 

In the past month, little bits and pieces of that night came back to him. Sometimes it was something mundane, like when he was in the kitchen and saw the glint of a knife while you cooked. Other times they came back to him while he was in the shower and he let his mind wander. Some nights he was laying awake beside you and when you’d begin to thrash and scream from your own trauma, he’d involuntarily imagine what you must have gone through before he got to the warehouse. 

He asked once, just once, what happened. You down right refused to tell him. You also didn’t tell him it was mostly to protect him. Work had given you a 6-month leave, with compensation and provided resources. You were receiving weekly counselling so it wasn’t like you were trying to deal with it all on your own. You just didn’t want to put any more pressure and guilt on him. Which he would feel. Even if he wasn’t deserving of it. 

There was something so heartbreaking in the way Simon held the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was part of why he’d become rather recluse in the last month. Not physically, he never wanted to leave your side, but it was like he was always someplace else in his head. He’d seemed to fold in on himself; it was like he was a blackhole sucking everything in. The good and the bad. 

You confided in him, let him know if it was a good day or a bad day. You let him hold you and comfort you. It was therapeutic for the both of you. He said it allowed him to “make up for his fuck-up”. It didn’t matter how many times you told him he played no part in the capture. In the torture. And the sleepless nights that followed. You tried reminding him that he saved you. None of that mattered though. He was still…troubled.  

You’d asked him to try and find someone to talk to once you realized you weren’t the right person for it. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you with his crisis or that you didn’t want to, it was that you couldn’t be the subject and the listener in this situation. He’d confided in you for everything else. Just not this. Not yet anyway. 

He’d agreed but said he wasn’t going to any therapist. Instead, he’d turned to John Soap and his captain. He was thankful you pushed him to talk to someone, anyone, because it helped to air out some of his worries and stresses. 

Price had been a good listener, an excellent one. Simon had always found Price’s demeanour calming, and might even consider him an older brother. He’d allowed Simon to say everything without fear of backlash or recoil. He offered him solutions and assuage.        

“Simon,” Price leaned back in his chair, “We get our hands dirty to help keep this world a safe place. And they are your world. It would only make that you’d do the same for them.” 

The men he’d killed weren’t innocent, he knew that, but it still bothered him. It bothered him that he could do something like that. Lose himself like that. Turn animalistic like that. He didn’t regret it because he’d do it again, but it frightened him. It was almost as if he wasn’t sure if he could come back from this one. A part of him wasn’t even sure if it was him, like he couldn’t recognize the recollections.    

And again the guilt of letting it happen. He felt that being in a relationship with you encouraged them to go after you. He wasn’t even sure if they even knew that you were together. It was highly unlikely they did. He kept it all under tight wraps. Even the 141 wasn’t aware, they had their speculations and all but they were never too sure. Price knew but never mentioned it to anyone. 

It was irrelevant now. They knew now. 

“I’d be more concerned if you weren’t upset,” Price continued, his eyes blazing with nothing but honesty, “You’re not a machine. And you’re not a ghost.”

Simon flinched back at that. Price was right, he wasn’t some boogeyman or monster. It was something he’d forgotten. He’d been living his legend for so long that he’d neglected the reality that he was still human. He was capable of feelings and mistakes. 

Something had changed when he met and got involved with you. You brought him back to humanity without either of you realizing it. Before he was dead set on pushing everything down, bottling it all up for later dates that were never to come. 

When he returned home after his visit with Price he was especially observant of you. The way your hair smells after a shower, and how the familiar scent calmed him. The way your voice seemed to enrapture him. The way your body melted against him, and you hummed into his warmth. 

It was as if he was relearning you. 

“You’re awfully quiet today,” you smiled up at him from your spot on his chest. The two of you were cuddled up on the couch watching a movie, a now empty bowl of popcorn in front of you. 

“Just…” he searched for the right words, “Just processing.”

You shifted so you faced him, the movie forgotten, “Was it a good talk with Price today?” 

“Yeah, he made some good points,” he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear so he could see the entirety of your face, traced a finger across a brow, “Said some things that needed hearing.” 

The knot that had been growing in your stomach for months loosened. He’d been so gentle with you. So patient. So attentive. He dedicated all his time and energy to you wanting to make sure you had everything you needed. He learned to make his presence known before making an appearance. He was naturally a silent walker, so he discovered knocking on walls and doorframes was effective. Sometimes he’d whistle or hum a tune in the hallway before appearing around a corner. 

He had also taken to sitting on the floor of the bathroom while you shower so he was close by when your psyche inevitably betrayed you and confused reality for memories. The water seemed to suffocate your lungs even if it was just rolling down your back. He’d usually be able to catch you before you hit the tiles, but other times he was picking you off the floor. He would shut off the shower, and dry you with a towel while you calmed. He’d switch out of his soaking clothes and then patch up any cuts and scrapes from the tiles. 

You tried bathing once, but when you settled into the water and it sloshed against the sides and against your skin, you lost it. He’d very very quickly hauled you out and drained the water. 

But during all this, he never really allowed himself grace. Never allowed himself to grieve, and it was beginning to show in the shadows of his face. He looked starved. Not of food or drink but of happiness, of laughter. It was starting to worry you, but hearing this admission from him was like the sun was rising after a month-long night. 

“I’m glad.” You reached up and picked a stray fallen eyelash from his cheek and held it out in front of him, “Make a wish.” 

He thought for a second before settling on one and blowing the lash from your finger. 

“What did you wish for?”

“I can’t ya,” he gave you an offended look, “Or else it won’t come true.” 

You scoffed, shoving at his shoulder, “You guys and your superstitions.” 

You settled your head into his lap, grabbing at one of his hands to trace the ink of his tattoos. 

He was entirely silent, and when you look back at him, shocked tears burned in your eyes at the sight of him.

He was completely unravelled before you. 

Stripped of any facade.  

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, eyebrows furrowing. It wasn’t an apology because of what happened, or of his own tear that rolled down his cheek. He was sorry he was just figuring it out now. That it took him this long to realize that he needs you just as much as you need him. 

“Oh,” you sat up, cupping his face in your hands and kissing the salty tear away, “I know. I know.” 

“I’m trying—” his voice caught. His brown eyes lined with silver squeezed shut. 

“I know,” you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Then his cheek. The line at his brows.   

He wrapped his arms around your center and pulled you until you were in his lap, your knees braced beside his hips. He shoved his face into your neck, inhaling your scent. You rubbed soft slow circles into his back, outlining his muscle with a nail. He basically liquefied at your touch, and it was like a little bit of the weight he was carrying dissolved in reply. 

You stayed like that and held onto him until the credits of the movie you were watching started rolling.  

“Simon?” you asked, as gently as you could, unsure if he’d fallen asleep or not. 

“Mmm?” he didn’t move. 

“Want to come get a soft serve with me?” you ran a hand through his hair and goosebumps arose up and down his arms. 

“What flavour?” he pulled back and looked up at you.

You rolled your eyes, “Blue goo. When have I gotten any other flavour?”

“Cherry’s better.”

“No,” you got up from his lap, holding out your hands for him.

“Why can’t we ever agree on anything?” he took your hands in his, got up and pulled you towards the door. 

“Cause everything you like is weird and vile,” you toed on your shoes, passing him the car keys hanging on the wall after he put his own shoes on. 

“You’re weird and vile,” he threw on a ballcap since it wasn't socially acceptable to wear a mask with a skull sewn into it, but still found comfort in the small sense of privacy. 

He opened the door for you, and you stepped out, but turned back to give him a kiss, “I love you.”

He smiled into the kiss, “I love you.”    

Masterlist  ❤︎  Tag List Form

A/N - he wished for your peace 

Tag List  -  @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @beakami

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley drabble #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod ghost #mw2 x reader #mw2 #ghost mw2 #MistyGhosties

[insomniac-dot-ink]

I am trying to find a purpose for regret. Shoving it into my spinal cord to see if it will straighten it. Feeding my ego one spoonful at a time to see if it will poison it. Jimmying it into the place behind my teeth in the hope it softens my tongue and weighs down the endless ugliness of language.

The God of Small Punishments is not merciful. This too feels purposeless. 

Shame rots my throat, a blackhole dimming the light behind my eyes. Like reverse-lighthouses, broadcasting to the world a person drawn inward, inward, inward. “But I’m right!” I cry. “I’m different.” I’ve sinned in ways you can hold, failures with grippy-shoes and their own radio stations, playing all the hits. Needless little cruelty and ignorance and things I can’t take back. 

The God of Small Punishments is also the God of Ambivalence. So you do it yourself. Yet,

Your spine refuses to straighten. Shame only makes spirals. Stuck in your memories, round and round. The only relief a re-living: This time, this time, this time. One last replay. One last poisoning and you’ll be whole again. Down on your knees, high on your pain, you go to the God of Domestic Martyrdom and they dub your efforts immortal. Forever unfinished. 

The God of Small Punishments is listening.

You ask to be prisoner and offered only antidote. Forgiveness, not a mercy, not a superlative or asterisk or wasted like some finite medicine. On the altar you sacrifice your purpose, your familiar, your glorious mission, your hurt. Open is the door, given is the words. Forgiven. The door to a sky too-large, light too-bright, burning in your eyes. You are forgiven, and this too you must bear.

#poetry #poems #spilled ink #poets on tumblr #poetry of self compassion

[jameswebb-discoveries]

Discovery Alert! In a discovery released on March 4, 2024 - Webb Telescope Just Found the Most Distant Black Hole EVER and Hints at the First Stars!

🪐 The James Webb Space Telescope (JWST) just dropped some mind-blowing discoveries and it's got the whole astronomy community buzzing.

Here's the lowdown:

Supermassive Black Hole from the Early Universe: JWST spotted the farthest black hole ever observed, chilling in the heart of a galaxy called GN-z11. This monster is 2 million times the mass of our sun and existed a mere 430 million years after the Big Bang!

Pristine Gas Hints at First Stars: Another JWST team found a clump of mostly helium gas surrounding GN-z11. This gas is super clean, almost untouched by heavier elements, suggesting it could be leftover material from the Big Bang itself! This discovery hints at the possible presence of the legendary Population III stars, the first generation of stars in the universe, composed mainly of hydrogen and helium.

These findings are HUGE! They offer a glimpse into the infancy of the universe, revealing how black holes formed and hinting at the birth of the very first stars. JWST is truly revolutionizing our understanding of the cosmos! ✨

What do you think? Did these discoveries blow your mind? Share your thoughts in the comments! #JWST #Space #BlackHole #FirstStars #Cosmology #MindBlown

Read more here - Webb Discovers Most Distant Black Hole, Hints of Primordial Gas in GN-z11

#JWST #Space #BlackHole #FirstStars #Cosmology #MindBlown

[wurm-food]

Smolder | Smoker x G/N!Reader

prompt inspiration from @bulle-blackhole: "An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose."

wc: 1.2k | cw: mutual pining, smoking, shot gunning, drinking (not excessive), suggestive at the end but still SFW | read this on ao3!

a/n: ok ok ok you all got me, I'm in to Smokey now. this prompt felt so perfect for him and it kind of wrote itself. enjoy!

The sounds of clinking glasses and soft music drifted into the cool, nighttime breeze. The last of the men from G-5 could be heard pouring back out into the streets, continuing their night of debauchery. It was a hard fought day, so naturally there was a need to celebrate. Captain Tashigi had left on her own to get a well deserved night of sleep, it was exhausting to keep the wildest of the Marines in line. 

Vice Admiral Smoker hunched over the bar, pulling a fresh cigar from his coat to light. Smoke billowing from his lips, he turned his gaze back to you from across the room. You waited patiently on the balcony ledge just outside, chin in your hand as you looked out at the sea. He figured you’d have your own plans for the evening, but you decided to keep him company for another drink. You’d always had your own motivations. Whatever those were, he was glad you’d stayed behind. Two crystal tumblers of whiskey appeared with a thud against the bar, breaking his focus on you. Placing his cigar between his teeth, he made his way back to you with drinks in tow. 

He wasn’t sure what to make of you when you were first assigned to him all those years ago. New Marines were typically too green or too foolish to stand on their own, not without firm guidance and a good kick in the ass. But you learned quickly, took pride in your duties, and became a fine Marine quickly. So much so, you were whisked away by former Captain Hina for your talents. He’d hear a passing word about you from time to time, admiration from your superiors, even your ascension to officer ranks. As you rose higher and blossomed in your career, he pushed an unnameable feeling deeper within himself.

And now here you were, back in his life after all this time. He handed you your glass as you smiled, silently raising it towards his own before tilting your head back for a gulp. Observing you out of the corner of his eye, he noted the curve of your jaw, the flex in your neck, the subtle remnants of liquor that lingered on your lips as you pulled the glass away. A curious, confident grin spread across your face as you swirled your whiskey glass between your fingertips. That sinking, burning feeling returned in his chest stronger than ever.

“Mind if I try?” you nodded towards the cigar that he held between his teeth. Smoker raised an eyebrow at your request, taking another drag before exhaling over his shoulder.

“Didn’t take you for the type.” he commented, maintaining his eye contact with you before offering the cigar between his fingers. 

“Yeah, well… spending time with Rear Admiral Hina must have rubbed off on me.” You plucked the burning roll of tobacco from his gloved hand, grazing his fingers along the way. You watched his eyes follow your hand to your mouth, your heart drumming in your chest. After all, it was your idea to be reassigned to G-5 and reunite with the man who taught you everything you knew, the man who never ceased to cross your mind.

“Old habits die hard, I guess.”

He swallowed hard at your remark, breathlessly following the smoldering cigar as it connected to your lips, spellbound through the lingering cloud of smoke. 

Unfortunately for you, your time as a smooth talker was over as you took the overly ambitious drag of his cigar. Fire spread through your lungs as you coughed, hot tears welling up in your eyes. “Fuck–” you reached for your glass of whiskey to ease your suffering. “How can you stand those?”

“Heh,” he scoffed, a smile curling at his lips as he reclaimed his cigar. Your face was red with anguish and embarrassment, eyes glassy with tears below your furrowed brows. “You can’t be good at everything, Rookie.”

“Vice Admiral,” you croaked, glaring at the name you could never shake from him. “With all due respect. Shut up.”

Smoker belly laughed, taking another puff triumphantly. You were never afraid to push his buttons, even as a subordinate. You had guts and he admired that about you greatly. As you finally broke from your frustration with a weak chuckle, he couldn’t help but note how his heart swelled, that feeling that only came from you. He took a swig from his whiskey glass before turning to face you fully.

“You know, I can help you. If you want.”

You took your last sip from your glass before setting it down. You carefully observed the gentleness of his features, the softness around his tired eyes.

“Alright, I’m listening.”

Smoker took a few puffs of his cigar, eyes not leaving yours. He reached his hand out in front of your face and motioned you closer. Your eyes widened, but you complied. His large hands were gentle to the touch, cradling your chin between his fingers while his thumb ever so slightly pushed your jaw further open. 

Your lips drew close to inhale the tobacco Smoker passed to you. The tinge of liquor off his breath and warmth of his skin millimeters away intoxicated you, the intimacy made it hard for you to even breathe over the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears.

As you drew away to exhale, your bottom lip grazed against his accidentally. His lips were softer than you imagined, even the fleeting touch sent your head spiraling. You opened your eyes to meet his warm umber gaze, your face still held in his hand like a precious object. You turned your head slightly to exhale, but didn’t leave his grip. His eyes flickered down to your lips, a slight pink tinging his face below heavy lidded eyes. A moment had presented itself and you decided to seize it.

But before you had the chance to make your move, Smoker’s lips enveloped yours, the scratchiness of his stubble striking against your skin. He was tender and purposeful, every inch of contact savored as years of pining from the both of you finally came to a sweet conclusion. You ran your fingers through his ashen hair as he pulled you closer, melting under your touch. The two of you had long forgotten the world around you, all there was to do was to pour yourselves into each other.

You broke your kiss for a much needed breath, only to find Smoker’s eyes widened in panic. He smoothed his hair back and took a final swig of his drink, cheeks fully reddened. “That was– I shouldn’t have– we–”

“Hey,” you reached for his hand that kept messing his hair. “Do you wanna get out of here?”

All you could do was smile at the flustered man, his eyes calculating his next move. He ashed his cigar in the balcony ledge before returning your smile, pulling you by the hand from the bar and into the night.

#line dividers by @benkeibear #smoker one piece #captain smoker #vice admiral smoker #smoker x reader #smoker x y/n #smoker x you #one piece reader insert #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece #one piece fanfiction #wurm.fic

[wanderingblindly]

Thank you Ella @epylonia for tagging me to share a snippet of a current WIP!!!! I've had such a hard time making progress on anything as of late, but here's something I've been toying with lately!

Welcome to my ✧・ﾟ: *✧idiots in love✧・ﾟ: *✧ blind date AU!

“That’s actually, um. It’s part of why I invited you out. To lunch.” Charles restarts their conversation inelegantly, butchering the natural transition. Alex just quirks a brow in response, still half focused on his lunch options. “I’m going to be around a lot more, and I’m getting to an age. You know, where I might want to, ah.” He can feel a flush steadily climbing up his neck, the still-full glass of wine before him not at all to blame.  Sensing Charles’s unusual hesitation, Alex folds his menu and leans in closer.  “Um. Settle down?” It comes out as more of a question, his voice tight as he tries to simultaneously swallow and finish his sentence.  “You’re kidding,” Alex nearly squawks, eyes wide as he takes in Charles’s increasingly red face – impressively red, really. He looks like he wants to fall through his seat, like he’s hoping the upholstered leather will somehow turn into a blackhole and pull him out of existence. Permanently. “You, Charles Leclerc, want to settle down?” “Remember when you said you’d set me up with someone? A few months ago, at George’s wedding?” Charles’s voice is still pinched, as if his throat is trying to suffocate him and put him out of his misery. “Maybe you could do that? If the offer is still standing.”  Alex just stares at him with his mouth agape, eyes wide as if he’d seen the second coming of Christ himself. Or the apocalypse. Charles can’t quite tell if he’s stunned in awe or terror, or maybe some secret third emotion that’s even worse.  Because calling him a flight risk actually may have been generous.  Charles is, according to his friends, a total man eater.   — Lando sprawls across Max’s couch, back bent around a pile of unfolded laundry and feet propped up on a crumpled up duvet. The entire living room is in disarray, and not that Lando is typically one to judge someone’s housekeeping, but Max is rapidly approaching mole rat levels of recluse. Like, he can’t even remember the last time the man saw the sun. In Monaco? A sin. The floor is littered with clothes, takeaway bags, and crumpled up cans of Red Bull. And Max. It’s also littered with Max, who’s currently mimicking Lando’s pose on the floor between the coffee table and TV – staring up at the ceiling.  “So,” Lando tries to break the silence, drawing out the syllable noncommittally. “How did you know you liked guys?” Max’s tone is flat, as it usually is when he tries to come off as unusually disinterested, but Lando knows his tricks. He shoots upright, looking down at Max with wide eyes before exclaiming, arguably, one of the worst possible responses: “Oh my god, Max, are you fucking gay?”

This tag has been going around for a hot minute, so idk who hasn't done it yet! If you want to, take this as your excuse :) I'd love to see it!!!!!!!!

Edit: formally tagging @likepilotlights now that she’s back from holiday 🥰💖

#wip #f1 fanfic #lestappen #lestappen fanfic #ask me :) #I keep trying to push myself to write different styles and then it all ends up sounding THE SAME WHAT THE FUCK MAN #Second Time’s the Charm

[yanderes-galore]

A yandere alphabet for Sigma from Overwatch????

I love him sm... sure! Banner may be low quality because I had to put it in a Google Doc, when I'm able to edit on mobile you'll get a better version.

Yandere Alphabet - Sigma

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Oblivious yandere, Multiple personalities/DID (Sigma), Manipulation, Kidnapping, Murder/Death mentioned, Violence, Trauma, Sigma was used as a weapon so it's expected, Overprotective behavior, Jealousy, Possessive behavior mentioned, Stalking implied, Forced relationship.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Sigma may be a broken man but he can be sweet. He's still rather nice to talk to, even if half of the stuff out of his mouth is nonsense. In terms of how he'd show his love… well I think he'd get along with you in conversation first then it goes from there.

He starts by just showing he cares by listening to you and expecting you to listen to him. He acts very curious of you and the feelings you give him. He's very subtle at first but during chats with you or others he expresses respect and even adoration for you.

I'd say he's in the middle of intensity. He treats his feelings as another curiosity he must explore. He also isn't aggressive (usually), often just an eccentric scientist who cares for you.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Usually Sigma isn't aggressive. Although he is shown to have three different personalities due to his blackhole incident. So while he is primarily in a personality that isn't violent…

The third persona, the one Talon often utilizes, doesn't mind getting messy. Especially if it means protecting you and keeping you to himself. You make his mind feel more at ease….

Can't he keep you for comfort?

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Sigma, despite his fractured mind, manages to prioritize your comfort and needs when he snaps and takes you. He's soft with you and often polite. He often likes to ask you questions and seems to be exploring how you make him feel.

He doesn't mock you, he cares for you too much for that. Instead he treats you like a personal experiment. Every chat and touch he offers is a way for him to understand you and himself.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Unintentionally he might but he doesn't mean to. Part of him seems oblivious to the fact keeping you with him is wrong while another part continues his little experiment. The crueler side only really appears when you fight him or others try to take you.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Quite a bit, actually. Sigma finds himself opening up to you quite a lot. He seems like he just wants someone to ramble to and you happen to be the perfect candidate to him.

He can be vulnerable and up front with how he feels. He wants you to feel the same so you may both be happy. However… he is still unaware that he is scaring you and just wants you happy.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

This is where the crueler part of his mind shows itself. He appears to express irritation at you trying to fight him. To the point he may even use his powers to hold you still until you stop.

It's quite pointless to fight a man who can harness gravity for his own benefit in his eyes.

Once you stop fighting he acts like nothing happened and goes back to coddling you. It's really odd and unnerving with how fast he can switch.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Not really… at least not in the sadistic sense. He hates seeing you escape but finds fun in learning about you.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Well… I'd say seeing his crueler side. Instead of being oddly curious, oblivious, and polite… he's cold. This side really reflects that fact he's a weapon used for Talon.

This side reminds you that he has killed people. He really isn't some eccentric old scientist. He's a weapon… and it scares you when he shows that side.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He isn't sure. All he really cares about is learning why you settle his unstable mind. The melody in his head goes quieter when he has you.

He knows he wants to stay by you… forever. He just isn't sure how he wants it. He's just happy with you.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Maybe he does and tries to hide it. Most of him is content with silently trying to cope. Yet another part of him finds pleasure in the idea of simply crushing whoever is causing the problem….

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He tries his best to be polite and affectionate. He expresses his feelings in odd phrases that you can only assume he means as flattering. He also enjoys holding you and allowing you to float with him.

He is genuine in his feelings. It's just his fragmented mind has altered how he thinks. He knows he loves you… he just ends up destructive when trying to show it.

He often sticks around you when others are around. It's clear he shows some sort of possessive behavior over you. Sombra, who knows him well, often relays how he's doing to you as a warning.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Conversations and observations. Like researching some sort of scientific phenomenon he tracks every detail about you. He's of course going to befriend you first before falling for you.

Then it starts as him happy that you entertain his thoughts. Although, as time goes on, his thoughts get darker.

His obsession causes a whirlwind within him as he tries to discern how he feels towards you. Soon he may just snap and decide he needs you. You help him… so he'll be selfish as life has treated him poorly.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Not really. Although your presence certainly makes him more… (un)stable?

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Using his powers to suspend you is one way. He controls gravity, after all. He doesn't want to hurt you, you're his starlight.

So his punishments are rather tame compared to most.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Before abduction, little to none except social instances. After abduction? Your freedom is taken then.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He is surprisingly quite patient.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Probably not. Losing you may actually make him completely lose it. Sombra actually gets quite worried when she sees the scientist go eerily silent and unstable. 

He probably couldn't handle it… the melody is just too loud.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Not really and probably not.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

The event that made him split his mind was most likely the starting point before he met you.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Wrong. He feels what he's doing may be wrong in a way. Then he tries to comfort you… despite refusing to let you go. He's too selfish to let you go but doesn't want you to cry.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Maybe, not sure what though.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

I supposed playing into his interests and feelings. Even then it's a shot in the dark.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Unintentionally.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Quite a lot, actually. He likes that you make him feel more… clear. As a result he often praises you… albeit in odd phrases and compliments.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Hard to say, he can either take a long time or snap rather quickly.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Unintentionally.

#yandere overwatch #yandere sigma #yandere siebren de kuiper

[blackholedjester]

you know that other bird i posted? what if i told you i had another bird at the ready?

Once again, this au belongs to @hahskeleton! super swag, super cool/vpos

i didn't have colors of Moon available to me while drawin this, so i had to improvise *insert jazz hands here/silly*

ansyways glowy boy <3

#jester b jestin' #blackhole bickers #digital art #blackhole's offerings #sun and moon fnaf #fnaf dca au #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf moon #fnaf dca #dca au #moondrop au #moon au #to quote one of my friends : “the one in the corner is me/grabbing the chest floof” #to quote their friend : “I wanna be whichever one is sexiest” #you thought you could hide lore in the tags >:3? #WELL YOU THOUGHT WRONG >:DDDD

[jamesleecult]

Apology and update note for the lookism tumblr community.

Thursday of December 21 2023

is the day where my Roman Empire is starting to collapse. Due to the 480 lookism chapter.

I sincerely apologize to all the Goo fans and all the Charles fans. I also genuinely hate Charles. So womp womp about it. (It’s satire/ for @myuiis)

I cant handle the flame on my goat, especially the ‘Charles Choi 2nd body is James’ theory. All my friends has been pushing the agendas on my pookie, nothing is confirmed. But I’m not sure anymore. The new chapter is starting to feel legit on the theory.

In a realm where imagination and reality intertwine, there exists a figure, a glorious and towering presence, who encapsulates an array of endearing qualities that transcend mere mortal limits. James lee, a magnificent being, stands as the epitome of sweetness, care, and boundless affection in my world.

At a towering 6'4", he commands attention with his breathtaking aura. His dull black eyes, like blackhole orbs, captivate the soul, drawing me into a realm where every glance is an enchanting journey. The radiance of his gaze holds a power that goes beyond the physical, embracing warmth and tenderness that nurture the deepest corners of my heart.

But James lee is more than a mere physical manifestation of beauty. He embodies qualities that transcend superficial admiration. His sweetness, akin to the finest honey, permeates every action and word, nurturing and comforting like a soft embrace on a cold winter's night. His caring nature, an endless wellspring of empathy, becomes a guiding light in the darkest of times, offering solace and strength.

In the tapestry of our connection, he stands as my king, a majestic ruler whose benevolence knows no bounds. His regal presence exudes an undeniable grace, leading me through the trials of life with unwavering support and understanding. He becomes the Lord of my universe, a figure of reverence and admiration, whose existence is intertwined with mine in a cosmic dance of fate and admiration.

James lee is not just a figure but a fusion of elements, my guiding star and the unwavering strength that helps me navigate the tumultuous seas of life. He is the "pb to my j, the grilled to my cheese," symbolizing the perfect complement to my existence, completing me in ways only he can fathom.

In essence, James lee is not a mere character. He is the embodiment of resilience, love, and the unwavering spirit that defines the essence of a hero. His presence transcends the realms of fiction, illuminating my world with a brilliance that defies comparison. He remains the strongest, the beacon of hope and inspiration, leading me through the labyrinth of life, forever my guiding light in the darkest of times.

James lee is not just a character. He is my universe, my world, and my everything. His existence is intertwined with mine, forever etched in the tapestry of my soul as the epitome of love, strength, and unwavering support.

The thought of this hideous old monster named Charles Choi being his actual body is sickening and heartbreaking for me.

#lookism #james lee #dg #jamesleecult #lookism spoiler

[wewebaggit]

i love how ur bio says safe space for hopper haters bc too many ppl in this fandom are always like “whaaaaat!? but how can u not like jopper 🥺” when he is not only a full grown man who abuses his power and was horrible to Joyce in s3 but also his character itself is literally copaganda

and it’s concerning and so weird (but also unsurprising) that jopper is like… elevated as this god tier ship, even in queer spaces, when in reality it’s pretty mid and also why would I want to ship Joyce byers with a cop

Hey booksandpaperss!

I am a safe space for ALL HATING. But specifically Jim Copper hate simply because he is shown a lot of undeserved grace by the fandom and the writers.

Since it's now in vogue to hate on s3 I'll take this opportunity to escape being called a negative nancy for once and just a hatering hater. Here goes:

My hate for Hopper is not as a result of season 3 but in fact it began with s2. (s1 a wee bit) But truly honestly deeply since season 2.

Hopper in season 2

After giving up Eleven's location in the prior season, Hopper then out of the goodness of his heart (😒) starts leaving Eggos for El in a reverse HansEl and GretEl. The feral El now has a home. But is it a home? Or just another prison? Hopper leaves her alone in the cabin with nothing but a TV. And so El spends her days mindlessly going through all the shit the idiot box has to offer. The only time she's actively interested in the TV is when she wants to use the static to get into the void. Because she has been kept away from the ONE friend she made out of the lab. And let's bffr. It's Mike. She is looking for Mike. And Mike too is the only one thinking about her. Hopper keeping her away from him and lying and being nothing but and angy aggressive cop of a dad is supposed to make the audience feel.....wait what are we supposed to feel? Mad at Hopper? Cuz the end result was people hating on El rebelling against Hopper. And it is all because El's resolution at the end of the Lost Sister episode was......that she needed to go back to Hopper and her friends. However, again it is a point in time when Hopper's at the lab and in mortal danger.

So since we love deep dives and shit and developing lore around characters, would she have been compelled to return to Hopper were he just, idk sitting in his cabin or at the station or whatever. A lot of ST is just about characters deciding to do stuff when someone is in REAL DANGER™️ But specifically with Hopper, he only steps up as dad when El's in danger. Otherwise he's treating her as a pet, something Mike was wrongfully accused of.

The whole entire (almost) year that El was with Hopper we do not see a change in her personality. Her rage has worsened. Her vocabulary is still lacking. In spite of the word of the days. There's no female presence in her life. He neither recruited Joyce nor her aunt (though that would have been sus, agreed n yet would it have been any different seeing as El managed to do it alone.) She's been held hostage for her own good.

Hopper: You put us in danger.

El: You promise. I go. I never leave. Nothing ever happens.

And then he grounds her. Like she was living it up otherwise. (S2E4)

We know it was because this was El's story of rebellion and trying to find her identity and so the story does not have Hopper do these things. But that still means that the story chose for Hopper to not do these things. He is even shown apologising (meh. half assed like his foil Mike, but that's for later) for it towards the end. And yet, that's something that's rarely discussed in fandom circles while talking about Hopper.

Hopper in Season 3

Oh he proves he's a blackhole alright. Sucked Joyce's character development. He's only marginally improved letting Mike see her but beyond that it's still mostly the same. She still is under-socialised. Speaks like that. El herself seeks out Max. Joyce is still too busy being ungrateful (I know not the intent, but the execution nonetheless) she's still not leaving the cabin much and has some curfew. Again which is, well why is it there? Cuz she's been coolly gallivanting with Max at the mall and everywhere else without a problem.

He's a proper asshole to Mike and a bully. Who tf threatens murder to a 13 year old kid? Like between having a chat and threatening homicide, he could come up with ZERO options. He needs emotional laxatives that aren't just anger and bullying.

Hopper in season 3 is an unfunny comic relief. A man baby. A bully who uses his cop privileges. Who treats the woman he supposedly likes like shit. He was so mad about Joyce not meeting up with him despite her telling him the reason. I mean mister you did that with Eleven too and just expected her to understand. The juvenile hUmOUr and the macho man action scenes where he's outwitting trained Russian mercenaries (lmao) is a step down from the basement he was already in. Him treating Alexei like shit when he was the only one who could have helped them. Make it make sense. (Anti-Russia/USSR pro USA copaganda and nothing else)

Also beyond all of this I simply hate Hopper for taking away valuable screentime from the kids that this show is supposedly about but hasn't really been that for some time now. He's a white male war veteran cop who's a Hawkins native and was a popular kid in school too. So he's not even an outsider in terms of being the new man in town, let alone the shit that really matters.

Hopper in Season 4

Not dead enough.

Jopper throughout the show

Mid chemistry. Joyce is already a semi-absent mother but becomes entirely absent after Hopper's message from Russia. She has ZERO clue of what her kids are going through in Cali and then has the fucking audacity to walk out on them without even letting them know that she might not return. She also leaves the only responsible person in that household with the charge as if she ever took it. She is now been relegated to being the comic relief which is neither comical and far from a relief and Hopper's girlfriend. Every season she has proven to be right on the money with her instincts and every season everyone including Hopper question her as if she's the dumb one. Hello. Do you guys clear up your memory after every season? It's annoying and one note. Hopper is a jealous manbaby all of s3 and a fucking liar. "i shOuldn't hAVe seNt yOu the LeTteR" Bitch u did. You wanted out. Dasvidaniya! El's college fund. But you'll only need it if you make it through school 🤷‍♀️. WHICH SHOULD HAVE BEEN HOMESCHOOL HELLO. Though I do commend the subversion of the found family trope where both the adults are pathetic parents. Do love one of the main couples being failparents! (is that a thing? or are they pioneers?)

#byler #stranger things #wewe's askbox #jim hopper #jim copper #joyce byers #anti jopper #kinda had to reel it in

[subiysu-chan]

Dark Fantasy

I decided to add to my main capital a good production of fungiculture, (because it cannot otherwise sustain a 600 000 urbain population with only 11 farming villages surrounding of 920 total). Probably Paris mushrooms, although it's not necessarely consistant with the tech level (although, it was already a year-round crop for Paris in the XVIIIth century). I think the simpliest way to solve this issue is to add domesticated cattails to their typical crops, and add add 9 more villages, which would still have a rather unsustainable farmer to non-farmer ratio, but because of imports, it would even out the amount of food the capital is getting. The eastern side of the province have some good wetlands, which tend to have demographic blackholes prior to modern medicine and a food production.

I think that, with four harvests per year plus the mushroom growing, plus imports, would allow the capital city to have all the food it needs.

The province of Penbre has a surface area of about 110 , 344 km from bird's eye view, which is on the smaller side, but it doesn't take the difference of elevation and the various hypothenuses this creates. I changed it to have 20 farming villages, creating a population of very roughly 601 000 individuals, a denity of around 5.4 inhabitents per square kilometer, most concentrated around the rivers with an almost empty back country. The region is well-known for it's production of clay, salt and wool. Because it is a capital, it's upper class creates a demand for the most beautiful pottery and tablewear the world has to offer in a booming bone porcelaine, earthwork and faïence artisanal production. Most houses are built out of stone with terracotta flooring in the city, but some walls of the particularly wealthy prefering brick and plaster, and out of wood and beaten earth in the country side, although some are made out of brick.

Being a capital city near the coast line, it benefits from many imports that trickle down to the villages.

The mountain with the square has an undergrowd Drow and fay city, and the lake houses also a fay population.

The local cuisine is comprised of soft-tasting bread with a nutty or sour undertone, birch-sap products of various kinds, butter, broths, broth-based sauces, stews, freshwater vegetables, cheeses, nuts (cedar and hazel) and cranberry wine. Because of the mer population off the coast, access to many sea-products is more diffecult, but freshwater mussles, crayfishes and carps are an important part of the diet, as well as some salt-water fishes, crabs and oysters. However, the most frequent meats are pork and pigeon. A particular cultivar of domesticated cattails and humidity-tolerant peas are cultivated locally, as well as small radishes. Shallots and rowan are the main condiments.

In the capital, due to the amount of imports, they add buckwheat, honey, wheat, rye, apples, grapes, blueberries, tea and coffee to their diet.

The province of Penbre would be surrounded by those of : Yaune to the East, Aulbec to the South and Lanye to the North. Lanye is the Northern Limit fo the country, but further east is the province of Lennes and further south is the province of Avalbre. Those compromise the entirety of the North-West region.

#dark fantasy #worldbuilding

[tblsomedoodles]

In your seperated au, would Leo still participate in the Battle Nexus? Or would he banned considering his adoptive papa is the Daimyo? How would that entire arc go in general?

For sure! I was actually talking with a friend about this arc, b/c not a lot of events change for it, but the context of said events sure as hell do.

For one, Leo's definitely competing in the Battle Nexus, though that would be the first time he had done so since he wasn't old enough until then. And he's super excited to do so. The four of them are actually properly invited to said competition (instead of essentially crashing it like canon lol.)

The other three are pretty excited about it too, if only b/c Leo is acting like a kid being allowed to go to a theme park for the first time. (Rafa's a bit...leery? It hasn't been that long since they left the gladiatorial arena so despite it being explained that the Battle Nexus isn't anything like that, they are still a bit uncomfortable. They want to be there but still. He gets more comfortable as the competition goes on and he sees the differences for himself. (meeting Traximus there certainly helps.) They still end up going against Mikey, but before they can start to panic about that, Mikey just offers to verse them in Rock-Paper-Scissors. Which they do and it takes longer than the actual fighting matches b/c Rafa loses 8 times in a row and the two of them start bickering over whether Mikey is cheating or not: ) )

As far as Leo goes, this whole arc is a lot more upsetting for him, since he has a lot more familial ties to the events. Like his brother actively poisoned him, trying to kill him mid-match. His father (the Daimyo) was incapacitated (i can't remember if he was poisoned too or what right now) by that same brother/brother's advisor and risked death, which was blamed on his other father. And, at the end of all that, said brother got yeeted into blackhole like thing (i'll rewatch those episodes eventually, i swear lol) and was assumed dead.

It's a lot for him. So it's good he has three turtle brothers who want to insure he's alright before he leaves their collective sights.

Thank you!

#asks #tmnt #tmnt 2003 #ninja club au

[cultofgalaxy]

⭐Starsprite Companions⭐

Starsprites are a celestial species found, albeit rarely, in outer space. Back in ancient times, when Galaxy ruled the universe, starsprites existed in their billions. Now, with Galaxy gone, they have severely dwindled in number, having been left to fend for themselves against Blackhole and his voidwraiths. Many have died over the years (and they cannot reproduce), although a few remain. Many of those that have not died have been turned by Blackhole, becoming his ungodly spawns after being consumed by him.

Starsprites in general are tiny, bright, living star creatures that roam the void of space. It’s very rare that they ever visit planets. They have unique abilities, such as shooting solar flares, and giving off light and warmth. They might often come across as a friendly species, but they can also appear hostile when they feel threatened by another species or individual.

In the present day, starsprites are an extremely uncommon sight, particularly in the night’s sky. its a common misconception that starsprites have the power to grant wishes. They’re arguably one of the unluckiest species around, for their decimation at the tentacles and maw of Blackhole, and their helpnessness without Galaxy. When Kinoko enters space, the starsprites must rely on him to restore their fallen mother Galaxy, and they will do anything they can to aid him in his quest.

⭐What role will they play in the game?⭐

As Kinoko explores the game’s various planets, he’ll occasionally come across the remains of crashed meteorites. These mysterious space rocks contain trapped starsprites. Whenever Kinoko releases one, they’ll join him on his travels, helping him out on his mission by protecting him from harm, and sometimes even providing powerful enchantments to power-up his abilities.

Starsprites in a variety of colours

Starsprites come in a number of different colours, signifying how powerful they are and exactly what they have to offer. All starsprites function as a single-use shield, but the rarer varieties offer even more useful effects. When you release a starsprite from its meteorite, there’s no way to know which kind you’re going to get, so there’s an element of surprise involved here. Behind the scenes, we generate a random number, the result of which determines which starsprite you end up with. You can be accompanied by up to three starsprites at any one time.

Example of how starsprites would function

In some ways, starsprites are similar to the Aku Aku masks you can find scattered about the world in the Crash Bandicoot series of games. Like the Aku Aku masks, which are found in crates, starsprites are found upon the smouldering debris of crashed meteorites. Like the Aku Aku masks, which protect Crash from harm, the starsprites have vowed to protect Kinoko however they can, and will shield the kuparkuke from a single hit of damage before flying away to recuperate.

Starsprite idle animation

The primary function of a starsprite – and it’s the same regardless of the starsprite’s colour – is its shielding effect.

Whenever Kinoko’s hit by an enemy or projectile, one of two things can happen. If he has one or more starsprites with him, one of them will shield him from harm before flying away. There’s no way to determine or influence which one will do this. You might lose one of the common yellow ones, or you might lose one of the rare ones, as well as whichever magical passive effect it was granting. On the other hand, if Kinoko has no starsprites available to shield him, he’ll take the damage himself and die. (He’s fragile like that.)

that wraps up this introduction to starsprites. Honestly, everything I’ve described in this blog post is subject to change, so don’t be surprised if things turn out differently. As it is, though, I think we’ve got a decent system here, and everything I’ve outlined here today is already developed and working.

I hope y'all continue to support this project as we're working really hard to make it the best as we can make it. 💖💖💖

#kinoko the kuparkuke #character design #video games #comics #space #indie games #indie dev #indie artist #indie project #aliens #sci fi #science fiction #cartoon #2d animation #indiegamedev #cuteness #galaxy #stars #planet #outer space #2d platformer #platform games #development #first draft