#there is no brain only this one picture rotating slowly

[cloversdreams]

current mood: obsessed with this image

#that time i got reincarnated as a slime #tensura #diarim #tensura diablo #rimuru tempest #im at a loss for words #get you a demon thatll coddle your slime form so affectionately #there is no brain only this one picture rotating slowly #thank u mangaka for this blessing #tensei shitara slime datta ken #tensura manga #tensura spoilers #diarimu

[ooostarwarsfandom501st]

Reunion

Hunter x Fem! Jedi reader

Summary: you reunite with your old squad after Order 66...

Warnings: Mild descriptions of injuries, a bit of angst, fluff, happy ending, kissing, Order 66 mentions, I think Hunter deserves his own warning as well ;-)

Hey! This is my first small one-shot on Tumblr. I have been writing a few stories and other things in my life, but it is not something I've done in a while, so it's probably not my best. But please, feel free to leave a comment with some ideas for other one-shots etc. Enjoy!

Kallar.

Worst kriffing planet in your life! Not so much the planet itself, but more the traumatic events that happened there.

Before the war, you were a young Jedi Knight. Your old master, Plo Koon, had supervised most of your training, and you were thriving. At least, until the war came and you were thrown into a big pile of galactic bantha shit.

At first, you served with the 104th battalion along with your old master. You and Commander Wolffe worked well together and things were always a little bit easier, when you did it together.

But after a bit you grew more and more restless, not really having a feeling of being useful - at least, as much as you used to have. You tried pushing those ridiculous thoughts away, but that proved a lot harder than you thought.

Although you loved the Wolfpack who had all become your friends, despite the Jedi Code, you knew it was probably time to move on.

That's when Clone Force 99 came into the picture.

Those boys were everything you loved and longed to be. Diving headfirst into battle with a more or less reckless plan, but somehow always pulling it off. Sometimes, it honestly surprised you how well they worked, considering there were only 4 of them.

Crosshair was the most difficult one to connect with. He didn't really understand the need for a Jedi General, when him and his brothers had always worked alone. You did understand his point of view, but you weren't going anywhere. You loved this squad. It took many rotations, but after a rather difficult mission where you saved his life in a daring manner, he slowly began warming up to you.

Then came Tech. After you got over his ridiculously huge brain, you started paying more attention to his, as his brothers call them, 'info-dumping's' and it turned out that they were actually quite interesting. And when Tech realized that you were paying attention and sometimes even asking him questions, he always found you whenever he had something new to share about the planet you visited, or when you discovered an animal.

Wrecker was the easiest one to connect with. He was a giant with a heart of gold, always making you laugh until you couldn't breathe, always showing some new work out, and always having a blast with you, whenever you blew something up together. Being friends with Wrecker came as naturally as breathing.

And then Hunter.

The dark, mysterious, smoky and broody Sergeant of Clone Force 99. The first time you ever laid eyes one you, you were afraid your heart was giving out. Everything about him was captivating. His eyes telling but a million secrets, his voice sending shivers down your spine despite saying the most regular things, his majestic hair that you one time were allowed to braid because the temperature on Tatooine was unbearable Maker even his scent drove you crazy. When you learned about his enhanced abilities, you instantly knew that he must have heard your raping heart, but by the little smirk he send your way, he seemed to like it.

Although you cared deeply for all the boys, Echo as well when he joined the squad, Hunter was different. Your relationship wasn't labeled or anything. But it definitely wasn't platonic either. Not judging by the looks you always sent each other, or the way you always looked out for each other, touching each other in some small way like fingers brushing against each other, a hand on your back or on his arm. It was something much deeper. And you both knew it was so wrong. If you were caught, it would mean the end. But that didn't exactly stop you.

Not until Kallar.

When the troopers turned on you and Master Billaba, and you were the only one who got away, albeit with a nasty blaster shot to your shoulder, you turned and ran and you didn't look back once.

You heard the news. The Clones killed all the Jedi.

Your world was turned upside down. You thought about your old Master, about your old battalion, but mostly about Clone Force 99. If you faced them, you knew, you wouldn't be able to kill them.

So instead, you ran.

And for a while you hopped from planet to planet, earning credits by doing small jobs here and there. You hid everything. Your lightsaber was safely tucked away on you small ship, and instead you carried a blaster. You changed hair color, clothes and everything else you could, to change your appearance. You were constantly checking over your shoulder, afraid that the Empire would show up. Or worse, Hunter.

And then you met Phee. Completely random on the street, when you were running a job for some wealthy family. You were weary of her first, but then she showed you Pabu and now you owe her your life.

Life on Pabu was something else. Calm, warm, and everyone was so nice. And the best part of it, no one knew how you were. It was perfect.

As you were on your usual morning stroll, you got a comm from Phee, telling you to come to the square and meet her new friends. This wasn't the first time this had happened, and you were excited to see who Phee had met this time.

"Alright Phee, I'm here. Now who are..." you trailed off, freezing in your spot, when your eyes came in contact with the ship that had been your home many rotations ago.

Your brain was working overtime to find the best possible escape route, but it was too late. Four heads turned and starred at you, their eyes wide and mouths open.

"Y/N..." Wrecker was the first to open up, a smile spreading on his lips. But when he took a step forward, you took a step back on instinct and you saw the hurt flashing in his eyes.

"We... we thought, you were dead... is it really you?" He tried again, but you still said nothing.

"Uhh Y/N do you know them?" Phee was obviously confused

"Well obviously she must be rather cautios of us, given the circumstances in which we saw her last. But I believe she looks to be in good health" Albeit a surprised tone, Tech spoke up, adjusting his goggles.

It was too much for you. You were scarred, you couldn't look any of them in the eyes, especially not Hunter. So you turned and ran. Just like you did on Kallar.

Ignoring the calls from behind you.

______________________________________________________________

They couldn't believe their eyes, when they saw you. Hunter had been heartbroken that day on Kallar, and he never thought, he'd ever feel better. Then Omega showed up, and he suddenly had a new purpose in life. But when he saw her standing there on the square... he felt his world turn upside down again.

"Who was that?" Omega asked carefully, making Hunter look at her with soft eyes.

"An old friend who we thought had passed away" Hunter explained, not wanting to go into too much detail right away.

"You should talk to her" Echo nudged him, "We'll go with Omega"

Hunter shot his brother a grateful look and rushed after his cyare.

When he found you on the beach, his heart did a flip. You looked just a beautiful as the last time he saw you. You had changed, yes, but you were still you.

"Y/N please don't run away again" he begged, and when you turned around and finally met his eyes, you had tears in them.

"I- Hunter" was all you said. All you could manage to say. You still kept a small distance.

"I thought, I had lost you. When the regs starting shooting at you and Master Billaba... we are not with the Empire, cyare. I promise" his words were firm, but his voice were shaking.

Carefully, he took a step forward, and you stayed.

"Why did it happen?" You asked, having about a million questions.

"It's a long story, why don't you come back and I'll tell you everything?" he moved closer and closer until finally, he stood right in front of you.

You felt yourself breaking again, tears streaming down your face as you let Hunter embrace you.

"Oh Hunter..." you choked.

"Cyare... I missed you" he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

"I- I missed you too" you spoke, wiping your tears away after calming down.

For the first time you looked at him with love again, smiling softly at him. So much had happened. So much was lost. But now you had finally gained something again.

You didn't waist another second as your lips crashed against Hunter's, who let out a surprised groan, but quickly kissed you back, sneaking his arms around you as your lips moved in sync.

It was everything you and dreamed of for so long. It was perfect.

If possible, you pulled each other even closer and only pulled away to catch your breath, Hunter's forehead leaning against your own.

"Let's go back, I still have a million questions for you and the boys" you whispered, a pleasant smile on your face.

"On one condition" Hunter said, making you raise a brow at him. "No more hiding this. I love you, cyare. Will all my heart"

You didn't think it was possible, but your smile grew and you pecked his lips again.

"I love you too, Hunter. Now let's go back before Wrecker eats all the dinner"

And as you both laughed and bathed in the morning sun, you took his hand and for the first time since forever...

You were truly home.

______________________________________________________________

Okay, this is not my best work, but I still quite like it. Hope you all enjoyed as well <3 Again, feel very free to comment ideas for other one-shots etc. also, which characters you want to see. It can also be other clones or other Star Wars characters<3

Also - I probably wont be writing crazy smut, maybe spicy stuff but not full on crazy haha.

Bye <3

#star wars #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb omega #the bad batch #tbb s3 spoilers #tbb season 3 #tbb tech #clone force 99 #tbb batcher #tbb echo #tbb wrecker #hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x you

[ncredwolf910-8]

Dog Day Afternoon

They lay curled on the bed together, his hand stroking the curve of her breast, tracing the inside of her arm. He told her of the dog he had brought home a large black lab he was watching him for the weekend for a friend.

She thought, "This is it !"

She had longed to have a dog mount and use her body. The pictures made her so hot that just looking was not enough any more. She had been afraid to tell him of her fantasies at first, so there was the day she let him "catch" her with the pictures on the screen. She had a hand deep in her pussy and the other one rolling her nipple. She heard him coming, and continued to touch herself, feeling his eyes on her as her body shuddered with completion. He came into the room filling both hands with her breasts, kissing the back of her neck and looked up at the screen. She held her breath, the woman on the screen, a dog deep inside her.

"So", he had said, "You found my file what do you think?"

“His file?" She looked at him with surprise!

There was no time to talk. He covered her mouth with his, his hands insistent, igniting her body like sparks. Her pussy was on fire and flooding. Bending her over the table, he took her as his bitch. His mind was in flames as he thought about her. She was more than he'd thought. A woman who would dare anything. Wanting her badly, he took her again over the table, entering her with a brute thrust, filling her all the way. He felt her pussy grab and hold him for an instant, and pulse. This was more than she thought possible, a caress she'd never known in a place she wanted to stay, milking him. She was moving, moaning, and crying out, draining him dry stroking deep, rolling his hips into hers she pushing back to meet him. Her pussy sucked and pulled at his cock, kissing and touching in a way that reached his soul. Gripping her hips with his hands, firm, powerful, controlling, pushing her. Moving faster thumping her clit into the table she was cumming and grasping his dick and cumming more. He filled her, as her sweet pussy grabbed him almost locking him inside. The thought of being knotted to her screamed in his brain forcing the orgasm up to a higher place than he'd ever experienced. Rolling her to the bed, his cock still deep inside he wanted more ! As he lay on top of her caressing her neck with his lips he felt his cock rise again, still inside her. She groaned and started rotating her hips in the only motion she could make.

"I want to see your face", she moaned. He turned her, looking deep into her eyes, started stroking again..."mmmmm". His tongue deep in her mouth. He pulled her upright into his arms, still deep inside, still moving as one, they stepped backwards towards the bathroom where her full length mirror was. Slowly, not missing the strokes they worked together, one step, one stroke. God her hips were beating his in a slow symphony of emotion and sensation. They stepped across the threshold and she saw his face in the mirror behind her shoulder and squeezed him inside her, pulsing madly his face in pain, pleasure. The look of desire, release, lust on his face knowing it was all hers and came screaming his name. He felt her contract, exploded again, spurting deep inside her. Feeling her grab and release, grab and release. They collapsed, still intertwined on the floor.

Slowly, she became aware of a sound, whining? She had forgotten about the dog. Opening the door the black dog entered, pushing it open all the way with his snout. His nose pushed between her thighs, followed by his tongue. Shocked, she didn't move. Her eyes met his, they twinkled and his grin returned. Eyes locked on his, she opened her thighs allowing the lab deeper access.

"I want to be near you," she said.

"Take my hand, baby..."

Pushing the lab away for a moment she lay beside him, opening her knees again to allow the lab’s hot tongue access. She could feel his fingers touching her as the lab’s tongue reached deep inside. As much pleasure as they had shared, she couldn't believe she was getting hot again!

Your mouth covered mine, your tongue deep in my mouth as the dog licked at your sweet juices I pushed my tongue into your throat almost trying to meet his tongue from above. My hands found and held your breasts, hard little nipples becoming hard BIG nipples under my palms. My heart is pounding it will explode with all the pleasure from everywhere! I feel it thumping against my chest or is that yours? I don’t know, can’t tell and don’t care. My eyes open and I see his pink cock, you look at me and reach for his sheath as he gets bigger.

He's hot for you, and I'm on fire! You roll, to lay on top me and I hold him back. I raise my knees and your ass is higher now. I have his cock in my hand, waiting. He wants you, I want you, and he rears up wrapping you in his front legs, clutching you. You let him go, I'm afraid, I'm so hot my body is shaking!

I raise my knees a bit more and your bottom is way high in the air. He feels your sweet ass and he wants you. I whisper in your ear as I kiss your neck...."Ready, baby?" Yes my voice shakes husky with desire. My cock pokes at your tummy, no where to go THIS time but I'm content with that. I release my grip on him and he slips forward and misses, his next stroke hits your entrance and he humps his hips. I feel you shudder and know he has you, his tongue is dripping on your back as he wiggles and adjusts himself to you. I'm rubbing my cock on the soft skin of your tummy and then I feel the jolt of him fucking you.

“OHHHHH,……BAAAABYYYYY……..”

Bump, bump, bump. You’re taking all he has, rocking on his cock over my knees. I can only feel it, not see it. I watch your face run a gamete of lust, emotion, desire, you stare into my eyes. I SEE you coming almost continuously. I can feel it. But I can SEE it in your eyes, the whites roll back all but gone and I feel you shudder yet again. The dog is filling you, his strokes are deep enough now for his knot to form.

The pressure, the feeling, so hot. I take a breath, relax and let him fill you. He's swelling, not so big as a baseball bumping against your muscle ring, his movement all but stops as he slips into you and locks. The pulsing in your pussy continues and the pressure builds, I feel him pulsing, not stroking just pulsing deep inside, I feel it against my knees and you my sweet one, feel it deep inside hot and sweet. He fills you, precum shooting up inside of you a precursor to his cumming.

I want your mouth on mine, I want my tongue in your throat feeling you cumming on his dick over my knees. My mouth is devouring you, in the mirror I can see your pussy, mmmm chew my tongue, lover kiss me hard, come for me, come for daddy; teach that mutt who's boss.

Aha ahaaa ahaa, I can’t catch my breath. I want you, but not yet, not yet. And now his pulsing gets stronger, his cock reaches up into you deeper than anything has before, its lengthening just a little. Bumping at your womb, you groan. a little.

Your pussy is pulsing, my mouth sucking at your tongue, a lot of sweet

pleasure and he’s in all the way. I’m on fire when I feel you buck back against him, wanting, demanding more, taking all of him and wanting more. Oh God I can't believe it, this is so good, and he squirts you full, so full even his knot won’t hold it all in you. It's hot, running down your pussy to your clit; which I want to suck badly; I want to be part of this but he's got you. I want you, you’re mine in a way he can’t be. But you’re his just now, in the way I want to be. You squirm on my chest catching your breath, he's got you, buns up and locked inside...

Mmmm, I am in your arms, I feel safe to let go and let you be the slut you are.

Yesssssssssssss. My slut and I want to fuck my slut brainless, both of us till we go oblivious to the world and it’s just us. I slip out from under you. The lab is actually holding you up, he grips your hips and you get your knees under you a little so he's not holding you up so much. I watch your eyes as I slip off the bed, I can see the wonder in them, that we’ve found this that it’s so simple, but so good and you wonder what I’m doing. The dog swings his leg over and now you’re butt-to sweet ass with him, I can't move.

No, you can’t move but I see your hips roll and I see his balls pulsing, I know he's unloading his hot doggie cum way inside you. I have to; I HAVE TO be a part of this. I climb onto the bed, and the lab just grins. He has what he wants, you’re squeezing his knot like a fist and he's happy. I touch your ass and feel how soaked you are. His dribbling cum and your sweet juices are flowing. I want that on my cock. He’s got you and I want you. I smear my fingers through your pussy, stroke your little slut-button and your hips jump and flush fresh juice down your legs. I want you, I want this for us. I stroke your back as you remain tied with the lab. My hand is wet from you and from him. You moan as I push my wet fingers into your ass and push back against my hand. I take more juice from your pussy and smear it around you as your lubrication you for what is gonna be...US ...locked together. I put the tip of my cock to your asshole. You moan. “no, baby, no” but it sounds like ‘yes’ and then it is yes as you feel my cock making little circles around your ass. You start to move yet again, I place myself at your backdoor, knocking, and grinning and you push back for me, you want this as much as I do! Slowly, so we don’t hurt you I push in. You push back and I reach under you for more lube. You’re almost gushing it now and then I'm in you all the way. I feel the heat, way hotter than the dog cock, you’re stuffed so full you don’t think you could hold any more. I stroke gently and I'm almost locked too, the pressure of him against me has us both tight in you; and now he feels me too, he stars to pulse again, against me! You feel us both filling you in all the secret places.

I’m stroking your back and rolling my hips as you bump against mine. Slow, but surer now, as you see that it doesn’t hurt, confident. You yes YOU can fuck two males to a standstill. I'm inside you right along with him and the thought strikes me all of a sudden and I cum. He’s shooting again, he wants more of you and I want all of you, you’re moaning and cumming and bucking back all in slow-motion, sweet hot and ooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh the explosion in my head is almost as wild as the explosion in our loins. I shoot what seems like a gallon of come way inside your ass. He’s slowing down now and you are moaning through the little aftershocks of US, little moans

I lean down, asking "you okay"? You turn and smile almost sleepily

"Okay...? I'm terrific…! “(big sigh) we grin. The lab quietly pulls loose and now I'm free too. But in a way I'll never be free again. I throw my self down next to you and shove a towel under you, nuzzle your throat making you smile. With your ass still in the air, you may be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

"Baby…?"..

"Yes, lover? "

"Do you think we might get our own lab? "

[dracofeathers]

Calling Fic Writers! Story Idea? -Angst-

If this is already something someone has made, ya'll need to link me ASAP cause its been rotting in my brain all week (if not longer) and I very highly doubt I'd ever be able to write it properly LOL. Art? Maybe...

Please excuse my scatterbrained explanation. I'll probably be adding to this as my little angst-loving brain thinks of more details.

-----

So, after x amount of time, Aziraphale returns/escapes to the bookshop from Heaven and being Supreme Archangel....just completely defeated, dazed, exhausted and just about broken/verge of breakdown. I've pictured the scene with or without his wings. Crowley and Muriel are there (or at least Crowley) and are understandably surprised/confused.

He just collapses in a sobbing heap muttering and crying "I'm sorry" "Please" "You/we can't do this" "Why" "I don't want to fall" among other unintelligible words, but doesn't seem to quite be with it enough to attempt to explain whats going on. Maybe he'd gain very slight, brief clarity upon seeing Crowley (who has also been a mess), keeps apologizing, begging for forgiveness (from him? Her? Both? Maybe) until finally passing out.

Of course Crowley steps up and tries to take care of him, and figure out whats going on. Because no matter how mad he might get at Aziraphale, how hurt he was by the end of S2, he'll always return and help his angel, because he loves him. Also I'm positive Crowley already knows Aziraphale didn't make that choice easily, that he hurt the angel as well. Bountiful soft, care-taking Crowley here because I live for it.

Eventually when Azi is a bit more stable, (as he would often rotate between quiet desolate/defeated shell shock, and near hysterical crying in fear and grief) Crowley gets bits and pieces of what happened out of him.

The "Supreme Archangel" position was merely a sort of placeholder/fake title, not an actual promotion. Because why would they want to actually give Aziraphale that kind of power to potentially use against them and their plans? He was dangerous enough

The Metatron (and other angels) lied/manipulated Aziraphale the whole time to get him to do what he/heaven wanted. And to of course separate him and Crowley. Possible eventual threats towards Crowley and others to keep Azi "in line". Book of life?

Plans of course include the second coming as it was mentioned, but I'm sure there are others mixed in. More apocalypse starting schemes etc. Never really give the full details and kept the real plans secret. Jesus only mentioned, never seen (very suspicious). Azi tries to investigate but keeps getting interrupted or thwarted. Kept a very close eye on.

Much gaslighting/mental and emotional abuse and manipulation, slowly wearing Aziraphale down in order to break and better control him. No erasing/changing of memories cause its over done to me.

God is still MIA and no one knows whats going on with Her. The Metatron says he speaks with Her, but lets face it he can't be trusted. Definitely scheming on his own with others, maybe Hell as well?

Aziraphale never falls of course, I couldn't do that to our precious angel. He'd be traumatized enough anyway.

Aziraphale tries to be a good angel so bad it hurts, wants to believe in Heaven and "The Great Plan" but is only ever hurt and betrayed for all his efforts up there.

I WILL MAKE THESE TWO WILL HAVE A PROPER TALK I SWEAR

--------

I just really love hurt/comfort, angst and them taking loving tender care of each other. They would have a happy ending of course. This is how I cope until season 3, don't judge me xD

Also, what I was listening to during this ramble:

#angst #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #the brainrot is real #ineffable husbands #why am I like this #I love them I swear #hurt/comfort #send help I cant get this out of my head #throw ideas at me #let talk angst #I dont like the metatron #eventual happy ending #listening to sad instrumental music as I write this #No Azi or Crowley hate will be tolerated #Aziracrow #wanna collab? #give me similar stories and art plz #they both need hugs #Youtube

[n0brainjustvibes]

Rät by Penelope Scott feels like it would be a good worm song but I can't decide who it fits best. The one i've thought most about is from Dragon to Richter, but there are other ones that could fit.

(Taylor to heroes/the triumvirate?)

Ohhh yes. Yes. I can't believe I've never listened to this the whole way through before (only heard clips of it in hollyleaf animations), it goes hard. I think both of your assignments work - this bit specifically reminds me of Dragon

and I'm very glad that someone else is rotating the Dragon-Richter relationship in their head (and giving me a soundtrack for my own brain rotation).

Parts of it also remind me of Kenzie, if you've read Ward.

Nothing like it happens in canon, but I can definitely picture her idolising a deeply flawed person or system, and slowly coming to realise their flaws (I guess we could've got something similar with Vic's police brutality, or even with Chris?) while grappling with intense guilt about how she is intertwined with them. The music fits her (cape) aesthetic really well. And "I'm so embarrassed"... god. That's exactly how she'd say it. (Both as in, that's nearly a voiceclaim for when she calls negative emotions embarassment in canon, and as in I think she'd describe her guilt, resentment, hatred, betrayal etc. in this hypothetical as embarassment too.)

Also, she should get to call everyone who's ever hurt her a dick and insult all of their technology.

This song also lowkey reminds me of both Reboot and Ready Player One (I was reminded of rp1 earlier hence it being fresh in my brain) but I don't have specific characters in mind.

#also is this. a breakup song with elon musk?? #i mean it seems to be about western science/tech culture in general with him as a figurehead. but it's for sure vagueing musk #dragon #teresa richter #andrew richter #taylor hebert #kenzie martin #banger tunes for my blorbos #reboot.exe #ready player one

[linesonscreens]

Let's Read Peanuts (Yes, all of it) - December 1952

There are lots of great strips I just don't have room to comment on. I strongly encourage everybody to read the full month at the official GoComics page. Today's month starts HERE.

Dec 6, 1952

Heh.

Dec 8, 1952

Honestly it's not a bad look.

Dec 9, 1952

Did that just make him cry?

Dec 11, 1952

Gah! Please never do that again!

Dec 19, 1952

No no no! If you just outright lie then of course he will brush you off without a second thought. You've got to start with something somewhat true and then slowly work in the bullshit over time. Maybe throw in a death threat and a passive aggressive snipe at his sexuality to twist the knife a little.

God, it's like you four year olds from 1952 have never even been on social media.

Dec 21, 1952

I mean, it's more than I've gotten this year.

Dec 23, 1952

One of many things that I think sets Peanuts apart from other strips is how well Schulz depicts depression (probably because he almost certainly suffered from it). You might think depression is just a sad feeling similar to grief but it's actually more of an irrational pessimism coupled with a persistent sense dread. Your brain doesn't exactly lie to you but instead tells you the most negative version of the truth possible which can lead you to some very irrational conclusions. You feel fine, it's the ~world~ that's broken (and keeps giving you these useless pennies).

Er, not that I know anything about all that.

Anyways, Schulz perfectly captures this in a way that's honest and sincere but also entertaining and kid-friendly. Which is pretty damn impressive when you think about it.

Thoughts:

End of the year character design recap time!

Again, not doing every character every year for my own sanity since the cast will be getting very large. CB and Snoopy will be constants but the rest will get rotated in/out:

Charlie Brown

October 1950

December 1950

December 1951

December 1952

Snoopy

October 1950

December 1950

December 1951

December 1952

Lucy

March 1952

December 1952

(why can't I make this one picture smaller? Am I doing something wrong?)

Linus

September 1952

December 1952

Schroeder

May 1951

December 1951

December 1952

The main thing I'm noticing is that everybody looks twice as old as they did last year while the expression work is getting a bit more complex and nuanced. Charlie Brown's head is literally half the size it was in 1950, Schroeder has aged up into an actual character and has shed a lot of his UPA stylization, Snoopy's face is becoming a bit more blocky and angular, and Lucy's eyes no longer make her look like some kind of cursed doll. Big improvements all around I think.

Linus... got a shirt. Look it's only been 3 months what do you want from me?

There's also a lot more detail in the backgrounds now which is creating a wonderful sense of these characters existing in an actual environment. Schulz is also surprisingly good at drawing plants and nature which adds a nice organic softness to his world. It's all actually making me kind of annoyed at the animated adaptations because they always go for something loose and minimalistic for their backgrounds and I think they would have really benefited form the contrast something more solid and detailed would have provided.

Finally his paneling and compositions are god tier. I mean, god damn.

Anyways that's it for 1952, I hope you all enjoyed it. Next up: 1953!

#peanuts #charlie brown #comics #charles schulz #comic strips #peanuts comics #lets read #patty #snoopy #shermy #schroeder #violet #lucy #linus #depression #1952 #1950s

[pachu09]

MadaTobi

Childhood Crush

Hashirama chuckles as he stares at a painting he's holding.

Madara and Izuna curiously stares at their Hokage, who carefully laid down the painting on his desk.

Madara, in an attempt to find out what made his bestfriend amused, ask. " What's so funny, Hashirama?. "

Hashirama beams and was about to explain himself but his office door opening and Tobirama stepping inside made him smirk gleefully. Which made the Uchiha Brothers straighten in their seat.

Tobirama, upon seeing his Brother’s smug look; freezes and he eyed the man warily.

Hashirama beams even brighter, it nearly blind the other three Men. " Tobi!. I'm so glad you're here!. I found one of the oldest picture you've been frantically trying to find ( because you thought you lost it ) since we moved into Konoha!. "

Tobirama’s brows furrowed. " Is it the painting of Okaasan? "

Hashirama grins teasingly. " No. "

Izuna, who felt impatient and wanting to know what the painting is, blurts out. " Oh, for Sage sake. What is it, tree brain?! "

Hashirama smiles more widely. " I found the portrait of Tobirama’s first crush! His name is Takeshi and I remember little Tobi he'll – "

Tobirama who realizes what his Brother is up to, pales dramatically and dive for Hashirama to cover his mouth.

Hashirama laughs delightedly as he tried to avoid his Brother’s frantic hands. " Takeshi is a step son of one of my distant Uncle and little Tobi here, back then tried to convince Takeshi that he'll be Takeshi's perfect trophy Wife so he'll need to wait for him to grow up; so that they can get married!. "

Tobirama who blushes furiously glared at Hashirama ( his Brother only laughed at his face ) and stiffly collected the painting in his arms. He avoided the stunned Uchiha Brothers eyes as he exited Hashirama’s office.

Izuna stared amusedly at the closed office door. " That's honestly a cute story, Hashirama. Whatever happened to Takeshi–san though?. "

Hashirama scratches his chin in thought. " Oh. He got married to a nice Civilian girl and they had a bunch of kids. "

Madara who was listening for the most part scowls and gripes at his bestfriend. " I sure hope you won't invite Takeshi in Konoha then? "

Hashirama and Izuna stares flabbergasted at Madara's reaction. " Why? " They asks at the same time.

Madara glaring furiously at the wall, answered. " Well, I sure hope Tobirama won't be seduced by his first crush again because I've been asking for Tobirama to go out with me and fucking hell Hashirama!. I want my soon to be Perfect Trophy Wife too! "

Hashirama and Izuna both deadpanned at Madara's declaration.

Before Madara could rant passionately about his failures in asking out Tobirama. The office door opens again. The three Men looked over to see who would dare to interrupt them.

The door revealed Tobirama who pokes his head from behind the door. He's still blushing furiously but he turn to Madara and shyly said. " Um, we can have a date tonight, Uchiha–sama. You can pick me up at 6 P.M...and um, have a nice day, Madara–sama. "

And with that shocking offer; the office door closes again.

Hashirama slowly rotates his head and stares down at his suddenly dazed bestfriend. " Oh No, you don't!. I won’t let you go on a date with my dear Otouto! "

Izuna scowls ( offended in behalf of his brother ) and shouts back. " You will imbecile! If you don't want Tobi gutting you!! "

Madara, not hearing the two bickering Men's words, walked in a daze to the door and slipped out of the Hokage's room without the other Men non the wiser.

Approaching the Secretary's desk; Madara with a bright blush on his face ask Hashirama’s secretary ( a Yamanaka from her looks ). " Um, where did Tobirama–san went, Yuzuki–san?. "

The Yamanaka stared unimpressed at the Uchiha Clan Head.

" I am not your match maker, Uchiha–sama " but then her serious look was quickly replaced with a sly one. " He went back to his own Home. Its supposed to be his day off you know. "

Madara coughs in embarrassment and with a wave of thanks, disappeared from the hallway using a Shūnshin.

A Nara pops out from the shadow behind the Yamanaka and he lazily asked.

" I win. Yuzuki. Pay up you sly wench. "

Yuzuki scowled and tosses two gold coins to the Nara. " Fuck you, Shin. I'll win next time. I'll bet you it would take a year before they even get married. "

Shin yawned and wave away his friend's premonition. " And I'll bet you ten gold coins that Madara–sama will just eloped with Tobirama–sama. "

Yuzuki gasp, scandalous. " He wouldn't dare!. The Hokage would kill him!. "

Shin stared at her with eyebrows raised. The Yamanaka stares back with trepidation clear in her light blue eyes.

" I'll pray everyday to the Sage that won't happen cause Konoha wouldn't survive Hokage–sama's wrath. "

Shin only shrug and melted back into the shadows. He left his friend clutching her hair in distress at the thought of Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara duking it out again because the Hokage refuses his Brother to date and be Wedded to his bestfriend. Its too troublesome for a Nara to even dare to step in between the Uchiha and Senju spats.

Besides, he had a feeling Madara–sama will literally kidnap the younger Senju if Hashirama–sama tried to interfere their courting....

Shin scratches his scalp. " How troublesome ". He intoned lazily. He doesn't look forward to Konoha exploding because Hashirama–sama would raze Hi no Kuni to the ground if that day ever comes.

And it will come.

Because a Nara is never wrong with their calculations.....

#madatobi #uchiha madara #senju tobirama #childhood crushes #naruto fanfiction #founders fanfic #amsen writes

[aethes-bookshelf]

a garden of my love || alucard/reader

This one has been slowly rotating in my brain like a rotisserie chicken for a few months now, so I'm glad it's finally out of my head and actually on a page :D

Pairing: Alucard (Castlevania)/Reader

Warnings: angst, hanahaki, character death, hurt/no comfort

Word count: 3.2k

ao3 link

It was late October. Most leaves had already fallen off the trees; the only surviving ones were desperately clinging to branches, all brown and crumbly with death. The sun was shining, but the breeze made your skin prickle with goosebumps despite the warm cloak you had fastened around your shoulders. You were carrying a basket full of food. It was all still warm — steam was gently puffing from beneath the cloth you covered it all with.

It was Alucard’s birthday. So, just like all the years before, you prepared all of his favorites as a gift. You couldn’t really afford lavish clothes or books, but you had plenty of food; so, you gave him your cooking instead.

You didn’t have much — never had, not really, but that rang especially true after Dracula’s war on humanity. Your house got ransacked by night creatures, leaving you to wander from city to city, collecting scraps or hunting in the forest. One day, you ended up in Gresit.

That’s how you met him.

- - - 

Judging by the stories you’d heard in your youth, Gresit was always ugly. But the recent war took that ugliness and transformed it into a picture of despair. Wherever you turned lay dead bodies, limbs spread-eagle, faces scrunched up in an eternal mask of fear. Even if you’d seen it many times before, it still made your stomach churn.

Ever since you’d lost your home, you kept yourself afloat by hunting — mostly hunting, at least. You wished you could say you’d never stolen in your life, but that would’ve been a lie. At least that wasn’t your primary way of getting food.

Usually, you ate only some of the meat from the animals you killed and sold the rest of the carcass, skin and whatever antlers included. But on that particular day, your hunt ended up a failure — most of your traps were empty and all you managed to get with your arrows were a few rabbits. Enough food for a day or two, but if you were to survive on their meat alone, you’d have to eat them all. All you’d be left with would be pelts. You knew from experience that rabbit pelts sold relatively cheap. The three you’d have left by the end of your meals wouldn’t be enough to buy the next one.

So, unfortunately, you had to settle for eating only one of the rabbits and selling the other two whole instead. Not the ideal solution, but maybe it’d get you enough money for a shitty bed in an even shittier inn. If there were any functioning ones left in this goddamned city.

On your way towards the market, you passed by a group of three strangers; two of them — a red-headed woman and a man in tattered clothes — were passionately arguing. Something about the group gave you pause.

You’d only just arrived in the city, but you’d already overheard your fair share of rumors about the battle that took place yesterday night. Apparently a speaker magician and someone thought to be a Belmont led the city’s forces against the night creatures. One of the strangers was clad in Speaker’s robes, the other one had a Belmont crest on his shirt. At least that part checked out. Who the third stranger was, the one sitting in shadow, you did not know. What you did notice about him, however, was that he was incredibly pretty. Distractingly so, almost.

Against your better judgment and possibly all kinds of common sense known to man, you walked towards them. After all, who’d want to get involved in Belmont business? Everyone knew how that ended for those unfortunate bastards; you weren’t exactly keen on getting killed by some overly religious fella with a sword like they had been.

Still, you walked on. Something in your gut told you this was the right thing to do. That maybe it was fate that led you to them that day, as ridiculous as that sounded.

‘What do you want?’ the Belmont barked in your general direction, side-eyeing you from his spot by the wall.

‘I’m not sure I know myself,’ you replied, shrugging.

‘Then be so kind and fuck off.’

‘Trevor!’ yelled the Speaker. If looks could kill, the man would’ve fallen dead on the spot.

‘What? We’re all thinking it.’

‘You’re just as charming as you look, then,’ you said. The dead rabbits you’d holstered to your belt were bleeding all over the side of your thigh. It got uncomfortable quickly in the cold breeze.

‘Could say the same thing about you.’ Trevor didn’t even bother to look up this time. He chose to marvel at all the empty bottles around them instead.

‘He does have a point though,’ said the Speaker. ‘Why did you approach us?’

‘Let’s just say I’m listening to my gut for once.’ You gestured to the bow hanging from your back. ‘You need an archer?’

- - -

After the dust settled and Trevor and Sypha left to chase adventure, you decided to stay with Alucard. Partly for your own sake — you didn’t exactly fancy the drifter lifestyle; plus, sleeping in a warm bed every night did sound really good — and partly for his. You’d been entertaining the idea of staying somewhere around Alucard ever since your little group got to Belmont Hold. But all it took for you to make that final choice was one look at his defeated expression; you’d never seen someone look as lost as he did, watching his father’s burning corpse.

So you stayed.

- - -

You gave him some space after Trevor and Sypha left. You weren’t strangers per say, but you weren’t friends either. You didn’t want to intrude. He deserved at least a few hours to himself.

Instead, you decided to forage in the nearby forest for some dinner. You’d run out of arrows during the battle, so you couldn’t hunt for now, as much as you’d like to. You managed to find some wild onions and herbs — wasn’t exactly dinner material, but if the castle had some dried meat in there somewhere, you could make something out of it.

You were about to turn back when you stumbled upon a whole bunch of beautiful apple trees. You figured they didn’t really belong to anyone, being in the middle of a forest and all. And, even if they did, the owner wouldn’t mind losing one or two apples. Or ten.

You filled up your bag with the fresh fruit; what you couldn’t fit there you carried in your shirt instead. You did drop a few of the apples on your way back to the castle, but you had enough to last relatively long. There was no point in turning back for just a couple of them.

By the time you came back, the sun was setting. You hoped those few hours of alone time did Alucard some good; and that he was ready to talk again. At least to talk long enough to make some food. You had no idea where what was in that huge castle. Let alone something like a pantry. Or a kitchen,

You circled the entire first floor looking for Alucard — no sign of him at all. The second floor, same thing. You gave up on yelling his name eventually; you didn’t want to ruin your throat.

‘I swear, if he’s huddled up somewhere in the basement, I will…’ you stopped mid-sentence when you saw light dancing beneath one of the closed doors. You sighed in relief. ‘Finally.’ You opened the door with your shoulder. ‘Hey, I went looking for some food and I found quite a few…’ you stopped again. But this time, it was for a different reason entirely.

His face was all swollen and his eyes were red-rimmed. Drying tears shone against his skin in the muted light of the fire. When he saw you come in, he tried to quickly wipe them away, but by the time he did, fresh ones started falling.

‘Oh,’ you managed to say. How eloquent of me, you thought. ‘Do you… do you want me to leave?’ you said, shoulders drooping slightly. You knew the death of his father would hit him hard — hell, you’d lost your own! — but you didn’t expect it to hit him this hard.

Then again, you hadn’t had to kill your father, so you didn’t have that much insight into his situation.

He swallowed with difficulty, snot blocking his throat. He moved to wipe the tears away again, but he stopped himself mid-way through. ‘I… I don’t know,’ he whispered, voice breaking.

You nodded and put away the apples; some of them rolled all the way to the other side of the room. ‘Okay.’ You cleared your throat. ‘How about we just… sit together for a while? And then you decide if you’d like me to go or to stay, or if you’d want to talk, we can do just that, okay? Or, well, I can do just that. The leaving part, anyway.’

He chuckled; the sound was unusually wet. ‘You’re awful at this.’

You sighed, resting your hands on your hips. ‘I know. Part of my charm, I suppose,’ you said, and sat on the floor next to him, with your back to the wall.

He smiled a sad, gentle smile. ‘I suppose so too.’

- - -

Years had passed since. And, in the meantime, the birthday feast became a tradition. It was your idea — he hadn’t even thought about celebrating his birthday since his parents’ deaths; something told you that had it not been for you, he’d probably never celebrate it again.

So, every year, without fail, you presented him with a tablefull of delicious treats. In the second year of you living together, Trevor and Sypha visited and stayed long enough to take part in this little celebration. In the third year, the two of you stumbled upon two lost hunters creeping in the forest. What happened after became a taboo, an unspeakable secret worn on Alucard’s skin. In year three, you realized that your devotion to him might be a lot more than you’d like it to be.

In year four, he met Greta.

She was wonderful in every sense of the word. Strong, brave, smart, funny. She made a great friend to both him and you, and a great leader to her people. One of your sweetest memories was sitting with her in the kitchen late at night, a pint of beer in your hands and laughter on your lips. The other one was helping her and the villagers built their new homes around the castle.

You’d be stupid not to notice the way he looked at her.

Ever since you’d realized what your feelings for him were, you decided to push them all down. After everything he’d been through your… attraction would only bring him pain. And that was the last thing you wanted for him. Besides, being someone close enough to him to be called his friend was an honor, you told yourself. Lover or not, he was the most important person in your life and you’d never risk ruining all of that over a stupid crush. It would pass, like they all always had.

So, you let time run its course. You watched Alucard and Greta get close and, despite the dull pang in your chest, you were genuinely happy for them.

After all, they were perfect for each other.

In year five, they finally got engaged. That’s when it all went to hell.

The whole village celebrated the news. All the hunters went out to the forest and all brought something back — yourself included. There was a huge bonfire and enough meat to feed everyone and then some. There was dancing, singing, music. Alcohol poured out of every corner. Everyone was giddy with laughter. Especially the freshly engaged couple — both of them with crowns of freshly picked flowers on their heads. You helped the children make them as gifts.

Everything was perfect. So, so perfect. You got drunk enough to get nauseous. You managed to stumble your way to a nearby bush to puke. You were too out of it to notice the petals swimming in the putrid liquid.

- - -

By the next day, the cough started. You chalked it up to a bad cold and moved on. Alucard was a bit worried when he noticed how pale you were, but you quickly dismissed him, telling him to go back to Greta. You were fine, a little cough wasn’t going to kill you.

Was it now?

A few weeks passed by, but the cough wasn’t getting any better. Quite the opposite, actually. Eventually it got to the point where you had to take a breather after walking up to your castle room. Luckily enough, no one noticed. You were sure it would pass if you just gave it enough time.

Then, the pain came. Sometimes it felt like something stabbing itself into the inside of your chest, sometimes it felt more like a pressure, rising until you could barely catch a breath.

That’s when Alucard decided that enough was enough. He forcibly got you to bed and ordered you to stay put until he figured out what was wrong with you.

Like hell you were gonna do that. Not after the petals you coughed up into your hand.

You ended up sneaking into the great, expansive library of the castle. After all, if you were to find an answer anywhere, it would be there. Or in the Belmont Hold, but that was plan B because of all the walking.

Night after night, you poured over books in hopes of finding an answer. The sleepless nights were starting to get to you. You tried to sleep as much as you could during the day, but your illness — whatever it was — wasn’t exactly helping with your tiredness.

‘What the hell do you do at night, exactly?’ asked Alucard, after changing the cold compress on your forehead.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Don’t play dumb with me. You’re tired as all hell. And you shouldn’t be, if you really were sleeping both at night and during the day.’

‘I’m sick…!’ you protested weakly; judging by his expression, that excuse didn’t work.

‘Sure.’ He cocked a brow. ‘If you don’t want to tell me now, don’t. But don’t expect me to just let you do whatever when you’re this ill. You’re not just my friend, you’re my patient as well.’ He took the basin of cold water from the dresser and rested it on his hip. ‘I won’t let you run yourself into the ground because of whatever it is you do at night.’

You huffed a breath. When he realized you weren’t going to answer him, he sighed through his nose.

‘I mean it. Take care of yourself, please. We’re all worried about you.’

‘I know,’ you said, voice hoarse. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Nothing to be sorry for. Just, please, actually sleep at night.’

- - -

The night after that, you finally found your answer. Sitting on the ground, skimming a very old, very tattered book. The writing was so worn it was barely readable in the candlelight.

What you were suffering from was a kind of curse. At least according to the book. It befell those who were unhappily in love. You frowned at that. Love was a bit of a strong word, wasn’t it? Sure, you were fond of Alucard, but love? A bit of a stretch. Right?

‘There you are,’ said Alucard. His sudden appearance made you jump; the books around you fell onto the ground with a thud.

‘Don’t scare me like that!’ You hadn’t even heard him approach.

‘Oh, please.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I’m losing sleep at night because you keep getting worse no matter what I do, and you’re sneaking into the library?’

You swallowed the petals threatening to spill out of your throat. ‘I’m looking for answers.’

‘Answers to what, exactly?’

‘To what’s wrong with me.’ You sighed and closed the book, hoping to whatever god was up there that he hadn't seen the page you were on. ‘No medicine is working, so I thought I’d do some… research myself.’

‘And did you find anything?’

You bit the inside of your cheek, weighing your options. Eventually, you settled on an answer. ‘No, not really.’

‘Then please, go back to bed and leave the research to me, okay?’ he said, kneeling on the floor next to you. ‘No need to push yourself like that.’

‘You’re right,’ you replied with a sigh, putting the book away.

One line burned itself into your mind; no cure.

- - -

And now, nearly half a year later, you were slowly trekking from the castle to Alucard and Greta’s new ‘office’; at least that’s what they called it. Initially, it was supposed to be the village’s control center, but, with time, it turned into their second house. They were spending more time there than in their castle chambers these days.

You expected Alucard to yell at you for doing all that cooking. You could hear him already. ‘You shouldn’t have done that’ and ‘Think of your health!’, and ‘You’re already weak as it is, what if something happened to you?’. To be perfectly honest, you found the way he worried about you so much quite endearing. It made you glad that, despite him being happily married, you still held an important spot in his heart.

You couldn’t say the same about some of your before-the-war friends, may the earth be light for them.

The basket was getting quite heavy though. As much as you wanted to deny it, it dug into your skin more and more with every step. The golden honeysuckles threatening to burst out of your chest certainly didn’t make anything easier.

Apparently they meant ‘devoted affection’ in the language of flowers. Well, at least that much was true when it came to your feelings for Alucard. Although you weren’t entirely sure if the kind of flowers really meant anything in the case of your curse. Maybe adding meaning to it all simply made your illness a bit easier to stomach for you. Maybe not.

The spot where the basket handle dug into your arm was starting to really hurt. Before this curse, your arms were something you were proud of — strong and reliable, the arms of a true archer. Now that all of your glory had been eaten away by the curse, all that remained of your previous profession were the calluses on your hands; eternal proof of what you used to be.

You started choking on your breath. Your legs dragged across the dirt road, leaving deep trenches in the fresh mud. Still, you pressed on. You were that much closer to Alucard and Greta’s new house. You weren’t going to give up now. Not when this could be the last birthday feast you’d ever throw for him.

Sweat dripped down your face. Some of it got into your eyes; the stinging blinded you for a moment. As you moved to wipe the sweat away, you lost footing on the slippery mud. You fell to the ground with a heavy thud, the side of your head colliding with a rock.

Blood pooled around you, drenching the warm food that spilled out of the basket you were cradling in your arms. And beside it all was a single, dirtied petal of honeysuckle.

The wind blew. The petal flew with it.

#my writing #alucard x reader #alucard x you #alucard x y/n #alucard x greta #castlevania netflix #angst #character death #hanahaki #unrequited love #hurt/no comfort #alucard angst #post season 4 #trevor x sypha #trevor belmont #sypha belnades #greta castlevania

[guacamoleroll]

𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝖒𝖊 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖗 𝖕𝖙. 𝖔𝖓𝖊 「𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔤𝔬𝔨𝔲 𝔨𝔶𝔬𝔧𝔲𝔯𝔬」 ༉‧₊˚

content. f!reader. hurt/comfort, protectiveness, childhood friends to lovers, graphic descriptions of gore, major character injury, stalking, multi-part series. not proofread. 1.3k+ words.

author's note. i do not speak japanese, nor am i anywhere close to fluent in the mannerisms, culture, or any sort of slang. some of the words/phrases used may be used incorrectly. if so - please feel free to correct anything in the comments, i’ll be sure to fix it.

if you would like to be tagged for the series, click the link.

synopsis. it only takes a moment for your world to be flipped completely upside-down. an entire life of bliss has been rotated into one impactful moment of despair, and all you want is for someone to say that everything is going to be already - that it is going to be okay.

The humid summer air coasted through dew-doused leaves and petals, flowing through the tresses of your hair as you skipped merrily through the fields on the outskirts of town. The sun shined onto your skin, making it reflect back with an iridescent glow - radiating off of your upturned lips and bright eyes.

You stuck to your task with diligence, gathering pink sasanqua and lavender wisteria flowers from the edges of trees and pastures, creating a lovely bouquet within the tips of your fingers. The fresh fragrance it emitted was sweet but subtle. The perfect gift.

Your mother had been placed under bed rest due to her contracting the common cold, likely from either you or your father. Your mother was quite the frail woman for her young age, so it took longer for her to recover from normal ailments than most. You hoped these flowers would brighten the monotony of the walls of your home for her, making a bright contrast.

You brushed off the pollen from your hands, placing the flowers inside of a patterned vase that you had brought with you secretly. You filled it with water from the stream, taking some for yourself and splashing it in light drops to cool off your flushed skin.

I'm due a good break, aren't I?

It was a cheeky thought, but you went through with it nonetheless. You laid down against the bark of a wisteria tree, which always seemed to be softer than most trees. Maybe it was due to the protective nature of the plants, but whatever it was, it provided a great resting place on a hot summer day.

Your eyes started to flutter shut, and before you knew it - you were out like a light.

You cracked your eyes open as beams of light softly caressed your face, a small smile growing on your face as cooler air made way against the burning air of the previous hours. You sluggishly rubbed the sleep from the corners of your eyes, the bark now becoming prickly against your back as your senses slowly grew more alert.

The moon was against the horizon, illuminating the fields in a heavenly glow of blues and violets. The surrounding area looked beautiful, an image that you never had been able to enjoy, not before being dragged into the safety of your home away from the moon’s protective gaze.

You observed the location of the moon for a moment, racking your brain for the knowledge of the stars and the celestial objects of the sky that your mother had taught you about so long ago. The peaceful taste of chamomile, the last burning clouds of incense, the window encapsulating the moon in a perfect picture.

The moon is sitting on the western horizon, but it was lying against the east.

You had slept through the entire night.

You sprung from your position with shaking legs, mind racking on a plan to sneak into your estate without being noticed. You wanted to make haste, your mind scrambling over the thoughts of what punishment you would receive from your parents once you made it home.

You knew very well what happened to those unfortunate enough to stay out past dusk, the warning being embedded into the brain from a young age. Your father was a demon slayer, a kinoe, often telling you tales of the monsters that he went up against in the darkness of nighttime.

You had been fortunate enough to sleep by a wisteria tree during your break, protected from the demons by the chemical of the elusive plant. You shivered at the thought of a demon creeping upon your vulnerable form while you slept, taking the opportunity to devour you while you were unknowing.

You grabbed the bouquet from beside you, sprinting with quiet steps in an attempt to not alert any passing neighbors about your entrance into the town. You were expecting to run into some kind of search party or at the very least a pair of worried parents roaming through the neighborhood in order to expose your hidden form.

The passageways and alleys of town were unnervingly quiet, with whimpers of stray animals and the rustle of abandoned items aiding your paranoia. You wanted to listen to the whispers that the ambiance of your surroundings, warnings that pierced your heart with thuds that threatened to draw you back towards the wisteria tree. It was safe by the tree, but you needed to make it home.

That was where you would truly be safe.

You prayed that your parents had already gone to sleep without you, though that was unlikely. They always made sure to know where you were, even if you were just sleeping at your friend’s estate on the other side of town. They would always make sure.

You reached the entrance to the estate, empty of all of the friends that your mother often had over from the bustling life of the city. It was completely quiet, only the noise of crickets and frogs from the flower beds around your mother’s garden. The light shined on the flowers that had collected a sheen of water overnight, ready to be evaporated in the morning.

It was beautiful. It was perfect .

You admired the garden for another few moments, putting off your inevitable fate of punishment, before walking onto the veranda towards the sliding doors. Your hand moved to open it, but you paused.

Something wasn’t right.

You glanced at your hand, it trembling with an emotion that you could not define. It twitched with the urge to push away, to move your entire body away from the door. It was such a simple door - it couldn’t do anything to hurt you.

What a silly thought that would be.

You scoffed at your own childishness, grabbing onto the door with a firm grip and sliding it open, expecting to meet the disappointed and worried faces of your parents as they frantically checked your body to make sure you hadn’t been hurt.

You wished that was what happened.

The first thing that hit you was the stench. God. It was awful. The metallic twang of the air was strong, even for a nose that had gotten used to the smell of grim and guck from your father’s career. He’d come home with wounds or scratches - often too stubborn to stay at the Butterfly mansion - so you’d have to help your mother patch them up.

This smell was not coming from the minuscule wounds from a battle but instead came from the bloodbath of a one-sided victory. The entire room was torn to shreds, old portraits and belongings being destroyed down to the threads. The beauty of living dimmed with the matted color of red.

Further in the corner of the room was the silhouette of a person, whose face you could barely make out as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. You wished that you went blind.

The vase slipped out from between your fingers, startling even yourself as it smashed against the floor with a loud clang. The fragile porcelain broke into large shards, scratching against your legs creating rivulets of blood. Murky water soaked into your tabi, staining the white cloth with a color that left nothing underneath besides dirt.

The bottom of your kimono almost looked worse, the soft cloth that your parents had spent months preparing for your birthday was now ruined and wrinkled. The loose petals of flowers stuck to your clothing, the slimy texture sinking into your skin.

You could care less.

Long hair that had once been beautiful, with a silky sheen that had been carefully brushed through every morning and every night - was now stained with blood. The metallic smell oozed from the outside of her limbs, being meticulously cut at the joints and placed around her. Her mournful grip was tightened on the ring of flowers that were placed around her thumb, crushing the stems like a vice.

Your poor mother.

Those beautiful, large eyes that had often looked upon your figure with nurturing care and love. Those arms that took you in their grasp with a protective, strong embrace despite any circumstance. She loved you, more than this life - and now she was gone.

You couldn’t manage any kind of cry, the wail that was growing in your throat ceasing, locking eyes with something monstrous. Cat-like irises glanced over your form, taking everything in like a predator accesses some kind of threat - but you weren’t a threat.

You were just a little kid.

The demon’s lips curled up into a menacing smirk, bloodied teeth shining in the moonlight as it widened with each passing second. He looked down at the man, whose head was being crushed in one of his hands, before pulling him up by the scalp.

The man croaked, fingers trembling as he was desperate to escape. His eyes were becoming hazy as glassy tears filled the corners from the burning pain of his limbs. His legs had been crushed underneath the demon’s own, almost flat with dark purple bruising surrounding their edges. He was about to cease struggling, knowing it was pointless - until he locked eyes with you.

A new determination filled your father, who started to punch and wildly move his arms in a frenzy to release himself from the demon’s grip. His eyes had gone wide, throat burning but continuing to yell for you to leave this place. To run far away and never return. The demon cackled, forcefully pulling your father’s chin upwards so harshly that several pops rang out in the otherwise silent room.

“You didn’t tell me you had a daughter, Kaneko-san.” His voice was slimy, gripping onto the edges of your brain with his tone and the underlying threat that his presence provided. It caused you to attempt to move back, at last, only to helplessly stumbled over the threshold of the room onto your bum.

His eyes met back with yours once more, though you tried to look anywhere but at him. They then crawled over your form, examining every scape, every bruise, every freckle, every mole, every wrinkle, every mark, every twitch in your expression - he reveled in drinking in each second like a glass of delicious wine.

“Such a lovely little girl at that-” he paused, only for an amused expression to grow darkly inside of his frightening eyes, “-those cute eyes look just like my Hitomi’s.”

It was as if a spark had been struck within your mind with a match, an array of information you could not yet decipher and sort through running through it at once. Fujimori Hitomi was the name of your maternal great, great-grandmother - who had died tragically in some sort of accident. If this demon was talking about her, did he have some kind of involvement in it?

Your father spoke up from the tense silence with a pitiful, hoarse croak. “D-Do not lay a finger on my daughter, you-!”

SNAP!

His eyes widened for a moment, before growing dull as his limp head slumped to the floor - completely separated from the rest of his body. The demon admired his own handiwork for a moment, dropping the rest of the body without a care as you could only stare at the scene.

You wanted to do something - anything that could help - but your body wouldn’t bare to muster any more than a pathetic whimper escaping from your vocal cords. You choked on your own breath, so caught up in breathing that you hadn’t noticed the demon creeping even closer.

You flinched as a hand placed itself on your cheek, caressing the soft skin with such care you would’ve thought it was one of your parents - but it was mocking.

The demon smirked as he smeared your father’s blood against your cheek, mixing it with the tears that you had yet to notice you were shedding. The scent of metallic had become even stronger, repulsive, and strange as it made you want to both vomit and roll up into a ball. He leaned down, licking some of the blood off of your cheek as you could only shake.

He chuckled. “Delicious. I wonder…”

He leaned forward, grabbing at your shoulders, piercing through the kimono to create crescents as his nails dug into your skin. His breath touched your nerves as he slid part of the kimono off of your shoulder, leaning back and trying to get away from him, but with his strength it was pointless.

“Does your blood taste as exquisite as your mother’s?”

You paused, watching as he opened his mouth to take a bite, before stopping abruptly and making a fake, reassuring expression to comfort your own. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not going to kill my bride.”

Either in a moment of extreme rage or stupidity, you thrust one of the pins from your hair into his exposed eye. He shriveled back, howling in pain as he covered his injury - but you had no time to sympathize with his pain.

You scrambled out of the estate, disturbing the vendors who were all heading towards the market to set up early. They shook at the appearance of your bloodied and disheveled form, some more concerned ones shuffling after you to watch where you were going.

You didn’t have time to stop and explain.

You needed to get help before that monster hurt anyone else.

You rushed into the familiar estate of your friend, one that you would normally find solace in, but you couldn’t dwell on the finer details. You pounded at the door with calloused fists, starting to scream and holler as your throat ran raw.

“Rengoku-sama! Please help!”

There was a large commotion from the other side of the door, along with the rush of sprinting footsteps that approached it. It slammed open with a loud roll and following a thud, the person on the other side adjusted his eyes to the bright light of dawn.

It hadn’t been the man you called for, but the best person it could be - Rengoku Kyojuro.

“(N-Name)-chan? What-!”

He paused, eyes widening as a gasp instinctively left his mouth at your panting, disheveled form. You both took a moment to just look at each other, a moment of silence in the rush of voices and screams from the previous minutes.

God. It had only been minutes.

Your tears collected with the thick blood on your cheek, mixing together to form reddened drops that slid down your cheeks, dripping onto the floor of the veranda and against your already destroy, tattered kimono.

It was then that you collapsed.

The world started to cave in, lungs throbbing as uncontrolled sobs escaped from your throat. Your fingers shook as you tried to control yourself once more, only to completely lose yourself in the disgusting reality of everything.

Your parents were gone.

You fell into his arms, holding onto his clothing with a vice-grip. He held onto you just a tightly, not used to these emotions coming from your usually cheerful expression. Fear started to grow on his normally valiant face, entire form shaking as he attempted to wrap himself around you to shield you from the cold morning air.

“Otōsan! Come quick!”

More footsteps rushed towards the door, the form of the larger Rengoku shadowing over your figures as he took in the situation. The next few moments became a blur, leading the pair back to your estate - almost hoping that something could be saved.

Once you arrived, the demon was gone, but there was no mistaking what had happened here. Kyojuro could barely catch his breath - even after calming his lungs from running across town - once he saw the remains of the estate.

The blood was hard to look at, and you hid in the extra fabric of Shinjuro’s haori as you continued your previous sobbing. There was nothing that could be done here, with most of the items and people completely destroyed within what remained. The flame hashira could barely look at the scene, especially having known the people who had lived here so intimately.

There was something different between dead strangers, and dead friends - dead family.

He placed a steady hand on your back, shielding you from the sight of the carnage as he called for his crow. It descended immediately, then flew off with orders to summon the Kakushi, unable to do anything himself. He led both of your back to the Rengoku estate, where Ruka and Senjuro were waiting.

He sent the two boys back to bed, though they listened through the door as you told bits and pieces of the story to the Rengoku couple - or what you could manage between tears. Your adrenaline slowly started to decrease, causing you to fall against Ruka as you fainted from exhaustion and shock.

The weeks that followed were almost worse than the scene that you had witnessed. You didn’t have any extended family members that could attend the service honoring your parents, nor could take you in with them. Most of your extended family was dead, or thousands of miles off - completely unaware of the deaths that had occurred.

The Rengoku family graciously took you in, though it wasn’t a hard decision. Shinjiro knew that if anything had ever happened to him and Ruka, your parents would’ve done the same thing. There was where you would grow up, safe from any demons that dared to lurk in the shadows.

Though, the future holds interesting possibilities - doesn’t it.

© ɢᴜᴀᴄᴍᴏʟᴇʀᴏʟʟ 2022 — ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ. ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜʀᴀɢᴇᴅ

#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅ #f!reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyojuro x reader #starring: rengoku .ೃ࿐

[pazzesco]

If your eyes follow the movement of the rotating pink dot, you will only see one color, pink.

Green Catastrophe: If you stare at the black + in the center, the moving dot turns to green.

Reality Shatter: Now, concentrate on the black + in the center of the picture. After a short period of time, many if not all of the pink dots will slowly disappear, and you may only see a green dot rotating.

What does this tell us about the nature of reality? There really is no green dot, and the pink ones really don't disappear. If our brains are so easily fooled, what aspects of reality are we missing?

The Reality Dot - Cliff Pickover

Reality Carnival

#cool #Reality Dot #Cliff Pickover #RealityCarnival #optical illusion

[ros-sauce]

MadoHomu MizuEna.

Or MizuMafu-

Do you see my vision???

Mizuki who doesn't really know what they want in life other than the peace that they already have. (A part of them wants to wish that they were 'born a girl', but they can't stop clinging to the care that their sister gave them and their journey of identity makes up a big part of who they are)

Mafuyu honestly fits Homura better personality wise (but MizuEna is more popular even though these last English Niigo Events make Mizuki look whipped asf), they've been doing this so long that they don't even know who they are anymore- struggling and struggling and struggling again. They KNOW it's useless, that it's futile, but Mizuki was the only thing they had repeat after repeat.

The scene opens up like Madoka Magica did, but it's Mizuki and their sister (maybe on the phone instead of in person, so it's got that extra longing while maintaining the comfort) encouraging Mizuki to be a little flashy.

Mafuyu enters coldly just like Homura did, but they don't have the same steadfast, forward approach that Homura used. Instead, it's just Mizuki being drawn to the person that they saw in their dreams, and Mafuyu trying to keep up their walls hoping for safety.

Now, I think Kanade and Ena would be Sayaka and Kyouko which doesn't make /too/ much sense at first, but hear me out because

Kanade and Sayaka have a LOT of parallels and similarities, especially in dealing with their own selflessness. Kanade has the same route with music that got her dad into the hospital (even though it was so far from her fault that happened bruh), and she takes comfort in music, just like Sayaka.

Again, like Sayaka, she uses her wish to heal her dad, but it doesn't work. He goes back to being the same unstable song writer that he was before he hospitalized himself and Kanade has to deal with the aftermath (and the formath, you know when her father is following the same line as Souske (was that his name?) did)

Kanade realizes that her music can't save the people closest to her and she throws herself into being a magical girl.

Ena and Kyouko is the biggest stretch (also because I watched the show ages ago and don't remember them expanding much on her backstory other than implying that her wish was just to live and also that she stole food?) Ena definitely isn't as territorial as Kyouko, but she wants to keep living so, of course, she tries to chase Kanade out because she needs to be able to have those Grief Seeds.

Similarly, she scoffs at Kanade's obsessive selflessness, but comes to eventually wish that she had someone like Kanade (unlike Ena who jumps at the idea of being saved- I know they'll get their moment, but I'm not sure how)

Only, in this version, Mami wouldn't exist, so it would be much more of a slow burn, and also we wouldn't overlook the fact that Hitomi canonically wants to die. (I thought about replacing her with Rui, since Hitomi doesn't become a magical girl and is mostly off screen when shit starts to really go down- but I would feel bad not giving Rui more of an important role, since it was sad that Hitomi ended up SO sidelined)

Do you see my vision or am I crazy?? Do you see the vision anyways??? (I am crazy)

I can't decide if it goes down more similarly to Sekai (Mizuki and Kanade watch Mafuyu mostly from afar without seeing through their persona- only to find their true self when they're maybe battling a witch?) or more similarly to Madoka (wherein Mafuyu firmly plants themself as the antagonist in the same way that Homura does and the sins of the Magical world are slowly revealed).

But you know. I mostly just have been rotating 'ha, Mizuki, Madoka' in my head seeing all the Madoka fan art and wrote this entire thing down frantically in one sitting after seeing you reblog a Madoka picture.

OUGH. this is excellent i'm rotating it in my brain forever

#ask #now that i think about it kanade and kyoko are actually quite similar too aren't they #'yaay yay i'm going to help my dad using my Powers yaay :)' and then it goes extremely wrong. no one is happy with this #i should draw them. their outfits are similar i should draw an outfit swap. #tumblr user catcatb0y you have given me incredible ideas

[webwanderer]

Sleeping Petunia

☒ [Scaramouche x GN!Reader]

☒ [3rd person p.o.v.]

☒ [1.0 k words]

☒ [Use of "Name" as the self insert]

☒ [Scara might be a lil ooc because I haven't palyed Genshin since 2.3]

☒ [Modern AU]

☒ [SFW, but slightly suggestive]

•`*+:｡. "they made me into this" .ೃ࿐

↳ for a full immersion~

Name was sitting at their chair; like the violet haired boy, they didn’t seem to wanting to let go such comfortable and loved spot. The seat’s padded arms wrapped them, and loud noises, which were clearly audible from outside the headphones' speaker, filled their ears, comforting their person, the one who was so afraid of succumbing to silence. Another game ended, another hour passed. Their night and day were spent accordingly to this living style, the routine that didn’t allow any thought to permeate to their brain. Name occasionally let go of the mouse and lifted their hand off the keyboard in order to take a sip from the crumpled – maybe survivor of a fit of rage – bottle, of which plastic reflected the suffused red light that enveloped the room. This time was different, though. Name, once they finished swallowing that vague liquid, didn’t lay their eyes again on the monitor in front of them, but twisted slightly their head. The movement was slow and felt not natural – given the time they just spent still, in the same position; it took them a few minutes to adapt to the new posture, but after that, everything came back to normality, to the old days when life flowed ‘effortlessly’. Following their head, was their body. The chair rotated on the place, allowing the young to face in the direction of the other, who was still sleeping, not even caring to get under the blankets. Name’s eyes wandered along the pale boy silhouette. His sleep seemed messy, eyebrows frowned, jaw slightly clenched: an uneasy look on his face. It resulted crystal clear, that his nightmares were nagging him once again. His magenta lips tightened, as if he did not want to let escape the anxieties to which he was accustomed. He secretly kept that mask of silence; even if, at first glance, he could look like an egoist narcissist, he had never wanted to weight down the others with his own struggles. Name, to the sight of the boy quietly shifting in his rest, stood up from their chair. Slowly, dragging their feet, still drowsy because of the endless time spent at the desk, they got closer to the bed.

Scaramouche was laying on his back, and the place of his legs reminded a mixture of supine and fetal position. Name was devouring that view. The other’s body was right before him, it seemed like he lowered all of his guards and allowed himself to appear defenceless in front of Name. That look was rare to be seen on the purple haired boy, and Name found that extremely attractive. Only the thought of Scaramouche, feeling comfortable enough to take off his costume, aroused them. It made their chest burn, they were proud of themselves but at the same time, they felt an unconditional attraction to the other. They felt the need to embrace him, to slide their fingers all along his features; they wanted to draw delicate traces long the boy’s back, starting from the bottom of his neck and carefully going down, following his spine, until his dimples of Apollo. God, if they were attractive. Said Name to themselves while picturing the image in their head. They wanted to hold his hand, and with the other, empty one, trace his slender interlocked fingers. 

Slow shaky breaths left pale chapped lips. The boy’s mouth was slightly ajar, enough to allow feeble sighs to escape. Hours passed since the man fell asleep; the softness of his face was starting to vanish. His head felt heavy, dragged down by the weight of the thoughts that were racing through his mind. In a deep state of sleep, his body was resting bed-nailed, not hinting of wanting to abandon that troubled but peaceful – compared to his life – dream land.

A drop.

Their focus shifted from Scaramouche’s hands to his face. A single, little drop was drawing his cheek. A crystal tear, pure as the boy’s looks, reflected a past of mourning, an Odyssey with no Ithaca homeland to return to: an open wandering with no sweet end. Without letting go of the other’s hand, Name slowly lifted theirs. They leaned in, getting closer to that resting face. Their finger was about to caress the violet haired boy’s tender skin, in an attempt to clean him off the teardrop. But they froze. It was not their role to comfort Scaramouche, nor to help him. They surely knew he didn’t want to be helped, and he definitely didn’t need it either. That was the older’s will: to overcome his past, by his own. 

They stayed in that position for a while, gazing yet another time at his soft features. They could never get enough of them. Feeling the attraction of a magnet at the tip of their nose, they leaned in more. They shifted their weight onto the bed, putting a knee on the soft duvet to top better over the silhouette of the other. Decreasing the space that separated them, they were now almost front to front. Only a single exhale from Name’s lips was enough to awake Scaramouche from his slumber. Immediately, the younger gently jolted back to give room for the boy to move his head. The violette was now facing Name. Purple irises interlocked with their entranced ones. Name was sinking, losing themselves in fields of Petunia flowers. A fresh, cold fragrance, rising from amethyst locks, gripped to every inch of Name’s skin. 

Scaramouche pinned his gaze into the other’s, but no answer was to be perceived. They had long ago gone astray in gracious Elysian Fields. A spacious land. A spacious land for reverb to be heard; for distant burning worries to be lost; for lonely souls to find comforting solitude and full silence.  It was possible to grasps the melancholic tunes of mellow, familiar melodies, far away at the borders of that extra-corporeal dimension. Old notes melted in blurred memories. Fragments of a forgotten, worn out childhood. 

The feeling of burning skin touching their collarbone awakened them from that ethereal wandering. Snapping out from their trance brought them to directly face Scaramouche. In the snap of a moment, their mouths were tied together, enlaced. The kiss was delicate. Soft lips gently being burned by feverish emotions. Theirs was a calm passion; it kindled the air around them. No hurry allowed in that brief instant: they were there for each other, and they were not about to run anywhere.

[Fun fact: the symbolic meaning of petunia flowers has evolved throughout time from associations with anger and resentment to the more modern symbolism of desire, hope, and calmness. I thought it could have been a good fit for Scara]

#scaramouche #the wanderer #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gn reader #slow burn #? i guess #this is so soft #they kissed #3rd person pov #ooc scaramouche #sleeping beauty #sfw post #oc reader #lowkey #genshin #genshin scaramouche #genshin impact #modern au #Youtube

[cowboyhorsegirl]

hellooooo, 8, 17, 40, 45, 50 <3

*shows up a month late with coffee* helloooo thank you for the ask! <3 <3 <3

8. What song would make a great fic (to either write or read)?

I love this question, there are simply too many songs I want to see fic-ified!

Somebody Else by the 1975

I always imagine this as like a college AU where stevetony are together, but then steve's childhood best friend bucky moves back to the states to go to uni after having to relocate with his family to Russia when he was a kid. steve is so excited to have his best friend back and at first, tony's really happy for him too! but slowly, he starts to feel more and more like there's something else going on, but steve keeps reassuring him that there definitely isn't. i like to think that there is some emotional infidelity, but steve is honestly in denial about it himself too until one day he realizes that he's in love with bucky, he'll always love bucky, and that their history is too great to ignore, so while he still cherishes tony deeply, he breaks up with him anyway. anytime i listen to the song, i imagine a fic with a scene where tony, steve, and bucky have all found themselves at the same party together and tony is just trapped there watching steve and bucky be so incredibly happy together and just bitterly ruminating on the whole thing, with steve feeling guilty for the way things ended and wanting to be a kind ex but tony just truly doesn't have the capacity to try and accept any sort of kindness from the guy who broke his heart. I don't think this is something i'd actually write though, but it's a fun scenario to Rotate :)

April Come She Will by Simon & Garfunkel

In my head I've been writing an 1872 fic based on this song for like 2 months fjksdlfjklsdjf.

It's pretty self explanatory, Sheriff Rogers has a whirlwind summer affair with this mysterious, brilliant and clever blacksmith who tears into town like a tornado and leaves Steve just as breathless. I think a lot about what the impetus for Tony leaving so suddenly would be, and the best idea I've come up with is that Tony finds out that Steve was shot with Stark bullets out of Stark rifles during the war, and it just reminds Tony of all the destruction and pain he caused that he had been running away from. The guilt from the fact that it was his own bullets, something he designed and created, that had caused this injury to Steve is just too great to deal with, so Tony starts distancing himself from Steve. He vanishes all too suddenly on Steve's birthday, with only a simple note and a small device he invented that will let Steve intercept Mayor Fisk's outgoing and incoming telegrams and help him save the town left behind to remember him by. in a few months, steve has done just that, and it's then—when he's finally ushered in a semblance of peace in the town with the help of tony's invention—that he hears the salacious news about millionaire weapons manufacturer Tony Stark dying in obscurity by the bottle in some unknown town even further west than Timely. Steve doesn't realize who it is until he sees the picture in the paper, and he suddenly understands why Tony was so stricken when he told him about his wartime injuries. :(

Heart of Gold by Johnny Cash

Another 1872 fic (but only in my brain😔✌️) about steve and tony, old and weathered and just about as married as you could be without ever realizing I love you stargazing and confessing their feelings to each other and it's all so soft and sweet and perfect in my head <3 <3 <3 Like they're talking about Steve retiring from being Sheriff and finally officially passing the baton to Red Wolf, and Tony's like got any big retirement plans Sheriff? i hear most people travel, I suppose if you're right willing i could take you to london and new york and paris and milan. wouldn't even make ya beg for it, retirement present and all and steve's like i don't know about all that stark, 'sides, i reckon there ain't anywhere on earth that's got stars that shine half as bright as the ones in timely do and tony's like an' how'd you know, world traveler that you aren't and they keep talking and joking and it's just like always and then steve admits his feelings for tony without being even a little shy about it, like it's a sure thing and it always has been and tony gets all flustered and they hold hands (they hold hands!!!!!!!!!!!!) and then Steve's gazing up at the night sky with a soft perfect smile on this weathered, wrinkling face and sure the stars aren't quite as crystal to his aging eyes as they were when he was a youngin' but that don't mean he can't enjoy the heavens blinking back at him like the angels themselves are sending him morse code messages. and tony isn't looking at the stars at all, not even a little bit. he's just holding on to steve's hand and can't stop looking at his face, in awe and in love with the cosmos, and he sees the moonlight glint off the Sheriff's badge and he thinks that in all the places he's ever traveled, he can't remember a brighter star than the one he's found here in timely, neither <3

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

In S1 E12, Gamma World Part 1, the first scene between Black Widow and Madame Hydra in the entire show is Black Widow showing up to offer the Hulk's blood to Madame Hydra but the exchange is interrupted by Hawkeye bursting in and ruining the deal and tying up Black Widow and it's extremely a little BDSM-coded. But the minute i saw Madame Hydra & Black Widow in the same room together my brain just went *WOMEN* and since then i've always wanted an AU where Hawkeye isn't successful in stopping Black Widow from handing over Hulk's blood and instead of all the commotion that took place in the actual episode, immediately after the exchange Madame Hydra has sex with Black Widow in a power play and at the end of it Madame Hydra reveals to Black Widow that they've killed Clint and even though she and Clint are lovers, Natasha could never tell him she wasn't actually a HYDRA double-agent so he died thinking she betrayed him but she can't reveal any of that in the moment bc Madame Hydra is still watching for her reaction so instead she simply doesn't react at all to the body of her dead lover who was killed at the orders of the woman she only consented to sex with under threat that she'd find out she's an undercover SHIELD agent otherwise

40. Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person?

Yeah I reread fics all the time!! If it's a longer fic though, I usually just revisit the more emotionally cathartic or smutty bits and pieces whenever the whim strikes me

45. What’s something you’ve improved on since you started writing fic?

hmmm, i think i'm getting better at not being afraid of my own words and letting things be a little bad so that they can have a chance to be written at all.

Also i like to think i'm improving at writing dialogue, but i suppose the reader would be the better judge of that

50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about!

i feel like i'm all talked out lol 😅 But I like this question: 4. What detail in [insert fic] are you really proud of? bc i'm really proud of that tiny treatise on religion i wrote in Paradise Blue.

"Religion is the price of admission men pay to gamble for a chance at receiving the Lord's mercy"

It's not an outlook I necessarily agree with, but it's definitely an understandable perspective and it was fun & challenging & very rewarding to figure out how to convey this sentiment in so few words and in a tone that I think fits 1872.

#signed sealed delivered #anakincito #scribbles #evwrites #1872 #1872 my beloved #stevetony #thank you bestie for the ask i had SO much fun answering these :D #EMH

[rpclefairy]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐏:  

we’re over two years into the panini, we’re all stressed out and scrambling to make ends meet and come to tunglr to write, have a little fun and distraction but then you’re staring at the blue hellsite on your screen and nothing. words just aren’t coming to you no matter how hard you try to write until hits you: hewwo writers block my old friend. now what? 

i’ve been writing on and off on here for over ten years and this never stops happening to me so here’s a few things that i've found help me either be more productive or ease feelings of anxiety over my rp blogs.

i hope this prep talk helps some of you too ♡

water is your friend.

first of all, go take a shower. writer’s block often comes as a result of depression which means you’ve likely haven’t showered in days. no shame or judgement, but your body (and this includes your brain!) will feel a million times better once you’re clean. you can do it, i believe in you.

also drink water. i hear you rolling your eyes, “i drink water already”. no, drink more. like, a ton more. unless you’re going to the bathroom every 30 minutes and your pee is transparent you’re not drinking enough water. you’re overworked and sleep deprived and your brain is shrinking like a dry starfish under the boiling sun. keep a water bottle next to you in rotation at all times, you’ll slowly get into the habit. 

this applies to other basic needs like eating and sleeping too! please take care of yourself.

music helps! but sometimes it doesn’t. this one i didn’t figure out until not too long ago. i’ve always loved making playlists for my muses and aus on spotify going as far as organising every song in an order that is relevant to the timeline of my muse’s story. so it took me a long time to catch the fact i’m not productive writing wise when i’m listening to music. 

maybe i do pay too much attention to the chronology of my playlists and the story told through music. it can be very atmospheric and immersive, but also distracting. imagine trying to write while watching a movie at the same time. for some people it can feel like that and you may be one of them. 

writing in silence is an obvious option here, and honestly once you get into writing you’ll forget about the silence. but you can also try exploring alternative music options that isn’t just the regular songs you often jam to. this can include from classical music to lo-fi. the mallsoft subgenre of vaporwave is my personal favourite. even if any kind of music overwhelms you and you’d like to block outside noise there are options even outside of the realm of music, like binaural beats and coloured noise.

aeshetics: ditch them (if necessary!). they can be fun for sure and graphics specially can be another creative outlet to add to your portrayal and all that is great, but tumblr rp has a very specific aesthetic that is considered “trendy” (you know the one. ridiculously overexposed, everything looks black and grey with pops of red, you need to squint to see what’s on the picture.... that one). 

i know from talking to other people about this that i’m not the only one who doesn’t vibe with it at all but has also felt at some point the lowkey pressure to conform so as not to be seen as “sloppy”. no one wants their blog to be dismissed at first glance. but here’s the thing, you don’t need to follow the aesthetic(tm) for your blog to look put together. 

embrace minimalism if it helps minimise your anxiety over it. just pick a solid colour and use that for reply dividers and icon borders, use simple psds for your icons, use raw 100x100 icons or no icons at all. whatever feels right for you. 

i know it’s easier said than done but sometimes it is easier when you’re reminded so here’s your permission to stop stressing over graphics. everyone else feels the same as you and don’t actually care if you don’t care for the type of promos and icons that are considered trendy. 

and maybe i’m a little bias here, but simple and clean graphics + formatting looks a million times more put together than overly complicated aesthetics that are hard to read and see. and if someone feels like aesthetics are a requirement to write with them, that’s not someone you want to write with.

drafts piling up? start pick one at random and edit something in it. even if that’s just trimming the post and getting it ready to write a reply. then write anything. it doesn’t matter what it is, write your muse’s first reactions and feelings in response to your partner’s reply. whatever comes to you immediately, can be just a line of dialogue from your muse’s immediate reaction or just a vague description of their feelings. again, even if it’s just “he was angry and sad” this is going to give you the essence of your reply and a foundation. and once you have a few sentences you’ll find it much easier to keep going.

#rp help #rp resources #indie rp #dear-indies #rph #rpc #this turned out so long #so i'll stop it there #long post #psa #guides

[leggerefiore]

Sweet Emotion

cw: sort of angsty, hurt/comfort

You were mad. Fuming, in fact. Your team composition certainly was not the best, yet it was not the worst, either. Emmet was always too aggressive and competitive against trainers, especially those closest to him. Ingo never minded, of course, valuing the high skill battles him and Emmet often involved themselves in. Contrarily, you felt like he was too brutal against you. Two psychic types had been a terrible idea, but no impossible to work with. Well, until he proceeded to spam toxic, and bug-type moves. Then when you foolishly sent out a Gyarados into his Klinklang's thunderbolt. Your poor Chandelure never stood a chance against his Crustle, and you marched off without a word after he beat you; his usual statements of declaring what was before him stinging your already wounded pride.

Though, the more you thought on his words and harsh criticisms from the worst innards of your brain, rage slowly faltered and shifted itself into a sense of shame. Why did you even bother? Someone like him was nearly unreachable in skill by someone like yourself. Did he even truly love you? Perhaps you were some small, useless person the twin kept at his side to make himself look better. It grew hard to swallow and a numbing feeling shot through your limbs as you lied on the couch. A framed picture was on the table that showed both of you together before a getaway to his hometown of Anville. His arm was tightly wound your shoulders as he pulled you into his side with a luminous grin spread across the features of his face. Your heart clenched at seeing such a beautiful man beside someone one as painfully average as you.

It was turned over as you felt tears leaking from your eyes. Bitterly, they turned cold in the rotation of your ceiling fan's breeze. Everything felt wrong and impossible, they world some unfeeling place you were forced to reside in. Pressing your knees to your chest, you sat with your back against the front of the cough. Quiet sobs buried into your legs as emotions ate your system like a worm through an apple. You had not only disappointed Emmet, but yourself, too.

The door creaked open, and you shot up from your endless thoughts of self-insults. A certain Subway Boss gasped at the sight of you bawling your eyes out in your living room floor. Dropping the box of desserts, he had bought in apology for upsetting you, Emmet rushed over to embrace you in his safe, loving grip. It worsened your fragile state, and you began to cry loudly into his shoulder. Gloved hands shot to stroke your hair and rub at your back while he whispered gentle affirmations and reassurances. His scent of cologne, sweat and a hint of spider was point of focus to ground you in reality. The precious warmth his body burned into your own showed how cold you had become in the throes of emotion.

It was not Emmet that had thrown you into this state alone, a mixture of stressors from all around threw their unique spices into the stew of your poor consciousness. Your hands grasped desperately at the fabric of his work coat as you pleaded for his help mindlessly. He sat you down on the couch, his left leg under your right as he pressed your head into his chest. The sound of his heartbeat pumping precious lifeblood through his body was beyond calming as you felt the tears begin to slow. A hum vibrated through his torso, further lulling you into his trance of ease; feelings weakened by the comfort Emmet provided. Soon, you had felt closer to normal.

His lips lightly peppering kisses across your temple. "I-I'm sorry, Em..." you did not know what else to do but excuse your actions as a problem he had to deal with. The Subway Boss shook his head as he pulled away to stare adoringly into your eyes. Unexpected skin pressed against your cheek and left a soft heat in the wake of its touched. Unconsciously, you rubbed your face into the palm of his hand. "Darling, don't ever apologise for your feelings," his tone was quiet and soft, afraid to stir anymore unwanted stings of emotion within you, "I will never mind helping you. I want, too. In fact." Finally, a proper kiss was shared between the both of you. For a moment, he pulled away to retrieve the discarded box off the floor and to free his pokemon. All of whom immediately wandered up to you for apology sniffs and rubs. It was saccharinely sweet.

A lovely, creamy panna cotta completely fallen apart beyond recognition. Emmet was clearly upset by the state of the dessert but offered you some kindly. "I was rude earlier, I know. When I get into work mode, I forget to speak to you differently," he gave you the destroyed pudding dish with a healthy helping of strawberries on top. "Though, love, I am more than happy to help you with team building." A laugh left you as he tried to feed you the sweet. Eelektross watched the scene in confusion while Galvantula settled between you two in an attempt to get some attention. The evening was proving itself to be a gentle respite from the stress that plagued you both. Taking the spoon from Emmet, you returned the favour by holding the pudding back up to him. He opened him mouth immediately. A loud hum of joy left him after it hit his tastebuds.

"I was only so aggressive because Ingo told me you beat him easily! I love strong trainers. You have verrrrry great talents, so naturally I wanted to give you a fair fight," Emmet explained later on as your laid against him, drowning out his third rewatch of this specific documentary. Well, you had done that but were very unsure as to how that even happened. There was likely something ironic to beating Ingo with a Chandelure, you noted.

#emmet x reader #emmet/reader #pokemon emmet x reader #emmet.ima #does anyone else get angry to only have it follow up into extreme sadness? #also now i want panna cotta but i am too lazy to make it

[technowoah]

could you do 21 and 23 from the prompt list with george x gn! or fem!reader?

btw i adore your writing!! i love all your ideas and your imagines are so original ahhh i love them sm

So Cliché [3:41 am]

TYSM! OMG THAT MEANS A LOT TO ME🤚🏾😭

Also sorry this came out so late

I am guessing the prompts are from the fluff list, but if this isn't what you wanted I'll do it from the angst list!

21) "Are you up? Do you need me to stay up?"

23) "Pinki promise kiss"

⚠︎ swearing, fluffy stuff, i didn't proofread 😪

Your eyes adjusted to the dark bedroom you were in. The door was closed and the curtains were slightly opened letting in the slightest slither of light inside. The sun hasn't rose yet and your body felt heavy. You turned around under the warm covers of your bed and looked at the clock beside your bed that shined 3:41 am.

You groaned as you rotated around in bed until you found a comfortable way to lay down. Time seemed to be going slower when you woke up, the need to sleep flooded your mind but you just couldn't relax. Turning around again you faced your closed door that led to the hallway. The door always had to be at least cracked and not completely closed, but your roomate was making too much noise at an ungodly hour.

Living alone wasn't good for you at all, you didn't feel comfortable living alone. It was so quiet all the time and no one was around to entertain you or comfort you when things went bump in the night until your friend George suggested that you moved in with him. You always complained that you needed a roommate so he proposed the idea that you two moved in together to make you feel safe.

A few days from that conversation you packed your things and moved in with George. Slowly but surely you moved all of your things into George's place and he was always there to help. George had two bedrooms in his house and they were right next to eachother. You both woke up around the same time and went to bed at totally different times.

George and you always made breakfast together, sat around the house thinking of things to do and just end up sitting on the couch watching anything interesting he finds, doing chores and going out quickly to then inevitably end up back to the couch to do absolutely nothing. George always ended up sleeping while you two had this time together because he stayed up so late you dont know how he could sleep like a baby like that all the time. He ended up either laying on the armrest of the couch or on your shoulder. You always thought that was uncomfortable for him, but he always ended up there. The last couple times he ended up laying on your thighs which flustered you the first time, and the second, basically anytime he goes to lay on your lap you tense up.

You weren't afraid of physical touch, but this was new to you, you've grown accustomed to George and you think you a crush evolved from nothing. You two have been really close and it all started with a stupid Minecraft server. Ever since you moved in you two have grown closer than ever and your complicated feelings if you would want George as a boyfriend or not flooded your mind as we speak.

[4:01]

You still couldn't sleep and it was becoming a problem. You tossed and turned until you felt comfortable and began to count sheep, but you already got to 40 and didn't feel sleepy at all. Encasing yourself underneath your covers didn't help, it only made you hot. You were wide awake at this point. You had sat up and got out of your bed slipping on some fluffy socks and quitely opened the door and shuffled your way to the living room. You tried to stay quiet trying to keep George asleep as you turned on the TV.

Turning down the volume you sat there for a while underneath a blanket you and George had on the couch for times like this. You had a throw pillow underneath your head while you layed horizontal, across the couch. Two shows later and your eyes began to droop, it was a sense of accomplishment because you were finally sleeping so you stayed there still so you continue to lull yourself to sleep.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" George asked with tired eyes and gravelly voice. "Are you up? Do you need me to stay up?"

"Fuck you George. I was about to go to sleep. I kinda want you up with me." You complained as you pulled the blanket over your head with your eyes still closed.

"C'mon silly get in your bed. Were you here all night?" George said while leaning against a wall, clearly still tired.

"No. I couldn't sleep. Why are you here?" You asked, but your words mumbled together.

"I heard the TV." George pointed at the TV that was illuminating objects in the dark.

You hummed and he did as well. "Are you okay bub?"

You had a small smile on your face, you loved the small petnames he gave you. You had a small feeling that he didn't mean it in the romantic way you wanted it to be.

"I woke up and cant sleep now. I was almost asleep, but you came in so.." You said still drowsy from staying in the state of in-between being awake and sleep.

"Im sorry." George said with his head against the wall, eyes closed. "Mm sorry I'm tired." George wiped his face.

"Could you sleep with me?"

"What?" George asked laughing slightly.

"No not that, just sleep in the same bed." You said. Your brain was just working on his own. You wouldn't have said this if you were awake, but you were desperate and needed sleep. Also you were touch starved and your crush on George was becoming more apparent each day, but that wasnt the point now.

"Yeah I'll do that." George said while pushing himself off of the wall.

"What?" You said thinking he would reject the offer.

"You sound like me. Come on." George said making his way over to you and reaching his arms out. You sat up looking at him with half open eyes and ended up grabbing both of his hands to pull yourself up.

Once both of you were on your feet you both lazily made your way to your bedroom. You mad yourself comfortable under the covers while George sat ontop, restricting the cover's movements.

"You're ontop of the blankets, it's weird." You mumbled.

"Sorry, sorry. Um, what would you want me to do?" George asked as he got off of the bed and stood there awaiting for an answer.

Your back was facing towards him when you answered. "Come on under the covers, I dont bite." You faced towards him when you said that.

He smiled a bit and then got under the covers with you, he layed on his back facing the ceiling and his hands on his stomach. He was uncomfortable.

You turnedon your side facing George. "Are you uncomfortable? If you want you can leav-"

"No! No. Im just- Ive never done this before you know. I've never comforted anyone like this." George quickly said.

"Like cuddled anyone?"

"Like cuddle, yeah."

A silence fell upon you two until George laid on his side facing you. His face was close to yours and you tried not to freak out right in front of him. He reached his hand across your body and started to rub your back. You shuffled your body a little so that your heads weren't at the same level, you were level with his chest and you got closer leaning your forehead against his chest. You both got more comfortable and got closer in touch, he soothingly rubbed your back trying to lull you to sleep.

It was a while that you both layed like this, basking in eachothers comfort

"I wish I could sing like Wilbur. That would make this moment better." George whispered against your hair.

"You being here makes this moment already great though." You whispered as well hoping he could hear you.

"Really?"

"Really. I mean it. I love this." You pulled him close.

"I love 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ."

"I love you too."

You smiled with your eyes closed. "Promise you love me?"

"Pinki promise I love you." George lazily locked both of your little fingers together.

"Pinki promise kiss." You puckered your lips hoping he would get the hint.

You heard George chuckle and he softly pecked you lips, it was like he was testing the waters. You opened your eyes and he had a small tired smile on his face, the two of you ended up giggling like little kids and then going back into the calming state you both were in.

Thank God for you both being in that state of tiredness. You just hoped that you both remembered what happend at [4:32 am] when you both wake up.

EXTRA:

You were alone in the kitchen this morning making pancakes. George hasnt met up with you yet and you questioned why. Yes you remembered last night and you're glad that you finally had the courage to say that you loved him, but it wasn't how you pictured it happening.

You flipped your pancake as George came put from around the corner looking fresher and more awake than last night. He smiled at you and made his way over to you. He closely stood by you and reached over your head to grab a glass from above. He only stepped that closely to you to grab a glass.

You begun to think that he forgot about last night's kiss. He had filled his glass with ice and then with water he stood over by the refrigerator for a while until he walked over to you.

You had just finished the second pancake of the day and faced George who was stood beside you waiting for your attention. He smiled at you and slowly leaned down and gave you a kiss on your lips. It was slow and longing, like he wanted to do this for quite a while. One of his hands found the side of your face and the other one pulled you closer by your waist. He then pulled away having a big smile on his face, you matched his smile clearly glad that he did that and remember.

"This is so cliché you know that right?" You laughed.

George rolled his eyes playfully. "Exactly, I feel like I've read this somewhere before."

"Like on Wattpad?" You jokingly asked.

"Yeah I read a bunch of DreamNotFound fanfiction on there." George said as he swayed you back and forth along with him.

"Hey~!"

"I'm just kidding! And I pinki promised didnt I?" George rose his eyebrows.

"You did! You did!" You smiled at him and he matched your smile again.

"I love you." George said.

"I love you too." You replied.

"I could get used to this!"

#george not found x reader #gnf x reader #mcyt blurb #dream x reader #mcyt fluff #mcyt angst #mcyt x reader #mcyt headcanons #dream smp x reader #georgenotfound #georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound x oc #georgenotfound x y/n #georgenotfound fluff #georgenotfound angst #mcyt george #platonic mcyt x reader #mcyt smut #mcyt imagine #dream blurb #sapnap blurb #feral boys x reader #requests open