#like how fucking insane and crazy is that. and nobody talks about it. NOBODY CARES!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!

[davidtennantpussytulpa]

i think if we taught kids even ONE solid thing about insects we would have so many entomologists we wouldnt know what to do with.

#like. i remember in kindergarten we had a metamorphosis thing like oh the little caterpillar goes into his chrysalis and turns into a #beautiful butterfly!!! 😊😊😊 and that was it #and like. idk what i really thought abt it then. i think it was kinda just like oh okay. i probably just thought it went in there and made #wings and came out. but it fucking. IT BASICALLY TURNS INTO GOO AND CHANGES EVERYTHING ABOUT ITSELF #LIKE. WHAT THE HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #one day youre a maggot. little tube. with little dots for eyes that barely see anything #and you go and sleep really hard for a few days and take apart everything in your body #and wake up with eyes with thousands of parts and LEGS to walk and WINGS to fly #like if they told us like that. i wouldnt even know what to do id be screaming and reevaluating my whole life #like how fucking insane and crazy is that. and nobody talks about it. NOBODY CARES!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!!!! #it blows my mind.

[luvsturniolo]

hi!! i rlly love ur writing and i wanted to ask if i could request something where readers reputation is ruined by a false rumor which leads reader to thinking they aren’t loveable but chris doesn’t think that cause he’s in love with her?

basically the trope “one believes they’re hard to love and someone who loves them like it’s breathing”.

ー ★ !! unloveable

pairing : chris sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis : after some bad rumors are past around social media, you begin to overthink about whether or not you’re even loveable

a/n : ok but why this is request so fucking adorable ???? like the trope u put at the end makes me want to put my blood, sweat, and tears into this. UGHHHHH no matter who it's written, i'm gonna be 100% convinced it's not good enough because i love this prompt so insanely much

wc : 3.7k

you have been friends with the triplets for a few years now, and you all agreed to keep your face off of social media. it started when you jokingly voiced that you were a bit scared to be judged by the entire world. the triplets — mainly chris — took this seriously, though. they know how difficult it can be to have millions of eyes glued to you at all times. due to their awareness, nick suggested that you stayed off of their platforms to avoid any backlash that you're not ready for.

to be honest, at first you were a bit skeptical of his idea. i mean, you'd never had a ton of random people watching you like they always do. it seems easy enough, though. just make sure to keep your privacy hidden and don't do anything bad on camera. despite your questions, you agreed with nick's proposal. plus, the triplets are the experts here ; not you.

it's been three years since you guys came to this agreement. and it's been working out pretty well, frankly. nobody knows that you're friends with the triplets at all. nobody even has had the thought cross their mind. you're a random chick with a few hundred followers and they're famous youtubers with millions. no sane person would make that connection.

a year and a half ago, you and chris started dating. your relationship is the healthiest you've ever been in. he's caring, he listens when you talk, he hugs you a lot, he likes to compliment you, he buys 'just because' flowers.

you have had a past of toxic relationships. you told chris about them and he's been trying his hardest to heal the mental scars your exes have left behind. one of your past boyfriends was manipulative, another one was narcissistic, another was a proud cheater, and the last wasn't even present in your life.

"hey," you whisper into the darkness before you.

you're currently at the triplets' house, staying the night. nick texted you and asked if you wanted to have a sleepover — which you happily agreed to. you'd been watching a movie with nick in his room for the past hour or two, but he fell asleep a few minutes ago. you were on your way to sneak into chris's room when you heard someone rummaging through the kitchen cabinets.

overtaken by curiosity, you tip-toed down the hall to see who it was. you poked your head around the corner to make sure it wasn't an intruder. your nerves instantly calmed down at the sight of your boyfriend, hungrily searching for a midnight snack.

"hey," he answers, turning around to face you as you stand in the doorway, "why are you still up? it's late."

"i could ask you the same thing." you tell him with a light chuckle shaking your chest. you then walk into the kitchen and over to where chris stands in front of the pantry. he smiles down at you, causing your stomach to twist. its pretty crazy to think that you still get butterflies from him. most people say that you won't feel giddy forever, but you seem to have proven that theory to be incorrect. it's been nearly two years and you still get flustered when he smiles at you.

you lift your hands into the air before dramatically flopping down onto his chest. your wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shirt. he smells like home, a comforting scent that always makes you relax as it meets your nostrils. chris grins down at you before wrapping his arms around your torso, holding you by the waist lovingly.

"i'm assuming nick fell asleep?" he asks you.

not in the mood to open your mouth, you simply nod in response. he feels your head shift against his chest and he accepts the answer. normally, he teases you for being lazy. but chris loves it when you're sleepy like this. he loves seeing you all delirious and disoriented. teasing you would be like taunting a lost puppy — it's not right. morally.

"he always falls asleep when you guys watch movies together." chris says as though you didn't know that. "didn't he promise to stay awake this time? i thought you guys were planning to pull and all-nighter."

"that didn't happen." you say. your voice comes out muffled from his shirt presses to your face. "he pinky promised to stay awake, but fell asleep thirty minutes into the film we were watching. i stayed up and finished it, though."

"you finished it before or after you came to find me?" chris asks with a laugh. you just roll your eyes as a smile grazes your lips. he can feel the way your mouth pulls upward against his skin. knowing that you're smiling and he can't see it kinda pisses him off. your smile is his favorite thing in the whole world and he's missing it? that's completely unacceptable.

you yawn, blinking a few times to keep yourself from succumbing to slumber. chris notices your fatigue and asks if you're ready for bed. "yes, please!" you respond eagerly, excited to lay down with him and go to sleep in his arms. chris laughs at your excitement, honestly finding it adorable that you're so impatient to sleep.

the two of you walk back to his room together and you grin at the sight of his bed. you rush ahead of him and flop down onto the mattress. your face is pointed up at the ceiling as chris plops down next to you, looking at the ceiling as well.

"is this your equivalent to star gazing?" he asks you, knowing how obsessed you are with the thought of looking at stars together. it's something you've always begged him to do with you. but chris has refused. not because he doesn't want to, but because he wants to do it right. you're looking forward to doing this so bad that he refuses to settle for anything less than the absolute best.

he thinks the stars aren't bright enough in the city. he wants to bring you out to a field and look at them. but you still complain about it constantly — unaware of his little plan.

"yeah," you say with a groan, "since my boyfriend won't look at stars with me, i have to look at your popcorn ceiling instead. my standards have been lowered for you by a lot, i hope you know!"

chris laughs, leaning over to place a kiss on your forehead. he stays hovering over you before he whispers "soon, baby." against your skin. the feeling of his lips grazing your head tickles, making you giggle a little. chris's grin widens at the sound. he sits up and watches your giggles fade away, enjoying the bliss of seeing you smile like this.

"what?" you ask with a laugh, noticing the way your boyfriend is staring at you shamelessly.

"nothing." he replies with a shrug. "you're just so beautiful, i can't help but stare."

you look at him with nothing but admiration behind your gaze. it's truly surreal how far you've come in such a little amount of time. just a few years ago, you were in a toxic relationship with a guy who cheated on you with a different girl each night. and whenever you would confront him about it, he would turn it into an argument — which he would win every time. but now? now you're with chris. who is the literal epitome of perfection. you genuinely want to spend the rest of your life with him. nothing else matters but you two.

you and chris end the night in each other's arms. he holds your body against his side, your face buried in the crook of his neck.

the both of you find yourselves falling into an easy, dreamless slumber. this is your favorite place in the world — his arms. no matter what's wrong in your life, the feeling of security always patches every issue. regardless of how messy.

after a few hours of bliss, you jump awake at the sound of chris's bedroom door slamming open. the back of the door hits his wall, the sound of impact waking up chris as well. you feel his shift next to you, his arms still wrapped around your waist. you groan, not wanting to open your eyes.

suddenly, you hear chris gasp. then he pulls the blanket over your face, holding you against his chest protectively. of course, your mind jumps to the worst conclusion — someone broke in and you're all gonna die! you find out that this wasn't this case, though, when you hear chris's voice begin to scold his brother.

"nicolas!" chris shouts. the anger in his voice tells you that this is serious and you should stay out of it. "what the actual fuck are you thinking!?"

"i didn't know you guys were cuddling!" nick tries to defend himself. "if i'd known, i wouldn't have come in! you know i respect your decision to keep y/n hidden! why the hell would i ever do this on purpose!?"

"well where else would she be sleeping if she wasn't with you!?" chris argues back.

slowly, you peak your head out from under the blanket before cautiously asking, "what happened?"

"nick thought it'd be clever to start a live stream at eleven in the fucking morning! then, he had the bright idea to come in here and surprise us!" chris explains, still very very pissed off. "and of course he didn't think to knock like a normal person. he instead took it upon himself to walk right on in and record us!"

"i thought it was just chris!" nick says, stuffing his phone in his pocket now that he's ended the live. "i don't even know if anyone saw her. maybe they missed it and we can just say that it was matt?"

"why the fuck would i be snuggling matt?"

you laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "chris, lets be real. you cuddle your brother more than your girlfriend."

"i love you," chris says softly, "but it's now is not the time for jokes. this could be a huge fucking problem."

"okay, i'm sorry." you're quick to apologize, stretching up to press a kiss to his cheek before gently whispering, "i love you too." against skin.

you notice nick slowly back out of chris's room, not wanting to be around if chris decides to get angry again. you glance up at your boyfriend only to see that he's already staring at nick's departing form. chris is obviously still angry, but he doesn't seem to care enough to argue with his brother again. so he lets nick leave without giving him a hard time.

once nick is completely out of the room, you hear chris sigh. like it's a pained, saddened sigh that makes you want to cry for him. you look up to meet his worried eyes already glancing down at you.

"hey," you whisper, propping yourself up on your elbow to look at him better. "it'll be okay. we'll work it out like we always do." chris smiles at this before leaning down to press a slow, gentle kiss to your lips. you kiss him back before giggling and grimacing away from it. "i have horrid morning breath. let me brush my teeth before you kiss me."

you begin to move around toward the edge of the bed, aiming to leave and brush your teeth so you can start the day. before you can even make it to the side of the mattress, you feel chris's arms wrap around your torso and pull your body backward against his chest.

"i don't care about your breath," he tells you, "i just want you to stay with me a while longer. brush your teeth later."

you chuckle, "that's so nasty."

"pleeeease," he begs, tightening his grip around you, pulling your body firmly against his own. "stay with me, baby."

chris know how you feel about pet names. you hate them. they make you cringe. but when he whispers it against the back of your neck and you feel his breath against the hairs of your skin, you can't help the butterflies that swarm your stomach. you instantly give in and twist around to hug him.

"okay. i'll stay." you inform him, returning to the position you guys were in while sleeping. you shut your eyes before continuing. "but don't ever call me baby again."

"why not?" chris asks, clearly upset. "i could tell you liked it by the way you gave in so quickly. why can't i call you a nickname every once in a while. i think they're cute."

you groan, "i'm sleepy. let's talk about this later."

chris agrees and you both fall back asleep, enjoying the comfort of being in each other's arms. you know that no matter what happens with the media seeing your face, you'll always have chris by your side. nothing else is important as long as he is next to you.

the next time you wake up, it's bright outside.

you're no longer in chris's arms with him spooning you. you're now laying diagonally across the bed with your head in his lap as he scrolls through his phone. you blink a few times to let your eyes focus to the light of the room.

"mornin' baby." he says, quickly shutting off his phone and hiding it under his leg.

the action of him hiding his phone is enough to distract you from the use of the pet name. you raise a brow at his behavior, growing a bit concerned. you trust chris more than anything, but considering your history with cheaters, you can't help the annoyance that resides in your gut.

"what were you looking at, hm?" you ask him, trying not to be rude or anything. you want to stay calm with him because it's probably nothing.

"nothing, babe."

again, you ignore the nickname and focus on his suspicious demeanor. you thin your eyes at him, trying to read his body language. but it's difficult. he doesn't seem like he was texting some random chick, but why else would he hide his phone from you? you guys always share everything because he knows how you can get with this sort of thing.

curiosity overtaking your mind, you reach over and snatch his phone out from under his leg. chris opens his mouth to argue, but doesn't do anything to stop you from opening it and going to his recently opened app.

he was on tiktok, scrolling through the comments of some random fan page. you shoot chris a weird look before reading a few of them, your heart dropping to your ass from a mix of embarrassment and shame.

"did y'all see nick's live this morning?"

"who tf was that girl w chris? lmao she's not even pretty 💀"

"i found the chick's insta and she's apparently been in some rly shitty relationships. i mean lets be real. chris has never seriously dated anyone but this girl has been cheated on, manipulated, and abused? there's a clear denominator here. she's def done smth to cause that (for attention i'm guessing) "

"guys chris won't stay w her for long anyway after he finds out ab her ugly history!"

you read through the comments with an expression of pure disgust. how the fuck are these people going to sit here and talk bad about you when you've never even shown your face on the triplets channel? it's completely unfair.

you look at chris, but he's looking away. you wonder why he hasn't defended you on this. also, he was reading these people's opinions with a straight face. you begin to worry if he believes what they're saying. you glance back down at his screen, reading the third comment over and over.

there's a clear denominator here they had said. i mean, they're not necessarily wrong about that. you've been in bad relationships whereas chris has never dated anyone for a long period of time. in this light, of course you look like the bad guy. you can't technically blame their fans for judging you. you're easy to judge.

tears begin to prick your eye and you hand chris back his phone before wordlessly standing up from the bed and leaving his room. not once did he try to stop you or ask you to stay with him. you walk down the triplets' hallway and enter the bathroom, locking the door behind you and sitting down on the closed toilet seat.

you hold your face in your hands and try your hardest not to start crying over a bunch of teenagers talking shit on your name. but you can't help the intense weight on your chest and the lump in your throat.

to be honest, you don't give a shit about their insults. what you care about is the fact that they're right. you don't deserve someone like chris. he's so sweet and kind and understanding while you're irritable and skeptical of every little thing he does. you've done nothing to earn someone like him. maybe you have only ever been in toxic situations because that's what you deserve.

before you can stop them, tears begin to pour from your eyes. your cheeks become soaked with your pain. your entire body trembles as you sob into your hands, making it harder and harder to breathe correctly.

you love chris. you love him more than anything. you want to share the rest of your life with him. but you don't want to make him settle for less — the less in this case being your relationship. he deserves someone better. someone who won't snatch his phone from him when he's only trying to protect you from pain. someone who will let him call you pentanes because he loves them. someone who will be better. someone who's not you.

suddenly, you hear a knock at the door.

already knowing who it is, you tell chris to go away. your voice comes out shaky and hoarse, making it incredibly easy to know you'd been crying. the tone practically screams at him, saying that you're upset over something he tried to save you from in the first place.

"will you please let me in, baby?" chris asks. his voice is soft and gentle. you're suddenly craving the feeling of being in his arms. the feeling of being loved. the feeling of having him comfort you.

the greedy emotions you feel paired with the nickname makes it impossible to not open the door for him. you shuffle over to the door and let him in. you sit back down on the toilet seat, keeping your head downcast the whole time as to not see his face or show your tears.

you stare at the floor, watching his feet pad across the tiled floor before he stops in front of you. he drops to his knees so his face is in line with yours. you quickly turn away and stare at the shower curtain, letting your hair to cover your puffy eyes.

chris sighs before grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. he lifts his other hand to your hair, tucking it behind your ears so he can admire every inch of your beauty with no veil to cover the rawness of it. he lets out a shaky exhale, using his thumb to wipe away your tears. all the while, you keep your eyes pinned to his face. you watch every single movement he makes, knowing that you don't deserve any of the kindness he's offering you.

knowing that this relationship will not last forever, you begin to cry again. you lean forward and rest your forehead against chris's shoulder, allowing tears to pool from your eyes as he rubs a hand up and down your back.

"what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" he asks with his voice in a whisper. "i wanna know what you're thinking so i can tell you how irrational it is."

you laugh at him, but it just causes you to let out a choked sob. his humor is your favorite part about him. the fact that chris can make you laugh in any given situation is what you adore most. hearing him do it while you're thinking of how to break the news that you're leaving him so he can find someone better? this is gut wrenching.

"i love you." you tell him. "so, so fucking much."

"i love you too." he replies easily, not thinking anything of the fact that you're telling him this right now. but when you continue, chris begins to put the pieces together and he starts vigorously shaking his head in refusal.

"these past two years have been the best of my whole life," you tell him with a wavering voice. "but you deserve better. you deserve the world. and i can't offer that to you, chris."

"i don't want the fucking world." he says, grabbing you by the shoulders and pulling you to be in front of him to look you in the eyes. "i want you and only you."

"but-"

"no." he interrupts. "i don't give a single fuck what anyone else thinks. and i'm sorry, but i don't even really care what you think right now. because you're all wrong. i belong with you and i don't want anyone else even if i was paid a million dollars."

you stare at him with wide eyes, your dried tears still adorning your skin. the would could be ending outside, and you would stay in this bathroom and continue to stare at chris. his eyes are so gorgeously blue that you find yourself getting lost in them.

if you guys get married and live the rest of your lives together, your bodies will change. your skin will wrinkle. your hair will grey. your lips will thin. your hands will shake. your back will hunch. nothing about your appearance is permanent. nothing except the eyes. the shade, the hue, and the iris will all stay the same until they close for the last time. and you can't wait to look into chris's eyes for the rest of your life.

"i think you would be crazy to reject a million dollars for me." you tell him with a little giggle, wiping at your cheeks to rid them of the leftover tears.

chris's heart flutters at the sight of your smile, "there she is."

tags : @kasqnxx @lvrsparadise @prettysturniolo @strniolo @urmyslxt @cupidsturniolo @opheliaofficial07 @thetriplets3 @sturn1olo-ffics @uhnanix @deadxrx @kitaysworld @lovelysturniolo @wilmalovegood @ladylokilaufeyson5 @sturniolopepsi @strnilolo @knowingnothingnoel @its-jennarose @lea0518 @slaysturniolo @sturnlover @tcvazq

#luvsturniolo!! #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #smau #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #unlovable #request #reqs open #anon ask #tropes

[lucy4-ever]

nsfw headcanons about tom kaulitz pt2

!all NSFW!

he loves to literally just grab your butt cheeks when he eats you out

just starting to palpate your ass whilst he lets out muffling moans

cause yeah, he eats WHOLE YOU out

like not just your cunt, you see

now, as i said in my old post about nsfw tom hdcn, he loves your ass

but it doesn't mean he doesn't love your thighs, your breasts, your hands, your mouth and your pssy, obviously

but he's just a massive ass lover

he also likes shower fucking

like thats so obvious that when you both go to clean up TOGETHER IN A SHOWER

you'll be fucked AGAIN

when he's horny, he just comes behind you and start whispering dirty words in your ears

it can be in public, he doesn't care

then he'll just pull you by the waist out of the room

if you were at home, the second he enters your house he crushes into your lips and say stuff like :

"i need to fuck you... like right now"

"ive thought about you all day, about how good you take my cock and how great you look naked"

"i cannot resist, can i fuck you, my pretty little slut huh?"

he loves dirty talk

he makes you beg

if you're insecure about something in your body, he could just laugh and say how unimportant it is and that nobody notice

or he'll take you in his arms and say that you're so beautiful and that you're insanely attractive, you and your whole body

he might even say stuff like

"honestly, you're lucky i scare guys cause you probably would have want to fuck one of them, who wants to have sex with you so bad"

"but im more handsome and better at sex than any of these men"

and then you'd just laugh and everything will be back to normal

he also loves SPOILING you

but he likes offering stuff like tasty lubrifanr, lingeries, condoms, sxtoys, handcuffs, sometimes...

obviously as well as clothes, make up, perfumes, anything you want

depending on your mood, you could suprise him by being more flirty and touchy

and different when you fuck, like praises him and stuff...

and he'll just go crazy over it

he would love you being bratty

he's a dom

however, he may be a switch, once you too have been long enough together

also...

BIRTHDAY SEX

bro's being the horniest guy EVER

wether it's your birthday or his

but depending on what you want

if it's your birthday, he'll be whatever you want him to be

a sub? he will

a rough dom? he will

praising or degrading? he will

you can ask him anything and he'll do

however when it's his birthday (1st september y'all)

he expects you'll act the same

i feel like you'd fuck in the morning

then there's the party with bill, gustav, georg, parents, friends...

while you're still wearing hot lingerie from the morning, DURING THE THROWN PARTY

and once him and bill got drunk af (and so did you honestly)

he'll take you in a room and.. y'all know what's next

author's note : sorry it was shorter than pt1, thanks for asking @kitkaterina

love yaaa 💕💕!!

#tokio hotel #headcanons #smut #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz bf #smut headcanons #reader x tom kaulitz

[rustedhearts]

but i love him to death (steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: steve harrington is only known for one thing around this part of town: being a low-life piece of shit. but you love him, and there's no coming back from a love as bruised as this.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ main masterlist ✶ hunger

tags: insanely toxic relationship (these people should not be together!); mention of suicide; oral (m!receiving); talk of stab wounds and other cruelty; steve is deeply deeply troubled; depraved behavior honestly; reckless behavior; actually a whole lot of knives.

“white trash dick, but i love him to death. he’s so good to me, and to nobody else, so you can fuck yourself.”

—inbred, ethel cain

rural midwest. winter, 2007.

Steve Harrington knew what a cell looked like by the time he was twelve. How to handle a switchblade, how to gut a buck, how to step on another boy’s chest and hold a lighter to his cheek until he was squealing and whining like an infant. His first trip to juvie came the day after he turned twelve. The second came at fourteen. “That Harrington kid” could’ve been stamped across his headstone.

The big house came when he was eighteen. A six month sentence spent like a small town prince in iron bars. He reappeared with a cross tattoo on his left knuckle. God’s justice, he’d say. As if God would ever grant such power to a boy the likes of him.

The second stint at twenty-one was nine months and a year probation. The inked serpent slithering the inside of his forearm served as another parting gift. By the time you came to know him at twenty-four, he was a blackened, scarred version of the boy he used to be. You never knew that bare-skinned, freckled, lanky kid his mama talked about.

You only ever knew the man with the buzzed head, and a fistful of justice.

Twenty years old and still clinging to girlhood naivety, you walked into his world thinking it would be a short trip. You thought the date at the diner with an apple pie dessert and a kiss against the truck bed would be just another diary entry. Hearts around his name and a lipstick kiss across lined paper, you wound your diary up, tucked it under your head, and waited for his call the next day.

But by the time you were twenty-two, you had bookshelves full of diaries, all branded with Steve’s name.

September 2005

Steve picked me up in his truck. It’s old and beat up. I imagined it might’ve been a nice green color back in the day, like the color of the pine trees in his backyard near the property line. He held my hand the whole way to the diner. He’s so warm and rough. You can tell he’s not like those other boys I went to high school with, all soft and lotioned and cushioned with office life. He’s a working man. He’s not afraid to get dirty.

I guess I slammed the door when we were getting out. He said: “hey, don’t slam the truck.” I thought he was joking. But he just stared at me. He kinda does that a lot. Under a set of furrowed brows, eyes all serpent like. Matches his tattoo. Something about that look makes my insides skitter around. I know it’s wrong to get a thrill out of being afraid, but I think I do.

I don’t really care that he’s been to jail. I don’t care about the talk that follows him like a fly to shit. I only care about the way he kissed me tonight. Like being devoured whole. The way he holds me makes me feel so small.

God, I think I love him.

✶ ✶

April 2006

All he ever does is yell these days. At me, at his crew, at anybody that looks his way. It’s blown past cranky and stumbled straight into crazy. Mama says she doesn’t know what I see in a “piece of shit” like him. She said if Daddy were around to see that “low life white trash I walk around with” that he’d blow his head off all over again. I think he’s turning in his grave just hearing her say that kind of stuff.

And I do hate the way Steve gets mad like that. How he yells at me for slamming the truck even when I don’t, and how he pulls me a little too hard and fucks a little too mean. But he loves me. And I love him. More than I’ve ever loved anybody. We’re getting a place together this summer. Nobody’s ever asked me to move in with them before. Hell, nobody’s ever asked me to be their girlfriend before Steve.

But Steve wants me. He wants me to be his and all his and nothing more. And that’s all I’ve ever wanted. Those other people just don’t know him like I do. They don’t know how sweet he can be. How on Thursday nights he brings me sunflowers. How on Fridays we rent a movie and order takeout, and he kisses me and kisses me until he’s tired. He’d do anything for me.

✶ ✶

December 2006

If Steve keeps up like this, he’ll go right back to jail. My mama said it, the sheriff said it, even Steve’s fucked up daddy said it, and that man hasn’t had a single brain cell to fry sunny-side up and eat for breakfast since Desert Storm. But anyone can tell Steve is heading down a dark road again.

He loses wads of cash, only to show up with a heap more a few days later. Things are going missing. He comes home late. Sometimes I swear his hands smell like the burn of gunfire. I try not to get too curious because I know he hates when I pry, but I can’t help it.

I just hope whatever he’s doing, he doesn’t get in over his head.

✶ ✶

August 2007

Steve and I had a terrible fight. I think that’s all we do these days. Fight and break things and scream at each other until I feel like I can’t even breathe. Sometimes I swear he’s gonna pop a vein. Sometimes I wish he would, just to watch him bleed all over the fucking house. Sometimes I hate him so much I think about killing him with my bare hands, and sometimes he says he hates me so much he wants to do the same.

But then he comes back from wherever he runs off to, softer and quieter and soaked in Menthol smoke. And he kisses me. So sweetly, like how he did outside the diner on our first date when his lips tasted like brown sugar apple and pie crust. And he traces my body with his mouth and those rough, hot-plate hands, and I feel like nothing bad has ever happened to us. Like we didn’t just smash the kitchen up, and he didn’t just break my favorite vase. Like he didn’t tell he me he fucking hated me and wished I was dead, and I didn’t just tell him he was a no good son of a bitch.

I know this can’t be good. But I love him.

✶ ✶

When winter came, the cops were knocking almost every weekend. Huffing and rolling their eyes about another noise complaint, a call for a welfare check, or more “domestic disturbance” calls. Steve would shove the door open and roll his eyes, motioning toward the familiar-faced officers leaning in the doorway scoping out the mess.

“It’s for you again, sweetheart. Wasting everyone’s time.”

And you sent them off with a promise of wellness, assuring the officers that knew all too well the kind of man “that Harrington kid” was, that you were perfectly happy.

“I didn’t call them, Steve,” you muttered, following the stomp of Steve’s work boots toward the bedroom.

He flopped down on the end of the bed, reaching for the muddied laces. “Yeah, whatever.”

The room was freezing. You only used the heat when absolutely necessary—nose about to fall off necessary. But right now, you could manage through the frigidity with one of Steve’s old flannel coats and a sweater, feet bundled in thick wool socks. You gazed down at them as you leaned in the doorway, arms crossed tight to capture heat. Steve’s huffed breaths shuddered white phantoms against the old bed quilt, colors faded and torn from time. It belonged to your grandmother.

The house you shared with Steve, tiny and rundown and something your mother pursed her lips at when she came around, sat on the edge of town. The highway was a shout away. Sometimes you hated the sound of cars whooshing and semis blaring. But when the house grew lonely on long, cold nights without Steve—the noise was all you had.

“C’mon,” you whispered, fiddling with the frayed cuff on your wrist. “Let’s just go for a drive. Clear our heads. Like we used to, you know?”

Steve set his boot on the floor, shoulders hunched over his lap. He steadied one hand on his thigh, inhaling sharply. You peeked up to watch him stare off at the wood paneled wall, fixing on the cross above your shared bed. You glanced at the matching one scrawled on his fist in black ink. Shuffling a little closer, you watched his throat bob with a steadying swallow. Your finger reached out to touch it, running down the blue vein throbbing through the side of his neck. His skin was so warm. You brushed your other hand over his head, a little sweaty from its confines in a black beanie all day. But you loved the feel of the short, wiry hair fibers against your nails. The buzzing sound it made when you scratched.

“C’mon, Steve.” You kissed his temple, his cheek, the corner of his mouth.

You slid to your knees when you got to his throat, nose slipping through the grooves, feeling every breath he swallowed. Inhaling a highway cigarette, a whip of cold air and how it sharpened his skin, a spritz of cologne, a hint of gasoline. Hands gliding over the stiff canvas on his thighs, into the tough interior of his starched camo jacket. The outline of his pocketknife nudged your knuckles as they traveled to his ribs. You knew there was another tucked somewhere in his boot, one more in the pocket on his left calf.

The thought of his body's sharp silver blades had you trembling with hunger.

Steve eased back onto the mattress, eyes sinking closed. The utility pant zipper needed a little tug to come loose. His belt, sturdy leather recently purchased to replace one worn and cracked from wear, became a frustrating task to undo. But he didn't help you. He barely moved, stoically stagnant on the center of the quilt with shallow breaths.

Dipping your hand into the opening made by the release of his belt and zipper, your fingers closed around the length of his cock. He shuddered, a low groan echoed from his mouth with another puff of white cloud across stained ceiling tiles. His brows pinched together when you closed your lips over the pulsing head, welcoming in the warmth of his blood rushing all to one spot. The hot, wet cavern of your mouth had his hips shifting, shimmying against the bed until the springs yipped where iron rusted. They dug into your chest when you pressed into the bed, bookended by his thick, sturdy thighs against your shoulders—caging you in.

But you loved to be trapped. By his body, by his hands, by his kiss. Captured against him, knowing no other warmth but his, throbbing in your mouth.

Steve grunted and groaned like a boorish beast, fists curling and slamming into the bed as he swelled in your mouth and pushed your lips apart. And your hands roamed his thighs, nails scratching up the muddied canvas, clawing for more of him under the thin cotton of his t-shirt. The skin there was warm, too, and you sought every inch of it with greed in those wandering palms. You took special care of caressing the scar sliced across his right rib—a gash once nasty and bloody healed into something jagged and crude.

A parting gift from prison, a cellmate's final well wish.

With a sharp gasp, Steve spilled into your mouth. Hotness burst like a bad pipe, leaking down your throat and slipping past your lips onto his lap. When you had it all down, sliding its way to your stomach, you scooped your tongue over the wet spot on his crotch until it was gone.

And Steve lied there, heaving for air and squeezing his eyes closed, waiting for your final apology.

You tucked him back into his pants, zipper and belt secured, and climbed over his body on the bed. One kiss, two, three, pressed firmly over his eyes, his cheeks, his jaw. Every inch of him coated in your mouth and the aftertaste of his seed, teeth carefully scraped across his throat.

He pulled his eyes open when you were done, hazel boring into the heat of your face. His fingers smelled like the cold when they swept over your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You could feel every piece of skin breaking away from his hand, unmoisturized and overworked.

"I love you," he mused. He said it with the sugar coating of a piece of candy.

This was the sweetest he ever was.

"I love you, too."

"Let's go for that drive."

✶ ✶

He rolled the windows half down in the truck. You slipped a cigarette from the pack squished between the seats and lit the end off his, sucking in the taste of his tongue with one drag. You never knew what the true taste of Steve was like—only Menthols and whatever else lingered on him. Never him alone, never just Steve.

He rubbed warmth into your denim thigh with his wide palm, mindlessly caressing and squeezing through whitened roads. It hadn't stopped snowing for days. The roads, though recently plowed, were gritty with blue salt and rough to roll over. The truck's monstrous tires rumbled through town with the same difficulty as the little Honda chugging behind. Whatever song he had groaning on the radio sounded like gravel in a blender.

Glancing between your wind-blown cheeks and the blinding white world in the windshield, Steve silently tapped his ashes toward the snow and pulled drags with stiff lips. He licked them before tugging you by the collar of his coat, still buttoned around your body, until you toppled into his seat.

"Gimme a kiss."

You planted a sweet one on his mouth, inching away when you were done. But he kept you close, fist squeezed around the coat, chasing after your mouth with sharp teeth and tough lips. You giggled, careful of where you held your cigarette as you gave into his demands. He was driving blind now.

A few more pecks and licks and you tried again, nudging back toward your own seat near the frigid window. His hold was iron.

"Mm—Steve—"

The sound of a horn blaring had you rearing back, his grip loosened with surprise. Steve quickly veered back into the right lane, acutely missing the clip of another truck's bumper as it sped toward you in the oncoming traffic.

"Jesus, Steve!" you gasped, a cold sweat settling in your bones as the truck jostled on the snowy asphalt.

But Steve just laughed, carelessly reaching for his cigarette as it sizzled on the rubber mat near the brake pedal. You swiped your hand over your face, rubbing at the itch in your skin from the blood rush of near-death adrenaline.

"What the fuck?"

"What?" he muttered, mouthing at the butt for what was left of the cigarette.

Huffing, you squished yourself against the window and gazed out of it at the empty cornfield to your right. All it appeared as in the death season was barren land. Tufts of blanched grass poked through mounds of ice. A tire turned over on the side of the road where shattered glass exploded. The splintered wood fence of someone's farm abandoned by time. The water tower a few miles out, an unbelievable figure in the grey sky, stamped with the town name and bruised with decades of rust.

The cold that settled in your body numbed.

"What?" he pressed, tone tighter now. "You gonna fuckin' cry now? Jesus."

You swiped at your cheeks with your sleeve, ignoring the sting of broken skin where the weather broke it open. "Whatever, Steve."

His tongue clicked against the back of his teeth, withered cigarette chucked out the window. You shoved your fingers under your thighs to keep them breathing.

"I gotta make a stop."

You pressed your head to the window, ignoring the rattle of glass with every rotation of the tires and the icy chill it gave you. "Fine."

The stop was the gas station up the road from town. The first inkling of civilization in a stretch of void land, owned by a no good daddy that passed it down to a no good son. It was something of a tradition in this part of the country, you supposed. To keep businesses rotted with the cavities of crime in the family. To pass the sins of the father down to the son.

Steve whipped the truck into the lot and parked behind the ice chest, giving perfect view of the neon window and the liquor aisle.

"Can you roll the windows up while you go?" you murmured meekly, watching him reach for the ignition.

He rolled his eyes, but cranked his side up without word. He leaned over your lap to do yours, breath coated in Menthols and rage. He didn't kiss you before he pulled away, and you tried not to let the sting settle for too long.

"Stay here," he barked, the truck rocking momentarily when he stepped down.

He slammed the door, effectively trapping what semblance of heat you could manage with your own breath inside and giving you some sort of relief. Short-lived relief, of course.

Steve's hand disappeared into his camo jacket as he yanked the door open, only to come away with a blade. You straightened in the passenger seat, every nerve ending and vein boiling in anticipation for the first scream. They came, however, in muffled shouts. Shattering, smashing, the familiar sharp crack of bone on bone. You hunched your shoulders close to your ears and shut your eyes, holding your breath in your throat.

The world always stopped when Steve got in a knife fight.

It came rushing back in bleached colors and white sounds when the truck teetered violently. Steve flopped into the driver's seat, slamming the truck door with a cool ease. Peeking your eyes open, you gauged the extremity of the assault by the state of his knuckles. Swollen indigo where flesh split apart and cried red across the steering wheel. Shaking a little as they swept his hat off his head, revealing pink ears and a flushed neck. Steve wiped at his face and cleaned away the sweat.

You watched him sigh and shove the keys into the ignition, shuffling in his seat to get comfortable for the ride back. In a matter of minutes, sirens would start wailing. And Steve's wallet would sit a little thicker on the nightstand nonetheless, waiting for his return.

"Let's go home," he said, passing you a tight grin.

He kept the windows rolled up, and let them fog with the whir of heat from uncleaned vents.

These little affections, you took as I love you's.

#rolly! #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington au #joe keery #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington x fem #stranger things #stranger things au #steve stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

[comradekatara]

okay i just finished reading the yangchen novels and i need someone to talk to me about yangchen/kavik 🙏 does it count as a rarepair because nobody has read the yangchen novels 😭

ikr there are like 5 yangvik fanfics on ao3 which is crazy you guys should be going insane over them. like it should NOT count as a rarepair it’s literally the central romance of these books and it’s hetero (hetroooo jessica that’s her name) how is it so unpopular. i mean kyoshi/rangi being popular is good tho bc i do love to see dykes winning but yangvik fucking rules i am sorry to say. like i think they might be more compelling than the lesbos i can’t believe i am saying that but.

they’re both so insane and in really similar ways (extreme younger sibling complex) and sooo smart and manipulative and scary it’s awesome. i love that yangchen is always making kavik her bitch and she refuses to admit that it’s because his skills are useful to her and she likes having him around so she’s always just like “im doing this to make you suffer >:D” and he fully believes her. and then once he’s finally fulfilled his contract (by literally getting stabbed for her) he’s like “ok well i think i am going to move back home and become a healer now” and she’s like “omggggg NOOOO you CANT go I NEED YOUUUU” like she simply did not consider the being nice and honest approach until she could no longer extort him to get him to work for/with her she’s so fucking funny for that. also I love the line where she’s like “well. he has nice teeth.” what a strangely horny thing to think about someone, like okay you dentally-minded freak.

meanwhile kavik is constantly oscillating between “she is the all-powerful avatar” and “she’s just a sopping wet poor little meow meow. why won’t anyone help her????” and that scene where he tries her tea and it has like. amphetamines in it is so fucking funny. he’s just like damn bitch you live like this???? also that scene where they’re playing sparrowkeets and yangchen is like “oh my god kavik is actually so bad at this game he totally oversold his abilities he’s literally a fucking fool and i was a fool to trust him” meanwhile kavik is sitting there like “wow this is so obvious and i am in complete control of the situation. i love how we are both on the same page about how i am totally fucking playing this guy rn :)” when he spins her around in the air and the rest of their team gets so fucking mad that he’s treating her like a girl and a friend instead of the supreme leader of the universe and they’re just like “um. what. we’re literally buddies. and yes we are also extorting each other. what about it.”

they’re so fucking crazy. and the fact that they never even so much as kiss is even crazier. kyoshi and rangi are like so much more confident with each other and yangchen and kavik (literal heteros) who are constantly dancing around their latent feelings and sublimated desires and for what. they’re both young and attractive the world is literally their oyster. what’s with all the fucking secrecy. oh right. they got that spy grindset. can’t even admit you have feelings because that’s a card that can be played against you. gotta act like you don’t even care about your best friend in the world because they’re a really good liar so what if they’re just faking their affection as part of a long con. never act on your feelings because that’s a weakness that can be exploited. they’re like the gay people of m/f ships but also what they’ve going on goes far deeper than that like they’re literally certifiably insane. both of them.

#creampuffqueen #asks #yangchen novels #yangchen #kavik #kavikxyangchen #I truly love them so much

[uselesslexbian]

bottoms (2023) sentence starters.

we've looked like shit for years, and we are developing.

we're finally hot. at least, according to me.

nobody's going to want to fuck me this year, just like nobody wanted to fuck me last year or the year before.

i've been building tension.

i'm playing the long game with her, okay?

what the fuck happened to her?

that made me so sad. what?

i don't need this negative, really sad attitude. please.

what the fuck are you wearing?

nobody hates us for being gay. everyone hates us for being gay, untalented, and ugly.

oh my god, she ate shit is what happened.

she ate literal shit? what the fuck?

or did you get beat up again?

yeah, we went to juvie.

i don't want to say it, but we're fucked!

why do you always have to flirt with other women?

it doesn't count if they're not in high school.

would you like a safety ride?

i'm sorry that i looked at mrs. reilly and lightly grazed her left tit, alright?

don't talk to me, you ugly bitch, okay? i do not talk to girls in overalls.

okay, i might be ugly, but these aren't overalls.

you're being really mean right now.

i heard you, like, beat up my boyfriend last night?

maybe i SHOULD buy a gun.

what? don't buy a gun. nobody said buy a gun.

guys do that all the time, okay? that's the point of feminism.

that's not the point of feminism. you also don't care about feminism.

why would you lie to me?

so you killed a girl?

i know how to take a punch.

i was thinking, if they were coming at me with, like, swords and, like, knives, and like, guns and stuff, and you taught me how to punch like that, then i wouldn't die.

can i be honest? you're a person who's not coping with what's going on.

sometimes, when you have a new hobby, don't show up.

that's my favorite way to be an ally. you just say you're doing something, and then you don't do any of those things.

my dad left me, and i'm incredibly punctual.

i'm gonna finally reverse-stalk my stalker.

i'll be able to kill my stepdad.

i love talking about my trauma.

i literally jack off after every single therapy session.

yeah, well, all women are hot to me.

we had to just, like, fight people, sometimes to the death.

i still hear their screams at night, and that guilt will probably shackle me forever.

i realize now, i don't have to be that person anymore. i don't have to just let things happen to me.

i just get the hot people confused. jesus.

i can't answer that question, because i don't know how to read.

no, i would never cheat on you again, okay?

what about, like, a bomb? like a super small bomb. they're super easy to make.

yeah, let's do terrorism.

don't get distracted, 'cause we can be fined like $2 for this.

i really value when people use violence and raise their voices for me. it's actually one of my love languages.

no, leave the skin on his face, will you?

i'm not a fucking idiot. i just look like this.

man, i knew women were evil.

all of the blame just goes on me, then? like, none of this can be traced back to you at all?

i didn't want to do this from the beginning. you know that.

does it even matter? do you even care? do you actually like her? do you care about anyone other than yourself?

do you care about anyone other than yourself?

just find some other girl to jack off to and do nothing about.

if you don't wanna borrow firearms, then why are you here?

sorry, people didn't know you're gay?

i never had many friends, and that's sad. and as i've gotten older in this world, it's just gotten more sad.

okay, well, obviously, why would you lay it out like that? because it sounds insane.

i'm sorry for saying that you have no friends really loud in front of all of your friends.

i'm sorry for being an asshole a lot of the time. most of the time. all of the time.

that is obviously a red flag. are we not reading that as a red flag? that's crazy.

oh, now you want a bomb.

in your fucking dreams, which you don't deserve to have. when you sleep, it should just be like, total darkness.

i do want to say... i feel like you killed that guy.

we killed a lot of guys. we'll process it later.

you didn't have to start a whole fight club just to date me. you could have just talked to me.

#rp meme #rp ask meme #rp starters #rp prompts #ask meme #roleplay memes

[viviennelamb]

Fake Spiritualists

Nobody wants to talk about the present moment, like ever. Spirituality isn't about community, celebration and culture, it's only about your soul and God. I can tell when people just make up shit because of their vagueness and indirectness which is why atheists get annoyed with mystical speak.

Actual spirituality isn't loving and flowery to most people. Karma is objectively brutal and merciless.

How do I know? Look at the world around you. There's no separation between the physical and spiritual. What you're seeing is a direct result of the ordinary person's actions.

People who get on the internet with their imaginary spiritual platitudes are lying about being content.

How do I know? Because they're still dependent on their outer circumstances to reflect what they want. As soon as they lose everything or get a diagnosis and they haven't done the work to reach God, that's when they will become filled with rage and find out nobody cares about them but God, but by then it'll be too late.

Once you realize you're living in spiritual poverty, then I'll believe what you say about your inner state.

Conspiracy theorists (i.e feminists) will call you insane if you talk about Reality, because that's "woo" to them which demonstrates their level of delusion.

The actual people who are being raped, molested, trafficked and tortured as a result of superstitious heterosexual atheists and fake spiritualists who think their sex is holy because it's "natural" would disagree.

But since they're traumatized into silence and are unable to even perceive what is going on because they've been so incredibly manipulated by just about everybody, their intuition has eroded into nothing.

Luckily I have no trauma, and I know my soul so I can say whatever the fuck I want while people who have the whole world backing them are scared to say anything "too controversial" because they worship men and are prideful about being hideously vain.

The point of Religion is to end suffering. If your "religion" doesn't end aim to minimize suffering it's a hobby or a dogma that's intended to increase suffering.

Karmic Law is the only law that actually exists and Religion is living in accordance to Karmic Law to reduce suffering, not only for oneself but everybody and everything.

Cause and Effect is what every science studies in some manner because there's nothing else to study. Karma is the whole of Law and how the universe works. Karma is why time and space continues indefinitely and Karma keeps every atom in motion which materializes the unseen (thought) into the physical realm.

Bragging about being too dense to know this isn't something you should to brag about, claiming that Reality is "made up" just because you're slow and have never lived in the present moment isn't something to be proud of.

Physics studies Cause and Effect directly, but not in a manner that is relevant to the everyday person - that's what Yogis do.

Everyday, the most relevant aspect of Cause and Effect is lust and sex. Nothing else comes close to the relevance of lust because lust is the root of all evil.

Lust is the reason why the human population is the way it is now and why everybody's motivation to continue living. Sexophiles say this themselves, so this is nothing new: what makes an ego "human" is sex and their reason to live is to fuck.

Since just about everybody thinks sex is a good thing, more of that "good thing" will happen to everybody, including children. Doesn't matter how much you pull up to your pointless rallies and protest against abuse when you go home and sexually abuse yourself and your partner daily.

Nobody gives a fuck though.

What makes it difficult to demonstrate Reality is that we are currently immersed in it. Since everything that is happening Now is considered "normal," saying anything about Reality is considered crazy because pridefully mediocre people hate actual facts and actual science.

So, the ordinary person is in la la land, far out into a future that doesn't exist, dreaming about an all female paradise, which is possible, but won't take the steps to get to that goal right now...

(or she's in a traumatic past, constantly talking about what happened 10 years ago - or even the times before her birth - to notice her current circumstances are a direct result of her actions and becomes a perpetual victim instead).

In the end, what everybody is saying (except for people who live in Reality) are just opinions on how to become happy. But they can't find a way to get there which is why they spend their time arguing online, with every molecule of hubris they can muster up, instead of turning to solitude and silence which is the only place true, enduring happiness can be found.

Your peace of mind makes you a zillionaire regardless of anybody's opinion of you.

To get to that utopian ideal, you have to become a utopian citizen. Want children protected? Become a living aegis for innocence. Want rape to never happen again? Stop fucking. Want to become fearless and untouchable? Realize God.

Change yourself. Nobody else has to change but you because you are the catalyst for change.

The purpose of real Religion is to become blissful.

How does one become blissful?

By living a Spiritual Life.

How does one live a Spiritual Life?

Chastity, scientific meditation and loving God.

That's it. It's that simple.

If you are a real truth seeker who is willing to do whatever it takes to have a peaceful mind, like I was, this wouldn't be a difficult decision for you. The reason why people are avoiding this simple truth is because they like living in agony

When occultists bring up tarot cards and astrology, or in atheists' case the DSM and their millions of hobbies, you know they're desperate to find something to work for them cause whatever they're doing is yet another distraction from the reality that they have nothing.

The only "science" that matters is the Science of Concentration because that is the only way you can live in the Present Moment which is God.

Pause for a moment, look up from your screen and observe the world around you without judgement... that is God. That momentary feeling you had just now of complete stillness and awareness of the totality of Reality is what few people experience 100% of the time after years and decades of daily effort in meditation.

When you live a Spiritual Lifestyle, that is when you're Religious.

When you are 100% God-Realized, as you in live in the Present Moment 100% of the time, that is when you're Spiritual.

In a world like this, reclaiming all of your concentration or attention is paramount. Only those who are actually suffering will choose this path. People who like killing their time become atheists and psychopaths become occultists. Once you start getting even a little bit of your concentration back, the fears of the future and anxieties of the past become non-existent, you progressively kill your wants and eradicate your egotism altogether.

The untrained mind freaks out and seeks the nearest distraction because the Present Moment is horrifying to a rotting brain. Can't distract yourself from your karmic depression and nervousness anymore. Can't distract yourself from the world as it is, you gotta go on social media and look at a carefully edited and color graded world because you depend on "hope."

There's no hope. There's only individual, persistent action without breaks. Religious daily sex has brought this world into its current rape-saturated circumstance so what do you think you have to do to get out of it?

Oh, that's too extreme? Then you don't actually want what you think you want. You want filth and degradation and that's what you got. Have fun!

If not, what are you going to do right now to make the world a better place? More theorizing about how to get sustainably raped and femicided by your husbands in a "natural way" or apply absolute purity to your life to experience absolute liberation?

You know, liberation is what a borderline penis-worshipping feminist and her pedophilic sadistic husband can't give you. You're already in the depths of hell if you want approval from these mean and ugly motherfuckers.

The "old religion" was male-worship which is what is getting women and children abused and trafficked enmasse right now. In fact, as long as women keep fucking men, patriarchal phallocentrism will remain the number one philosophy as everything else stems from male-worship, even your precious matriarchy.

The Matriarchy is for Straight female supremacists who want better heterosexual sex and breeding conditions. Nobody owes you that and it will never happen anyways. Sucking dick whether it's with your mouth or vagina will always end in a female holocaust which is happening right now. Anybody with sense has left fake feminism.

The massacre of women, more specifically female children, is regimented, organized and systemized. It's actually a fucking algorithm at this point and I have yet to see any feminists talk about that, ironically. Y'all don't care and the few who do talk about fucking inbetween their false concern about female children. Enjoy your deaths by the dicks you want to "cooperate" with! 🥰

Deeming sex as healing or pure when it causes mass calamity is your #1 problem regardless of who you think you are. If you man-haters want to oppress men in a matriarchy, which isn't possible when you're having sex with him, this will lead right back to women's current slavery because Cause and Effect is the only reality.

What you have dominion over will dominate you, which is exactly what is happening to women right now by choice while you're prideful about being "the closest thing to god on earth" because you give birth to egos. Men are acting in perfect accordance to what females want and they're here to make you live in fear forever until you learn what discipline is.

If there was, one of your useless feminist theories on "finding the right of sex position to make him love me" would've worked by now.

P.S. the only Divine Feminine and Divine Masculine is having a pure heart from Chastity and loving God. Nothing else.

There is already a Cosmic system in place and we're living it right Now. You have to reform yourself before anything else can change and if you're not willing to become pure, as in destroy every particle of lust within you, then you're the problem.

#spirituality #religion #if you don't understand basic physics: the more you think against innocence (& its defenders) the worse your life will get.

[highwayorgantrade]

Sciamachy

Pairing: Reader x König

Summary: Sciamachy - (noun) Fighting with a shadow: A mock or futile combat.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: In-detail descriptions of a panic attack, anxiety, brief mention of death, mentions of vomiting, cursing

A/N: k so nobody asked for this, BUT I see a lot of fics where the reader is carrying König emotionally, and I kind of wanted to see it flipped? idk. but also, again, be careful reading this if panic attacks are triggering for you. (on a personal note I only made this because I've been having hella panic attacks lately and it's kinda concerning bc I haven't had them since I was like,,, 14?? so yeah and i don't have health insurance so fuck the doctor we raw doggin)

You didn't know what was wrong. You had done everything you were supposed to. You drank water, you ate today, you hadn't even done your PT yet, and yet you still felt like you were about to die. Your vision had gone blurry, and the sound of your erratic heartbeat thrummed in your ears, only adding to your swimming mind. You lightly slapped your hands against your thighs, desperately trying to return feeling to your fingers. You ran through your day again.

You woke up, you drank water, you ate. You spoke to König in the hallway, and it was nice. He was nice. Just think about how he laughed at your jokes, or how he leaned into your touch when you playfully pushed him away after he made a comment about Graves. What if he hates you?

And you were right back into it again. You grimaced, and forced the thought from your mind, and you stood up from your desk to try to lie down. Your shaking legs screamed in denial, and you opted to crouch on the floor instead, resting your head on your arm as you gripped the back of your chair. A gentle knock echoed through your room, and you resigned yourself to being as quiet as possible, and hope that whoever was there would leave. The thought of having to speak to anybody right now was killing you, and a tightness made its way into your stomach again.

"(Y/N)?" König's voice was soft, and it almost pained you. If he came in to you like this, what would he think of you? Would he think you're not capable of functioning? He would think you're weird. He would never talk to you again. "Alejandro said you looked unwell, are you okay?" His voice cut through your thoughts, and your rocking vision made you feel seasick.

"I'm fine!" You choked out, a little too fast to be convincing. The wobble in your voice didn't help. You were met with silence, and you thanked every higher power that you weren't going to embarrass yourself. Today. The door opened, and König's figure crowded the frame. Ah, fuck. "I said I was fine." You mumbled, and tried to hide your tear stained face from his vision. His boots squeaked against the floor as he took in the sight in front of him, and shut the door behind him. You probably look crazy. You look like a cornered animal. You look pathetic. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, you haven't done anything wrong." He sounded confused, and the thought of having to explain what was going on made you cringe.

"I just..." You hesitated, considering your options. "Yeah, I just don't feel well. Food poisoning."

König tilted his head, and you could tell he didn't believe you. Great. So now he thinks you're crazy and a liar.

"If you had food poisoning, so would everyone else. I know what is happening." He sat on the floor next to you, and looked down at the ground. "I'm sorry, but I'm not leaving until I know you're okay. Talking or not." His accent was laced with determination, and you sighed.

"Fine." You sat next to him, back against the wall, and you cursed at the tremors in your legs. "I don't know how it happened, I was perfectly fine. At first, I did think it was food poisoning, but I couldn't think straight and I could barely walk. My heart rate was insane and I genuinely thought I was dying."

"Did something cause it?" His concern warmed your heart, despite the circumstances.

"No, and that's what frustrating me so bad. Nothing happened." Your jaw clenched, and tears swam in your eyes. "I don't want this to be happening. I don't want to cry in front of you, I don't want you to think I'm crazy, I just want it to go away." You hissed through your teeth. König was silent, and you worried silently that your abrasiveness was pushing him away. You could hear your heartbeat in the quiet, and it tore at you.

"I would like to help, if you would let me." His voice was small, almost comical coming from such a large man. König's eyes darted between you and the floor, and his gloved hands fiddled with each other.

"Why would you do that?" Your relationship with König wasn't dirt-poor, but this was unexpected. The conversations between the two of you were mostly surface-level, no more than friendly banter. The deepest you got was König talking about Austria, and his family.

"Because I don't like seeing you struggle. It would not feel right to leave." His eyes were liquid, as he stared at you, searching for any response.

"Yeah, okay. Sure."

"Can you stand?"

You tested yourself by slowly rising, and immediately regretted it. Your mouth felt dry, and your head was spinning once more. Suddenly, you felt the floor disappear from under you, and you squeaked as König lifted you into his arms like it was nothing. For a second, all you could feel was his gear poking into your skin, and your mind began to race. Does König... Like you? No, he couldn't. Then again, who came to your room to check on you? Who volunteered to help take care of you? Maybe he was just being friendly.

He set you down on your bed, and you immediately tugged the covers over yourself to try and minimize your shaking.

"You know, I was on my way over here anyway." You smiled slightly to try and ease the tension in the room.

"And your efforts have been recognized. Gut gemacht." He flashed you a thumbs-up, and began walking towards your bathroom, unclipping his harness and gear on the way, setting them on your desk. You had never seen König without his gear on, you had always assumed it was somewhat of a comfort to him, like Ghost's mask. His long sleeve shirt stretched across his chest, and holy shit. You knew König was a big man, but this was simply unreasonable. Your shaking hadn't calmed, and the only feeling left was a pounding in your head, forcing you to shut your eyes. The only sound was the running sink in your bathroom, but you didn't bother to ask König what he was doing. It didn't really matter. As long as he stuck around.

"You still don't look well." He spoke when he left the sink, holding a damp washcloth. König crouched before you and placed it on your forehead, the headache slowly disappearing.

"I don't know what to tell you." You sighed and tried to press closer to the warmth in his hand, opening your eyes to look at him.

"Are you still cold?" His head tilted to the side.

"Yes, these blankets suck."

"That's no good. May you move?"

Your eyebrows came together in confusion, and you stared at him for a second.

"Move where?"

"Move over. Having a weight on you is very good for things like this, and I don't see another option." He began lifting the covers, and you placed your hand on his arm. When König made eye contact with you, you searched his face for any signs of bad intentions. The only thing you could find was concern and... maybe a bit of sadness? "Do you not want me to? I could just get you more blankets if you want."

"No, no, I want you to." Your fingers gripped him, and he stilled. "I don't want you to feel guilted into taking care of me."

König climbing into your bed would have been hilarious under any other circumstances. Your head pressed into his chest, and one of his hands rested on the top of your head, the other draped around your side.

"I do not feel guilted, I just want you to be okay. I know what you're going through. It's terrible."

So that was the sadness you saw earlier. You've seen König's nervous habits - fidgeting with his gloves, the frayed edges of his hood, but the dots never really connected until now. You felt the rise and fall of his chest with your own, and matched his breathing. König was surprisingly warm, and his frame wrapping around you was the closest to peace you're sure you've ever felt. Your shaking had completely ceased, and you felt his thumb lightly stroking your hair.

"Can I ask a question?" You mumbled into him, not daring to move your head away from his grasp.

"Yes, of course."

"Are you-" You hesitated, choosing your next words carefully. "Are you doing this to be friendly?"

You felt his breath stop for just a second, and you cursed yourself for even asking.

"I am doing this because the thought of leaving you hurt me. Leaving you while you're in pain." His response hung in the air, and his chest rose, like he was going to continue, but he never did. If there was any time, this would be it. You dug yourself impossibly closer to him, closer to his heartbeat.

"König, it's just that..." You inhaled deeply, using the last of your courage, and hoping it wouldn't fail you. "It's just that I really like being around you, and I like talking you, and I don't want you to think differently of me."

A sharp exhale left him, like you told a joke that wasn't quite funny enough to actually laugh at.

"While that is the best news I've ever heard, I would never think differently of you. I like you as you are, not who you think you should be."

His words sparked a deep ache in your chest, but it didn't hurt. It was the opposite - the ache was full of yearning and comfort. A feeling you couldn't quite pinpoint. Your eyes closed, fully intending on staying here as long as you possibly could. When König rest his head on top of yours, you knew what it was.

Safety. You were safe.

#könig x you #könig modern warfare #könig x reader #könig call of duty #call of duty fanfic

[ghostradiodylan]

Do you have any headcanons for how the hacketteers would deal with being sick? Maybe how often they get sick, what type of illnesses they are prone to, etc….

Way behind on Quarry asks but I am home sick with some kind of crud right now so what better time to answer this one?!

Emma - Emma is a people person and always on the go, so she's exposed to a lot of germs. I feel like she'd be the one to get into juicing and making smoothies for immune health and the 'sexy' supplements like Moon Juice or whatever Gwyneth Paltrow is selling (but nobody’s sure if she really buys into them or if she’s just trying to get a sponsorship). Emma has a system for any kind of normal illness that doesn't completely knock her on her ass and that is to take a very hot bath with peppermint and eucalyptus bath salts and drink a hot toddy while she's in there. (Just the one, she doesn't want to drown!)

Jacob - This guy gets the dreaded Man Cold and is the sickest person who has ever lived. He doesn't get sick often because he's fairly health conscious, but he's absolutely pathetic and mopey about it when he does. He wants to be babied because his perfect male specimen of a body and extensive supplement regimen have betrayed him. He hates going to the doctor and puts it off until someone makes him go. Kaitlyn brings him soup and yells at him (affectionately) to stop being pathetic. He drinks a ton of Gatorade when he's sick (always Cool Blue flavor).

Kaitlyn - Look, Kaitlyn's Asian and her family was wearing masks during cold and flu season long before it was cool. She doesn't totally buy into the traditional Chinese medicine stuff but she does believe in the healing power of food that's spicy as fuck, especially if she's having sinus issues. She's also a fan of long, hot baths or showers, chicken soup with a ton of garlic, drinking a bunch of tea with lemon and ginger, the sauna at the gym, exercising even if she doesn't feel like it, hot yoga, and acupuncture. If that doesn't knock it out, she's not too stubborn to go to the doctor, people like that (who have insurance but don’t use it) drive her crazy (Jacob!).

Abi - If something is going around, Abi just knows she's going to get it. She’s a worrier and a bit of a catastrophizer when she does get sick. She's a hand sanitizer addict, she's got those cute sparkly holders from Bath & Body Works (but she uses the Halloween ones all year). She's good about letting herself take time to rest and get her strength back after an illness though. She likes to catch up on trash TV while she's recuperating. She also gets allergy shots because her environmental allergies are insane. She uses a neti pot or saline spray often to ward off sinus infections.

Ryan - Our stoic boy is stoic. Ryan takes all the necessary precautions to not get sick, he's kind of an obsessive hand-washer for sensory reasons anyway, but when he does, he follows doctors' recommendations to the letter and rarely complains. He will typically muddle through like normal if he's not got something contagious, but if he has to take time off work or school, he doesn't really talk about it or look to be cared for, just holes up in his room alone trying to not spread it around--he is very conscientious. Ryan gets the occasional migraine and that's one thing he can't really muddle through. He has to be in a quiet, dark room to recover, with an ice pack on his head, a caffeinated beverage, and a guided meditation podcast.

Dylan - People love to make our boy a damsel in distress because he's a cute gay string bean that bad things happen to, but Dylan is pretty tough in the game (like, unrealistically tough at times). I tend to consider his amputee arc as main canon, so given the assumption that he doesn't die of sepsis after surviving werewolves, he's got to have a pretty robust immune system and probably doesn't get sick that often. He does have that whole under-react/overreact thing going on though (the air freshener lol), so I imagine that when he does get sick, he either just carries on until he physically can't anymore (he'd wear a mask and get vaccinated and all that good stuff, he's a scientist after all, but he’s bad about making sure he gets rest) OR he starts Googling his symptoms and getting paranoid, convinced he has some rare incurable disease (he doesn't). He also doesn't really like to slow down and let people take care of him but when they really insist, he not-so-secretly loves the attention, from his mom, his boyfriend, his roommate/bestie, whoever.

Nick - Nick turns into a slimy wet sex pest whenever he gets sick. No, I’m kidding. I think it’d be funny/ironic/unfortunate if chef Nick had kind of a sensitive digestive system. He will eat anything, especially if Jacob is eating it. But, alas, Jacob has an iron stomach and our poor Nicholas does not. So he gets a lot of tummy troubles from doing things like eating 20 year old snacks or trying to go head to head with Jacob and Kaitlyn in a spicy ramen challenge. Nick gets sick a regular amount with stuff like head colds and is just kind of middle of the road as far as how he handles it. He does however have a habit of making up untrue facts about Australia that he tells his coworkers and campers when no one has the internet available to fact check him and one of them is that a steaming mug of hot pickle juice is a favorite folk remedy for colds there.

Max - he doesn’t get sick often but he is highly accident-prone. Like, so accident-prone that his family has started calling them ‘Maxidents’ when he has a major mishap. He routinely falls off ladders, gets attacked by migratory waterfowl, trips while trying to carry more groceries than he should into the apartment, etc. Max is luckily a very good patient because he has a lot of practice. He also has a lot of ice packs in the freezer at all times.

Laura - she gets onto Max about being careful, getting enough sleep, eating healthy, etc, but Laura is a do as I say, not as I do kinda gal. She does try to be healthy and active but she’s really busy (busier than ever post-canon because she thinks she can outrun trauma if she never slows down long enough to think about it). When Laura gets sick she gets Leslie Knope sick.

Max has to put her in bed and take care of her because she will not admit she needs it until she is practically on death’s door.

#the quarry #hacketteer headcanons #sick bunny brainrot #hello beautiful anon #thanks for the ask! #belated ask answers #emma mountebank #kaitlyn ka #jacob custos #ryan erzahler #dylan lenivy #max brinly #nick furcillo #abigail blyg #laura kearney

[ronsenthal]

Part four of Jess Reads Fierce Valor we are walking towards the end of the WWII and also the end of the book

Notes: Y'all know the drill, I highly recommend that (if you can) read the book and take your own conclusions, this is my view from my experience reading it blablabla

nothing much insane happens at first as they are at Haguenau, just Speirs not letting sick pneumonia Lipton sleep on the floor so he ordered him to get to the bed while he spend the night on a sleeping bag

oh yes Webster being a poet describing Winters and Speirs as they were planning the patrol, they were in front of a creek, with some maps and aerial pictures and just random gesturing, he said he was inspired by those two tactical nerds

now it gets crazy and there is gossip about *cleans throat* GHOSTS and they were kinda blaming Speirs as they thought it was the ghosts of the prisioners from Normandy (????) that he killed????there were some accounts of spooky stuff going on even Nixon got some tales to tell, something with ammo carts moving around when nobody was touching it lmao

so as we know the first patrol was considered a success, but the second one never happened because WINTERS ordered them to sleep that night and come in the next morning with the news that they couldn't get any prisoners, pretty awesome if you ask me

they do the lottery thing but instead of Shifty one of his best friends won it as was released, they didn't mention it was rigged BUT it was his bff after all, so who knows (we do know)

HE MADE THE MEN WASH THEIR UNIFORMS like boil them down to take off the dirt and make their boots shiny again. We have Webster saying he liked Speirs and talks about his sincere smile that was endearing, really touching stuff

Lipton tells us how Speirs didn't drink or smoke and tried to stay in good shape BUT we have Webster saying previously that he had stained tobacco teeth so what is the truth???

when he got promoted to captain he got drunk and cried in front of Lipton??? because he was so ashamed of his behaviour and keep saying how he always took care of himself by not drinking or smoking??? and now they ruined him, but again what is the truth?

finally Berchtesgaden and we have Webster saying that Speirs more than once said that "there was an inverse ratio between courage and looting" while Malarkey said he was the worst looter, again the account don't seem to agree which is quite normal when it's about this man

the crazy vengeful bitch destroyed a fucking Mercedes, the account of the book is slightly different from what Webster told in his book, in this book they say that one of his sargeants found the car and but Speirs pulled rank on him and got the car that apparently was Göring's??? anyway from there is pretty much the same,

listen this is funny because they tried to pull a prank on him but he was smarter (word spread about the prank before it took place). Sargeant Mercier got his hand on some german officer's uniform, put it on and had some guards to take him to Speirs desk in full uniform, "Sir we captured this german officer what should we do??" to which he calmy and firmly said "Shoot him" and then Mercier broke character and Speirs told him to get out of the uniform and stop messing around

Webster telling that on VE day Speirs was throwing empty bottles of champagne and shooting it from his balcony, he and some sargeant named Carson were shooting bottles as target practise and Talbert came furious with the latter, because a certain Captain banned the careless use of bullets, so he was down after the guy but saw Speirs with him, and he was like "oopsie forgot my own order" and Talbert didn't liked Speirs at all and it was one of the reasons of his resignation, he wrote some letters to Winters confirming his hatred

okay so now we have de Chuck Grant incident, he was FURIOUS and ordered a manhunt, he joined them after securing that Grant would be taken care and was at good hands at the hospital, but yes according to Malarkey the "When you talk to an officer you say sir" did happened and he hit the idiot with his gun

after that the party was over, even Sink was pissed off and wished that someone (Speirs) had killed the replacement who shot Grant. Some rules were then set in place like cars and guns curfews, no drinking, not friendly activities with civilians and he got tougher again, he was even described as draconian during this time

we have some more accounts of Webster and Winters praising him as a CO and after being on Germany and Austria they were sent back to France

ah yes his wife Edwyna divorced him after her former husband was found alive in a german prison, so he was alone and lonely on his journey back to the US after the war

okay from now we are going toward the start of his long ass military career I think there are only two chapters left on the book

taglist: @mads-weasley, @mutantmanifesto @love--persevering, @gorgeousundertow , @grumpy-liebgott, @wexhappyxfew, @latibvles and @1waveshortofashipwreck

if you want me to tag you for this series let me know

#band of brothers #ronald speirs #donald malarkey #easy company #chuck grant #david webster #carwood lipton #floyd talbert #dick winters #jess reads fierce valor #mw*

[darkestprompts]

What’s one thing each hero does well without knowing?

Hm, the ask is a little vague, so I will interpret it as either things the heroes have the potential to excel at but never tried, or general skills they have but never noticed are out of the norm.

Man-at-arms: He thought of it as "tactical maneuvering" but in reality Barristan had all the makings of a great diplomat. He was much better at persuasion and charm than screaming orders. His talent was wasted in the military.

Abomination: Has a good ear for music, would learn an instrument easily if he applied himself. He has more sensibility than he gives himself credit for.

Antiquarian: Her fingers are very agile, but she never tried to learn sleight of hand. Thank fuck, because she'd be scary good at it and use her power for evil.

Bounty Hunter: Once Alhazred asked him if he ever studied the occult arts. Tardif told him to kindly sod off with that magic shite. He'd rather not know why he asked.

Grave Robber: Audrey never thought of getting her hands dirty before bankruptcy, but she would do well with gardening. She has the precision, the patience and the brutality to deal with weeds and pests. With her sharp aesthetic sense, she'd make beautiful pleasure gardens. Aren't graveyards just gardens for the dead?

Plague Doctor: Junia once told her she'd be a good preacher. Paracelsus laughed her way to the floor. It's true though. When she deigns to talk about something she cares about, she gets really passionate and eloquent, much like Reynauld. She just needs to learn to match her speeches to her audience. It's hard to be inspired by the biology of leeches.

Flagellant: Damian has very good memory. Perhaps that's part of what makes him so obsessive about sin, he never forgets his mistakes? He doesn't realize it's unusual, it has never come up. Mostly because nobody wants to talk to him.

Jester: Someone needs to find Sarmenti one of those 3D puzzles or building kits or anything of the sort. He's crazy precise with his hands and gets easily absorbed by the task. I imagine he could build one of those absurd domino mini-cities if you locked him in a room with enough material.

Crusader: Reynauld is a good army organizer for many reasons, one of which he never noticed is that he has an outstanding perception of space. He's the kind of guy that can estimate how many bricks should go in a wall at a glance. Could have been a master builder in another lifetime.

Hellion: When she finally learns to read, she will also learn the joys of writing. She will progress quickly by keeping a private journal and discover a knack for it. She and Dismas can workshop poems.

Vestal: It doesn't come up because of her vow of poverty, but Junia has a good head for managing money. She can squeeze a lot out of a tight budget and knows how to set priorities. If she was in charge of the Hamlet's finances maybe it wouldn't be falling apart.

Arbalest: Good with teaching and explaining things in general. She could instruct a few snipers for the Hamlet, if she was willing to let anyone touch her arbalest. If she got roped into teaching basic first aid the Hamlet would save a killing in Survivalist lessons.

Occultist: Even though he's a liberal arts guy, he can still make insane head calculations. He assumes the reason not everyone can make three number multiplications on the fly is just poor education. Everyone else thinks it's a result of witchcraft and the devil.

Highwayman: Dismas writes on scrap paper during his few moments of leisure, but he could develop a good writing hand if he had more time and a better set up. Maybe Audrey could teach him some calligraphy, she had to learn all that flowery crap. He'd find the end result very satisfying.

Shieldbreaker: ...Well, she already found out she's really good at killing people. Now she needs to realize she has a great poker face and capitalize on it. She could give Josephine a run for her money.

Houndmaster: He likes memorizing quotes from plays and novels, but it never occurred to him he could act or recite. Someone should make him read out loud.

Leper: Thinks it's totally normal that birds sit on his hand and baby fawns lay on beside him. "Oh, you just have to stay calm and not spook them". No, Baldwin, you are an animal magnet and people keep score of your ridiculous Disney Princess incidents.

Runaway: Would never think of herself as a sciency person, but one day her knack for systematically identifying plants will make Paracelsus delighted.

#darkest dungeon #asks #anon #dd lists #dd ensemble

[harlowsbby]

Texts Go Green

“She isn’t answering any of my calls or texts all my texts aren’t going through shits just green.” Jack was frustrated he tossed his head back onto the couch running his fingers through his curls.

The reason he was so stressed was the fact that the two of you had a argument just before his show in Denver which leaded in to him just now finding out that you left mid show and nobody knew, leaving you in a city you didn’t even know anything about.

“I tried calling her as well but she isn’t answering me either.”

“Or me and I called her five times already. What the hell was the fight even about? It must’ve been something bad if she just left. That isn’t like Y/N.” Neelam game Jack a confused look waiting for him to answer as he bit his lip rethinking the argument the two of you had earlier in the hotel room.

“What do you mean it’s not a big deal? You literally liked her picture well several of her pictures Jack.” This argument was due to the fact that Jack’s been liking pictures of Mariah and recent ones she’s been posting at all, hell you didn’t even know he still followed her but clearly from the screenshots sent to you by Clay showed that he did and was clearly catching up on all her recent moves.

“It’s not that big of a deal Y/N we’re just friends nothing else I really don’t see the problem here.” He didn’t see the big problem? Was he honestly insane or were you just jealous and crazy.

“First that’s the biggest red flag I’ve heard come out your mouth, you’re still friends with your ex Jack if I was still friends with my ex you’d lose your fucking shit.” Jack’s blue eyes were filled with boredom clearly tired of this conversation and had no energy to fuel this fire anymore.

“Hello?? Do you know care how I feel or think and your fans god it’s all I see on twitter and all that I’m tagged in how you’re still liking your exes shit on Instagram. She hasn’t done shit for you but drain you mentally but you’re still keeping her ass around.” That’s when things went south for some odd reason Jack felt the need to defend Mariah.

“Don’t talk about her like that Y/N she’s done more for me than you can in a week. Honestly just fuck off at this point I don’t wanna see you at the show.”

“Well you’re a jackass why the hell would you say that to Y/N? She’s nothing like Mariah she’s better than Mariah.” Neelam yelled at Jack she was filled with anger not understanding why Jack would say that to you.

“I know Neelam I’m an idiot and I don’t blame her for blocking my phone but now’s not the time Neelam we need to find Y/N.” Neelam raised her hands and pointed at Urban and herself.

“We don’t need to find Y/N you need to find Y/N if you love her and love your relationship you have with Y/N you’d go out and find her.” With that Neelam left the dressing room leaving only a guilty Jack and an annoyed Urban behind.

“You better find my friend Jack or I’m done with your ass man.” Tears brimmed Jack’s eyes as he looked down at his Lock Screen a picture of you with the biggest and brightest smile on your face with Jack’s face hidden in your neck was his Lock Screen.

He was gonna find you and pray to god that you’d forgive him.

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader

[flame-cat]

hey fellas so @boyswillbeboxes and I have been cooking a fun concept for a few days and I thought I'd share it with you along with some Images I doodled. the post we're talking about at first is this one right here but if u don't feel like looking at it tl;dr its kim glaring at jean and being possessive of Harry. synopsis under the readmore! tws for suicide baiting and suicidal actions

rat: THAT FUCKIN COMIC WITH KIM GIVING JEAN THE SIDE EYE I'M SCREAMING

GET HIS ASS KIM

me: DLFJFKFKF IM SO GLAD U SAW ITTTT

rat: I JUST DID

me: thought of u makin that

rat: 😭😭

I'm so honored

God lmao you're right tho

Listen listen if Harry fails the check for the karaoke and Jean is there and doesn't clap for Harry, Kim swears a VENDETTA

That's CANON

He brings it up at the tribunal he's so petty

The second one

He says some really backhanded shit I don't remember the specifics but he's basically like Enemy Sighted

me: he took one look at this man and went "is anyone gonna become harshly overprotective of that" and didn't wait for an answer

rat: NO FOR REAL

IT'S INSANE HOW QUICKLY KIM WOULD DIE FOR HARRY

I LOVE IT I LOVE THEM

me: like in my head it literally is just. jean is minding his business. he doesn't even do anything. and Kim is just glaring daggers at him from across the room. in my head it's a sitcom bit where every time Harry leaves the room with Kim and Jean left Kim threatens Jean's life and as soon as Harry comes back in hes Normal again and jean is like GET YOUR FUCKING DOG BITCH

rat: Nobody ever believes Jean when he says this is happening

"No he's so even-tempered he's really polite maybe you just misinterpreted?"

Or even worse it makes Jean look crazy

me: like jean comes back to his desk and there's his mug which is now filled with dirt and a sticky note that says "bitch"

he looks over at Kim's desk and Kim is staring directly at him with murder in his eyes

and then a couple seconds pass and he looks away like nothing happened and jean is like "oh its ON motherfucker" (it is not on. jean can't hope to fight back against the wrath of kim kitsuragi)

jean fills Kim's coffee with salt? Kim just drinks it all. completely straight face. doesn't flinch once

kim comes over later and is like "thanks for the coffee" even tho jean was SURE no one saw him do that

he goes to fucking pryce about it eventually and he's just like "I don't appreciate you spreading rumors about the newest member of the 41st. he's done exemplary work. far better than you. maybe you need to go through that sensitivity training again?" and he blows his fucking LID over that.

challenges kim to a fucking brawl in the middle of the bullpen and Kim is just like. officer you're embarrassing yourself *eyebrow*

his reputation never recovers. even more of a joke than Dick Mullen now

rat: Kim being so so SO careful never to do this when anyone else is around. But then one day Jean is in the bathroom, and then the door opens, and it's Kim. And Kim just stops. Looks at him. Smirks a little. Then reaches behind himself and locks the door

And Jean feels FEAR

Kim never actually touches him. But it's very clear he's more than capable of following through on his threats.

Getting in his space and grabbing his chin to make sure Jean is Paying Attention

me: jean starts looking over his shoulder on his way home. one time Kim tails him just to fuck with him. jean thinks he loses him but when he gets onto his street kim is standing outside of his building, having his one cigarette

jean is stood frozen. Kim locks eyes with him as he puts out the cig on his boot. walks away

jean i think starts to try and play dirty as well but idk how he'd go about it. he's too... hm. stupid

rat: Yeah yeah yeah for sure like. He tries to "trick" Kim into a fight but Kim is five steps ahead at all times, he never takes the bait

And god help him if he tries to antagonize Harry to get to Kim

That's when Kim gets SERIOUS

That's when Kim finds him in a dark alley outside of work

Grabs a handful of his hair, smashes his face into a brick wall, puts him into a hammerlock hold

Whispers in his ear if he ever catches him trying that shit again, he's not getting a warning next time

me: I think it'd be hilarious if Jean tried to threaten suicide and it just. doesn't work. I think it'd make sense for him to bait kim like "okay well what if I killed myself and framed YOU for my MURDER" and Kim is like officer don't be dramatic get over yourself please

rat: Kim just staring at him like "Okay then. Do it. Right now."

Maybe Kim even hands over his gun

Jean trying to turn the tables by pointing it at Kim

Kim never flinches

"Go ahead. Pull the trigger. Unlike your idiotic plan, I'll be missed. And we both know Harry never stops."

me: I just think that scene in the alley could end up with Harry intuiting whats going on, that an officer is in danger, so he goes to stop it and- hey JEAN IS POINTING A GUN AT KIM??? AND KIM ISNT??? STOPPING HIM????

rat: HARRY PUTTING HIMSELF IN THE WAY OF THE GUN

Jean having to reconcile the fact that Harry is no longer his, insofar as he was before

me: after a tense second of not moving. jean actually considering doing it.

rat: GOD Jean being like I could just do it. Shoot him, maybe have time to reload and shoot myself after. That might be the only way to truly Hurt Kim

me: kim catches on to that. and for the first time he IS afraid

hes fine losing himself. but losing Harry? he couldn't bear it. he would sooner die

then. all at once. jean drops it

he can't do it. too much of a coward. "GOD FUCKING DAMN YOU!!" punches the wall etc. definitely crying. meanwhile kim GRABS Harry by the shoulders. he's shaking with fury and also something else. "what the FUCK are you thinking-" and Harry cuts him off with "what are YOU thinking? what the fuck was that? what HAPPENED to you?"

Harry means "you two" but kim feels that in his soul

they leave jean to talk after that. and that conversation is not a pretty one

smth smth "I was trying to protect you" "that was too far" "he went too far first. he was hurting you" "so your solution is to hurt him back?" "he wasn't going to STOP" "then let me deal with it!" etc etc

no idea what jean does from there. maybe he actually fucking thinks and reconsiders things and idk grows as a person

anyway after that we get the dinner from hell

harry invites them to a get-along dinner. christ

GOD. THE TENSEST DINNER EVER. TO RIVAL ANY FAMILY DINNER

im just imagining them trying to throttle each other on top of some takeout

harry is yelling TIMEOUT TIMEOUT

composure failure

rat: Harry like "can't we all just get along??" and Kim and Jean say NO at the same time

me: they both point at each other at the same time and go HE STARTED IT

harry actually passes an authority check and scolds them and they both realize how petty this is and its all very embarrassing and Harry is treating this very seriously. fully goes "do you have anything to say?" and they grumble sorry and he's like "not to me. to *each other*"

rat: He only passed Kim's authority because Kim hates seeing him sad

me: slow look at each other. jean holds out a hand. Kim grabs it so tight you hear joints snap.

they still hate each other so so much but Harry is Determined to make them friends

its like. harry is their get-along shirt

rat: Harry like the power of love and friendship will prevail and Kim tries he really does but every time he sees Jean he hears the Kill Bill sirens in his head

He makes an honest effort to threaten his life less but that's all he can manage

me: I do think this could get resolved eventually tho. like harry being put in some sort of crisis situation where his life is on the line or something

rat: Wouldn't it be funny if the situation was something Harry put himself in though

Like getting himself kidnapped by a gang

Like "wow this will really bring Jean and Kim together! ♡"

Meanwhile he's literally tied to a chair with his face bloody and nose broken

And Jean and Kim HAVE to team up. They can't take on a gang ALONE

Jean pretends not to care but he cares so much it makes him look stupid

If Harry actually dies what the fuck is he supposed to do

me: it works but not in the way he intended cause it actually touches on the heart of the conflict is that Jean wants to blame Harry for everything ever and also he does care so much it makes him look stupid so when they find out it was actually sort of on purpose they BOTH GET MAD AT HIM FOR THE SAME REASON

a horrible, deadly pact is formed. harry is now in grave danger

rat: Harry wanted them to be friends. And now, unfortunately, they are

He's never getting let out of their sight again

me: I like to think eventually they do chill out and become friends about it. like outside of all that. maybe jean finally gets over himself and Kim and Harry have a talk about being posessive- lol I'm just kidding those two are codependent to the fucking grave. but still I think they could end up being civil and the death threats just become banter

the competitive streak never dies tho. constantly trying to one-up each other. functional kismesistude

#in the life #disco elysium #harrier du bois #kim kitsuragi #jean vicquemare #harrykim #kimharry #my art #pheo doodles

[yes0another0outsiders0blog]

SFW Alphabet : Ponyboy Curtis

Should I have aged Pony up for this? Maybe. Was I over halfway done writing this before I realized that with no desire to rewrite any of it? Absolutely. Did I give a few cheap "idk, man, he's like 14" answers on some of these? Uh, yeah, sorry 'bout that--

Mention of substance abuse/dependency in "ugly."

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Insanely, whenever he can be. Always wants a hug, always wants to hold hands. Incredibly lovey. He's 14, it's probably his first relationship, he is a reader and writer that watches sunsets so you know he romanticizes the hell out of every little thing.

The gang teases Pony a LOT for how affectionate he is with you and then he usually gets all embarrassed about it and gets all weird about pda for a while. Thinks that everyone is just jealous and nobody has ever been this in love and they just don't understand, really he's just easy to make fun of because he's a kid in his first relationship and he's really cringe and awkward about it.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Y'all most likely met at school, did a group project together or something and obviously he's such a sweetie that you weren't not going to be his friend.

You guys become quick friends, you're probably his best school friend instantly (because you actually have classes with him unlike anyone in the gang that's still in school), he'll always sit next to you. Constantly defending each other if anyone talks shit, he takes you to the movies and you two watch sunsets together because no one else cares to do that kind of stuff with him, you go to every track meet to support him and if you're in a club/sport you can bet your ass he's always there to support you. SUPER wholesome besties.

You also have to be his street smarts and basic common sense, though, because this boy has none. He'll go to do anything or open his mouth to say something naieve and you'll have to, like, grab his sleeve and say "now, let's actually think about that, buddy" because otherwise he's saying some r/im14andthisisdeep bullshit that will get him beaten to a pulp just for being annoying, or he'll start on some crazy ungrateful rant about how Darry should be a better guardian and you need to knock some fucking sense into him because absolutely not.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Loves to cuddle, but doesn't get to often. Darry is pretty strict about Ponyboy keeping his bedroom door wide open when you're there or (preferably) sticking to the living room or kitchen, so cuddling at home is a no-go. Obviously, cuddling is difficult at school too because, uh, teachers.

Sometimes you two will go out to the lot or skip a class and head out to the bleachers to lay in the grass and cuddle. Usually, it's very simple. Sitting next to each other with someone's head on the other's shoulder and arms around each other. One of you on your back and the other with their head nuzzled into their chest or neck. Kind of minimal touching, as far as cuddling goes.

He's afraid he'll be hormonal if the cuddling is too intense, lol.

Sometimes, when you two are in the lot, Darry *will* catch you guys but let it slide because, again, it's very minimal touching and could almost be platonic.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Good at cleaning. Doesn't really like cleaning, but would rather get it over with than live in a dirty space, so it would get done even if Darry wasn't there to constantly harp on him to do his damn chores. Does need the reminders because he'll honest to god forget about the dishes in the sink or whatever, but does them right when he does remember them.

Fine at cooking. Capable of reading a recipe, doesn't have the skill or experience to add on or better it. Does the basics, wouldn't be against learning more, but just hasn't really had the chance/need to yet.

Wants to settle down eventually. Sees himself having a pretty traditional/basic life. College, married, house, kids, that kind of stuff.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Would do anything to avoid a break-up. Ends up distancing himself and hoping you break up with him over it. Doesn't want to hurt you, ends up hurting you more than if he just sat down and talked to you about splitting up. If you don't take the hint and dump him he'll probably hand you a note in the hallway and leave SO fast so he doesn't have to do it face-to-face.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Again, overly romanticizes. Thinks that when he loves somebody it's the truest love to ever be felt by anyone. Is instantly daydreaming about the future. Ponyboy is big on commitment, but he's young so it's all an "eventually" type of thing. Y'all probably have legit promise rings a year in.

Just smart enough (that's a lie, it's because Darry said so) to decide to wait for actual marriage until he actually graduates and has a stable job instead of the second y'all are both 18 like he originally planned.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

SO gentle. Especially physically, treats you so good. Emotionally, he's really gentle but can get really socially unaware and ends up saying something stupid way too often because he just genuinely doesn't see/consider the issue with whatever he said. But the kid TRIES.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Loves hugs. Will hug you goodbye every single time you go to leave. Will give you a congratulatory hug if you achieve anything. He's physically pretty sensory seeking, he likes holding onto things.

Hugs are usually fairly short and sweet, though. Very warm and nice, but if it goes on for too long then he feels a bit awkward. Like, he doesn't know what to do with his hands after a while and starts to worry that you're uncomfortable, he spends way too much mental energy thinking about the most appropriate hug length.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

On the second date. The first date is so casual and very mutual-crush-besties, but after he just thinks about you and how much he's fallen for you. On the second date, he's basically instantly confessing his love and asking if you want to be in an official relationship.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Average amount of jealousy. No issue with you having friends or anything. Only gets really jealous when someone is getting flirty with you or you start paying an extreme amount of attention to someone.

Gets really moody when jealous, may not even realize he is jealous. A lot of "no, it's fine" and shit. Irritable, usually isolates or vents to someone else.

He apologizes when someone informs him that he's being a jealous jerk, though. Again, he usually doesn't clock the feeling so he has no idea he's doing it.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Quick, sweet, a bit shy. A peck on the cheek or a quick brush of the lips. He'd probably get in trouble for it at school with teachers and at home with Darry, or most of the rest of the gang will tease you two RELENTLESSY anytime they catch you two, so kisses are super sneaky and the types that you can pull away from real quick.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Neither loves nor dislikes children, doesn't really know what to do with kids. He's the youngest person he's around most of the time, he would be so confused if you just plopped a kid down in front of him. Would probably be really good with a quiet, "good" kid, he'd love to read to them or babysit one of those kids that just, like, sit in the corner and draw or quietly play with toys for hours. The second a kid starts being super hyper or rambunctious, though, he'd be so overwhelmed and need an adult *RIGHT* now.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Y'all meet up at school and spend as much time together as possible before the bell rings. Studying for first period, chatting about upcoming plans or the day before, etc.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

A hug and a kiss goodbye at your door, lol. You think you're spending the night? You think he's allowed to spend the night at your place? C'mon, now.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Pretty open when it's relevant. Like, if asked a direct question he isn't going to lie and he doesn't really have an issue talking about himself. As soon as he sees you as a safe person that won't make fun of him for it, he's deep-diving into how he feels about almost everything to get your perspective. A lot of the gang either doesn't care to listen or will make fun of him for being a little bitch, so Ponyboy will absolutely latch on to someone willing to listen to his random emotional and philosophical bullshit.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Gets moody or frustrated easily, stresses easily and may need a break from whatever is getting to him. But actually angry? Slightly below average. There are things that will absolutely push those buttons quick enough, but he isn't actually angry so much as overwhelmed a fair amount of the time.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Remembers a surprising amount of little things. Your favorite and least favorite colors? Foods? Books? Movies? Etc? Absolutely remembers all of them. Might forget bigger things, like your birthday or something. And it isn't like he even forgets!! He just has that weird "is time real?" anxiety that some people have. Like "I know their birthday is on [date], and it's [date] today, but is it *REALLY* [date]??? What if I say happy birthday and they're confused and tell me it isn't their birthday? Maybe I should wait for someone else to tell them happy birthday first, just to be safe..."

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Your second date. Eating at the diner where he told you he loved you and asked you to be his officially, watching the sunset, catching a late movie, and then walking you home and giving you a hug and kiss goodbye at the door.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Around average on the protective scale? Wants to know you're safe, obviously. If anyone is bothering you, he's by your side. If anyone is actively bullying you, Ponyboy will try to get the whole gang to defend you (and if anything serious is going on, they probably will). Will listen to you vent and rant, and (maybe reluctantly) accepts that you can take care of yourself. Will follow your lead mostly, stays close and will happily defend you if you look to him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Tries so hard. Writes love letters, makes sure there's plenty to do on dates (it's never *just* a movie, it's dinner and a movie and talking for hours after), buys you a little gift or treat whenever he has spending money, helps you with school work whenever you need it, walks you home even if it's way out of the way for him.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Extremely addictive personality. He is canonly the heaviest smoker of the group despite also being the youngest, also considers himself addicted to pepsi and--while that could absolutely just be an exaggeration in saying it's his favorite drink--I wouldn't be surprised if he was fairly addicted to the caffeine. He also misuses prescriptions. Having problems with addiction early in life can lead to more issues with addiction later down the line, whether through stronger substance dependency/abuse or just addictive behaviors such as gambling or similar.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

About as much as a young teen is expected to be. Has a good plenty look-based insecurities, definitely wants to look tuff or whatever. Doesn't make it his whole thing. Also probably grows out of it fairly completely unlike some people.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

110% yes. This is true love to him. Yall are soul mates.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Don't know if this is obvious in how I write him, but I headcanon him as autistic (because I'm autistic and I say so, idk). Not diagnosed, because it's the 60s.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Not seeing (or at least trying to see) his point of view. He can be rather emotionally driven sometimes, and it does help when he has someone to give an objective or logical perspective when he's like that, but if you don't start with "yeah, I understand where your coming from, but also consider..." then he'll feel like you're just telling him he's wrong and his feelings don't matter. A lack of sympathy/empathy (idk which, I lack both, oops) is a good way to make him uncomfortable with you as a whole.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Sleeps holding onto something for dear life. A pillow, balling up the blankets next to him, partner, whatever.

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #ponyboy curtis #ponyboy x reader #sfw alphabet

[donnerpartyofone]

I can't believe I'm about to do this. I mean don't get too excited, it's not interesting, I'm just forced to talk about it because that's the only power I have in this stupid situation.

A couple weeks ago I was prescribed this new asthma medication, even though my problem is almost definitely from muscular-skeletal pressure but nobody can figure that out yet, so for now I just have this inhaler so I'm not constantly suffocating. The first time I took it at the recommended dosage I had a bad panic attack that took me out for an entire day. I reduced the dosage so I didn't feel dangerously insane anymore, but it still causes my fucking rosacea to go completely out of control, which is not really something I can just ignore; it drives me crazy that insurance companies just treat rosacea like it's some fancy cosmetic issue, as if it doesn't affect your entire life when your skin is visibly deteriorating at an escalating rate, but that's another story... So anyway I have a giant bag of medications that either didn't work at all or actively harmed me (my typical experience with everything) that I haven't disposed of yet, so I dug around in there for a tube of Rhofade that like I don't even know how I got it because it's the premiere celebrity-endorsed thing and it's psychotically expensive, but anyway I decided to give it another shot because I'm desperate. First couple days it worked great. I thought all my problems were solved, except that I'd have to find a way to keep paying for it. Then it seemed not so great for a couple days. Then things started to get pretty rocky. I wondered if it had to do with not being careful enough in the sun or what, but I started to worry about the medication, so I did something that will sound insane, but oh well.

Months ago I complained to my GP that I was having a hard time finding a "real dermatologist" in the city, as opposed to a salesperson for predatory beauty treatments. I've been treated pretty badly by a variety of dermos over 15 years, I often had the feeling that I was neglected because I had a medical concern as opposed to like an expensive anti-aging concern or something. Sometimes a dermo advertises themselves as a medical professional, but when you get there you realize they're a glorified beautician and you're fucked. I went to a well-reviewed practice that's now called The Dermatology Specialists several times, and every time there was a mad rush to get rid of me. The actual head of the clinic saw me a couple times, and both times he came running at me with a needle without telling me what he was doing, to try to lance a mole that I wasn't there to discuss. One of these was right over my eye and you can imagine how scary this was. I eventually realized I didn't have to take that shit and swore him off. Years later when I decided to look for a dermo in my new neighborhood, I made an appointment at a "new" place that I realized too late was the same guy; he had rebranded and expanded his thing into a giant chain that's all over the city, like half or more of the dermos in my searches are attached to his practice and it's not always obvious until the appointment is made. Fuck. I thought, maybe things will be different at this location, I'm seeing a new person and I'm the only one in the waiting room, seems pretty chill. I actually had to get a mole removed that time. I sat down with the new doctor who frantically explained what she was going to do to me before saying "OK BYE!!!" and racing out the door, which she had almost closed all the way behind her before she remembered that she still had to actually do the procedure. I couldn't believe I'd fallen for this clinic's bullshit yet again!

So that's when I talked to my GP and she wrote me a referral for what I took to be a real doctor. His office was clean, simple, and unpretentious. When I got there, an exiting patient was thanking the doctor profusely for something, like from the depths of his soul. We sat down together and he calmly denounced all the lasers and other expensive snake oil that had been upsold to me over the years. He told me to scale back to just a basic Aveeno face wash and moisturizer, and I was so relieved that he wasn't some greedy hipster asshole...however. He also told me that the active ingredient in Afrin, an OTC decongestant nasal spray, has the same effects as the top of the line rosacea medication Rhofade, and many of his patients have success just applying it to their skin. I was so impressed that he wasn't trying to sell me anything, and that he was empowering me to just take care of my own shit at home, that I believed him.

So flashing forward to the past week: I use this new inhaler that I need if I want to breathe, my face blows up like a bomb, I try Rhofade and it seems to make things worse...and then I buy some Afrin and put it on. It pretty much burned my face off my skull. My skin was purple and my face completely changed shape for more than 24 hours. I thought, at least I have this cold pack that's made for faces, for swelling from dental surgery and shit (it was recommended to me by my TMJ specialist who is also fucking with me right now but that's another story). I applied it, and it made everything a thousand times worse than it had ever been. I had to cancel all my plans. I took Tylenol, antihistamines, drank tons of water, whatever I thought would help. A colloidal oatmeal-based moisturizer kind of did something for me, but not remotely enough. It's a couple days later, now, and I'm still not completely over it, and I'm having random intense and painful flareups. I've never had exactly this problem before. And by the way "just using a moisturizer" has not helped anything at all this entire time, even though it's the advice I always get (sometimes VERY rudely) no matter what I say. Dry skin is not my problem, someone could tell just from touching it. Just being mindful of the sun and trigger foods and shit is not the answer. I know there's something else going on and like nobody cares to find out.

So anyway I'm having a followup appointment with my GP to explain all this...and in the meantime I'm going back to the fucking snake oil clinic. I just absolutely need something for right now, I don't know if it will be an antibiotic or what. I've spent years looking for a real medical dermatologist and I know I'm not going to just find one overnight, so I'm subjecting myself to more humiliation at the most convenient place, and I'll deserve whatever I get I guess. At least my appointment is with a guy I haven't seen before. Cross your fingers for me that he doesn't give me something else that just melts my face off of my face.

[lollytea]

Miss Lolly I was watching old episodes of the owl house AND WOW, THE GOLDEN GUARD like... Umh... This guy knows??? He knows that he will lock pinkies with miss Willow Park??? He knows that she will say that he means a lot??? TO HER?????? HE TOTALLY DOESN'T KNOW, like look at him in Separate Tires, LOOK AT HIM IN HUNTING PALISMAN, HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHO SHE IS AND YET IMAGINE TELL HIM THAT, HE WOULDN'T KNOW WHY THAT DOES MATTER BUT HE WILL, omg look at him in ASIAS or Labirynth Runners, like, that guy knows what is coming to his life??? Can I tell him??? HE NEEDS TO KNOW THAT HIS PINKY WILL TOUCH HERS, LIKE, ROMANTICLY

Makes me INSANE!!! CRAZY!!! BONKERS!!!

Watching him prance around all cocky and full of himself in Seperate Tides. Bro stop, you are embarrassing yourself!!! In a few months you will see a girl in a hallway and forget how to speak. You're gonna be so lame about it. Please stop TRYING so hard to appear as this emotionally impenetrable force. You get shy when this girl smiles at you. Just STOP!!!!!

Hunting Palismen??? "Or else what? You gonna blast me to bits?? Nah you're too nice for that. Fly away? Nuh uh, you know you can't do that either." He's so SMUG. So MENACING. Dude shut UP!!! Do you know that a few texts from a very pretty girl is gonna have you giggling and kicking your feet??? Do you know??? Do you even fucking know???? He doesn't know!!! Oh my god he doesn't know!!!!!

It's like you're watching a collision in agonizingly slow motion. She's gonna come along soon and knock him on his ass and he's never gonna be the same. And he's completely unaware of it. He doesn't know her name. Or her face. He doesn't even know she exists. It's insane!!!

The first half of ASIAS is so fucking mind blowing to me upon rewatch. Because Hunter is just. Talking to Willow for the first time. And he does not understand. That he's talking to Willow. She's just some random school girl. He doesn't know her. He doesn't really care about her. He thinks she's unnerving and a little weird but he has no strong opinions about her one way or another. How unnatural is that?? A Hunter who is completely neutral to Willow Park. I barely know this man.

When he completely shuts down her offer to join the Flyer Derby team because he doesn't CARE. He doesn't care about Flyer Derby....he doesn't know that playing Flyer Derby with his friends is gonna be one of the things he wants most in his entire life. He's completely disregarded Willow, too preoccupied with his mission to really consider her. She doesn't MATTER to him. Doesn't matter to him at all. He doesn't KNOW. He doesn't know that she's gonna link her little finger to his and tell him he means a lot to her. He doesn't know that hearing those words from HER is enough to reduce him to tears. He doesn't GET IT!! DOESNT UNDERSTAND!!! She's nobody to him now but soon she'll be his whole world. He doesn't KNOW!!! He doesn't know that he's gonna be so overwhelmed with love his voice will crack. He doesn't know that he'll want to hold her hand so badly but won't know how at first so he'll brush his wrist against hers. He doesn't know that not only will he receive romantic affection but he'll initiate it in return!! He doesn't know he doesn't know!!!!

#sorry im tired and a bit insane #huntlow