#hopefully it suffices. anyway

[marshmellowtea]

i’ve had this idea stuck in my head for ages and finally i’ve written it?? that never happens omg 

anyway idk how to intro this hgkdjsgf. it’s a fic about y/n giving actor a stuffed pink poodle, which is based off of one i found on mercari that i bought, like, immediately lmao. visual reference here if you want it. also, this fic contains age regression because i love little!actor more than life (though he doesn’t know that he’s regressing yet, y/n still has to have that conversation with him lmao), so if that bothers you feel free to skip over this. other warnings include allusions to actor having gender issues, references to mental health issues, and implied disordered eating, because i love giving this man Problems <3 if there’s anything else i need to warn for lemme know! 

i think that’s all for housekeeping. i’ll probably throw this fic on my alt ao3 tomorrow, and i’ll put the link to it in a reblog when i post it. :) 

(also, @electronic-melody, idk if you still want me to tag you in my little actor stuff, but here it is if you do ghlkdsjf <3) 

The thing sits in his bed, taunting him.

Mark glowers at the stuffed pink poodle on his bed, its slight smile with its tongue poking out almost feeling like it’s mocking him. There’s little black ribbons tied to its ears and a plain black collar around its neck, making it look especially cutesy and feminine, and he doesn’t know why that makes his stomach flip more, but it does.

He snarls, scooping the thing into his hands. As he does so, a familiar scent wafts up into his nose, which nearly gives him pause. However, he refuses to let himself be deterred, and he tightens his resolve and brings the thing downstairs, determined to get to the bottom of why it’s here.

There’s only one person who could’ve done this, and that’s you. Your scent is all over the damn thing, both literally and metaphorically.

He finds you in the kitchen, leaning over a recipe book. His stomach churns a little as he notices the recipe—looks like calorie-filled cheese stuffed pasta shells, sometimes he swears you’re conspiring to make him put on weight—but he doesn’t let that distract him from why he’s here. Even though it makes him feel like a petulant child, he finds himself pouting as he tugs on your shirt, shoving the plush in your face as soon as you turn around.

“What the hell is this?!” he demands, stomping his foot a little.

Your face breaks into a smile, and you have to fight back the urge to laugh at him while he stares you down in sulky disbelief. “Well, hello to you too,” you say, turning around and leaning back against the counter. “I see you found your new friend.”

His face contorts in confusion, and he turns the stuffed animal around in his hands to look it in the face. “My new what?”

“Your new friend,” you say, an indulgent expression on your face. “I got em for you cuz I figured you could use a buddy when I’m gone.”

Mark looks up at you, his face somewhere between confused and disgusted. “And why would you think that?”

You snort, your hands going to rest in your pockets. “Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but you tend to get separation anxiety when I’m gone, and I thought it would be nice—”

“I do not!”

The protest is immediate and indignant. Mark scowls at you, the stuffed animal he’s so thoroughly offended by now clutched right to his chest, and though you know you shouldn’t, you can’t help but find the sight incredibly endearing. You laugh lightly, reaching out and putting one of your hands over his arm, giving it a light squeeze.

“The texts you spam me with tell a different story, love,” you say with fondness, dropping your hand from his bicep. “I just figured you can use a buddy. It might make you feel less, er. Lonely.” You swallow, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. You rub the back of your neck as you sheepishly admit, “I actually, uh. Slept with it a couple nights. So it would smell like me. I thought you might like that.”

Mark frowns, once again lifting up the poodle so he can stare at it pensively. He swallows thickly, his expression turning suspicious as he looks back up at you.

“This isn’t…you’re not trying to make fun of me, are you?” he asks, his voice going a bit thick.

Your heart drops into your stomach, and you shake your head quickly, reaching over and rubbing his arm again. “No, honey, no, of course not,” you soothe, feeling a little guilty for your flippant responses before. “Did you think I was?”

Mark shrugs, his thumbnail finding its way into his mouth. “I dunno,” he mumbles, a fragile quality to his voice. “It’s just so…girly. And babyish.”

“Oh…I thought you liked…” You pause, reconsidering your words. “I’m sorry. Lately you seem to be exploring being more feminine and I…well, it’s pretty, isn’t it? I thought you might like that.”

Mark nods slowly, the tip of his thumb still in his mouth. “She is pretty,” he mumbles, his face flushing with his agreement. “Did she—she come with the ribbons?”

“I gave them to her,” you say, lifting your hand from Mark’s arm to once again rub at the back of your neck. “And I gave her the collar too. Thought she’d like having something nice to wear.”

You decide not to mention the switch from it to she for the stuffy, not wanting to make him self conscious by making a big deal out of it, but you can’t help the small smile that flickers onto your face at the sound of it. You cross your arms over your chest and watch as Mark studies the plush again, your heart softening more and more as he inspects it.

“‘s still babyish,” he mumbles, his voice going up in pitch. You bite back the urge to point out the irony.

“Eh, not really. I have stuffed animals too, do you think I’m babyish?”

“That’s different,” Mark mumbles, his cheeks flushing more. “They’re not—it’s not—they’re not supposed’ta be your friends.”

“Hey, who says they’re not my friends?” you protest, throwing a hand to your chest in mock offense. “They’re some of my closest friends, in fact. How dare you assume they’re not.”

Mark giggles a little at your performance, which, score, that’s exactly what you wanted. He doesn’t move his eyes from the poodle, however, and his expression soon falls again. He swallows visibly, his lip quivering a little, and you step forward to pull him into a loose embrace.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” you soothe, running your hands up and down his back. “You don’t have to keep her if you don’t want to, I won’t make ya. I got her cuz I wanted to make you feel better, but if she makes you feel worse, then I can always find another home for her.”

Mark sniffles a little, his forehead pressed against your chest. “I don’—don’ think I want you t’get rid of her,” he mumbles, the admission soft and full of hesitance. “I just…um…it’s…”

You stay quiet, letting him gather his thoughts. He sniffles a bit, cuddling further into your chest, and your heart aches at how childlike and fragile he seems. He gets like this sometimes—usually when he’s tired or upset, or feeling particularly needy. You won’t tell him this, but these moments where he seems so young actually are part of the reason you decided to get him a stuffed animal. You have some…suspicions about what’s happening in his head right now, suspicions you’ve formed after plenty of research on the internet, but you still haven’t figured out a way to broach the subject. You get the feeling that if you try to get Mark to talk about his moments of regression, he’ll get upset and end up shutting down on you. Case in point: his reaction to you giving him the stuffed poodle.

Perhaps you should’ve thought your plan through more, but you’ll have time to beat yourself about it later. Mark still hasn’t spoken up, and your stomach is starting to ache with hunger pains, so you give him a small squeeze and a kiss on the head before taking a small step back.

“It’s okay, sweet pea,” you say gently, keeping your hands on Mark’s shoulders and rubbing them lightly. “We can talk more after dinner, okay? Get you some food and some time to think. Doesn’t that sound nice?” 

Mark sniffs, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Mm...o-okay,” he says quietly, one of his hands fiddling with the poodle’s ears.

You smile softly and give him another kiss, this time on his forehead. “Some food will do you good,” you say, letting your hands drop in front of you. “Do you wanna help me in the kitchen? I can use someone who can help me stir…”

Your voice goes up at the end, trying to entice him. Mark is quiet for another long moment, before he nods, shifting a little in place.

“Mm…won’t have’ta chop anything, right?”

You laugh lightly, shaking your head a bit. “Nope, no chopping this time, I promise. There’ll be no chance of hurting your cute little fingers this time.”

Mark ducks his head and pouts, his face going pink. “Shush,” he grumbles, kicking his feet a little. He squeezes the stuffy tightly, before holding her at arms length, his brow furrowing a bit. “‘m gonna set her down…don’t want her t’get dirty.”

Despite the certainty of his tone, he looks up at you questioningly, waiting for your approval. You smile reassuringly at him, nodding your head slightly.

“That sounds like a plan, baby. Go ahead and find someplace to put her, and I’ll grab out the ingredients, okay?”

Mark gives you a small smile, and he nods, running out of the room without a verbal response. It feels very toddler like, and you let out a small laugh, turning back to the recipe to figure out what all you’ll need.

You’ll have to talk to him about his childlike headspace…eventually. For now, you turn your focus to searching through your cabinets for the giant pasta shells you know you just bought, ready to get started on dinner as soon as possible.

-

Preparing the pasta goes smoother than expected, Mark uncharacteristically helpful during the process. Normally, he tends to wander off when he’s supposed to be helping, or doesn’t listen to your instructions and ends up doing something wrong or getting hurt, but today he was actually attentive to your instructions, which was nice. He’s also unusually docile, almost disturbingly so, and that does worry you a little. You choose not to make a comment on it, though, figuring that he’s just thinking about the stuffy dilemma. 

Still, you’re proud of the work you both did, and the dish came out pretty good, considering it’s the first time you made it. You’re almost finished with your plate by the time Mark speaks up again, your hunger taking over the minute you took your first bite.

“I think ‘m gonna call her Rosé.”

You lift your head at the sound of Mark’s voice, your brow furrowed. “Who?” you ask dumbly, before realization hits you, your eyes widening. “Oh! Oh, your poodle?”

Mark smiles shyly, pushing his food around on his plate. He still has half of what you gave him left, and you already know he’s not going to eat much more. You fight back the urge to make a comment on it, not wanting to make him feel insecure, even if how little he eats sometimes worries you.

“She’s pink, ‘nd it’s a pretty name, so…Rosé,” he says, his eyes dropping to his plate. He frowns briefly, cutting up one of his shells with his fork. “Fits her.”

“It does,” you agree, your lips widening into a delighted smile. “It fits her very well. I guess you���re going to keep her, then?”

Mark nods, wiggling in place a little, a shy grin on his lips. Your smile widens, and you tilt your cheek into your palm, adoration practically radiating off of you.

“That makes me happy,” you say truthfully, unable to hold back the delight in your voice. “I think you two are gonna get along swimmingly. I got her cuz she seems like a sassy little thing, just like you.” 

“‘m not sassy!” Mark protests, but the smile hasn’t left his face.

“Ohoho, yes you are,” you say, reaching over and poking his side in a particularly ticklish spot. “I can’t count how many times you’ve sassed me in just this week alone.”

Mark giggles, squirming away from you. “Stop! No tickling!” he cries, his cheeks turning a dusty pink. He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest in a pout, and you can’t help but laugh at how cute he looks.

“You’re fucking adorable, you know that?” you ask, tilting your cheek into the palm of your hand.

Mark’s face flushes deeper, and he uncrosses his arms, fiddling with his fork a little. After a moment, though, he suddenly puts his fork down and gets to his feet. You raise your eyebrows as you look at him curiously, and he shifts from foot to foot, looking a bit shy. “I wanna…wanna go get her. If ‘s okay.”

“Oh. Yeah, of course, baby,” you say, leaning over to look at his plate. “Are you gonna…are you gonna finish this, or should I put the rest of this away for you?”

“Um…yeah. Put it away,” he says, fidgeting even more. He ducks his head, looking uncomfortable. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. We can always reheat it later,” you say reassuringly, getting to your feet. “I’ll go get some Tupperware, darling, you just let me know if you want it again later tonight. Alright?”

Mark gives you a tiny smile, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. “Mmkay. Thank you.” He pauses, before leaning over and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Thank you,” he repeats, before running off toward the living room.

You huff out a laugh, fondness swelling up in your chest. You take a minute to finish off the rest of your own plate (you only had a few bites left, so you figured you might as well), before scooping up both plates and taking them into the kitchen. You put your plate into the sink and set Mark’s plate on the counter, ducking down to the cabinets underneath to grab a little plastic container to put his leftovers in.

It doesn’t take too long to get it put away, and as soon as you’re done, you head out to the living room to join Mark and his new pal, since apparently he decided not to rejoin you in the dining room. You find the two of them curled up against the arm of the couch, Rosé tucked into Mark’s arms and some period drama you don’t recognize playing softly on tv.

You approach slowly, carefully sitting down next to him. He turns to you when he feels your presence, and he smiles widely at you, scooting into your side. You smile back at him, wrapping an arm around him and holding him close.

“Hi honey,” you coo, something fuzzy and protective swelling up in you as he leans into you with a contented hum. “What’re we watching?”

“Mm, dunno, just put it on,” he mumbles, his fingers playing with one of Rosé’s ears. He tucks his head onto your shoulder, trying to get as physically close to you as possible, just like he always does.

“Hmm, okay,” you say, tilting your head to lean your cheek against his head. You rub your thumb idly against Mark’s side, feeling him relax further and further into you, and you wonder if he’s on his way to a nap. You don’t mind if he does—his weight is comfortable and warm against your side, and the pasta in your stomach has you feeling pleasantly full, so you might drift off a bit yourself.

There’s a long moment of quiet, and for a second, you think maybe he has fallen asleep. But then, he shifts again, lifting his head off of your shoulder to look you in the face.

“Hey, um,” he starts, biting his lip and squirming a little, pressing up against your side. “I really do like her. Thank you.”

Well, doesn’t that just warm your heart. You smile gently at him, tapping him lightly on his nose. “You’re welcome, honey, I’m so glad you do,” you say softly, brushing a stray strand of hair off of his forehead. “I just want to make you happy. You know that?”

Mark huffs, burying his face back in the side of your neck. “Yeahhh…I know…” he mumbles. “You’re mean sometimes though.”

You can practically feel the pout against your skin. You smile, raking your fingers through his hair. “Well, you know I can’t resist teasing you occasionally. But I’m not trying to really hurt your feelings, okay? I promise. You can always tell me if I go too far and make you actually upset.”

Mark nods against the crook of your neck. You play with a few strands of his hair, wrapping them around your fingers, debating whether or not to bring up the whole regression thing. He seems so content, though, curled up against you like this, and you don’t wanna ruin it by making him feel confused and defensive. Besides, you should probably first figure out what you’re going to say before you approach him about it anyway.

You close your eyes, wrapping your arms around him tightly. The soft sound of the television in the background and Mark’s quiet breathing make for soothing ambiance, making a quick after dinner nap feel more and more appealing. It’s not like you guys have anywhere to go, after all, so there’s no reason not to give in to your sleepiness. 

“We sleep?”

Mark’s tiny voice breaks through the quiet, muffled against your shoulder. You chuckle softly, your heart melting a little at how sweet he sounds, and nod slightly against the top of his head.

“Sure looks like it, baby. That okay?”

Mark nods, one of his hands ending up entangled in the fabric of your shirt. You smile, kissing the top of his head before grabbing a blanket bunched up on the cushion next to you, draping it over the both of you.

“There ya go. Are you cozy?”

Mark mumbles his assent, nuzzling further into you. His mutter of “Ro’s comfy too,” is just barely audible, and you’re so glad you caught it cuz god that’s fucking adorable.

“That’s good to hear,” you croon, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Love you, bugaboo. Sleep well.”

Mark mumbles something that sounds like Love you too in response, and it’s not long until he’s snoring lightly, a sure sign that he’s now out like a light.

He’s probably going to drool on your shoulder. He usually does when you two fall asleep together. Luckily, you don’t really mind that much, and you shift a little to get more comfortable, careful not to jostle him too much lest you accidentally wake him. Once you’re settled, you let your head rest on the top of Mark’s, resting your cheek against his fluffy curls.

It doesn’t take long for you to drift off like that, falling into a contented, dreamless sleep. There will be things to stress about later, you’re sure of that, but for now, both of you are safe and warm curled up together, and really, that’s more than you could possibly ask for. 

#who killed markiplier #actor mark #y/n the district attorney #agere #marshy writes #i haven't posted a fic on tumblr for a while so i was winging writing that intro so very hard lmao #hopefully it suffices. anyway #this is like the fastest i've ever gotten a fic out i think at least in recent memory i wrote this in like two daze with the help of a lot o #f caffeine. hopefully it's okay in spite of that hgkdlJFLDS #i feel like i should put a title on this thing but i don't have a good one in mind so whatever i'll wait to struggle with that when i #put this on ao3 #god okay i need to shut up now LMAO

[sneez]

the other day i was looking through the drawings on my old laptop and found this self-portrait art challenge thing i did at some point several years ago, so i thought it would be interesting to update it with my current self for old times' sake :-) i don't know why i felt the need to be so mean to myself in all the descriptions but i have tried to be at least slightly nicer this time around. sorry past me [id under cut]

[id: a series of four full-body digital drawings of a pale-skinned person at different ages. the first three depict me in 2007, 2013, and 2017 under the heading 'George'; the fourth, in a different art style, depicts me in 2023 under the heading 'Ned (I changed my name)'.

the first drawing shows a young child with long hair wearing a fluffy pink jumper, a pink skirt, and pink shoes. bullet points above read:

annoying

copies other people constantly

draws cute animals

arrogant

cries when told off

maybe 1 friend

the second drawing shows a young teenager wearing a hoodie and trainers and looking uncomfortable. bullet points above read:

anxious

listens to Simon and Garfunkel exclusively

bad under pressure

anime

writes bad fanfiction

draws bad fanart

the third drawing shows a smiling teenager wearing a plaid shirt, jeans, and brown boots. bullet points above read:

what the HELL is a Self Esteem

really into 60s music

cries a lot

0 fashion sense

usually dissociating

thinkin about trees

the fourth drawing shows a young man with messy brown hair, a striped brown shirt, a beige woollen tank top, and burgundy plaid trousers; he is leaning on a wood-textured folding cane and holding the strap of a brown leather satchel with his other hand. bullet points above read:

still no self-esteem but medicated now

significantly worse handwriting (wrist knackered)

I haven't changed much to be honest

RBF so severe I get followed around by the security guards at the supermarket

autism

end id.]

#artwork #two posts in two days what is happening to me. ive been possessed #i think i did a decent job at capturing my likeness this time around :-) i doubt i'll ever post another picture of myself here (sorry i am #a nervous creature now) so hopefully this will suffice. i kind of look like [gestures] #i really like patterns. and stripes especially. also brown. if you couldnt tell #i am actually doing much better recently! i had what i think in retrospect was a nervous breakdown a few weeks ago but i am ok now. all gud #it was very contextual i had just got myself into a very stressful situation and basically just self-destructed for a few days until it was #resolved. the resolution was very satisfactory though so im mostly back to normal now #also i started taking antidepressants a couple of months ago and i think they have finally started working so i am in a much better place #than i have been for a while :-) yippee! #it's pretty neat to see how much my art style has changed too. i love using gouachey watercoloury brushes these days #anyway i hope you are all doing well my friends! it is my birthday tomorrow im going to be 8 million years old

[eighthwholove]

I don't know what to call this post (because I am running out of ideas, ahhh!!!) but I do hope this will brighten your McGann Monday!

#I need to start brainstorming haha #but this will suffice #hopefully #:) #it is paul after all #so it will work out anyways #lovely man never takes a bad photo #sigh #i have no idea where some of these are from XD #oh well #eighth doctor #grace holloway #doctor who the tv movie #paul mcgann #mcgann monday

[ladyimaginarium]

%100 understandable if you don't have the energy or desire to answer this genuinely no pressure here

But I was wondering if you had anything you wanted to talk about in terms of anti native racism in the plural community, if there's anything you could get non-natives to internalize what would that be etc that kinda thing

hellooooo sweetling, thank you for asking !! :3 I& hope you don't mind me& answering, we've& been quite switchy lately !! Now… sit down and listen up, nonnatives, especially you, white settlers, class is in session !!

I. Don't name yourselves after our spirits and/or our nations !! I& cannot express enough how infuriating this is !! There was a time when we& had to deliberately tell a white bodied system to change their alter's name from W**dig* to something else, not just for their safety, but ours& as a Native bodied system !! W **dig*ag are NOT spirits to mess with, let alone to use as a name if you're nonnative, especially if you are a white settler !! These are Algonquian and Anishinaabe sacred spirits, and, no, sacred does not always mean good, and quite frankly, to use our sacred religious figures or any of our nations as your name is cultural appropriation !! And, no, your "w*ndig*" headmate is likely not a w*ndig* at all, it's not a deer creature !! It's very insensitive, our cultures, practices and religions have already been stretched far and thin over the years to the point where we have been imprisoned or murdered for practicing them in the past until only a few decades ago, so be respectful !! Don't be a loser !! 🖤🖤🖤🖤 II. Native bodied systems don't care about your white guilt !! Listen... we& know most people's intentions are well, but at this point, we& don't care, we've& often been forced to listen to white people whine and bitch about how sorry they are, how bad they feel about the way their ancestors treated ours, and will often overstep their boundaries and their place when speaking with us& !! Yes, we& want you to acknowledge who's land you're on, yes, we& want nonnative, especially white settler allies, to be there with us and uplift our voices, but don't speak over us, you're not solving anything by venting to us&, a Native bodied system, about your ancestors' guilt, if you are white. We're& not here to hold your hand, we& won't coddle your feelings, we& won't give you a cookie for expressing and doing the bare minimum and be your palatable native system !! III. Having an exoethnic Native headmate doesn't make your body Native !! I& don't know how else to say this ... simply because you have an exoethnic Native headmate doesn't make your body Native and as such that doesn't give you the right to speak our languages, practice our medicines or call yourself Two Spirit if you are nonnative, especially if you're white bodied !! If you're a system of color and you want to learn our languages, depending on what the language is because some languages are exclusive only to members of that nation, even to other natives, we'd& be more flattered, but if you're a white bodied system who has an exoethnic Native headmate and think that automatically gives you the right to come into our spaces and learn our languages and ceremonies?? Think again !! :3 There are teachings by our& elders and knowledge keepers from different nations that we& are literally forbidden from sharing with nonnatives !! I& understand how frustrating this can be, but respect is essential !! IV. White bodied and nonnative systems of color are not immune to antinative racism and Native erasure in plural spaces !! Native bodied systems, let alone Native singlets, aren't often included in the table on how to make things better in our spaces and are treated like an afterthought even on our own lands !! This happens so often that this led to the term called Native erasure which is extremely common in the media, even in POC spaces !! Don't demand we do your homework for you. Don't hesitate to check up on your Native friends !! V. Our cultures are not homogenous and there is no one "Native look"!! I& don't want to repeat ourselves& but our cultures and peoples are so unique, special and distinct from each other !! We can have any skintone, any hair type, any eye color, we can look like anything !! — 🖤 / Bellatrix& / Beretta&, she/her.

#written in blood. #🖤.txt #there's likely more i& can talk about but i'm& rather exhausted so hopefully this'll suffice !! :3 #anyway please don't reblog !!

[comraderoscoes]

lotta jumbled up thoughts abt the way this team is acting towards lewis’ success this season and none of them are good

#really hated the way they acted in aus after his podium and the way they kept saying they could’ve won the race . fucking do it then #silverstone there was so much talk about his safety car luck as if he literally didn’t go thru abu dhabi 🤡 #and now this weekend which like #it would literally be sooo easy to fix this pr disaster. #like post a podium pic? post him being p3 or gaining another record breaking podium? something ? anything #or write a tweet explaining why the team weren’t at the podium (if yk there’s a proper explanation lol). like it doesn’t even need to be a #statement ? just a tweet would suffice #what are they doing 😭😭😭 #if it’s bc of the DNF then surely that’s doing a disservice to gr and also is in such stark contrast to their response to zandvoort #anyway hm. the continued silence is irking me like it’s one thing to mess up ur sm strategy after the race and not show up for the podium #it’s another thing to carry on the day after 😭 #and tbh like . there are weekends when you have to squint to see gr on their sm so i think the team is pretty poor as a whole #but this weekend has felt inc disrespectful to lewis #then what shov said …. ew!! #ANYWAY . thoughts spilled out . now repress #i hope they step their act up. if i’m being generous to them i’d say hopefully it’s bc of the standard lewis / merc set themselves to and #mb podiums don’t mean that much given that they want a wdc #but fuck that celebrate him #and also … idk if i believe that LOL

[shopcat]

anyway. put tacks up to hang charms off of and jammed a bigger nail in my bed for my headphones so Yay. as i was typing this i realised the vulpix also has a loop on his head this rules

#not that i have any charms but i could #<- #🐾 #no some of the blind boxes i'm getting come w charms so hopefully they'll be cute i'll probably hang them up anyway #and CLAIRE ! s lopunny will suffice for now #🐈‍⬛

[rubyiiiusions]

i wonder how the sun feels when it falls // sonknux

word count 2489 - ao3 link

summary:

For his entire life, Knuckles had been alone. It was his fate-he was the last echidna, after all, and he enjoyed his solitary lifestyle, but…

It hurt, sometimes. And, in his typical fashion, Sonic was always there to help alleviate that age-old pain, words light and airy, smile carefree as the wind, breathless and sweaty as they fought in the light of the moon, and afterward picking blueberries and tossing them at each other, building a campfire and making s’mores, laughing at the stickiness of a melted marshmallow stuck in blue quills.

enjoy,,, theyre freaks <3

-

Knuckles could barely remember a time when he didn’t love Sonic. 

He’d loved him for as long as he knew what the word meant, and in every sense of it–they were rivals, friends, and somehow so, so much more. From the very beginning, the blue hedgehog had been different; the first of his enemies that actually put up a fight, that threatened his way of living first by shattering his world and then by rebuilding it, sweeping him into a whirlwind of taunts and laughter and too-warm smiles. Sonic got on his nerves in the best way possible, giving him an outlet for everything he struggled to express in words, a punching bag that fought back. He was infuriatingly stubborn–he never gave up, never left, not even after Knuckles got tricked and fought against him for the umpteenth time. It was a dance they’d perfected, stubbornly insisting on getting in each other’s way just to hear the other’s infuriated scoff, to feel the rush of battle as they sparred with words and fists, genuine smiles. 

For his entire life, Knuckles had been alone. It was his fate-he was the last echidna, after all, and he enjoyed his solitary lifestyle, but…

It hurt, sometimes. And, in his typical fashion, Sonic was always there to help alleviate that age-old pain, words light and airy, smile carefree as the wind, breathless and sweaty as they fought in the light of the moon, and afterward picking blueberries and tossing them at each other, building a campfire and making s’mores, laughing at the stickiness of a melted marshmallow stuck in blue quills. Sonic fell asleep curled next to Knuckles, and carefully a bulky hand snaked around his shoulders, pulling him closer, leaning into each other. He wasn’t built to handle delicate things, and while Sonic was usually anything but, now…

He trusted Knuckles. He was vulnerable around him, even after everything they’d been through. Knuckles swallowed, realizing that without noticing, he’d let his defenses down, too. 

He was terrible at reading body language. It was a language he didn’t speak, could barely understand, let alone translate. But even he noticed the way Sonic stumbled around Ares island, limping and smiling, a hand flickering with cyber-corruption. The moon was high above, mirroring the crescent on Knuckles’ chest. He wondered how many sleepless nights he’d had. Less than Sonic, for sure. 

A flicker. He yelped, spinning around, and there she was–that mysterious girl that had trapped him, reduced him to this. He let out a low growl, but she was floating out of reach, and Sonic still insisted that he shouldn’t fight her. Reluctantly, he lowered his fists, eyeing her warily.

“You care for him,” she noted, gazing at the blue hedgehog in the distance, sparring with one of the many robots littering the desert island. “Why?”

“What do you mean?” Knuckles scoffed. “He’s my friend. Of course I care about him.” 

“You argue,” she pointed out, still staring at Sonic’s figure, illuminated in the moonlight. “You don’t see eye to eye, you fight constantly. You claim that you’re friends, yet there’s this odd tension between you. It’s perplexing.”

“Yeah, we’re rivals. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, too.” Knuckles followed her gaze. A laugh found his ears, carried by the wind. “He annoys me, but I admire him. He’s strong, fast… he’s saved me more times than I can count.” He let out a small laugh. “And he depends on me, too. He’d never admit it, but he’d be lost without me.”

The girl hummed. “He’s a confusing specimen, isn’t he? Almost a shame that he has to die.”

Knuckles snorted. “You can try to kill him. I have too. He’s not going to lose. No matter what. I know him.”

He turned back and she was gone. Letting out a sigh, he vanished and flickered back into existence next to Sonic. Somehow, looking at his drooping eyelids, his words and faith in his rival seemed unfounded. 

“It’s dark,” he commented, not knowing quite what to say. “You seem tired.” 

Sonic brushed him off, waving a hand. “Psh. I’m fine, Knux. If anything, you seem like you’re struggling to keep up. Did I wear you out?” he teased, instinctively elbowing him. His arm fizzled through flesh, flickering in and out of existence, a constant reminder of the predicament they were in, the state Knuckles trusted Sonic with his life to help him escape. 

“Hardly,” he snorted. “But I’m not sure I trust you to take down that titan while you look like you’re about to collapse.” 

“Please.” Sonic yawned. “I could take that hunk of junk down in my sleep. ”

“It almost blew you up yesterday.”

“That’s beside the point.”

“I–” Knuckles bit back his concern, turning away. “Fine. Just… be careful, ok?”

“Please.” Sonic laughed, far too strained. “Careful? Where’s the fun in that?”

-

He was limp, frozen in place, flickering and corrupted. Knuckles mirrored him, trembling at the sight. Amy let out a cry, running to Sonic, and he tried to force himself to do the same but he couldn’t move , paralyzed by shock, dread, the world spinning so much he barely noticed the ground that felt solid at his feet. 

“What happened to him?” He asked, head spinning, and this all felt like a scene from one of those horror movies Rouge loved to watch with him, something that couldn’t be real, there was no way, but there Sonic was, paralyzed, grinning, ever upbeat, the spitting image of the optimistic hero, the light of hope, snuffed out. 

“He took on so much cyber energy,” Tails’ voice was soft, miserable, almost shrouded in disbelief. “It… it corrupted him.”

“Meaning?” His ears were ringing. 

“He’s stuck between realities. He’s in limbo. He… he lost.” 

No. There was a lump in his throat, forcing its way out in the form of a tiny, choked cry, finally finding the strength to stumble forward. It was all blurry except for him, a frozen statue, eyes open, flesh blackened and flickering that vile red, corrupted through and through, and, of course, the small, pained grin on his face. His hand found a once-blue shoulder and didn’t pass through it. He forced back a sob. He can’t be dead. He can’t–

He didn’t lose. There’s no way.

Eggman was cackling(he was here, of course he was here), but it was faint background noise, deafened by the ringing in his ears, and Sonic wasn’t breathing, Chaos, he wasn’t breathing – 

“Wake up,” he breathed, barely audible, shaking Sonic’s shoulders, and he was stone-cold. “Please. You have to wake up. You can’t--” 

A rumble, booming ominously in the distance, shaking the very ground below his feet. Knuckles pulled away, jolted back to reality, looking around frantically. Whoever did this to him is going to pay, he thought, grim. His light of hope had been snuffed out, but what could he do except fight on? It was all he knew how to do anyway. Hope was a weak drug compared to vengeance. 

“Since time immemorial I have languished here. Now, the locks are broken. I shall tear down the walls between dimensions and consume all.”

Knuckles growled, clenching his fists and stepping forward, mouth parting to shout his defiance to the stars, standing between it and the fallen celestial next to him. Eggman was panicking, shouting something about mobilizing the Egg Fleet, but it was helpless. If Sonic had lost, what chance did any of them have of winning? A broken record of his own hopeless concerns, data backing up the inevitable conclusion, the girl he’d seen earlier gripped Eggman’s shoulder, shaking it frantically, eyes flicking from Knuckles to Sonic to the sky and back again. “It won’t be enough! It triumphed over the Ancients’ technology! My simulations show a success rate of zero percent!” 

Of course, Knuckles thought, grim, blood running cold, turning back to look at Sonic again. His eyes were no longer green, consumed by that sickening, flickering, lifeless red. He stepped back, still in disbelief, looking down at his now-solid hands. He sacrificed himself for us. You selfless idiot. 

“No!” Tails’ voice cut through the daze, drawing his eyes to him. His face, screwed in determination despite the tears brimming in his eyes, somehow mirrored his brother’s in a way that tore and shredded at Knuckles’ heart, tugging at his heartstrings. Things will never be the same again, will they? “Sonic worked too hard for us to give up now. Those visions we saw… we can drive back the corruption and bring him back!”

Knuckles inhaled, gaze traveling from his hands, no longer flickering, to the corrupted hero. Of course. When he freed me, the energy keeping me prisoner went into him. A small, sad smile found its way to his muzzle. We’ll see who’s self-sacrificing now, you bastard. You’ve saved me time and time again, it’s time to return the favor. 

His hand found Tails’, Amy grasping his other fist as if her life depended on it. Her voice was shaky, full of emotion that Knuckles wished he knew how to express. “Sonic, you still have love to share with this world, too!”

“Sonic, I want you to see the hero I become!” Tails cried, squeezing Knuckles’ hand tightly. The world was beginning to hum, echoing in his ears. He stepped closer to his friend--no, so much more, that warmth in his chest, that faded from enemies to rivals to friends to whatever they had been, could be if this only worked. He supposed that he could call that love. Whatever it takes. 

“Sonic.” His voice was far shakier than he would have liked. “We’re even after this, ha!” 

And everything flickered to black. 

-

 “You look tired,” Sonic commented, pushing through the brush as he followed Knuckles through his island. Knuckles snorted, laden with something… more. “You’re one to talk.” 

“Nah.” Sonic shrugged, and though Knuckles was unsure if his grin was real or not, it still made his heart shiver and pound in his chest. “I’m more awake than ever after punching through that planet. Eclipse cannon who, am I right? At least I finished the job.” 

Both paused, a bitter taste spreading across Knuckles’ tongue. It wasn’t just Sonic that had sacrificed in the face of the End. The girl–no, her name was Sage –had given everything she never had and something more. 

“Hey,” Sonic murmured, breaking the silence, leaning down to scoop a sad-looking chao off of the ground. “You alright?”

“I’ve been away for a while. I guess they’ve grown dependent on me to shake the trees for them.” Knuckles absentmindedly punched the trunk of a tree beside him, catching the fruit that fell and handing it to the chao. “Here you go, little guy.” 

The chao chirped happily, curling closer to Sonic as it munched on the triangle fruit, seemingly content to remain in the hero’s arms. This time, his smile was genuine–Knuckles was sure of it, and it made his head spin, the tiny laugh that Sonic let out. His head was spinning in a good way this time, like he was sliding down a hill, leaping into a pile of leaves, freefalling as far as he could before gliding just inches above the seaspray. 

“Sonic?”

“Mhm?” The hedgehog turned, eyes glimmering with joy as he scratched the chao on the belly. 

“I–” he paused, trying to find the right words, and giving up when he realized he never would, there would never be a way to encapsulate the way Sonic made him feel, but he’d try anyway. Funny how losing him, even if just for a moment, made everything feel so much more temporary and simultaneously shoved it into place. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad that you’re alive.” 

Sonic laughed, joyful and free and real . “Wow, thanks for the sentiment,” he joked, playfully elbowing Knuckles, careful not to disturb the chao that had clambered onto his shoulder. 

“No.” Knuckles looked away. Why were his cheeks burning? “Sonic, when you got corrupted, I–I guess it made me realize how much I need you, how much I care about you as… well, as more than just a rival or a friend. More than I thought. You’re just so… so free, and yet you care so much, even though you don’t have to. You sacrifice so much not just for your friends, but for your enemies, for people you’ll never meet. So… thank you, I guess.” He bit his lip. “...Don’t make me say it again, you know how I am with feelings–”

Sonic swallowed his yelp of surprise, hands suddenly clinging to his dreads, pulling him close, somehow sweet and frantic all at once, and oh.

Oh.

That’s what that was. 

He began to pull away but Knuckles pulled him closer, deepening the kiss, hands coming to cup his grip on his dreads, and suddenly he was being shoved backwards, pressed against the trunk of the tree he’d just punched to give the chao fruit. Sonic hummed against his lips, parting for just a second before diving in again, clinging to Knuckles as if his life depended on it, not the other way around. “I love you too,” he murmured against his lips, and Knuckles shuddered, refusing to let the kiss end. It didn’t feel real but it somehow felt so, so right , as if he’d been waiting for this his entire life without realizing it, and maybe he had been, maybe that was what he’d been missing all this time. It was like he was walking on a cloud, Sonic pulling him up among the stars, outshining all of them with the way he unraveled Knuckles, piece by piece, delicately yet completely pulling him apart and cradling him close. He was trembling like a leaf, Knuckles realized, and suddenly they were falling.

They separated with a gasp, Sonic tumbling to the ground and swearing as he lost his balance, Knuckles following with a yelp. In an instant, they were a tangled pile of limbs and fur on the forest floor, stunned into silence before Sonic laughed, raspy and real . 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” he admitted. Knuckles scoffed. “What, you waited ?” he teased. “Do I know you?”

The chao let out a whine and Sonic winced, turning to look at it, sitting grumpily on the floor with crossed arms and an upturned nose. “Sorry, little guy. Didn’t mean to drop you.” It peeped, frustrated, and Knuckles sighed in contentment, holding out a bulky hand for it to climb into and pulling it close. “Really Sonic, have more respect for the wildlife,” he scolded. 

Sonic sniffed, turning up his nose. “I had more important business to take care of.” Knuckles growled playfully, capturing him again. 

#sonknux #sth #sth fanfic #sth fanfiction #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic fanfiction #knuckles #knuckles the echidna #knuckles x sonic #knuxonic #sonknuckles #i Love them more than words can express #hopefully this suffices hehe #reblogs r appreciated also ... im proud of this?? kinda?? wack #anyway im Normal abt them guys! #fuck the sun and moon imagery call sonic the eclipse cannon bc he kissed the moon and that bitch had an autistic YIPPEE explosion <3

[vagueiish]

fuck i wish i could write. oliver just signed the deal with raphael (because he constantly feels like he's doing nothing to help the party or anyone and putting his soul on the line is the very least he could do, even though he helps everyone and also is like.... at max approval with the whole party and has finished or done the majority of everyone's personal quests)(he's trusting the emperor less and less, for Reasons, which i guess would involve more writing because it involves personal backstory shit, and he's already burned the bridge with gortash by crashing the party at the iron throne and saving wyll's dad, so his options to deal with the tadpoles are becoming fewer and fewer)(so. raphael it is. for now...?)

and astarion's basically just like 'well that was stupid, but what do i care, it's not *my* name on the contract lol' (even though oliver's apparently the first person he's truly cared for, bb, what are you doing? is this a 'id rather you hadn't, and i'm actually kind of upset but don't know how to deal and also you're a fuckin adult and made your choice, so what's the point in saying anything' moment or what, i am having trouble deciphering this right now)(and i know the dude is an ass, i dont expect him to be Nice, but your honor, theyre in love. and he did sound kind of pissed about it! or irritated/sarcastic??? but! how did he mean it? my brain is not cooperating, i hate this, lmao, i wish there was a follow up convo or something so i could pin down this fuckin plot bunny)

(and i mean. this is deviating into headcanon/oliver as tav specific territory, and is me trying to figure out how it'd figure into the thing i'd wind up writing for this if i do, and again, astarion is an ass and all that, maybe not the most emotionally mature dude in the realms to put it mildly, but he'd know, right? eventually, at least??? that he fucked up saying that? that however he actually meant it, it's going to sound very much like 'i don't actually care about you' to the first person he professes to actually care about?)(and in terms of oliver's canon timeline, i think he signs well after his own 'personal quest' would have occurred. so astarion would know about oliver's mother and all that baggage. not that he'd necessarily know what do to with it, but he'd probably have heard her be all 'yeah, i never actually cared for or wanted you, soo....')(which is an oversimplification and the whole situation is quite complicated, but. that's the gist he gets, so anyway...)

and then karlach. my love. the bestest of girls, she's angry and insisting on going to avernus one last time to save oliver's fucking soul because she's awesome and also because he's her friend and, tangent, i wish there was an option at all times to hug her, whether as a friend or lover. she deserves all the hugs, romantical or platonic or whatever, fuck, i want to hug karlach so fucking bad

and there is something *there* with all of this because oliver, sweet and sad and self-loathing, wouldn't have any of her help. he'd want her to let it go. gently, at first, but of course she doesn't, so then he gets pissed. because this is his decision. because it's not her name or anyone else's on the dotted line, so why the fuck does she care? (hm. sounds familiar.......) let it go. let him help for once, not be a burden on the party for *once* (as if he hasn't spent the whole adventure bending over backwards not just for our merry band of adventurers, but everyone he's come across)(because it's not enough, never enough, it'll never be enough to make up for being him) he isn't worth the trip to avernus, isnt worth her forcing herself to face that place again. and he's rarely loud or angry but he's both now, the exhaustion and frustration and uncertainty and fear re: the future that he's been trying to ignore pouring our of him, horribly misdirected at probably his best friend in the whole group, so of course the rest of the party is going to hear it and it's just.... there is something here, i feel it in me bones

(also. tangentially related, but didn't raphael imply that fucking up the contract would fuck over the whole group and not just whomstever is signing it? said something about hanging you and your friends from meathooks while watching the world burn??? so either he's full of shit or the contract actually fucks over everyone if broken, which..... oliver as tav would not have signed if breaking it affected anyone else, so this might all be moot. i dunno. just rambling)

#long post #but #it's kind of funny because i had oliver bring only astarion to sign the contract #because i imagined oliver wouldnt want the rest to know but he was still unsure about the decision #and wanted moral support lmao #he'd refused at first but overthought it and came crawling back #i dont know. maybe he was hoping the man he loved would try to stop him but he didnt.... #anyway..... #so it kind of feels like astarion got back to the rooms and was like 'oh btw he signed the fuckin contract lmao' #which i imagine karlach would flip out on him like 'why the *fuck* would you let him do that?' #to which astarion's snarks like 'what do i look like? his mother?' before maybe having an aha moment #hopefully having an aha moment #and maybe he notices that night that oliver doesnt ask if he's managed to feed at all today #something he's asked pretty much every day since astarions big vampire reveal #in some form or another. sometimes direct 'have you eaten?' sometimes a subtle 'you good?' #maybe he notices and maybe he knows something's wrong. but what the fuck is he supposed to do about it? #fuck. i dont know #there's something here. i know it #oc: could it be this misery will suffice? (oliver) #scott sucks at bg3 #bideo gaems #to the void with love

[moonavem]

I think the scalemates will be up on Etsy in a day or two. :D will post about it

#I didn’t crochet a lot #but my hands are falling off so it’ll have to suffice #I don’t think many will sell anyway so hopefully it’s enough 😂

[saltybiowarefantears]

Starting Black Sails: Oh maybe this will make taking another crack at Umbrella Academy more tolerable because I like Billy and didn't like Luther, so fondness through the bridge of Tom Hopper can help.

Finishing Black Sails: Well, shit.

#that backfired #hopefully this doesn't show up is any of those main tags because it's not me throwing shade or anything #suffice to say i've been flipping off the screen and saying 'fuck you' a lot #all over what i thought to be a stupidly out of character decision #plot has to plot i suppose but that has the catalyzing bit idk fam....... #anyway hi i'm like what some maths years too late with starbucks and Opinions™

[jrueships]

absolutely obsessed with ur drawing of Scottie, he just looks so perfect 🫠

OMG thank u !!!!! as a token of my appreciation, i gave him his favorite lil buddy to hangout with !!

#THEY ARE !!!! FRIENDS !!!!!!! #they say epic in 2022 #i just saw a video of harden saying smthin to maxey and maxey getting upset then moving to sit closer to joel instead #unfathomable. Rage. #ANYWAYS THO #sorry for all these anyways tags 😭 i feel like i say anyways and like and crying emoji too much.. i may B stupid 😔 #sometimes i Say things.. and i dont Have to.. but i Do #ANYWAYS ANYWAYS i rlly DO FR appreciate this ask omg! #i saw it and it made me smile!!! it was such a pleasant surprise! #i love compliments <3 i just dont know how to reply to them good enough that yall can see the full extent of my gratefulness 😭 #i hope this addon sketch will suffice 😭 #BUT YEA THO IT MEANS ALOT THAT U LIKE THE WAY I DRAW SOME PPL!!! #i like artistic interpretation a little Worryingly (making scotties hair very floofie) but also i want them to at LEAST look like them😭 #a LIL bit maybe.. hopefully #idk ! i like fun styles but they sometimes clash with recognition or whatever #PAIN nothing but PAIN #SO YEAH THO THIS MEANT ALOT 😊😊 I RLLY LOVE THE NICE FEEDBACK! #SCOTTIE SO SCRUNGLE TO ME !! hes so fun to draw bcs hes so hard to draw 😭 i blame his bigass chin #and then maxey has a little lower half face.. like a triangle or smthin? #i wish i didnt notice this but i have the third eye for unnecessary bullshit and bullshit only #the looks so perfect comment 🥰🥰🥰🥰 AAA my perfectionism... being FED ! #complex time 😈 ? #IM KIDDING BUT IT DID MAKE ME FEEL GOOD THO SO THANK U #even if i cannot see the emoji u sent 😭 sorry i have an android #gets stoned to death i know im sorry 😔 #ted asks #ted doodles #maxey #scoots #they r !!!! BEST friends ‼️‼️

[earraigh]

As an farraige go dtí an mbord, cósta thiar na hÉireann, Lúnasa '23

From the sea to the table, Ireland's west coast, August '23

#ireland #35mm #blood #meat #fish #idk what else to tag that with so that you're not seeing this if you dont want to but hopefully that suffices #the only meat i eat is fish and i only started again over a year ago but im still uncomfortable with it #unless i go home and it's been caught by my family in the currach as shown above bc it just seems natural like if we kill something #to eat it then we should be willing to kill it ourselves #anyways all that to say we are too far removed from the way our food is sourced (and it's not always our fault i know)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

UPDATE What's up, it's the proposal guy. You said you wanted to know how this turned out, so I figured I'd tell you. First some context though, because I'm mean and I wanna keep you in suspense longer.

1- I don't wanna doxx us so I'm not telling you where we live, but suffice to say, neither of us are American, and gay marriage has been legal here for less than five years. For both of us, this is the first relationship we've had where marriage was even an OPTION, and I think that's where we've been getting some of that whole 'this has to be a REAL proposal with EVERYTHING' idea.

2- I gotta figure out how to explain this properly. So, I'm pretty used to being the GUY guy in relationships? I was always the one who did the nice gestures, not the one they got done for. Before I met my dream guy, I didn't really notice or care that it was such a thing, I just assumed that's how shit worked. Also, I promised I wouldn't talk a lot about his stuff here, but his last boyfriend before me SUCKED. Anyway point here is, it turns out we both REALLY like feeling swept off our feet sometimes, and a big part of finding each other has been getting to feel special for once? That's a stupid sappy way of putting it the point here is I think all that's what morphed into "I need to be the one getting proposed to, also it has to be completely perfect", and then our Petty & Extra genes got involved.

So I'm sitting in bed thinking about all that up there, and watching all the comments coming in basically being like "Dude, you are BLOWING this" on repeat, and telling me to compromise, and I look up and see him flossing in the bathroom and making all these doofy faces at the mirror, and it's like a switch just flips in my brain, and I'm like "Oh, I'd rather he gets to have his perfect proposal than we both have an okay one". I'm gonna do it.

Morning rolls around, and while I'm 'out for my jog like normal' I hit up a pawn shop for a temp ring (the ring pop thing is cute but NOT HIM). I found one I was at least confident wouldn't get ruined the first time he got his hands greasy (he fixes old machines as a hobby it's hot as hell), got back home, and hid the box in the toe of my nasty ass workout shoes in the bedroom closet, since I figured he'd check there last.

He was still asleep, because he stays up late no matter what and then is SHOCKED he's tired the next day, so I called and booked a table at our usual anniversary spot. (Side note about the 'he picks bad restaurants' thing. This isn't an 'I like Greek, you like Chinese' situation, dude's just BAD at finding places. He either assumes pricey is tasty and I get to eat some overrated gourmet bullshit, or he'll try and find something hip and underground and risk giving us food poisoning again, and he REFUSES to give up and pick somewhere we've been before when it's his turn to plan date night. I'm obsessed with him <3.) Date was set, I'd propose on the 21st.

Some of you might have noticed this, but fun fact! It's currently the 16th.

Last night I'm doing dishes and he's been sent to our room for mug collection duty, and he's taking FOREVER, so I go check just in case he found the ring, because the man's a gift tracking BLOODHOUND. Turns out he hasn't, he's found my Angry Box.

I assume other people have an Angry Box? Basically, we had this huge messy fight right when we first moved in together, and I never wanna let it get that bad again, so I have this shoebox where I keep a bunch of our stuff I can look at if we're fighting and hopefully cool off. There's one of those photo booth roll things, letters we wrote when he moved back with his parents for COVID, the wine cork from our first date, shit like that. Anyway, he's just sitting on the floor staring at it, and I explain about the Angry Box, and then he! Proposes!!! Kind of.

He definitely didn't have anything prepared, because by 'propose' I mean 'ugly cried & rambled at me for several minutes before I figured out it WAS a proposal', but once I got on the same page it was amazing. I said yes, and he had to admit he didn't have a ring for me because he was CONVINCED he'd win and I'd do it, so I grabbed mine because, yeah, he was right. He was like "this is the ugliest ring I've ever seen" and I was like yeah well the plan is to replace it later and he went "No. You can pry this off my cold dead fingers. After I'm buried with it." So I guess it's not a temporary ring anymore.

I'm just gonna go ahead and skip to this morning. I pointed out we still have the reservation, and he said I should propose there anyway because "We can get a free dessert. They have those creme brulee shot glasses you like. And for love, or something" and I said ok deal, but that means you gotta get me a ring to keep it fair, and his eyes LIT UP. When I swung by his work for lunch he was still on the phone with a jeweler and he had a whole page of notes on three other ones. Pray for me.

OH PS: I was RIGHT that he'd been the one behind the cat biting me, but it wasn't about the proposal stuff, it's because I paid my baby sister three dollars to shout 'fuck you' every single time he enters a room she's in for (if you ask me, he should be madder at my sister for charging so little), and he did it by giving her a bunch of treats for biting his hands too, so now neither of us can pet our baby girl without oven mitts on. HOLY SHIT I love this man.

Oh my goddddddd I love everything about this <333 I awwww'd out loud on a voice call, like, six times while reading. You two are friggin perfect for each other and so obviously smitten with each other and I wish y'all all the happiness in the world

PS Are y'all planning to have a big wedding? If so oh boy I can't WAIT to get that one in the inbox

Original post

#aita #am i the asshole #aita update #the saga of proposal anon

[perenlop]

1 for asha, valerie and marlow!!

01:  A memory from your character’s childhood

Asha: Trying to talk to her Aunt Quinn. They don't really understand why she's distant, but she's family and they live together, so she must be nice, right? Quinn indulges the kid and tries to hold a conversation, but it's clear she doesn't quite know how to talk to them, saying things that Asha doesn't really understand. Eventually, she just awkwardly pats her on the head and tells her to go play outside.

Valerie: Marlow taking her down to the beach so they could swim together. He'd find and hunt some fish for the two of them and like the two of them play on the currents. Notably, they weren't allowed to go far from the town, but she still remembers it fondly

Marlow: His parents promising him to take him down to the beach to see the Krabby blowing bubbles at sunset after they got home from their latest mission, and him wanting to join in with the krabby with his mom at least. By the time it was dusk, they still weren't home. Downcast, he ended up going to Aisling's home instead, where she and her siblings tried to recreate the experience for him by blowing soap bubbles with his real bubbles

#valerie is kind of hard to do these for bc the point is that her backstory is like. very nice but ultimately uninteresting #hopefully fluff suffices tho! #i want to go more into quinn and asha's relationship sometime. quinn does care about her #but shes so awkward around her and feels like she's interfering with her brothers new family #and feels like she has to get out of it. she doesnt feel like she belongs but she doesnt want to leave either #and on top of that just feeling envious that her brother can provide for THIS kid but not her.... #and this kid doesnt have to feel like she ruined her dads life #and quinn doesnt really like kids anyways so its like. weird for her #moonscape #mail

[tojisprettywife]

{note: i rewrote this, with b.s.t (hope someone gets the reference 🧍🏻‍♀️) anyway i cried, it got deleted first. i’m sleepy, hopefully it’s okay. minors DNI.}

warnings: smut. characters! m! x f! reader. characters are aged up to 21.

inexperienced men. who for the very first time feel, what a pussy feels like. your gummy, warm walls clenching around his throbbing cock. the way he clenches his jaw and gritting his teeth, to regain composure from cumming almost immediately. “f-fuck…so tight ..”. your pulsing soft walls suck his cock in, barely holding himself up. the way his soft, silky locks fall on your chest as he’s hunched over you. only gasps, curses and more whimpers slipping out of his lips. “so.. t—tight.. shit..”. pushing his full length into, till the base, gripping the plush of your hips, a bit too hard, in meek attempts to stop himself from painting your tight walls white. after what seems like forever, he slowly moves his hips, each stroke, sending shivers down his spine. he leans down to kiss you, again in attempts to keep him from moaning loud. he pushes his tongue into your mouth, his tongue lapping yours. but soon, the kissing gets sloppy, saliva dripping down both your chins. he leans down, burying his face into the crook of your neck. his teeth grazing the base of your neck, as his hips erratically, in haste buck against yours. the sound of his balls slapping against your ass, filling the room combined with his little whimpers and yours. “i-i’m cum-ming… f-fuck” he buries himself to the hilt, pushes himself even deeper, his tip bruising your cervix. his eyes squeezed shut, biting down your shoulder lightly. his cock, pumping ropes of milky, sticky cum. his cock twitching inside you, panting against your neck. just as he catches his breath, your walls convulse around his twitching cock, overstimulating. “o- fuckkk.. f..ck” barely able to form coherent sentences, slurring his words. burying his face into the pillow, beside your head, to stifle his moans. muffled moans, teary eyes as one hand gripped your waist tightly, bruising them lightly and the other hand gripping the sheets, crumpling them. his first feel of a vaginal orgasm. he presses soft kisses from your jawline to your neck, “it feels… so good.. one more time?.. please baby?..”. no longer will his hands suffice for him, as he felt what heaven feels like, you.

~ Choso Kamo, Gojo Satoru, Oikawa Toru, Nagi Seishiro, Inumaki Toge, Miya Atsumu, Naoya Zenin, Yuuji Itadori, Kageyama Tobio + whoever you want 😵‍💫

#kay! writes ☆ #☢︎︎．𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗍 #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #nagi seishirou #blue lock #rukawa kaede #slam dunk #haikyuu smut #miya atsumu #inumaki x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk imagines #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo headcanons #gojo smut #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #naoya x reader #naoya zenin #naoya smut #oikawa tooru #hq smut

[undeadcannibal]

Cod men with an so that has a kink for their gear/uniform *insert evil laugh* like they come home from work and their so is just DROOLINGGG over them like ughhh

Summary: Headcanons for Alejandro, Ghost, and Price with an SO who likes their gear/uniform~

Genre: Headcanons, request(s) Characters featured: Alejandro, Ghost, and Price

Warnings: none!

A/N: Hello hello! Thank you for the request, Anon. Hopefully this suffices because I felt I didn’t do this one enough justice cause I’m getting back into the swing of things, ahhh. Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy! TuT  ( Gif credit: xxx )

Alejandro―

He's the type to immediately notice your affinity for his gear, even if you're the type that tries to suppress your desires 

Specifically, he notices each time your gaze lingers on his form longer than usual. Even more so when he has to stop to adjust or fix a part of his uniform 

At first, he doesn't let you know he's in on your little secret. Although, that doesn't mean he doesn't feed into it whenever he has the chance 

Whenever he's returning home from an extended mission - regardless of whether or not he's exhausted - he'll take his sweet time in removing his gear. Allowing you to soak in the view of each and every intricate piece adorning his body 

With Alejandro's gear, it's difficult for you to pick a favorite piece you enjoy seeing him wear, but he notes that familiar gleam of desire in your eyes whenever he's dealing with straps

Naturally, so he's not losing anything important, they've to be pretty tight to his form. Still, he'll go just a bit tighter than he usually does right before he's through the door

I can also definitely see him as the type to try and impress you by showing off, busting open the tight strap wrapped around his flexing bicep~

Kiss him and tell him all about how much you adore seeing him in his gear and he'll happily put on a show for you in any of his uniforms/sets 

Ghost― 

Much like Alejandro, he notices the lingering looks and extra touches to his gear right away. However, he's much more subtle about indulging you with it 

He doesn't always like to wear his full gear when he's home. I headcanon him as the type to prefer to keep that part of his life separate from his home life for many reasons

However... 

He'll tease you ever so often by wearing one of his more casual skull-decorated masks around the house, maybe even including his skeleton gloves if he's feeling extra

Either way, you best believe he'll casually torture you when wearing them around you. Going out of his way to purposefully ignore any staring or dodging certain touches he knows are just to cop a feel  

Once he thinks you've had enough, he finally indulges you by touching you with his gloved hands wherever you please~ 

Possibly could be talked into bringing a mask of his into the bedroom for you

GOD, GIVE ME MASKED, GLOVED GHOST IN MY BEDROOM AHHH

He won't admit how much he enjoys it like you, but after trying it a few times, I can definitely see him imagining those evenings you spend together each time he sees those gloves and mask  

Price―

Sometimes when he's too tired, he'll get a little lazy when taking off his gear, so occasionally he'll bump into you while still wearing his vest and hat

Though, shortly after noticing the way you become very interested in his gear, he's perking up in no time. Why was he so tired again?  

Much like Alejandro, he delights in giving in to your desires and goes out of his way to leave on certain pieces of his gear/uniform when he's feeling in the mood to be a tease

Adores the way your hands feel tugging on his vest impatiently, or whenever you're pleading for something you need

If you're good, maybe even lets you wear the hat while the two of you fool around

Seeing you wearing it while atop him makes him understand why you like seeing him in his own gear so much

Even more so if you're just wearing his hat~

#call of duty x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #cod headcanons #headcanons #anonymous #requests #opened mail #my writing