#and i didn't proof read

[passivenovember]

Steve’s wearing a yellow sweater the first time Billy wants to fuck him. 

And it’s a specific, primal feeling that Billy can point to with ringing clarity, sifting through all the other shit Steve makes him experience. On the court, in class, around town. Bird-boned, perfect fingers leaving bruises all along the walls of Billy’s heart, and.

What he feels for Harrington in that moment--Steve, with his soft rolled hair and his thick, sinful pecks hidden under a pillowy layer of yellow confectioners fabric, it’s so sweet--it zips though him like a bolt of lightening, and Billy wants to fuck Steve.

It’s simple. Easy.

Not sleep with, not make love, but fuck. 

Wants deep in the rolling, rifting pit of himself to corner Steve in the parking lot after practice, when the gridlock is empty and the sky is gray and heavy with spring rain.

Billy doesn’t want to have to explain himself. Wants Harrington to just get it. Wants him to know and yearn and crave, the way Billy does, throat clicking around the plea to get his narrow ass pinned to the side of the beamer. 

Dick rubbing hot on the maroon-brown paint through his dorky little slacks. Wet spot blooming. That voice begging, whining high in his throat, for Billy to take it off. 

To ruck that ugly fucking sweater up under Steve’s armpits. Get his pants and tighty-whities ripped just low enough in one harsh, aggressive pull that Billy can tease at his hole with a finger or two. 

Tits on display, nipples shiny and puffy and swollen with the attention Billy gives, until Steve’s breath hitches, drunk on the pressure of his dick hitting the passenger door when Billy spins him round. 

Gets his knees knocked apart, gets Harrington’s ass cupped gently in each palm. 

And that’s where it falls apart, a little bit. 

Primal mixing with the parts of Billy that claw for the warmth of Steve. Of every part of him.

Billy wants to fuck him dry. Wants to make him pay for the fields love that spring like weeds in Billy’s throat. Knows it’ll hurt, that he wouldn’t have the guts to try or to entertain the thought beyond the half-baked image it gives him. 

Tears on Steve’s cheeks when Billy slides home. Cock naked save for the layer of Harrington fluttering around him. Adjusting. Steve licking filth into his daddy’s car because he can’t keep it in, cant’ stamp it down. 

You’re so big. I can’t take it, you’re gonna rip me open, baby, fuck me open--

Billy will ask if he wants it to stop. Will press his hips to Steve’s ass, pull his hair, say, tell me to stop. 

Will roll his hips.

Tell me, princess, c’mon--

“What the fuck is your damage, Hargrove?”

Billy jerks, breaking the surface of his daydream to the sound of a locker slamming open. Closed. 

Steve’s watching him from three feet down. Pissed and flushed and embarrassed, like he heard the whole thing. Like maybe he wants it, too. 

Billy doesn’t say anything. Blinks. Hopes he’s not pitching a tent--

“You’ve been staring at me all day,” Steve says, letting the sweater fall back into place. “Guy like you’s dangerous when he’s quiet like that.”

“Like that sweater,” Billy shrugs, shooting for nonchalance. 

Steve blinks at him, cheeks burning red. “You--”

“Look good. Soft, kinda. Cute.”

The hem of that ugly yellow sweater is bunched to show off the low slung of Steve’s hips. 

Harrington’s mouth opens and closes a few times but then he turns away. Ignores Billy’s admission, face and neck so hot an egg could fry an egg on his forehead. Steve pulls the sweater off and strips down to his tighty whities, perfect ass trumped only by the bulge of that cock. 

Billy knows he’s packing. 

God, Billy wants to lick that strip of skin. Rub his dick all over it, cover Steve’s moles and freckles and tighty-whities in come--

Steve sticks his shit into the locker, and Billy has to turn away. Has to at least pretend that he’s not jonesing for whatever glimpse he can get, so. 

Harrington’s locker slams shut and he turns, padding toward the showers. 

When he’s gone, Billy feels like he can breathe again.

Until he notices the sweater’s left, dejected, folded on the lip of Billy’s backpack.

#harringrove #harringrove week #barebacking #lemons #and again I say #not sure what this is #and i didn't proof read #so #that's where we're at

[steveshairychest]

It's mermay so I'm having so many thoughts about siren Eddie trying to lure captain Steve off his ship, but he doesn't realise that Steve is deaf.

Steve knows about Eddie; he's had to stop quite a few of his men from jumping overboard to be with the beautiful siren. He spends so many days just leaning on the railing of his ship, gazing down at Eddie with a triumphant smile because he knows Eddie can't affect him, well, with his singing that is. He definitely affects Steve in other ways. Steve nearly toppled overboard just last week because he was too busy watching Eddie twirl a sword he no doubt stole while lounging on a rock, his gorgeous black tail glinting in the sun.

Eddie gives up trying to lure the captain into the sea after a month, but that doesn't mean he stops visiting the ship. He starts getting bolder. He throws stones in the captain's general direction to get his attention before proudly showing off the big fish he caught, only to get a confused sort of laugh from the man. He expected at least a clap or a thumbs up.

One morning, he spies the small boat that is usually hoisted up high on the side of the ship, in the water and he climbs inside, his tail too long so it hangs off the side while he waits. He nearly gives the captain and crew a heart attack when they finally pull it back up and find him lounging in the small boat with a rather large knife and lazy smile.

"I think you dropped this." Eddie grins at the captain, his sharp teeth causing several crew members to step back. He holds out the knife that he saw the man clumsily drop into his waters months ago. He is feeling generous. He'd normally keep treasures like that for himself.

"Thank you." Steve says with a soft smile. The warmth of his fingers shocks Eddie when he gently grabs the knife from his hand.

Eddie watches curiously as Steve turns to one of his crew mates, hands her the knife and then starts talking with his hands, well, that's what Eddie assumes is happening because the girl nods in understanding and rushes off to do whatever the captain said. He turns back to Eddie with a bright smile but Eddie can't stop staring at his hands. What was that?

"My name is Steve. What's your name?" Steve says the words out loud and with his hands, it both confuses and intrigues Eddie.

"Teach me that." He rushes out and points at Steve's hands, completely ignoring the captain's question.

Steve tilts his head in confusion, his brows furrowed and his eyes focused on Eddie's lips. His stare makes Eddie feel squirmy and he curls his lip to reveal sharp teeth to show Steve he doesn't like the attention. The captain doesn't get the memo and just stares harder.

"Talk slower. I can't hear you." He points to his ear and suddenly everything makes sense. Why Steve wasn’t affected by his song, why he didn't hear the crew screaming in the night when they were attacked last week. Eddie had almost been ready to climb aboard to wake the sleeping captain but the girl with the short hair had gone to fetch him just in time.

Eddie grabbed the edge of the small boat he was in and leaned closer to Steve, he was very aware that if the crew let go of the rope he'd go crashing back down to the sea but none of them moved. All their eyes watched the strange exchange between their captain and the siren that had been following them like a shadow.

"Teach me how to talk to you. I want to learn." And he does. Something about this human intrigues him. Why else would he follow him across the sea? If he were anyone else, Eddie would have slit his throat and dragged him down to the depths by now, but this captain is special.

He's decided that Steve will be his and his alone. Eddie always gets what he wants and what he wants is to learn Steve inside and out. Which includes learning this new language.

"OK, I'll teach you." Steve says with a nod.

Eddie smiles triumphantly, his sharp teeth on full display. "Great. Lessons start now." He looks pointedly at the space across from him in the small boat and Steve only hesitates for a moment before awkwardly climbing in.

"Tie it off and get back to work." He yells out to his crew without taking his eyes off Eddie, whose long tail is curled behind Steve. They sit in tense silence, Eddie's long nails tap tap tapping on the side of the boat before Steve sighs and says, "We'll start with the basics."

"Whatever you say, Captain."

The language is hard and Steve often laughs at Eddie when he angrily shakes his hands when he doesn't get the sign right.

But Eddie's determined to get it right because he's now one step closer to getting what he wants, and what he wants is Steve all to himself.

#MERMAY ANYONE ?!?!?! #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #st4 vol2 #steveddie #stranger things s4 #i didn't proof read this soorry #hoh steve harrington #siren eddie munson

[whimsical-roasting]

Jamie Tartt and the Five Love Language

THERES SO MUCH I COULD SAYYY and special thanks to @caapsiizzereads for helping me brainstorm some of these!! ugh just wanna love on the babyboy so much yknow??

TELL ME IF THERE'S MORE YOU CAN THINK OFFFFF

Words of Affirmations:

HE HAS A PRAISE KINK. ITS LITERALLYYYYYYY CANNON 

Babyboy is so precious…… he knows how it feels not to get kind words, and so he just can’t help but give them out to you

“Woah, babe…your mind..” in a stunned manner when you go off about something you’re passionate about

“You’re everything to me,” he whispers at night as you fall asleep

Has a shared spotify playlist that you both can collab on, and it’s just songs (lyrics) that remind you of each other!! Jamie plays it when he’s heading to away games in the coach, and it makes him feel a bit calmer 

Giving you ALL the praise and dirty talk during sexy time “you’re so fucking beautiful”, “you make me feel so so good” “holy fuck angel” 

Sometimes just stares at you randomly with a goofy look and you’re like ??? what ??? what is it ?? did he realise i’m ugly or my nose is weird or wHAT !!!???!! and he’s just like, “you look like sunshine”, all smitten and shit

Kisses each feature on your body and says “my favourite” to every. single. one.

“I believe in ya!”

Desperately wants to make sure you guys have a couple’s song - something meaningful that describes how he feels about you that he can play for you both… like Sweet Nothings by Taylor Swift/Hearts Don’t Break Around You by Ed Sheeran/Simple Things by Miguel 

Plays that song after fights when the silences are still tender; when you’re drunk and slow dancing in the kitchen at 3am; when you’re getting dressed for a gala, and he’s fixing his hair, and you’re putting on your earrings

“I adore you, sweetheart”, “you look like a pretty flower”, “me heart fuckin sings seeing ya”

Physical Touch:

Absent-mindedly plays with your hair

Nuzzles face into your neck and then peppers kisses on your shoulder

Massages/scratches your scalp cause he knows how good it feels when you do it for him

Traces patterns on your knee and thighs if you sit next to him

Gotta be holding hands at all times

Pinky promises are sacred… probs locks pinkies and then kisses his thumb to “stamp it” 

Slapping his ass as he walks past you, and so he’s always covering his butt, complaining “babeeee you can’t do thattttt”, but then he’ll be all pouty if one day you don’t slap his ass when he walks past… “do you not love me anymore?”

He will randomly come up to you, wrap your arms around you, getting as close as possible and tuck his face between your shoulder and neck, saying that he’s recharging

Always gotta be touching some part of you.. it’s the only way to live tbh

Gift Giving:

Remember when Jamie was like, “can’t I just buy them all PS5s as a sorry??” “what better thing to spend money on than love?“ LMFAOOOO babyboy :”) he means well

The amount of effort he put into Roy’s gift for Uncle’s Day <3 

Jamie would fucking love getting you fancy, expensive gifts around big occasions (birthdays, holidays etc.) 

BUT I think he’d also love getting you smaller gifts like… Sunday morning flowers, or stocking up on different kinds of herbal tea in his kitchen cause he knows sometimes you’re in the mood for a random cuppa on quiet evenings

Personally, someone like me loves cute tea cups/mugs, so I think buying two mugs to keep in his house cause “they’re so cute, and I wanted them for us” would make him so happy!! He doesn’t even use them all that much, but just seeing them in the cupboard makes him smiley

The kind to want matching outfits or colour-coordinated outfits - most def would buy you both matching sneakers (so would Isaac/most of the team with his S/O)

Gets you a ‘J’ gold chain and wears a gold one with your initial 

If he sees some targeted ad on your insta or something for what you’ve searched up he’s like hmmm,,,,,,i might just,,,*add to cart*

Quality Time:

Wants to spend all his time with you!! Ofc he does!!! 

Is happy to just sit in silence, stroking your calves he watches tiktok with your legs on his lap!! Esp if you’re like reading/doing work on your laptop

He just wants to be there yknow? And he tries not to be annoying but the little puppy can’t help but wanna talk and touch and, ultimately, annoy you

Tries to invite you to all his events? “Can me girlfriend come?” 

Even the ones that aren’t for guests, “babeeee, what do ya mean you won’t come to Colin’s guys' night? I swear they’ll be fine with it…probably!!” “can I come to girl’s night with ya? I’ll let you paint me nails…come on.. Pleaseeee?”

Texts you periodically during the night regardless ahahaha

I like the idea of, “hey I gotta drive somewhere, and it’s gonna take me 30 minutes..can you talk?” whilst one of you is in the car and the other’s at home or, I dunno, has some time during their day 

Date nightssssss every two weeks… OR if the season gets busy and he’s also exhausted from Roy’s trainings then SPECIFIC carved out time to be affectionate and date-y

“I’m so sorry, love, I know we had that reservation tonight, but I came home knackered and just crashed…” “Jaim, it’s okay-” “No, no, it’s not! I’m so fucking dead from training I don’t even get to take ya out anymore! What if- what if you wanted a picnic, huh!” “Baby, it’s okay, really.. How about we set up a picnic on the living room floor and order takeout? Something that Roy’ll let you eat, yea?” “I’m so fucking grateful for ya, angel, I swear” 

He always wants you to watch him score a goal on FIFA cause he’s a child ahahaha… probably teaches you how to play and then pouts when you score as Obisanya 

Wants to try out random hobbies with you - sip and paint cause “I’ll have an excuse to draw outta the lines”; knitting cause “Bumbercatch said it’s soothin, babe”; quick dry clay but he makes a big circular lump at first and grins at you “look babe!! I made a football!” 

Acts of Service:

HIM TEACHING ROY HOW TO RIDE A BIKE 

Makes you coffee once he’s back from his 4am training 

Always offers you his jacket/coat

“I know this was stressing ya, babe, so I took care of it”

“Don’t worry, love, I’ve been practising this dish just for you.. I won’t burn it this time, promise”

Late night cravings???? McDonald’s fries and an Oreo Mcflurry?? He’s already slipping on his jacket and finding his keys (imagine how attentive he’d be with your weird ass pregnancy cravings omg)

ALWAYS opens doors for you... Probably yells “WAIT” when in the car with you just so he can jog out and open your door with a grin 

Always down to carry your purse, puts it on his shoulder like it’s HIS despite having his lil bum bag across his chest

Nightime or morning routine, he probs has to get ready before you so he lays out your skincare for you. Probs adds toothpaste on your brush if he hears you getting ready to enter the bathroom

Probably the main one driving everywhere, but if you drive and need to fill up your tank, he’ll be the one to get out and fill it then pay,,, he’s almost offended that you say you’re capable of doing so yourself, “babe, what am I here for?!”

Tries to eat in accordance with your dietary requirements (e.g. I’m vegetarian) if you guys have date night - or he’ll always have like mouthwash and gum so he can kiss ya later without making you feel uncomfortable!!

“Ooh babe, they have the ravioli ya like and the vodka gnocchi!! Okay, you order the ravioli, and I’ll get the gnocchi and we’ll split, yea?” “Hey Jaim, can we order fries too?” “Fuck yea!”

#jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso x reader #jamie tartt #phil dunster #jamie tartt love languages #tell me moreeee #i didn't proof read so gl bae

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Randomly thinking about “tolerate it” (narrator voice: it was not random) and how under the cloak of fiction it is ostensibly inspired by works like “Rebecca” (which Taylor said she read during the 2020 lockdowns I believe?), with the line of “you’re so much older and wiser” indicating that the speaker is significantly younger and inexperienced compared to the person she’s speaking to and a pretty direct reference to the plot of the book.

But I saw something somewhere once that stuck with me about how it might not be referring to relative age between the characters but chronological age as in the passage of time in a relationship. And that made me think about how in a contemporary context, it might not necessarily be referencing an actual age gap between the two characters, but rather a sarcastic or cynical response to the man’s claims that he has matured (“you’re so much older and wiser [than you were before/than you were when we met/etc.]”), which then made me think about that line in relation to the woman. And that it could be taken like, “you act like you’ve matured so much in our time together and like you know everything, while I’m supposedly still stuck as the girl I was when we first met.”

Which then made me think of the “right where you left me” of it all and did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen time went on for everyone else she won’t know it and the bit in Miss Americana where she talks about how celebrities get frozen at the age at which they got famous, and how she’s had to play catch up in a lot of ways not just in her emotional growth but kind of in general. (Which also made me wonder if she’s ever been called out for immaturity/lack of curiosity/lack of education about things in her life…)

Which then made me think about the rest of the song, and @taylortruther’s posts yesterday about “seven” and “Daylight” and the way Taylor idealizes her youth yet contrasts it with an almost sinister reality in its wake, and the line, “I sit by the door like I’m just a kid,” because the discussion raised that her relationship let her recapture some of the childlike joy and wonder she’d lost. So this line is a double-edged sword: the speaker sits by the door with childlike hope that the person will come home and cherish her, but on the darker side, feels like the child dealing with the monsters she doesn’t have names for yet and the feelings of isolation she felt as she aged.

I’m not saying the song is necessarily autobiographical; like most of the songs on folkmore, it’s clearly a fictionalized story based on media she’d consumed and created, but we know a lot of the fictional songs were infused with her own feelings and experiences and… This idea swirling in my head picked up steam and now I kind of can’t stop thinking about it. Sorry but I’m a little obsessed now.

Like maybe it might start to shed light on why she identified so strongly with the novel in the first place…

#the third eye has been opened #😵‍💫 #like tolerate it was always a difficult song #even when we learned it was based on Rebecca it obviously took on new meaning post-joever #and especially in light of ttpd #but the thought spiral i went on last night when i started thinking about all these connections #and the evermore of it all #I’m Charlie at the conspiracy board again #writing letters addressed to the fire #me thinking too hard about Taylor lyrics #evermore my beloved #tolerate it #i kinda gave myself the ick with all this 😵‍💫 #because of the ttpd of it all coming up #and i feel like i remember interviews where Taylor said joe was so well-read especially about like world events and politics and stuff #and supported her when she wanted to start speaking up (not getting into that) #but just based on ~vibes now I wonder if that was like a sore point too at some point #which again i have no proof of but just like… experience with pretentious millennial art bros lol #oh man oh man oh man #this feels like some sort of huge revelation at 1:00 am #when i started writing this lol #eta: when I queued this in the middle of the night i didn't see all the excellent discussion about the seven/folklore posts #so all of you who have been posting about them this morning consider yourselves tagged too!

[teastainedprose]

Mark You Pretty (Homelander x Reader)

My brain saw this post and ran with it. Homelander bruises you. 13k words, Homelander x GN!reader (Warnings for bruising, mild Sadism/masochistic play)

The first time Homelander bruises you, it's an honest mistake. He didn't mean to grab you that hard. Not really. Sometimes Homelander forgets how delicate normal people can be. It had been a reflexive thing, snatching you about the arm just above your wrist as you reach over him to gather up the handouts from the meeting.

"Leave it," Homelander mutters with eyes still fixated on the stack of papers set before him, gloves creaking as he briefly tightens his grip on your arm before releasing you. The small gasp you make as you withdraw doesn't penetrate his concentration. He doesn't notice how you rub at your arm, expression pinching up while stepping away. You're another faceless worker bee and Homelander has no time for you. The meeting is over and you shuffle out with the other nameless non-supe Vought employees. His attention is back to the paperwork in front of him, mind buzzing on how to handle the downswing in public opinion on The Seven. You're forgotten as Homelander turns back to the task of being Homelander.

He doesn't even register that he hurt you until the next day. It's the top you're wearing that does it. Long sleeved and out of season, which draws his attention to you for the second time this week. He registers the blooming bruise peeking out from under your sleeve when you bend over to offer handouts about the table. He blinks, clocking the imprint as a mirror of his gloved grip. There's no guilt associated with this realization, simply an understanding of the connection. He did that to you. Homelander marred your pretty skin with a bloom of purple where he grabbed you. Suddenly, it's satisfaction that's coiling in his gut. He likes how you wear his mark.

For better or worse, now he notices you.

Homelander lets his eyes wander up your arm, snagging briefly on your ample chest before flicking across your face. You instantly look away, unable or unwilling to meet his gaze. Cute. He smirks as he takes you in. You're a charming enough little thing. A bit too skittish for his taste, but the bruise he left on you keeps drawing Homelander's eyes back over and over again.

For the entirety of the meeting, Homelander lets his attention wander to you while his eyes roam your form. He's shameless with the ogling and never looks away when you catch him at it. No, he's only further pleased by it. He makes sure to catch your eye as his lips curl up and part slightly, his tongue poking at the corner of his mouth. That gets a blush across your cheeks and you're quick to break eye contact. This only amuses Homelander further and galvanizes him to find further ways to unsettle you throughout the meeting. You are his distraction to make this presentation a little less dull.

The meeting ends and Homelander puts you from his mind once more as soon as you walk out the conference room doors. You're nothing but a passing amusement, something to play with at the next meeting perhaps. He's already letting the image of your blush and the bruise he left on your skin fade from his thoughts before something catches in Homelander's ear later that day as he strides down the hallway.

There are many curious sounds within Vought Tower and Homelander has heard plenty. People whispering secrets across phone lines and into ears. Muffled moans of employees sneaking off to empty conference rooms or even broom closets for salacious rendezvous. The one that catches him now? It's soft, more a quiet exhale with a moan undercutting the sound. He blinks, pausing to look towards where the sound came from. It's your office Homelander finds himself standing outside as he cocks his head to the side. He watches you as you sit at your desk, clearly not thinking yourself observed. X-ray vision lets him watch as you press two fingers into the bruise he left on you, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to hold back that noise. You moan again all the same, your enjoyment evident as your face twists into a brief flash of pleasure.

Oh, isn't that interesting?

Now Homelander's fascination with you ignites. His eyes seek yours constantly throughout every business meeting the two of you find yourselves in now. He's prone to stepping too close and invading your personal space whenever Homelander comes across you, which has jumped in frequency. He even has the gall to hook his pinky on the sleeve of your shirt one day, tugging it up enough to check if the bruise is still there. By then the purple has faded to a duller, splotchy green. His mark is almost gone and Homelander finds he doesn't like that one bit.

The second time Homelander bruises you, it is very intentional. 

He's bolder the second week. Homelander deliberately holds you back after one meeting with a flimsy excuse. Those massive doors ominously shutting close after everyone else has filed out. Now you're trapped inside the conference room with him. It makes your pulse skitter with terror, which is an utter delight to Homelander. He can smell the fear off of you. A heady scent that stirs a primal need within him because it's mingled with your arousal as well. That fact alone has a smirk on Homelander's lips as he approaches you, hands clasped behind his back and under his cape as he leisurely strolls over. Normally, such posture would be non-threatening but on Homelander it's anything but.

It's a terrifying sight yet compelling. Homelander is ever the perfect superhero in looks. Vought's true golden boy that you and countless others privately swoon over in the break room despite his reputation. yet even you have learned that Homelander isn't the squeaky clean supe he's portrayed as. The looming trial only adds further credit to the rumors that circulate about him. Still, it's thrilling, and you may be a little too into the danger Homelander represents. You can't help the anticipation coiling in your belly as you watch him stalk closer.

He traps you there against the wall, shifting as he places a palm flat against it. You stare at his chest as Homelander slides his hand down, lifting it to cup your chin to tilt your gaze up to meet his own. "Er, you wanted to talk sir?" You manage to push the words out, flushing at the tremor in your voice. He smiles and those too sharp canines flash. You shiver, eyes wide as you meet the clear blue of his gaze.

"You bruise easily, don't you?" Homelander muses, his hand on your chin shifting to stroke down your cheek before moving to your neck. Electric heat shoots up your spine from the chaste caress, the leather of his gloves smooth against your skin. His fingers curl around your throat as you feel his thumb ghost over your pulse point. Your breath hitches at the subtle threat but then he's sliding his hand down to tighten his fingers about your shoulder. Homelander digs his thumb in just below your collarbone to the point of pain as he watches you intently.

You hiss in response, eyes squeezing shut before you huff out a sound. It’s not a pained noise. An echo of the sound he’d heard by chance last week. He eases up, a knowing look on his face as you open your eyes again.The scent of your fear lesses, while your arousal fills his nostrils. You like the pain. He smirks all the wider while leaning in to ghost his lips over your cheek. 

"I didn't mean to hurt you." Homelander rumbles out, breath a hot caress against your skin. For the other day or just now? You don't know which he's apologizing for and there's not much time to ponder over that because Homelander's lips are against your own in the next breath.

His mouth against your is Homelander's sort of apology, more for him than you but you enjoy it all the same.

#Homelander #Homelander x reader #homelander x you #Homelander Writing #lil masochist reader~ #he's making that face in the gif for CERTAIN #I had an idea for a third mark but you guys will just have to imagine finger marks on hip bruising #a bitch is tired #I didn't proof read this #ENJOY IT RAW BB #I haven't forgotten my gazillion drafts and fics and asks #I just am...a finicky creature

[tiredmamaissy]

so how do you feel ab cockwarming 😗😗 and if it’s a yes from you, what would cockwarming be like with neteyam? 🤭

would you believe if i said that i had to look this up? loool but yes.

neteyam is the kind of guy that wants to feel as close to you as he possibly can, at all times. always touching you in someway, whether it's a simple stroke of your tail or a pat on your thigh, he craves nothing more than your constant company. at night he would press his warm, bare body against yours in bed, intertwining his legs with yours to get as close as he can with you. tsaheylu would play an important role in your bedtime routine, always being made right before you both fall asleep. it's the ultimate way to bond with one another, to feel as connected as possible. until one night, a thought would pop up in his head, innocently at first. a new way to feel more connected - to bond. what if he just slid it in? nothing more, nothing less. to be inside you is to be close to you, so why not? of course you'd hear his thoughts through the bond, seeing the image of him sinking his cock inside you until his tip kisses your cervix, and staying there whilst he snuggles his face into the crook of your neck. you wouldn't be able to deny the way it made you feel, to see such lewd thoughts so innocently displayed. he'd never outwardly ask for it though, it's just the gentleman in him. most of his lewd thoughts and ideas remain unsuggested in the case that you wouldn't be comfortable with him, and he's more than happy to just do whatever you wanted.

"go ahead, teyam." you'd whisper, backing yourself up onto him.

he'd be surprised, tsaheylu being such a regular part of your nightly routine that he'd forget that you could hear his every thought and feel his every desire.

"hm?" he'd hum, confused and groggy.

"you can put it inside me, i don't mind." you'd reassure him, reaching behind you to do it yourself.

just as he'd imagined, he'd bury his hot face into the dip of your neck, inhaling your scent as he slides himself inside you.

#wow i didn't mean for this to be so long i was just typing away #not proof read because i'm so tired rn and balls deep in a fic #neteyam smut #neteyam sully smut #awow smut #avatar smut

[urbanflorals]

✧ Emma ✧ she/her ✧ minor ✧ books and food

┊ ➶ ｡°.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Hii! Welcome to my blog:

Basic Info:

✧ Emma/Ems ✧ she/her ✧ Minor - birthday Jan 12 ✧ Capricorn ✧ INTJ ✧ Australian ✧ Ferrari girl <3 ✧ I will defend my babies warnette and Evajacks until i die. ✧ i am a firm believer in sarcasm. ✧ if you see me posting about writing its cause I have no motivation. I post about it, but don't necessarily do it ✧ I'm an introvert but will absolutely come out of my shell and become and extrovert when you get to know me

┊ ➶ ｡°.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Things I love

✧ Books -> [series] The inheritance games, acotar, shatter me, the folk of the air, the prison healer, caraval, ouabh, dance of theives, divine rivals (waiting for the next one to come out), the lunar chronicles, the red queen, when in rome series, the naturals, six of crows.

✧ Books -> [standalone] Better than the movies, if he had been with me, the do over (basically anything by lynn painter), the cheat sheet, powerless, the summer of broken rules and a lot more I cannot remember cause I panicked :)

✧ Music -> Taylor swift, Gracie abrams, Tate McRea, a little of Lana Del Rey, Chase Atlantic, Artic Monkeys, Guns and Roses, Little mix, Conan Gray. My music is allllll over the place lmao.

✧ Christmas <3333

✧ Rain <3

✧ Movies -> Now you see me 1 & 2, knives out 1 & 2, oceans 8, 11, 12, & 13, Mamma Mia, the adam project, enola holmes, red notice and basically and chick flick

✧ Tv shows -> B99, Friends, babysitter's club, alexa and katie, fuller house,

✧ art -> I paint, sketch, and draw, whenever I feel like it. I mostly draw. I want to learn how to use gouache and oils paints.

✧ other -> baking and cooking :)

✧ making moodboards -> here is my master list

┊ ➶ ｡°.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

More Info

✧ my dream life is to runaway to paris or new york and open up a bookstore/cafe/flower shop. (and to be the rich hot aunt the everyone loves)

✧ I will most likely put 'lmao', 'lol', <3, :) at the end or in every sentence I can - just cause I want to talk to you but I don't want to come on too strong lmao (see right there - perfect example)

✧ I want to travel when I'm older! [places] -> London, Paris, Italy, Greece, Turkey, Sweden, Germany, New York, Bahamas, Japan, Korea, and a bunch more!

✧ I spend an unhealthy amount of time on Pinterest and Tumblr.

✧ I'm basically friendless if you exclude online friends. So if we're moots you're my best friend, no take backs

✧ Also I love getting new book, show, movie, music recs!

✧ My Wattpad -> My Pinterest

✧ If you want to know anymore just ask! Seriously, I have like zero friends in real life, so you can spam me anytime. I love talking to new people.

✧ special moots: [if you want to be added or removed just ask!] -> @blythexparker, @kitsohana, @myster3y, @stvrlighhttt, @skeelly, @my-mind-is-frozen, @atwtmvftvtvsgavralpsss, @bookscorpion73, @blocked-zombieartist, @urgirlnextdoorr, @nqds, @reminiscentreader, @crenna, @someones-name-inserted-here, @banilikesfictionalpeople, @yourinterruptingmyreading, @mqstermindswift, @seaveysoceaneyes <3

✧my 100 followers event

✧ this is a safe space for everyone!! ↳ Dni - if you're a racist, homophobe, sexist, pedos, ect..

lots of love

Emma <3

┊ ➶ ｡°.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Ps: this was also inspired by @stvrlighhttt, hehe ik you said u didn't want credit but i think u deserve it mwah <3

#I redid this #this one was so much better #intro post #i didn't proof read this so lemme know if u see a mistake #for some reason it keeps making the letters bigger idk how to stop it

[jihyocentric]

I hope this is okay I feel like my writer brain can't do good prompts cause I might go into too much detail but imma try ngjgjgjh

Lawyers mihyo who're maybe working on a case together? Mina has this habit of going full hot girl sharon to mess with Hyo at random ass moment cause they're close enough that she doesn't feel as shy most of the times and she doesn't know that Jihyo is constantly one wrong (right) move from begging to be ruined. Ione day Mina does something that has Jihyo forgetting all her professionalism and downright pleading to get fucked. This makes Mina realise she loves making Jihyo beg which leads to maybe some edging and some teary Jihyo and some soft aftercare? Also since they're lawyers maybe all this happens somewhere at the law firm before an important briefing they're supposed to have with a client?

hi bestie! i could've done something much better with your request but ykw i was dying to post jihyo bottoming again... she was made for this... and i miss her

cw: mina has stiletto nails. and she still tops. power move. good for her. not so good for jihyo.

mina knows what she’s doing.

she knows exactly what she’s trying to achieve by the way she acts around her sweetest coworker, jihyo, being especially fueled with the reactions she gets.

that jihyo was adorable when pink was all over her face and she didn’t know where to look, mina knew. she was the reason for that, meticulously provoked that out of her, making her usually focused, serious coworker, shy and exceptionally flustered.

to mina’s surprise, when they were alone, their roles seemed to be reversed — jihyo, instead of being the cool extrovert she was most definitely proud to be, became no more than a timid mess, sometimes incapable of looking at mina in the eye when speaking to her.

the situation didn’t make their work any harder whatsoever, as they rarely worked on the same case along each other, with jihyo being a corporate lawyer and mina being inclined towards the criminal field. that time, they were working together due to one of jihyo’s clients, who happened to need assistance from mina’s field.

“miss myoui…” jihyo calls, using the honorific, as mina had never told her not to. every other coworker, except for the interns, called mina by her name — never ‘miss’. but something about having jihyo calling her ‘miss’ left mina too satisfied, unable to tell jihyo to drop the display of respect.

a small smile prods at her lips when jihyo calls her for the nth time, in a hesitant voice, unlike the way she spoke to others. with confidence, that is. when speaking to mina, jihyo often forgot that she wasn’t on a lower position than mina at the firm. if anything, it was mina who was supposed to treat her with such respect, as jihyo had been there for longer.

mina was supposed to be working. she didn’t tell jihyo she’d already looked though the files they were studying and found her ways to convince the judge that jihyo’s client was innocent — if he was, that didn’t matter. he could be if mina could prove that he was. mina had planned ahead, knowing she wouldn’t have time alone with jihyo again soon, deciding to make the best out of it.

and so, because mina already knew what to do and what to expect from the meeting they’d have with their client later that same day, instead of working, she observed jihyo — and distracted her when she felt like it. what starts with sitting next to jihyo with a leg over the other, intentionally exposing her thighs, escalates to suddenly praising jihyo at random times. (she does it for jihyo’s excellent work, and because jihyo looked pretty.)

mina takes her sweet time to make jihyo lose her focus entirely, having fun as jihyo slowly forgets how to use her words properly. jihyo doesn’t stutter, but she struggles to sound professional when miss myoui is touching her hair and telling her that it looked pretty when it was loose, that she should wear dresses more often, and everything she could possibly say to make jihyo red from her cheeks to the ears hidden under her hair.

jihyo doesn’t understand mina, the way she acts towards her. not at first, not on that occasion. mina has always been like that around her: charming, alluring. she was simply flirty by nature, and jihyo would never think mina was truly trying to flirt with her, but soon mina is massaging her shoulders, having the freedom to do so as they were alone in a conference room, and jihyo is no longer reading through the case’s files.

jihyo doesn’t know how or when mina gets there, behind her, with both hands on her shoulders, whispering questions about the case close to her ear, as if jihyo could possibly answer them. jihyo tries to — she does her best to muster up words to properly answer mina, frustrated when all that comes out from her mouth is a whimper and a stuttered ‘miss myoui’.

“no need to be this tense, jihyo. i’m sure our client will be fine. you’re the best after all,” mina coos, pretending to not notice that what had gotten jihyo troubled wasn’t their case, but her hands pressing her shoulders and nails close to sinking into her bare arms.

“m-miss… please…” jihyo mutters, desperate, still trying to figure how did mina get so close. she feels like she’s embarrassing herself then, calling mina so respectfully, feeling almost like she wasn’t a fellow lawyer, but an intern instead — someone mina could easily boss around, having all the power to do so as a result of being in a higher position.

“so nervous, park.” mina laughs, the sultry sound reaching jihyo’s ear quickly due to how close mina was. she pulls away, turning jihyo’s chair around so that she could see her face, not surprised to find jihyo utterly flushed, but curious as she sees jihyo’s cheeks adorned with tears that she’d hardly noticed falling from her eyes. “are these perhaps because of me?”

jihyo shivers, flinching when mina’s manicured hands are suddenly on her knees, raising her dress up to her thighs, sharp nails purposefully leaving their mark on the lawyer’s smooth skin.

“m-miss!” jihyo lets out then, more tears following her words. though mina had already expected jihyo to be just like that — amusingly shy and submissive, she wasn’t entirely prepared to hear jihyo begging. shameful words slip out of jihyo next, while mina is still admiring jihyo’s pretty face, relishing in the way such a respectable, honored lawyer like jihyo became but a precious prey that she’d love to ruin with just the slightest teasing. “i-inside… please… please!”

jihyo whines softly, holding one of mina’s hands with both of hers, spreading her legs slightly apart, both offering herself and pleading for mina to take her.

mina knows jihyo is aware she could get hurt — the same hands jihyo was politely begging to have inside herself carried the stiletto nails that left her arms and thighs reddened from negligible pressure. still, jihyo held mina’s hand like a cat with it’s owner, not wanting to let go, looking as if she’d cry if mina didn’t do what she so desperately asked for.

“interesting,” mina coos, resisting the urge to wipe jihyo’s tears away, finding her even prettier with her face all wet, enjoying to make her embarrassed, finding jihyo the cutest when she was ashamed. “are you sure, miss park?” mina taunts, raising the dress even more, to the point she could see how wet jihyo was. 

jihyo nods quickly, guiding mina’s hand to her center. “i-i n-need this, miss!” she insists, whimpering when mina’s index finger gets hooked under her panties.

mina stretches it far enough she can see jihyo’s pussy, licking her lips at the thought of having her face between jihyo’s thighs, forcing her to take more than she’d ever be able to handle. though she’d love to ruin jihyo right there and then, amazed by how easy that would really be, they didn’t have a lot more time to spend alone.

“so you like it risky, park?” mina laughs softly. “not that i’m opposed to hurting you,” she lets her fingers sink inside the soaked panties, teasing jihyo’s clit with the tip of her fingers, careful not to harm jihyo. “because you’d love that. i just don’t think you really want these inside of you.”

“but i want them! your fingers,” jihyo mumbles, pouting as she does so, moaning when mina applies more pressure over her clit, circling the sensitive nub slowly. “…inside me. want them inside.”

jihyo would cry harder if mina truly said no, mina realizes, amused to get to know that part of her. jihyo could handle her, even if having mina inside her that way meant that mina wouldn’t be able to fuck her properly — jihyo didn’t care.

“begging already, huh…” mina offers her a gentle smile, though what she says next doesn’t come out as soft. “convince me.”

jihyo becomes even more frustrated then, bucking her hips to feel more of mina’s fingers, earning a click of mina’s tongue.

“’m s-sorry!” jihyo quickly makes up for her mistake. “i c-can take it!” she insists, pouting slightly as she looks up at mina, cheeks burning when she notices just how close mina really was, towering over her, with her eyes so dark that part of jihyo became scared. “y-you don’t have to… t-to move them, miss… i just wan’ them there.”

“keep going.” mina encourages her to beg, her free hand finding the table behind jihyo for support, the other still inside her coworker’s panties, spreading jihyo’s wetness, wanting to know if she could grant jihyo’s wish.

jihyo was wet enough by the time mina lowered her hand further, still rubbing mina’s ego with her pitiful pleading. mina attempts to sink in and jihyo whines, clenching around the tip of mina’s fingers, prepared for the discomfort she’d feel until mina stopped, knuckles deep into her.

it doesn’t hurt — mina is careful and her fingers happen to slip in easily, but if she were to move, then jihyo would certainly be left with unwanted bruises.

perhaps it felt almost as good as having mina really fucking her, thrusting her fingers in and out without an obstacle, as knowing mina could easily tear her apart made her stomach clench, aroused by the idea of it but knowing she wouldn’t want that.

“it’s like you were made for this.” mina praises, lowering herself until her knees were touching the floor, knowing she couldn’t do much with the fingers she had stuffed inside jihyo. she pulls jihyo’s panties down to her ankles, looking up at the already disheveled girl, wondering how jihyo would look if she could really take her time to ruin her. “now, i don’t kneel. but since you’re such a good girl, miss park, i think you deserve this.”

it takes jihyo a lot of effort to not come undone the moment mina’s tongue meets her clit.

everything is hot. despite the cold air in the room, jihyo sweats, her skin burning as mina works her tongue against her sensitive nub, thighs locking mina there, letting out pitiful ‘miss myoui’s, not trying to fight against the urge to have mina destroying her. not in the slightest. it was far too late for that, and jihyo was too weak to pretend that that wasn’t exactly what she’d been craving for.

it’s all too much for her. the way mina sinks her nails on her thigh and moves the fingers inside her just barely, merely pressing her fingers against the slick walls carefully, velvety tongue making jihyo melt on the chair. whimpery moans reach mina’s ears sweetly, making mina moan against jihyo’s pussy, fighting back the urge to lay jihyo on that table and forget about their meeting.

“miss… can i-i…” jihyo hardly finishes her sentence, and mina sends her into a wave of bliss.

her fists become white as she holds the arms of the chair, crying as she gets ready to come for mina, impatient hips moving for more friction of mina’s fingers — but mina stops. what should’ve been an orgasm doesn’t happen, making jihyo open her watery eyes and search for mina’s, wanting to ask why she’d stopped, desperate for her release.

but nothing comes out from her mouth.

“i’m afraid our client must be arriving, miss park. you should probably get yourself clean. we wouldn’t want our client to make... vulgar assumptions, would we?” mina laughs, stuffing jihyo’s mouth with the two slender fingers that had been inside of her. she pulls them back before jihyo gets to fully clean them. “i’ll be waiting for you.”

during the meeting, jihyo gets to be the professional she was. mina doesn’t try anything while they’re discussing important matters with their client, and jihyo is allowed to prove mina she’s still a great professional after having her pride previously hurt. (not that jihyo cared if mina knew about her tendencies to submission, but part of her wanted mina to know she was more than that.)

when their client leaves, it’s already night. jihyo then finds herself trapped against mina and the table again, but this time, all mina wants is to let her know that they’re going home together — to mina’s. all mina says is that they weren’t yet done, and jihyo had no choice other than follow mina.

when the sun is rising, jihyo is still at mina’s mercy. mina is impressed with how far she was able to go with jihyo, only allowing her to come when she knows jihyo is about to break and beg her to stop rather than letting her come.

she learns then that she’s especially fond of the way jihyo sobs into the pillow when she is finally allowed to come, ass up for mina (barely able to stay like that, because her knees falter and her legs start trembling as she comes), body completely ruined by mina’s teeth, the palm of mina's hands and her sharp nails.

“you cry a lot, jihyo.” mina mumbles, pulling out of jihyo, slowly taking the harness around her waist off. jihyo turns her head to the other side when mina leaves the strap on the bed, next to her face, her body finally falling against the bed, still inevitably crying as mina kissed her back. “did i push it too far?”

jihyo shakes her head, incapable of looking at mina in the eye as she comes back to her full senses.

“talk to me, hyo. i need to know you’re feeling well,” mina’s voice softens, entirely different from the way she’d been speaking to jihyo all day long. she makes jihyo turn around and face her, thumb brushing jihyo’s cheek tenderly as she inches down for a short kiss. “do i have to make you speak?” mina taunts then, making jihyo’s eyes widen.

“n-no, i’m o-okay!” jihyo manages to say, tears falling as she blinks, her body still trying to recover from being used, abruptly forced to not come several times. “i’m just… i-i… you make me nervous!”

“i didn’t even notice.” mina smiles and jihyo pouts, losing her breath when mina presses her lips to her forehead. “you’re cute, miss park.”

jihyo huffs, the reaction more instinctive than intentional. “i’m not.”

“sure,” mina coos. she pulls away, intending to take jihyo in her arms and take care of her.

for a moment mina stops, admiring her well-done work ruining jihyo’s body, licking her lips when she runs her eyes down and catches a glimpse of jihyo’s reddened, soaked core, thoroughly ruined from being played with for far too long. mina’s stomach tightens at the realization that jihyo was still leaking with her own wetness, getting mina’s bed soaked under her.

jihyo sits up on the bed, face close to mina’s, wanting to get her attention away from her body, feeling shy again. “miss myoui.”

“it’s mina. no need to call me miss all the time,” mina passes her arm around jihyo’s waist. “though i liked to hear it when you were begging for me.” she finishes, and jihyo’s head fall to her shoulder. “mind to join me on a bath, miss park?”

“i like hyo better.” jihyo mutters softly. “can you give me a minute?”

“mhm.” mina agrees, but she pulls jihyo closer, making jihyo sit on her lap while jihyo finds the courage to get up and let herself be taken care of by mina. “just don’t sleep yet.”

“i won’t…” jihyo yawns, drowsy, closing her eyes and slowly forgetting her own words.

#snowddeong #jihyo #mina #mihyo #fill #i don't remember what tags i usually use... #lets pretend i wasn't supposed to post stuff in december #gonna be honest. i got bored after i wrote like half of what i was working on #anyway here's mihyo! #i didn't do my best proof reading this so ignore typos

[mx24]

NOELLE CHRIST MASTERPOST

taken straight from a reblog i made, here are various things and imagery in and out of game that displays Noelle Holiday's correlation to Jesus Christ.

CW: Weird Route and Christianity.

to start, just off of her personality, Noelle very much has a martyr complex. constantly giving her own comfort up for other's.

she abides her mother's wishes and cannot say no, she gives herself over to Queen willingly to save Berdly, she pushes her own feelings down and hides them to keep other's from worrying.

much of the characters in Deltarune do this kind of stuff too, however, Noelle's also got a lot of other things that lends directly to her Christ theme.

like her name.

Noelle is the feminine form of Noel, which translates to Christmas. the birthday of Jesus Christ, n all that. Holiday also fits.

also, her appearance.

she's got golden hair, which is a relatively common, yet incorrect portrayal of Jesus.

her antlers have an intentional shape, too; they resemble crosses.

her robes in the Dark World are plain and white. people often attribute this to it being a "snow angel" joke, which it is, but miss out on how it also resembles the stereotypical white robes Jesus is oft depicted in.

near the end of the Normal Route too, we also see Noelle posed exactly in a crucifix position. (the blue hand may as well be alluding to the Weird Route.)

so. as for the Weird Route.

the route itself, the way it plays is suspiciously similar to Jesus' final moments before his own crucifixion, but i'm going to gloss over that mostly in favor of directly visible canonical info. of which is this.

the Thorn Ring, or as Spamton phrases it, "[Ring] of [Thorns]" is a word for word parallel to the Crown of Thorns. the crown was an object of mockery created by the Romans and placed upon Christ's head right before his crucifixion.

... i know i said i wasn't gonna talk about it, but i think it's fair to mention how Kris, a trusted friend of Noelle's, is the one to "betray" her and "sell her out" (Dark Dollars for the ring) in the same way Judas Iscariot, trusted disciple of Christ, sells him out in trade for silver. they are also possessed by the Player, which in one of the Gospels it is said Judas was possessed by the Devil.

now for canonical information outside of the game.

in the Spamton Sweepstakes, particularly Icepalace-Glaceir, the room of which she explores in Dragon Blazers is icy, and more importantly, cross-shaped.

it being an ice area and shaped like that is, i would say, an intentional detail.

ehhhh alright. this is all i can think of off the top of my head, but this girl is a certified Christ Figure.

#mx rambles #deltanalysis #deltarune #weird route #snowgrave #undescribed #[ decided to make this it's own post so i can reference back to it later if i need or whatever. ] #[ also i didn't proof read this too well. ignore any kinda weird wordin n stuff. ] #christianity cw

[queewp]

Small free write I wrote of my Raised Wild AU-

Kinda trying to get a feel for how to write them. When they’re chirping, or speaking non-english, it’ll be either italicized, bolded, or both lmao (the girl is April btw :>) Snippet of a writing I did:

The girl dusted herself off, standing up straighter. Donnie took a step back, bearing his teeth towards the human, as they opened to their mouth to say something. Suddenly, the girl’s gaze left them, going behind them, and into the dark. A loud, airy growl sounded from behind them, large footsteps following in their wake. Leo looked behind them, eyes narrowing at the sight of the alligator snapping turtle. 

Large was an understatement, he was huge. An imposing size compared to all 3 of them, fists clenched and tail stiff behind him. He sent a small glance at Leo and Donnie before his gaze settled on the human. 

The human girl stood frozen, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of her face as she shuffled back a few steps. 

It took only a few seconds before Raph was charging at her, his footsteps vibrating the very ground they stood on as he swung at the girl. A second too late and the girl would be painted on the crate behind her, but instead of hitting her, Raph caught the baseball bat. He let out a hisssss, snaggletooth for display as he crushed the wooden weapon in his hands. The girl yelped as she dodged yet another attack, only to get hit by his sweeping tail. The girl skidded across the docks, the slim rectangle falling out from her pocket. 

Raph went out to charge her again, the girl scrambling back up and dashing to the side. She hauled herself over a small crate, using her smaller size to get through the maze of crates. Raph huffed, before letting out a loud, chilling roar after her. Don’t come back. Even if the human couldn’t understand them, it would be foolish to come back after that.

The sounds of the city docks finally started to come back to them, toads croaking and water swirling behind them. Raph’s hands clenched into fists, snarling loudly out to open air. 

After things finally settled down, small chirpings were heard from above. It took Leo a few seconds to get up towards his little brother, bonking his head with Mikey’s. Their little brother yelped playfully, before jumping up and wrestling him. As the two played fight, Donnie took interest in the tech laying on the ground. He quickly picked it up, twirling it in his claws. The screen was cracked, and he didn’t know if it was due to the fight that just happened or if it was there previously.

It took him only a few seconds before he pressed the button, the screen lighting up. He let out a small thrill of excitement at the phone, staring at it. 

Donnie, Raph’s gruff voice sounded, staring down at him. What’s that? 

A phone, from the human. Raph eyed the phone, a sound of disdain gurgling from him. It’s fine, I know what I’m doing. 

That’s not what I’m worried about. Why did you guys interact with the human? You were supposed to be hunting for food, Raph sounded both angry and disappointed.

I wanted to make sure Leo wouldn’t get himself hurt. It took a second before Raph turned his attention to Leo. 

He chirped, sharp and loud, getting both Mikey's and Leo’s attention. Leo stared at Donnie for a second, letting out a small noise. 

Why did you confront the human, Leo? 

Why not? 

Why not? Raph mocked. What's wrong with you? What if they killed you?! Raph said defensively, jumping up onto the crate with Mikey and Leo, making it shake. Donnie quickly followed suit, standing behind Raph awkwardly. 

Pssh, as if.

 Raph looked like he was going to blow up, splinters digging into his hands. For a second, everyone stared wide eyes at him, unsure if they should back up. You’re not leaving my sight until this cools off, Raph finally said, his chirps struggling to hold back his anger. Got it? 

Leo faltered, sending a glare at Raph, So I get to be stuck in the lair all day?!  This is what happens Leo, when you don’t follow my rules, Raph grabbed Leo by the shell before placing him over his shoulder. The urge to laugh irked at Donnie, but kept quiet under Leo’s heated stare towards him. Mikey followed the group as they walked closer to the water, chirping an out-of-tune song he made up.

#rottmnt #rottmnt au #Raised Wild AU #I didn't proof read so if there's spelling errors im sorry #sob #Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of tmnt #tmnt 2018 #rise of tmnt au #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles au #practice write #fanfic #? #doodle

[strawurberries]

i loved your post about vash and reader’s stretch marks. i was wondering if you could write something where the reader is afraid of getting fat, so she skips meals or replaces them with water?

Missed Meals

Summary: Vash notices a change in his companion's behavior. Worried, he decides to confront her.

Authors Note: I'm glad you liked my other post! I hope you like this one as well (though I'm a little nervous because I got stuck writing this and I'm afraid it came out bad). Also, just want to add, I've struggled with eating disorders before (not from self-image but more like Vash's "I don't deserve to eat") so I understand. Everyone is beautiful in their own right and deserves to eat!!! Love all of you guys!!

Warnings: Self-hate, eating disorder.

It started off small; giving her bread to Milly instead of finishing it off, ordering a lighter meal instead of the usual hardy one she adored, and sometimes she simply said, “I’m not that hungry”. But actions like hers always lead to a slippery slope, one that tends to wrap its dirt-crusted nails around its victim and drag them into an early grave. She had never been someone who ate enough to feed an entire village, but not even she could survive on sips of water and the guilty crumbs she rarely allowed herself to consume. After a while though, it became natural, second nature to head off to bed while the sun still hung in the sky, claiming that exhaustion outweighed her hunger—which, she supposed, wasn’t all a lie.

The best lie, she had been told once, is the one that includes the truth. 

Now, she recalled that advice as she sat at a table in the back of this dingy town bar. What should she say? What could she say? Recently she had been using up all her excuses left and right, the hunger in her belly growing and the pain in her heart becoming ever more sharp. The group had decided to stop by a local bar before heading to the hotel for the night, nearly everyone complaining about the rough day that had been forced to suffer through. And, to them, a drink was something they were eager to welcome. She, if she hadn’t been too preoccupied with her stomach pains, probably would’ve ordered a whiskey to clear her head of every annoying little thought. 

She opted for water though. The least she could do was drink water; she owed it to herself, and so she honored that obligation. Throat parched, mouth achy; the water tasted amazing.

The bar erupted in a shout as someone tripped, roaring laughter drowning out the domestic conversation of her table. Too loud. Vaguely she heard someone mention dinner—she cringed. She did promise herself that she’d finally eat a crumb or a bite tonight (after nearly passing out yesterday she became all too aware of her weakness). She wasn’t dumb, she knew she’d have to eat eventually, that she’d wither away—but one more night, one more meal skipped, it couldn’t do any more harm, right? Besides, from what she had seen on the menu, the foods were all greasy, full of fat and carbs, and wouldn’t help her figure at all.

I just want to look pretty, she reasoned, skipping a meal tonight will help that. God forbid she ate too much and all her progress disappeared: letting that baby fat back under her chin, the muffin-top around her waist, or even the extra flesh on her belly? She’d rather die than let her body look like that again, much less look worse. It terrified her to her core. She needed to look good, and that meant, to her at least, that she must be skinny, thin, and agreeable. Starvation is a small price to pay for beauty.

A waiter slowly started to make their way across the room, eyes set on her table. 

I need to go.

She stood up, giving a small smile, “I’m gonna head back to the hotel.”

“You’re leaving already Miss?” Milly asked, “it’s still early enough for one drink! C’mon!” She raised her glass and grinned, “look! Mr. Wolfwood and Mr. Vash are already enjoying themselves!”

Drunken giggles erupted across the table. 

“Oh Milly,” Meryl sighed, “let the girl get her rest. God knows we all need it.” She waved her hand with the flick of her wrist, “if it wasn’t for the trouble you’re all bound to cause, I would’ve already left myself.”

“Hey!” Wolfwood barked out, “we’ve never caused trouble a day in our lives. . . well, can’t say much for Needle-noggin’ here.”

“It’s not my fault!” Vash cried, “trouble finds me! I always run away from it!” He sobbed into the table, “can’t a man catch a break?!”

Wolfwood laughed and patted him on the back, “it’s all God’s plan, my friend.”

“Well he sure does have a stupid plan!”

With a smile and silent wave, she slipped out from the table and weaved through the bar, the happy expression quickly falling off her face. I’m tired, she thought to herself, ignoring the biting air of the night. A dull ache in the pit of her belly made her stop for a moment, really tired. . . 

She barely remembers getting back to the hotel, much less how she managed to get dressed and settled in bed before that wretched knocking woke her up. With a skip of her heart and a rapid smack of her arms to get the blankets off her cold body, she jumped out of bed and reached for the gun she had tossed on the floor. One smooth movement and she delicately wrapped her fingers around the metal. She didn’t even think about the possibility of her friends needing help, or perhaps just room service making their rounds; the only thing on her mind was the fact that she wasn’t prepared to die that night. 

“Who’s there?” she grumbled out, ducking to hide beside the door, back to the wall. She rubbed lazy circles into the metal, finger twitching every so slightly over the trigger. She had never been the greatest shot, nor the most eager to kill, but she would do what had to be done if it came down to it.

“Vash.”

She blinked, sleep-clogged mind getting dunked into a vat of mean, old reality. Her situation hit her upside the head and she resisted the urge to put her face between her knees and groan about how dumb she is. Instead of wallowing in her stupidity (which, if you really think about it, wasn’t the worst reaction she could’ve had), she sighed, “oh.” A spike of relief shot through her like a summer’s breeze on a warm day. Shoulders relaxing and muscles begging to be sent back to bed. . . only, she wasn’t tired anymore. I’m not sleeping tonight, am I? Her heart still beat like a drum, thumping in her chest like no tomorrow, and her body—taunt and tense, ready for a moment's attack; that’s how she’s survived this long, by being prepared for every situation no matter the outcome. 

“Can uh. . . can I come in?” Squeaked out Vash.

She cursed and opened the door, wooden creaking echoing throughout the hotel hallway, letting her occupied hand hang by her side, “yeah, sorry. What’s the matter?” 

Vash stood in his usual clothes—red coat, ridiculous pants, and bulky boots; his gloves though, she noticed, he wasn’t wearing gloves. He gave her a small smile, “sorry did I scare ya?”

The smile made her less mad about the ordeal, kind and small. He never smiled too widely or genuinely, just enough to show that he cared, that he knew what happiness looked like—though she knew that he thought he’d never be able to obtain happiness, a faraway dream is how he described it to be. Oh, how if given the chance, she would give him all the joy he would ever want. 

She shoved that thought aside.

“A little,” she raised the gun and gestured with it for Vash to come inside. “Why are you up so late?” 

He slid into the room silently, walking over to sit on the edge of her bed, “couldn’t sleep.” he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

That was a lie. She could tell. “Want to talk?” She locked the door and once again tossed her gun next to her bed, hoping it wouldn’t go off from the rough handling. “Or jus’ need someone here?” 

“Just talking, if you don’t mind.”

She nodded, “a’right. How was your day?”

He smiled, “good. You?”

“Peachy.”

The conversation died off.

Neither of them really knew what to say—unspoken words disease the heart and kill the soul, making the tongue bloated and thick. She, not knowing how to comfort her friend as her mind wandered from her own problems to the world’s in general, and he wasn’t sure how to get his point across.

Silence.

Vash cleared his throat, finally collecting his words, “are you. . . okay?” The question hung in the air sourly, sucking any sense of comfort out and churning it into an uninhabitable room of misery. He flinched, as if the mood of the room was hurting him physically. “You’ve been acting a little different lately.”

She leaned against the door, hoping the action would give her the confidence to either run away or admit her inner-thoughts.“Hmm? Fine, you?” She turned her gaze away. Could she run? No, he’d catch her in less than three seconds and her trying to slip out of the room would be an admission of her guilt. But she really didn’t want to talk about herself. She’s doing okay, isn’t she? Just a little tired, anxious, and sad. . . but she’ll get over it. Besides, it’s not like she’s dead yet.

“I’m good.”

“Good.”

Oh how painfully awkward this all was. 

The bed squeaked as he moved to get into a more comfortable position, “I have some leftovers in my room, from dinner, if you want any.” He tapped his leg with his fingers, head angled slightly to watch her expression.

He knows. 

Those eyes, no matter how much of a kind smile or goofy aura he carefully crafted to show everyone, his eyes gave away every part of his secret-self. The part of him that was scarily intelligent, observant, and abnormally calculating—a man smart enough to play dumb and a man strong enough to be kind. That part of him is what interested her so, the gravity that pulled her attention to him everytime he entered a room. 

He knows.

With a defeated sigh she rubbed her shoulder and walked over to the bed, shoving herself behind him to lay back down. If she had to bare her soul to him, the least he could allow her to do was to be vulnerable while being comfortable. He moved slightly to allow her more room, facing away from her as if her very gaze would burn him. “I’m not hungry,” she gave one last effort to cover her lie, to toss her truth out the window in the hopes that it would be buried in the sand. 

“You said that yesterday too.” He stared across the room, back rigid. 

The sands never work in your favor. 

“Huh,” she faced the wall, “guess I did.” The blankets were scratchy, old, and ratty, but she pulled them up to her chin nonetheless. She was tired now. All her adrenaline had poured out of her mouth, dripping onto the creaky wooden floor, seeping into the ground beneath. 

“And the day before.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very.”

She closed her eyes, knowing she had finally been caught in her web of little half-truths. “Haven’t had the stomach to eat anything lately.” Perhaps she could escape this somehow—even though she knew it was futile, part of her accepting the fact that he wouldn’t let this go—, make him run away and stop caring, God that caring! It annoyed her to ends she had never seen before, yet she loved it so. If only he didn’t care, she clenched her fist into the blanket, then this wouldn’t have happened. And it’s not like she’s dying! Nor is she killing herself or drawing blood, she’s only skipping a meal every once in a while.

“I don’t. . .,” Vash trailed off locking his fingers together, “I don’t mean to pry, but you’re starving yourself.” He sat the words quickly, sharply, and promptly, as if he was afraid of them and needed to throw them out of his mouth as soon as possible.

All lies come to an end.

“I know.”

But wouldn’t it be nice if they could live forever?

He bit his lip. “Why?”

“You’re prying,” she snapped. 

“Sorry,” he whispered.

The conversation died off. 

She didn’t mean to sound so rough and uncaring—the opposite of that gentleman—but a fear had struck her heart and she couldn’t stop it. The only way to feel okay, to be okay, was if Vash stopped caring, stopped worrying, and walked out of the room without a second glance (no matter how much that would hurt). Only he had the power to alleviate this anxious pain but she knew she would never allow her to wallow in misery alone.

What did Wolfwood say? She thought to herself, misery enjoys company?

The air turned from sour to stiff, oppressing; like a hand had come to clasp her throat, fingers digging into flesh and muscles spasming as they tried to escape the hold, only it was fruitless.

“Sometimes,” Vash’s voice cut through the air, peeling the layers of devilish emotions back. Slowly he shuffled down to lay next to her, on his back, hands laced over his chest. “I feel like I don’t deserve to eat. . . how can I allow myself to eat when I know how the people I failed, the people I let die, will never be able to enjoy things like that again? And, really, I think part of me hopes I’ll die from starvation, so I can take an easy way out.” He paused and let out a shuddering sigh.

She didn’t move. 

“I don’t know why you’re doing this, and you don’t have to tell me, but I understand in part. And if you ever need anything, I’m here. Okay?”

Why did he have to be like this? Why did he have to care? And why did she want to accept it so damn bad? If he had never noticed, if he had never looked at her with those eyes, if he had never met her—then she’d be living in her little palace of warped perception like a Queen of nothing but barren hearts. A ruler of her own land, a lawmaker who bows to no one; only this man had come into her secluded little kingdom, raided the halls of the castle, and whisked her away to feel the sun. It hurt her. To know how delicious the outside tasted, yet know how her soul felt safer within her prison.

“Do you think,” the words died in her tongue, nervousness making her numb. To hell with it, he already figured it out. Might as well bite the bullet.“ That I look pretty?” she whispered. 

Silence. 

Oh, that was a mistake, wasn’t it? The silence hurt in her ways that she didn’t even know could hurt.

Vash choked on his own spit and coughed, “w-what?”

Suddenly she wished the silence was still there.

Of course he’d have a reaction like that! She’s ugly, big, and broken. Why did she think it’s run out any different? “Nevermind.” She buried her face into the blanket, biting back a rumble of sobs in her throat; eyes stinging gently. 

“No! No! You—you just caught me off guard! I think you’re beautiful, really.” He turned over frantically, hand awkwardly hovering over her shoulder as he talked into her neck.

“You wouldn’t think the same way if I was bigger,” she curled into herself, “if I was fatter.” She aggressively wiped her tears away, “and skipping a couple meals isn’t too bad if it’s for a good reason, you know?” She wasn’t sure if she was believing herself at this point.

He was silent. 

“No matter what,” he twiddled his thumbs, ears turning red, “I think you’d still be beautiful. If you were taller, shorter, thinner, bigger, only had one leg or, um, like lost both eyes or something—” he heard her lowly whisper an audible “what?”, “I’d still think you’d look amazing. And, if anyone says otherwise, they don’t deserve you.” He hesitantly set a hand on her shoulder, rubbing comforting circles, “no matter what, I still cherish you.”

Her voice cracked, “thank you Vash.” His words didn’t convince her entirely, but still, they were nice to hear. 

He hummed. “I know my words aren’t going to fix everything, but we can start here, if you want?”

She let out a bubbling sigh, trying desperately to keep her tears away in order not to embarrass herself further. “I'm scared.”

“That’s okay, I get scared all the time. I’ll be right here for you, the whole way.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

#didn't proof read this #i die like an idiot #i'm going to regret posting this later #i hate it so much #i feel like my writing went 100% DOWN HILL #i blame finals #they're a pain in my ass #anyways #love you guys #plz be nice #trigun #trigun x reader #trigun x you #trigun x y/n #vash the stampede #trigun stampede #vash stampede #vash #Vash x reader #Vash x you #Vash x y/n #Vash the Stampede x you #Vash the stampede x reader #Vash the stampede x y/n #Strawberry writes

[steveshairychest]

Steve and Robin have been working at the plant nursery for months. It was the only job that would hire them both, and it's honestly been the best job they've had.

Steve loves taking care of the plants, loves the way the outdoor plants wave at him in the wind and sparkle in the sunlight after he's watered them. No one gives him weird looks when he talks to the plants because everyone that comes in understands, they're all plant people too, they know talking to plants is hard to resist. Steve loves that they are very good listeners, especially the ferns in the back corner of the nursery. They brush their long arms against Steve's cheek and make him feel so much better after he's finished dumping all his problems on the poor plant.

And then they get a new employee, a guy with long curly hair and too many tattoos and piercings for Steve to count. His name is Eddie. And he does not have a green thumb. Not at all.

Steve can't understand why the nursery hired this guy! He's hopeless!

Steve watches in horror from behind his beloved ferns as Eddie accidentally chops the head off one of the gorgeous rose blooms while pruning and then tries to hide the evidence. He walks away from the rose bush with the poor chopped off bloom clenched tightly in his fist and then he dumps it in the compost bin.

Steve spends the rest of the afternoon glaring at the new guy while talking to the poor rose bush. Eddie flushes a shade of red similar to the rose he murdered any time Steve looks at him, and Steve hates how pretty he looks, hates that it causes a small smile to pull at his lips.

And then Eddie drops a watering can on a peace lily, a peace lily that Steve spent weeks nurturing back to life and the spell Eddie put on him with his flushed cheeks and big, brown eyes is broken.

Robin pities the poor new guy, she can see he's struggling, so she just makes him do all the heavy lifting with her. She doesn't want him anywhere near Steve's precious plants. She saw Steve reach for his giant pruning shears a few days ago when Eddie went near his ferns.

"You know he's terrified of you." Robin says to Steve on their joint lunch break. They're sitting on a stack of soil bags watching Eddie potter around and show people the plants they're looking for. Steve will give him that, he's good with people. Really good.

"Why? I'm nice." Steve takes a bite of his sandwich and avoids Robin's stare. He knows she's giving him the 'don't bullshit me' stare and if he looks, he'll crumble and do something ridiculous like admit he has been kinda mean to the new guy and that he should have just helped him out from the start instead of threatening to chop his fingers off every time he touched Steve's plants.

Steve sighs. "OK, fine. I've been a dick." Robin nods and steals the last bite of Steve's sandwich.

"Now, make it right and play nice with the pretty boy."

"He's not pretty."

"That's not what you said to your precious ferns yesterday. I think you said –" Steve walks off before she can finish and ignores her laughter as he stalks over to where Eddie is crouched in front of the baby succulents.

Steve clears his throat to get his attention and the poor guy jumps in fright and nearly smacks a succulent off the stand. "Steve! Hi! I was just talking to them. I promise."

Steve stifles a laugh and sits down on the floor in front of the low plant stand. He gently pulls a dead leaf off one plant before offering Eddie a smile, a truce. "That's good. They like it when you talk to them. I actually sing to them when I'm here alone." His sudden gentleness must spook Eddie because he just blinks at Steve, his mouth open slightly as he stares in disbelief that Steve actually just spoke to him.

"You can sing?" Eddie sits down next to him and mirrors Steve's actions; gently pulling dead leaves off and checking the soil.

"No, I can't." He laughs. "But the plants don't seem to mind."

They sit in silence for a minute before Steve gathers up his small pile of dead leaves and stands up, Eddie follows suit. "I'm sorry I've been such a dick." Steve rushes out before he loses the courage to admit it. "It's just... you're awful with plants."

Eddie laughs, the sound catches Steve off guard and echoes around the nursery, and Steve realises in that moment that he's never heard Eddie laugh before. It's loud and beautiful and Steve wants to hear it again. Every day.

"I know. I don't have a green thumb at all, but this is the only job that would take me. I think the plants want me to quit."

Steve wanted him to quit. He'd grumbled to Robin about it nearly every day. Eddie knew that and he still stayed. He smiles at Steve in a way that says he doesn't mind, he's just teasing.

But Steve still feels like a total asshole.

"I could teach you how to look after them properly." Steve offers. "I should have offered to help weeks ago." He adds on quietly as they walk through the rows and rows of plants. Steve touches all of them gently, he grazes his fingers along their leaves in a friendly greeting.

"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot." Eddie says with a smile so bright it could rival the sun and cause all of the flowers to bloom.

They spend nearly every day at work together after that. Steve helps Eddie learn all the plants' names, their technical names and the secret names Steve's given them all. Steve shows him how to prune and shape the baby hedges and tries not to blush when their fingers touch while passing over the shears. Eddie is a fast learner. He absorbs everything Steve says and then executes it perfectly. He looks over at Steve and smiles excitedly after he successfully prunes the rose bush without chopping a single bloom off.

The more time they spend together, the more Steve becomes aware of the feeling blooming in his chest. It tickles his ribs and causes him to blush and bump shoulders with Eddie more often, causes him to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Eddie's ear and brush his hand along Eddie’s back whenever he passes him.

The new bloom in his heart causes him to kiss Eddie in the back corner of the nursery behind the ferns.

Turns out Eddie has a green thumb after all because there is something so beautiful blooming between them, and so far only the ferns know about it.

#DID ANYONE SAY OVERPROTECTIVE PLANT DAD STEVE?!!! #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #st4 vol2 #steveddie #stranger things s4 #robin buckley #I DIDN'T PROOF READ THIS I'M SORRY IN ADVANCE

[retromimic]

re: Astarion's age (and others)

I made a random post last week about Astarion's age and I have been thinking about it since.

I also realized that we do have other characters we can use to have a better idea of timelines and stuff.

And by other characters I mean Jaheira and Halsin.

More under the cut, tl;dr at the end

Jaheira

Jaheira is from the first two Baldur's Gate games, which both take place over 100 years before BG3 (1368 and 1369, so 123 before BG3, which is in 1492).

She's a half-elf, who age pretty much the same as human, but live longer, so she probably was in her 20's or early 30's in the first games, which would make her about 150 years old in BG3. This makes sense with her appearance, as half-elves live for about 180 years.

Note: Based on appearance only, it's possible Jaheira was older in the first games, but considering they were released in 1998 and 2000, I highly doubt they made the hot half elf lady an actual middle-age woman lmao

Side note: Minsc

Minsc is a human and also from the first two games, but there is a canon reason why he's still alive and doesn't look like he got older like Jaheira did. iykyk

Halsin

He just straight up says he's 350 years old. He's an elf.

He also does look old, but not that old.

Shadowheart

We know she is at least 40 years old (but not much older), and she doesn't look too old. It's subjective but to me she looks like a human late 20's, early 30's (I do think she looks older than Jaheira did in the first two games, but graphic quality and time does affect that). She's a half-elf, so that also checks out.

Recap so far:

Half-elves:

Live for about 180 years

40's: young and soft

150's: Mommy™

Elves:

Live for a long time (in game: at least 350 years, in DnD lore: about 700 years)

350's: Daddy™

Now onto the baby

Astarion

The information can be conflicting, so I'll try to break it down.

The tombstone

This is where it gets complicated because not only is it hard to read, but also is kind of contradictory.

It's written in the Thorass alphabet.

The initial dates are the easiest to read:

229 - 268 DR

Which would mean he was 39 years old when he died. Which a lot of people find it a bit hard to believe considering he looks much older, especially if you compare him to Shadowheart, who's not only older, but also only a half-elf.

I'll come back to it later.

What makes the tombstone complicated is the date Astarion adds. They are hard to read, the first one is barely readable and the numbers 5, 6, 7 and 9 can be easily mistaken for one another when it's someone who just had the most emotional moment of his life carving it in stone with a dagger.

The general consensus from what I've seen has been that it's 498 and that the dates on the tombstone are omitting the 1 (so the dates would actually be 1229, 1268 and 1498 DR), or that Larian made a mistake and should have made the dates in NR, not DR (which would bring the dates to 1261 and 1300 for his birth/death)

Both options have flaws because of the date Astarion writes should either read 492 (omitting the 1) or 460 (NR instead of DR). Neither are really plausible because the last number really doesn't look neither like a 2 or a 0.

The first option would also mean that Astarion died 230 years ago, which we know is not true. A lot of things in-game (not just Astarion) confirms it.

The second option would place his death 192 years ago, which is the most plausible.

But then how to explain the error in the date he adds?

Either he fucked up and doesn't know what year it is.

Or the first number is actually a 2, and he wrote 268, which is the year he died. We'll go with this one.

So, conclusion? Astarion was 39 years old when he died, 192 years ago, making him now 231 years old.

Physical appearance

Now, onto his look.

As mentioned earlier, Astarion doesn't look like he's younger than 40-something half-elf, so some people think the tombstone might be reading 129, giving him an extra 100 years at death, which would make more sense, but there is clearly more than just one dot on that first number, and there is a more plausible reason for him looking so old:

Vampire spawn appeared as they did in life, though their features were hardened and appeared predatory.

Source: Forgotten Realms Wiki

Add to that nearly 200 years of torture? That would make a man look a couple decades older.

And it's not really hard to imagine he was 39 years old at death when you see him, mostly post-Cazador, with softer expressions. (There is posts about it on here, sorry I can't link)

There is one last argument against this, which is the fact that elves reach "adulthood" at around 100 yeas old, and that Astarion already had a job and everything when he died.

But that's really easy to explain;

Elves physically reach adulthood at the same rate as humans, but their concept of adulthood is different, which is why "socially" they are considered adults only much later.

But also, this is socially, and socially, Astarion grew up in Baldur's Gate, a multi-cultural city, so he didn't grow up with elven mentality. Him having a job at 39 years old is very much plausible.

SO.

TL;DR:

Astarion was still pretty much a child when he died at 39 years old, 192 years ago.

#bg3 #astarion #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 talk #bg3 astarion #character analysis #astarion ancunin #idk about you but i find this even more tragic #someone else probably did this before but whatever #jaheira #halsin #shadowheart #sorry if there is errors I didn't proof read

[a-dragons-journal]

have you heard of KissingMidnight? back in the mythical community i used to hear bout her from time to time, a p-shifter who became a real mermaid. Now, I wonder... what do you think the true story was?

I hadn't heard of her by that name, but I'd seen the photos she posted as supposed "proof" of her shifted form. (Somebody posted a log of them here, for anyone who hasn't seen.)

The ironic thing is, blatantly faked "proof" like this (photos are grainy at best, especially the ones of "scales" where you can't really even see the supposed bumps she's talking about, and the tail is... obviously a fake? there's no life to that thing at all), as opposed to "that's a normal human thing that you are presenting as p-shifting" type proof, indicates to me that she was knowingly lying. If it was a photo of someone who genuinely believed what they were saying (which, at this degree of shifting, would have to be a hallucination, not just reading too much into normal human body things), we wouldn't be able to see the shift, because it wouldn't be physical.

There's a lot of reasons she might have lied about it, and I really can't speculate on it. She might have originally believed it and then not known how to back out when she realized it wasn't real and just doubled down instead. She might have been just a plain old troll, though it looks like she put an awful lot of effort into it for a troll. It doesn't look like she ever started up any groups, but it's possible she was partly looking to get power over people via claiming "secret knowledge" on an individual basis, since she did tell people to contact her directly according to that log. She might have just liked the attention. Who knows. I'd be curious to know her reasons, if anyone ever tracked her down, but I'm not going to spend too much time thinking about it.

#rani talks #asked and answered #anonymous #posts the grainiest color photo ive ever seen and calls it proof of having scales #ma'am those are legs with a few pixels gone weird #that could be anything up to and including bad photo editing #i'd bet that if you look around long enough you'll be able to find that exact tail she used somewhere #probably not for sale anymore but i am certain other people bought it and didn't try to sell it as p-shifting #i just don't care enough to put in the energy #reading through this she was a pretty clever liar and a pretty decent fake awful photos aside #does not surprise me that a lot of people fell for it #anyway #is that enough spacer tags? #i hope that's enough spacer tags. #p shifting

[feuqueerfire]

The Categories of Final Hallucinations

I noticed 2 types of visions that the characters had in the last episode, specifically in regards to Non

Non was front and center and the visions are about him

Phee: He kept continually seeing Non die in different ways, including some which were new and unseen ways. He's grieving Non's death and also feels guilty for what he's said (the "Get lost and die"). Phee was also the only person who understood that these were visions and Non wasn't real. Even in the 2 years later part (which may or may not be real - tbh I'm thinking of it as a continuation of the hallucinations in the courtyard), Phee sees Non walking into the water.

Tee: Non asks Tee to kill him with a knife on the rooftop because he’s so trapped while working for Tee’s uncle. Tee has been feeling guilty about his actions bringing Non into this world and ultimately being unable to get him out of the mess, so this manifests as a horrific way to help Non, though of course he ends up stabbing White in reality :’(

Tan: Non thanks him, then hangs himself, then thanks him again. Tan just wanted to be a good brother and in these hallucinations, after he has avenged Non, he finally is. His last vision is Non thanking him and walking into the light.

Non may or may not be there but it's mostly about their own situations/consequences/fears rather than Non

Fluke: Non is hardly there except at the end, Fluke's mostly being chased by a cop because he's deathly afraid of ruining his reputation and not getting to become a doctor. Aside: I loved that Fluke gouged his own eyes out, the eyes with which he was constantly witnessing the misbehavior against Non (Top breaking the camera, Jin taking the video) but keeping silent about

Top: He was just being chased by Non through the woods, very little depth because we hardly knew anything about him

White: he never knew Non and so his visions are about his relationship with Tee instead

Jin: I don't think Non even appeared in this but I'd have to double check. It was mostly about what if what Jin did to Non happened to Jin himself with him seeing people taking videos of him in compromising situations, including with Keng

For me, Tee's was the most shocking and horrifying because I was expecting death for Tee (especially after episode 11) but there was the vibe that maybe White is the final girl who will survive. Instead, my mouth fell open as soon as I realized what they were hinting at and I lost my mind as the sequence went on. One of the most unpredictable aspects of this whole show for me and it really is tearing me up, esp after ep 11.

Tan's and Phee's are the most tragic. I didn't cry at all during this show but for a second there, during Tan's visions, I became misty-eyed. (also I've been typing Tan as Non and having to correct... I think NewTan would like that tbh)

I think Jin's was the most disappointing to me because although he knows his actions to release that video were wrong and likely feels guilty, I was hoping Non would at least make an appearance? When Jin apologized to Non the day Non disappeared, Non didn't know what he was apologizing for and said Jin didn't have to apologize. I wanted Jin to apologize to Non while admitting to his wrongdoings, even if it's in hallucinations. Instead, it's Jin being paranoid about what he did to Non being done to him.

[Edited because the Tee/White scene did a whole number on me so I got a bit confused about their visions when I first posted this right after watching the ep]

#dead friend forever #dead friend forever the series #dff #feu rambles #haven't written an actual post (not just live blogging) that's this long in quite a while omg #didn't proof-read it's just all my thoughts dumped out #ep 12 #analysis #also this was an interesting post to make because non is not the character i love most or even really think about #like he's really beloved in this fandom but he's not a draw for me there are characters and storylines i like more #but in this instant i think how much these characters' last visions centered around non said something about them

[thelastsirenssong]

Thoughts on returning from a hero gala with Bakugou?

The evening was full of shouts and guffaws, pats on his back, hands that shook his in congratulations, and silent challenge, that those hands may surpass him in the future, while he smiled on. Invigorated, by the promise of getting to stand over them once again in the years to come. But as the night went on things died down, and like a true hero Deku was the last to leave, helping staff pick up after the event, and Bakugou, like a true rival, insisted on helping better than him, as a soft drizzle began outside, so that when you said your goodbyes and entered the valet car, the moon was full, and the rain mild, as you drove home, your head on his chest, his hand tangled in yours. The weather in Japan tends to turn cold with a bright and rising sun, ever characteristic of the country. But today it made the leap with cloud and distant thunder, and you tuck yourself further into his chest as you drive through the glistening city.

"You cold?" He grunts the question into your ear, and you shrug, even in the heating of the vehicle and your shivering, and he grunts again and pushes you gently off of him as you protest lightly with a soft whine.

"Aw shut the hell up, it's just for a sec." And it is, you are separated from him for just a moment as he makes quick work of his grey suit jacket, throwing it over your shoulders and scowling as he adjusts it, tugging the lapels over your chest.

"Feel better?" You look into his eyes, scarlet gone wine dark in the frigid evening storm, and his focus on you is something unfamiliar, something that reads like a rough draft of a story you already know the ending to, and you squirm, and avert your gaze, uncomfortable under the intensity.

"I guess," you mutter, and he scoffs a laugh, pulling your head back into him as you sigh, and he places his chin gently over you.

"Next time remind me not to give it to you, ungrateful ass." He's smiling, you feel it in his thumb, where it needles gently at the back of your hand.

"You have a good time?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Was proud to see you up there."

"You fuckin' better be."

"And to see you help clean up, after the fact."

"Was just beating Deku to it."

You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back, drawing himself closer to you, impossibly. You feel his quickened heartbeat in the grip he has on you, and you squeeze his hand again, to reassure, but his grip stays just as tight.

"Listen."

You hum in question, and you feel it, whatever nitroglycerin like substance produced by his palms stains your own fingerprints. He's breaking out into a sweat, in the frigid early winter air.

"Katsuki?"

A million lights twinkle, they all pass in a blinding blur, as the rain turns to sleet.

"Don't ever let me get soft, you hear me? 'M never not gonna be at the top, so don't let me fucking slack."

You laugh, something soft, and bright, and true. "You'll always be number one to me, Katsuki, slacking or not."

"Not the fucking point." His eyes read of nonfiction, and of fairytale, combined impossibility in the truth of his unwavering gaze. Confidence, that denotes raw honestly. He will never leave you- and he begs this silent, desperate plea: that in this car, and in the words unsaid inbetween puffed breath, you make and honor the same vow. You run your thumb over the back of his hand, and it grows hotter.

"Okay."

The sleet falls, miserable and cold, and his coat keeps you warm, while your ear to his chest does the same for his heart.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bro..... bro #< .siren under a queue moon 🌙. > #like. like. he said. forever. but. he didn't. u kno. he does that #I feel like he DOES say it eventually but he like to say things without saying them first as a test run LMAO #he's scared!!!! #not proof read WE DIE LIKE MEN!!!!