#one of us was viscerally disgusted

[inkskinned]

probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.

we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."

at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.

the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.

the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.

what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.

here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.

#this is true #writeblr #warm up #relatedly for some reason one of our Favorite Jokes #amongst the Siblings #is like - ''this is so good u will love it'' #while we are reacting to something we OBVIOUSLY find viscerally disgusting #like we will be actively retching and be like ''nooooo it's so good'' #to the point that i sometimes get nervous if someone outside my family is like oh u should try it its good #(obvi we never force each other to eat anything. we are all just curious birds and #like. we're GONNA try the new thing.) #edit to answer why we had so much vanilla: #my mom is a very good cook and we LOVE to bake. so she just had a lot of staples in the house. #it's one of those things that's like. have u ever continuously thought ''ah i should get butter im probably out'' #even tho u are not out of butter. so u end up with like 5 years of butter. #my mom would do that in a costco but like with vanilla extract #to be fair we WERE always using WAY TOO MUCH bc we were kids #so like she was right to stock up #ps. yes we were VERY sick after this lol i just didn't want to include it in the post in case ppl had an ick about that #u can tell it's real bc we knew "oh no we fucked up that's too much vanilla to waste'' but our reaction was to just. keep drinking it #> sibling understanding that vanilla extract isn't free > knowledge mother doesnt mind if we use it for milkshakes #> sibling choice to maybe get in a loophole of ''not wasting it'' if we drink it bc that's the same as using it (not throwing it out) #listen bud i was like 13 and my sister was like 9 #when my mom discovered this we. got in. A LOT. of trouble. a lot of it. a LOT of it. #3rd edit bc i guess it isn't clear - i am 1 of my brother's 2 little sisters #i am the middle child #out of all the ways i have had to explain a post before being like ''did u forget a middle child can happen'' is my favorite

[dhmis-autism]

Hey hello!

Here are some colored doodles of the fun little DHMIS bodyswap idea thought up by the very fun, very smart @escargon! I did them way back when and wanted to finish them up to add to the fun lol.

It was sooo much fun to draw and I hope I made it clear whos who by the body language/dialogue but if not! I put a helpful little diagram in there. Also,as well, I think if Duck had access to a relatively-normal sized body like Reds’ that duckman is dressing up and NO ONE can stop him. So that’s the last two.

#DHMIS #don't hug me i'm scared #dhmis duck #dhmis red guy #dhmis yellow guy #I have SOOO MUCH TO SAY ABT THESE BC THIS CONCEPT IS SO FUCKING FUNNY TO MY ANY WAY YOU SLICE IT #so im just putting it here bc. i said everything nessecary I think. #anyways i think yellow in reds body would just be crouching down the whole time. not used to the height and is a lil scared of standing up #also think he would mouthbreathe so hard he'd get the whole front of yarn wet itd be disgusting shkdsh #i think either ONE of them in yellows body is like 'OW WHY DO I SUDDENLY HAVE A MIGRAINE' #and I absolutely think Duck in Reds body would be a literal actual monster #He would let the new height go to his head SOOO FAST its not even funny like. just absolute menacery #and obligatory getting to wear normal clothes of course. again. mad with power imo. #also i DID draw but didnt finish the idea that Red would hate both of the other twos clothes. like just be so viscerally uncomfortable #i drew a lot of stuff that didnt make it here but yknow what thats just stuff only my good friend Bear shall know i suppose............ #my dhmis postings #me art

[hypodermicfroggy]

I wished for a Bioshock movie for Y E A R S

but now that we're finally getting one I don't want it

I do not have faith this is going to be a good adaption, I'm sorry, maybe 10 years ago this could have been a great passion project (especially if Gore Verbinski had been involved like originally planned) but I just know it's going to be an over-actioned, improperly funded (since it's a Netflix production they're absolutely going to either dump too much or not enough money in it then write it off as a failure if it doesn't 'perform' well enough), CGI-laden slop fest that doesn't even acknowledge or properly handle half the themes present in the series.

#Bioshock #Bioshock Movie #bonus points if it only focuses on the first game and doesn't include ANYTHING from the tie-in novel or BS2 #they're going to cut Sophia Lamb's role from the plot I just fucking KNOW IT #like she was fucking important! she was the one who actually STARTED the class war! Fontaine literally just took advantage of it! #hell half the problems with BURIAL AT FUCKING SEA could have been fixed if Levine wasn't a shit and hadn't refused to use ANYTHING from BS2 #like is BS2 as good as the first? no but it's still fucking better than that shitshow you call Infinite! #and the tie-in novel actually quite skillfully blended both games together to help account for certain plot errors between the two #(a novel that Levine also REFUSED TO READ) #like you could tell it was written by someone who wanted to do the series justice which is more than I can say for most tie-ins #if this movie ends up actually being good I'll fucking eat my words but considering this director's body of work includes #the Will Smith I AM LEGEND and the last three* Hunger Games films #we are not batting 1000 for quality here #I say this as someone who likes the Hunger Games movies #but they are not really the best adaptions of the novels and really downplay a lot of the more horrifying aspects for action scenes #and I fear the same will be true for Bioshock's film as well. #like the Little Sisters alone should elicit nothing short of visceral disgust and pity but I just know they're going to be so boring #they're just going to be like pale girls with glowing eyes instead of proper blood-guzzling corpse-looting parasite hosts calling it now #croak.txt #reblog.wank

[asthevermincrawls]

the thing is. you can't let anger overtake your heart. it will turn you bitter and helpless, chewing your own tongue till it bleeds while nothing gets done. you have to let your love for the indigenous peoples of turtle island, of aotearoa, of australia, of palestine, to guide you to action, to ignite your heart in hope. justice is possible. many hands make the burden light

#these past few days have been a definite turning point for me #i was never particularly patriotic. i was critical of ''canada'' before #but now i have nothing but disgust and anger towards the nation calling itself ''canada'' #i watched a woman cry for her stolen children. her rage and grief were so visceral as she sang to us (the colonizers! the settlers!) #and begged us to fight for her #and i watched the major news outlets' gross miscoverage of the event. focusing on one mention of hamas' hostages instead the numbers #of palestinians dead. the airstrikes on the hospitals. the descendants of holocaust survivors calling it a genocide #(the news called them ''''self identified''' jews. what a slap in the face to someone who lost their father in the holocaust!) #I have to try and turn that disgust and anger for ''canada'' into love and hope for the first peoples of turtle island #and all colonized people #i have to try and fight for them #a.txt

[caffeinatedopossum]

Me and my cat are exactly the same and it's hilarious. Like my gf just got a new rug to go over a cord we have on the floor (my autism along with some other factors make me really clumsy and I WILL trip over it so yeah) but she had me feel the rugs at the store because she wants one that's also an okay texture for me. Well she grabbed one and showed it to me and it's just *chefs kiss* very good texture. So immediately when she lays it down at home, me and the cat both sit on it before she's even done adjusting it XD

#weve both got a touch of the tism #also he gets sensory overload which i think is endearing #but also kind of sad especially when other people dont understand whats going on and make it worse #or just generally resent him for something he cant control #hehe also he has a lot of the same stims as me #like looking out the window and pacing (i walk but he zooms cause cat) and kneading things and feeling all the soft textures #and he eats weird by knocking one piece of kibble out of his food bowl at a time and eating it #unless hes famished. which i used to eat all of my food one piece at a time and would even get mad/aggravated when other people didnt #like seeing people just shove a whole handful of skittles in their mouth would give me this visceral disgust and hatred lmao #i was a weird kid. im honestly not sure why i grew out of that but it kinda makes me sad #i think it was my eating disorder. idk im not a fan of the disgust but the way i used to eat i think i enjoyed food more #more than i have in a really long time #i also think its funny that me and the cat both copy each other so weve just created this feedback loop of autistic behavior #its hilarious. sometimes he even tried to pet me by like placing his paw on me a few times and its so cute

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

hey owlvid sorry to milkshake duck you again but apparently emu lady is really racist, according to stuff twitter gave me randomly

https://twitter.com/micahhomgg/status/1549759714648547330?t=2U6z7V3jsq7GiFedA3tg2Q&s=19

also more on your profession side of things other ppl are criticizing her response to the bird flu outbreak in her flock, but idk enough about how this stuff works, so. i guess scroll thru some of the replies to see ppl discussing how shes handling it and debating whether shes risking even more outbreaks, got any opinion on that front?

https://twitter.com/m_scribe/status/1581735555171516416?t=Hd3-5nnRjgAmZDZX7CY3cg&s=19

Imagine my surprise that a white country woman is fully mask off racist on main lol. I always leave my expectations on the ground for white country folk in general.

Anyway, it seems she now has one (1) bird as the others either died or had to be culled. She’s allegedly been taking the standard precautions given by the FDA. There seems to be confusion in that thread on what HPAI is. I won’t begrudge people who wear large amounts of ppe to protect themselves from the virus, but when I put it on to handle birds suspected of HPAI I am doing so to prevent spreading it to other birds, not because I think I’ll catch it myself.

Could she catch it? Technically, yes. But “highly pathogenic” in this case is referring to how fast it spreads between birds. Only a tiny handful of people have gotten this strain. I believe it’s still in the single digits. I would be more concerned about her being white as a sheet overusing the N word back in the day than I am that she’s actually going to catch or spread it. The main vector that’s caused accidental spread is fecal-oral and she has been using foot baths or at least she claims to be. I wouldn’t be shocked if her “quarantine” procedure isn’t adequate to prevent other birds from catching it entirely, but there isn’t a lot that can be done with ratites in terms of that. Nothing in the replies on that tweet really suggested anything that raised a red flag in terms of what measures are being taken, and a lot of people on there immediately outed themselves as knowing little about it so I can’t say much in these terms.

I do hope Emmanuel recovers though. He’s a bird and I bet he’s never said the N word once. I sentence his owner to three CRT classes and an in-depth lecture on black history and why that word cannot be used by whites just because some black people use it flippantly.

#Some of the tweets were a decade old so idk maybe she already has figured it out #I guess we’ll see maybe she’ll say something #she reads more as a generic ignorant racist than a violent one in those tweets so #it’s more disdain and exasperation that I feel from that than it is genuine disgust and visceral hatred toward her #Learn and do better Lady #it’s an incredibly bad look for a white country woman to use the n word like it’s punctuation #does she still do that or was she just in her Stupid Arc

[bottommarcothephoenixenjoyer]

Saw a post on here a while ago but can't find it now where op asked people what thing they were actually gatekeepy about in the "oh yeah? you think you're a REAL fan of xyz? the name This Many things about it" and couldn't think of what to respond with despite knowing there was SOMETHING.

Well. We figured it out.

Horror Media.

If you think Stephen King is the scariest horror writer ever, then we're side-eying you. If you think Bloober Team has ANY chance of making a good Silent Hill game, then we're side-eyeing you. If you think the giving the backrooms monsters or lore is a good idea, then we're side-eyeing you.

Look, we get different people have different likes and dislikes, but if you're a fan of horror then mayyyyybe you should try to find a writer who isn't so tame our own 59-year-old mother when she was in her 20s? Or a dev team that doesn't seem to think people with trauma/mental illness should unalive themselves because of it? Or think about how fear of the unknown and fear of isolation is actually scarier than a place full of monsters that you can apparently escape if you can stick it out?

So yeah, we're a bit gatekeepy about horror and horror media. That said, liking something because you just think it's fun for superficial reasons is good, too. Like how we enjoy some good Nightmare on Elm Street sequels because Freddy Krueger is a fun villain, and we love a good, fun villain in this house. 😤😤😤

#krispeaks #we just want SCARY horror stuff you guys #also PLEASE stop putting his stuff on splatterpunk novel lists ffs #we'll give you that stephen king DOES write horror but NOT splatterpunk horror #genre labels exist for a reason stg #also. fuck bloober team. you're gonna ruin Silent Hill even further. #if the horror fans find this we might be in trouble tbh some of them are weird af #and we're gonna drop the apparent hot take that Terrifier 2 probably isn't scary #all we've seen is the one scene where the clown tortures this one chick for like 1 minutes and it was bad #the one where he literally rubs salt in her wounds #we don't care if he used magic to keep her alove during that scene or whatever #it was super lame and boring and cutting the skin off the scalp doesn't reveal the brain if you're not also cutting the skull #and gore isn't even scary. it's visceral and disgusting but not scary. #and we say this as someone who loves gore!

[boysnberriespie]

Whoa that’s literally crazy, I was following some mean ass people on Twitter 😭

#like damn maybe if you’re having such a visceral reaction to people’s untagged posts expressing upset #YOU should be the one to log off #not quote tweet them and call them rude things #like Twitter is Twitter (I’m never calling it X I will deadname that website 🫶🏻) #but I really thought I was cultivating my space lmao #like why is the energy so shockingly miserable #also saw someone making a very in poor taste statement attempting attempting to compare responses to this and Palestine which… #like 1) just very innapropriate to use a literal ongoing genocide as a fandom gotcha 😐 #2) you are literally not even posting about Palestine you’re posting about the show like not only are using it as a gotcha #you also just actively don’t care? very evil #like that one was just really egregious I took a moment with it #because I just really don’t wanna even attempt to put fandom and real mass human suffering on the same playing field #it’s just so callous like I can’t even be insulted I am just very disgusted #to see real death and extreme violence done unto people and think #‘wow this is the perfect vehicle with which to tell people they’re overreacting’

[roach-works]

funniest kind of alien to meet: a big bearlike species that cultivates a symbiotic population of bugs in their fur. the bugs distribute oils, eat dead skin and hair, and fight off parasitical species. it's like an external immune system for them. they only lose their bugs on death, when the colony flows from the cooling body into the warm fur of the assembled mourners. a bearlian with no bugs, due to fire or frost damage, is in need of immediate transfusion or they will be at risk of terrible infections.

unfortunately humans have no symbiotic bugs in our fur, and our ancient instincts are to remove all bugs from all fur, immediately. a body covered in swarming little pests is deeply horrifying: it's viscerally dangerous to us.

so each of us see one another as disgusting corpses. and our diplomats have to talk to each other across very wide tables.

#aliens #bugs #two aliens trying so hard not to barf #for the sale of galactic prosperity

[tgcg]

candid detail. my biggest project so far

hey happy new year

CG: DAVE?

TG: yeah?

CG: SOMETHING’S KIND OF FUCKING ME UP RIGHT NOW AND I NEED TO TELL YOU SPECIFICALLY ABOUT IT IN CANDID DETAIL.

TG: oh shit

===

TG: yeah whats up

TG: not too often i get to be the sole audience to karkats grievances

CG: PFF, BULLSHIT. YOU'RE PRIVY TO WAY MORE ABOUT MY GRIEVANCES THAN BASICALLY ANY OF MY SURVIVING AND PRESENT FRIENDS, BY A SIGNIFICANT MARGIN, AND YOU KNOW IT.

TG: yeah and im boutta add another im like broses up on that hill bundled up in a long ass list of things that make the homies upset

TG: lay it on me

===

CG: OKAY. SO.

…

CG: I’M KIND OF THINKING ABOUT JUST. US AND OUR BRO-DOM.

===

TG: oh

CG: LET ME FINISH.

CG: ALL THIS TIME I’VE BEEN FUCKING FORCED TO SPEND IN THE DREAM BUBBLES MADE ME REALISE SOMETHING, AND THAT’S THAT…

===

CG: THIS IS KIND OF RARE, RIGHT?

TG: what

TG: us

CG: YEAH! LIKE… THERE’S SO MANY THANKFULLY DEAD KARKATS I’VE HAD THE INSURMOUNTABLE GODDAMN DISPLEASURE OF FAILING TO AVOID THAT DON’T LIKE YOU, BARELY MET YOU, OR EVEN JUST DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU.

===

CG: IT’S THE RARE AMBIVALENCE THAT REALLY GETS TO ME. I ABSOLUTELY UNDERSTAND A TIMELINE’S KARKAT FIRMLY DECIDING THAT THEY HATE YOUR ASS. NON-ROMANTICALLY I MEAN. THAT HAS BEEN ME, FOR FUCK’S SAKE. BUT THERE WAS NEVER, EVER!!! A POINT WHERE I JUST FELT NOTHING ABOUT YOU AT ALL.

CG: EVEN WHEN I INITIALLY HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF SEEING YOUR DOUCHEBAG SPECTACLES YOU GOT FROM YOUR BRO ON THE SCREEN, I AT LEAST HAD A STARTER DISH OF SKEWERED CONTEMPT TO WHET MY APPETITE. IT’S IMPOSSIBLE TO IMAGINE NOT FEELING ONE WAY OR ANOTHER ABOUT YOU.

===

CG: ONE TIME I MENTIONED YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF A THREE-WAY ARGUMENT AND ONE OF THE OTHER KARKATS SAID "WHO?"

CG: "WHO?"!!!!

TG: now thats fucked up

CG: IT IS! AND THAT'S WHAT MADE ME FIRST REALISE THAT NOT EVERY KARKAT IS GETTING TO HANG OUT WITH EVERY DAVE, AND VICE VERSA. AND THIS IS GOING TO SOUND LAME AS SHIT IN A WAY THAT I’LL NEVER EVER LIVE DOWN, BUT. I FEEL BAD FOR THEM ABOUT IT! YOU KNOW?

===

TG: well you always feel bad about around and towards other yous so thats

TG: wait

TG: is or is not the nature of this moment of self-pity fuelled by malice anger disgust or any similar terms slash phrases

CG: I MEAN, FOR ONCE? DON’T GET ME WRONG, THE MALICE ANGER DISGUST ET CETERA IS STILL THOROUGHLY PERMEATING THE WHOLE ORDEAL. THE DAY I LOSE CONTEMPT FOR MY ALTERNATE SELVES IS THE DAY I GET TAKEN OUT BACK AND PUT DOWN LIKE THE LAME HOOFBEAST I’VE ALWAYS DREAMT OF BEING. BUT…

CG: I ACTUALLY JUST FEEL SAD FOR THEM, STRAIGHT UP. INDEPENDENT FROM TERMS PREVIOUSLY MENTIONED.

===

TG: damn

CG: AND THAT FEELS INCREDIBLY WEIRD TOO. I CAN’T EVEN ARGUE WITH THEM ABOUT IT, IT JUST MAKES ME FEEL THIS SHITTY, SHOCKINGLY QUIET… GRIEF? ALMOST? FOR THEM. GENERAL NON-TROLLIAN FEELINGS. AND EXCEPTIONALLY NON-STANDARD IN A KARKAT-TO-KARKAT CONVERSATION, AS YOU MIGHT HAVE GUESSED.

CG: BUT I KNOW IF I TOLD ANY OTHER EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED REFLECTION OF MY OWN FECULENT INNER FILTH TO TALK TO YOU, OR EVEN JUST LOOK AT YOU ONE TIME, THEY’D ONLY SEE IT AS ANOTHER PERSONAL AFFRONT. LIKE I JUST TOLD THEM "HEY, SHIT ALL OVER YOUR FROND AND SNIFF IT, IT’LL BE AMAZING JUST TRUST ME, ABSOLUTELY ZERO REASON NOT TO."

===

TG: you come up with the most potent mental images man youre the wordmeister of viscerally gross as hell vocab

CG: THANK YOU.

===

CG: AND LIKE… SHIT, I DEFINITELY WOULD’VE FELT THAT WAY BEFORE I GOT TO KNOW YOU! I UNDERSTAND THE INNER MACHINATIONS OF THOSE IMBECILIC NOOKSTAINS BETTER THAN ANYONE EVER COULD, DESPITE MY BEST EFFORTS.

CG: KARKATS UNIVERSALLY DECIDING THAT THEY JUST CANNOT LIKE YOU ON PRINCIPLE IS A CRISIS OF SHIT HAPPENSTANCES. THE HAPPENINGS ARE ALL OUT OF WACK, COSMICALLY.

CG: LIKE EVERY ME WRITHED OUR WAY OUT OF THE BROODING CAVERNS AND THE FIRST CONSTELLATION WE SAW PEELING THROUGH THE EXOSPHERE, TWINKLING IN THE REFLECTION OF OUR HUGE RED GANDERBULBS, WAS A PAIR OF SHADES GETTING COVERED IN GASOLINE, FOLLOWED BY A CONSTELLATION OF A LIT MATCH.

CG: A SIMPLE EQUATION WITH A VERY SIMPLE SOLUTION.

CG: A SYSTEMIC EPIDEMIC, IF YOU’LL PARDON MY BULLSHIT.

===

TG: it is a goddamn catastrophe sweeping the karkat population

TG: presidents on the headlines trying to get karkats everywhere to stop quarantining their asses and have a real heart to heart among themselves about the issue but they keep isolating anyways

CG: I STILL DON’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL A PRESIDENT IS. YOU’VE FAILED TO DESCRIBE IT AS ANYTHING MORE THAN A POORLY-SELECTED "DUDE CONDESCE" WHO DOES NOTHING PRODUCTIVE AND THEN EITHER DIES OR RUINS EVERYTHING, OR SOME CHAOTIC COMBINATION OF THE TWO.

TG: well that is exactly what it is but wait good point

===

TG: tragedy strikes as the karkat population reveals it doesnt generally know what a president even is so it means jack shit to them that this dude is trying to get their attention

TG: and mr president he is getting voted the fuck out of office over this blunder just an embarrassing display

TG: the public trust has plummeted off the fucking chart and cratered the damn ground like a meteor

TG: or he could be the tenth to die in office yknow there was a pretty big stretch of no in-office deaths til 2009 so maybe some catchup would be good for everyone

CG: ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU WANT TO MAKE ANOTHER PRESIDENT, AND THEN KILL HIM?

TG: not me personally i just wanna be there and see it also is that dream bubble fucking huge or what

TG: must be the size of

===

TG: jupiter

===

TG: look all im saying is the end of the world coincided pretty notably with a dry spell in the presidential kill:death ratio

TG: i was tragically too busy not dying to see obama die live on television when an errant meteor hit the white house that was my one chance

CG: PFFFT.

TG: i want to keep a comically aloof finger on the pulse of the shit but i do not want to be among the shit

TG: but anyways guess its my turn on the pedestal

CG: BE MY FUCKING GUEST.

===

TG: yknow uh im not gonna lie if present me went back to me age thirteen sippin my dubious aj in my pre-apocalyptic layer of hell that was texas and told me

TG: hey that gray text dude is probably gonna be your best friend if you give him a shot yall could be sweet bros in real life itll be awesome

TG: i mean disregarding the fact i already doomed that guy because i dont remember that happening to me

TG: id probably be casting some wicked aspersions on that shit

===

TG: our whole friendship feels like a plot twist to my damn life story

CG: I HEAR YOU.

TG: its like our narratives bumped into each other hard on the street and decided yknow what yeah this pavement is pretty cosy lets talk about your dad

TG: but

===

TG: dont get your think pans too wrapped up in that different timeline stuff

CG: IT’S THINK PAN. SINGULAR. NOBODY HAS MORE THAN ONE THINK PAN, EVER. IT IS A SINGULAR ORGAN. IF YOU WOULD LET ME READ A TROLL BIOLOGY BOOK TO YOU ONE TIME WE’D STOP BUMPING INTO THIS ISSUE.

TG: gotcha and no

CG: OBVIOUSLY.

TG: but anyways dude look

===

TG: i am literally a time dude and i can tell you right now with all the sage wisdome of my knightitudes

TG: not a good way of looking at it

TG: ive met daves that didnt like you either it doesnt affect jack or shit because those daves arent me

TG: like they are in a way but

TG: me and all those other guys spent the whole game honing down these doomed timelines to a fine point and that point has obviously involved a whole lot of hanging out with you

CG: …

===

TG: so

TG: maybe they just missed the point while you and me were on the breaking edge of that shit

TG: we got to the bottom line of it so it doesnt matter yknow

CG: HUH.

===

TG: and i mean plus

===

TG: ive seen a handful of alternate daves and karkats who get along uh great apparently so

TG: yknow

===

CG: WHAT?

TG: you know what i fucking mean im not saying it

CG: ROLLING YOUR SHOULDERS AND SAYING "yknow" GENERALLY DOESN’T CONVEY FUCKING ANYTHING MEANINGFUL IN A CONVERSATION, DAVE.

CG: I’M NOT A PSYCHIC. YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO TELL ME WHAT YOU MEAN. IN CANDID DETAIL.

TG: its besides the point anyways

===

TG: the point is its you right here that matters overall and you right here is chilling with me so thats gotta mean at least one or two things

CG: OKAY, OKAY, YEAH… I GET WHAT YOU’RE SAYING. I REALLY DIDN’T THINK ABOUT IT LIKE THAT.

CG: YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND BY NOW HOW IT’D BE REALLY FUCKING DIFFICULT FOR ME TO WRAP MY THINK PAN AROUND THE CONCEPT OF ME BEING THE RIGHT VERSION OF ANYTHING.

CG: BUT I FEEL LIKE THE AMOUNT OF TIME WE'VE SPENT TOGETHER CUMULATIVELY IN THIS TIMELINE MAKES UP FOR THE AMOUNT OF DAVES AND KARKATS WHO NEVER SPENT ANY AT ALL, BY AT LEAST TENFOLD.

===

TG: heh yeah

HAHAH.

===

CG: GOD. WHO WOULD’VE GUESSED THAT KARKAT VANTAS WOULD GET TOO FAR INTO HIS OWN THINK PAN ABOUT THIS BULLSHIT, RIGHT?

TG: stop repeating the words think and pan i get it already

CG: ARE YOU SURE? TOTALLY SURE? ABSOLUTELY ASSFUCK CERTAIN OF YOURSELF?

TG: yes dude

CG: ALRIGHT. KEEP IN MIND THIS WILL BE ON THE TEST LATER.

TG: im acing that shit i swear to god youre gonna eat your damn foot

CG: STRUT POD

TG: when i pass that shit to oblivion

TG: youre gonna regret doubting me

CG: OKAY, DAVE. THEN EXPLAIN TO ME WITH ALL YOUR SAGE WISDOME: WHAT IS A "LUMPSQUIRT"? AND REALLY, TAKE YOUR TIME THINKING ABOUT THIS. GOD KNOWS WE'VE GOT MOMENTS A-FUCKING-PLENTY TO SPARE.

TG: as the literal god of time in your local area i sure as hell do

CG: GO ON THEN.

===

TG: …

TG: pass

CG: EXACTLY.

CG: ANYWAYS, I’M STILL GOING TO GO AROUND FEELING ANOTHER LAYER OF PITY FOR THOSE GRAY BULGEMUNCHERS THAT DON’T GET TO BE FRIENDS WITH YOU. NOT THAT ANYTHING ANY KARKAT COULD FUCKING DO WOULD EVER MAKE THEM DESERVING OF IT, BUT THAT’S ANOTHER CAN OF DIRT NOODLES ENTIRELY.

TG: yeah i feel bad for anyone who isnt buddy-buddy with the david stri too

CG: OF COURSE YOU DO. I’M GLAD WE’RE ON THE SAME PAGE HERE.

===

TG: but also

TG: any dave who missed out on a slice of the realest homes in paradox space is a tragedy in my eyes

CG: Y--

TG: let me finish

TG: i just dont let it get to me so much cus… first of all ive been having to not let time shit get to me this whole damn game but also

TG: i know i have you here and thats whats important

TG: ok not "have" just

TG: how the fuck do i phrase that

TG: i know whatever is happening with other "us"es whatever shits goin down

TG: i can wake up and watch movies with you or hell i can even hang with you in there if i bump into you and thats what matters to me in this bro-dom thats what i wanna do

TG: and thats some real shit i just said feel free to co-sign it

CG: …

===

TG: karkat i meant it

CG: … THANKS.

TG: no problem

#davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #homestuck #this is literally at the image cap i hope you all like it #comix #candid detail

[sfehvn]

home

Description: Astarion left twenty years earlier, after defeating the elder brain, in search of a cure for his vampiric condition. Tav has not been coping well. A/N: A little angsty, alcohol abuse and Tav being overly-sexual in hopes of feeling some comfort in Astarion's absence; if you aren't comfortable with that you may want to skip this one! Also eludes to Tav being a sorcerer elf, but nothing is explicitly stated. Enjoy! :) Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 2,438 Characters: Astarion x Tav

━─━────༺༻────━─━

  The gnawing sensation that remained deep-seated in your gut had all but dwindled. Nights filled with booze and meaningless sex did little to appease the hunger that twisted your insides viscerally. That damned vampire had only been in your life for but the slightest fraction. Somehow, he utterly rewired your brain's chemistry in such a minuscule time frame.

  “So that’s it then? You’re leaving after everything we’ve been through. Just like that?” The bitterness that dripped from every syllable was palpable as you spoke. An air of disgust and heartbreak hung between you and Astarion.

  He remained silent, the cogs of his mind turning while his face remained unreadable. “I will return for you, Tav. I swear it. I must do this alone.”

  The scene dissipates into the back of your otherwise empty mind. You had waited. Waited patiently for the return of your lover; spent years willfully ignorant to the fact that he had wholly left you. Two decades came and went before the realization sunk into the essence of your being. He was just gone. The many conquests that filled your bed were always reminiscent of him in at least one way, though you were never able to quench that desire. A white-haired man sits before you, telling fantastical stories, no doubt with the intention of bedding you. You would let him, of course. As he speaks, hands moving with a pristine emphasis of his tales, you can only discern the differences from your once-lover. His locks share the same silver hue but are much too short compared to Astarion’s. Soft tufts of curls are nowhere in sight; the stranger’s hair is pin-straight. The longer you listen to him speak, the more you coin him a prick. The ego wasn’t far from your lover’s, but it was without the redeeming charm you had grown to love.

  Despite all of this, you would still follow him to bed, or perhaps a latrine is more this man’s prerogative. Either way, you hoped you could squint your eyes just enough to forget the differences and see a glimpse of Astarion instead. 

  “Riveting as this conversation is,” You cut the stranger off, and your hand sits on his arm seductively. “I speculate we may get on better in private. Naked.” The pungent scent of alcohol is unmistakable. If it were a decent man before you, he may have chivalrously rejected your advances for fear of taking advantage. This was no decent man, though; he proves it by taking your hand in his and standing from the bar. You had been right about the latrine. He props you against the wall in the outhouse and has his wicked way with you. Your mind is numb as he pounds mindlessly into your mound. You squeeze your eyes shut, and try as you might, your lover is not present in the moment. Instead, you feel dirty, used, and ashamed. 

  You allow the man to finish, as it only took him a measly two minutes. You had counted. You didn’t bother faking your own orgasm. This one didn’t care. You adjusted your dress until its hem fell to your ankles. “When can I see you again?” He asks. You brush past him wordlessly. His shameless contention is not lost on you as a distasteful ‘bitch’ elicits from his mouth. You pay your tab and start your trek back home. 

  “Why, though? We’re a team! I told you I’d help you find a cure, Astarion. Please don’t leave me.” Painful tears sting at your eyes, once filled with so much sunshine and radiance. There had even been a touch of naivety to you at that time in your life.

  “I don’t want you to.” Astarion was sharp, pointed with his words. “You deserve a break. Months of leading a group of brain-wormed buffoons; you need it. It won’t take me long, and I will be back. I’ll always come back for you.” He reiterates.

  The possibility of death was not unfounded. The bitter truth was brutal to swallow but did not subdue your anger. If death were his fate, you could have saved him as you had many times before. It was entirely preventable if the case; he was just too stubborn to see it. Radiance of wealth exuded from your residence; nothing but the best for the hero of Baldur’s Gate. You scoffed. How trivial these things were when you did not have a soul to share it with. Your friends had all gone their separate ways, aside from Wyll and Karlach, who had come to find a happy union together among their time spent so closely in Avernus. Gale had forged a family with a lovely lady from Rivington and now had two children barely into adulthood, himself somewhat up there in age. Lae’Zel wasn’t the best at keeping in touch, but last you had heard, she was off kicking ass like always. Surprisingly, Shadowheart visited you as regularly as she could, but that was still seldom.

  All of your old traveling companions had gone on to do great things in their own ways. You were happy for them, you really were, but it’d be a lie if you didn’t admit there was some part of you that envied them. Envied the fulfillment they found within themselves, in the love they discovered in other people. All you had to show for yourself was a house too big for you alone to maintain and, admittedly, a bit of a drinking problem. You grumble as you fight to get the key into the lock of the front door, eager to wash the escapades from earlier off your body. 

  You slink into the tub's warm water, allowing the liquid to engulf you as you stare at the wall absently. What would you be today if Astarion was at your side? It was a question you had asked yourself a million times over. Probably not the calloused person you became. Not living off of any alcohol you could get your hands on, certainly. Recalling the abandonment made a lump rise in your throat, and you quickly choked it down. No, you would not spill another tear for the man who had left. You would not.

  You couldn’t.

  You stare at the nearly empty whiskey bottle across the room, but you are sure there is at least enough for a little glass left in it. You refrain from pulling out of the tub with the sole purpose of pouring that glass and instead scrub your body clean. Relief floods over you once you’ve successfully washed off the remnants of the stranger. His seed had stuck to your stomach like a paste when he pulled out, and the way it dried and tightened over your skin had made you want to vomit. You only exit the round tub once you’ve washed your hair. With your silk robe tied loosely around your body, chest exposed, you make a beeline for the whiskey glass that had been teasing you from across the room. A sigh of contempt leaves your mouth when a single drop drips out into your glass. You recap it and debate tossing it, but decide that will be a problem for future you. You take the candle that lit the washroom and shuffle into the hall, holding it far enough in front of you to provide adequate light through the long, dark corridor. The sound of creaking floorboards halts you in your tracks. The sound did not come from beneath your feet, but instead downstairs. Your ears strain in an attempt to make out any other noises. Another creak this time closer to the bottom of your stairs. 

  You blow out the candle and a quiet incantation for darkvision leaves your lips. There was no fear, whatever sorry bastard chose your home to break into would surely change their tune once they’re at the other end of one of your spells. Suddenly more alert and prepared for whoever emerged, you felt yourself sober as the adrenaline coursed your veins. As quickly as you’re able to make out a faint silhouette bounding up the stairs, another hymn leaves your lips. 

  “Ignis.” 

  A firebolt protrudes from the palm of your outstretched hand, bounding quicker for the stranger than they can respond. A searing sounds as it bores straight through the uninvited guest’s clothing, sizzling with now charred flesh. They groan in agony, the silhouette clutching at their injured chest. “You’re quite lucky I like a good chat, or you’d be dead already. Who are you and why are you in my home?” Your voice was unwavering and void of any emotion other than conviction. 

  “Well, I’d be lying if I say I’m surprised. I do suppose I set myself up for this one, darling. Always the sharp-shooter, you are.” The man attempts a laugh, but it’s lost under the pain in his voice. That voice.

  His voice.

  Forgotten under a sea of other voices, but you place his cadence immediately. You want to run to him, feel the way his arms fit so naturally around your body, let your lips fall upon his. Your first instincts are quickly replaced with anger. Betrayal. You wanted to hurl another firebolt at him; hells, a fireball would’ve been better but you bite it back. You were angry, but becoming homeless after burning your home down was not something you were prepared to deal with. With a small flick of your wrist, you light the sconces that line the hall and you’re met with the illuminated sight of Astarion. He looks not a day older from the last time you had seen him, dare you say he looked even better.

  There’s a tinge of color to his flesh, like he’d been kissed by the morning sun many days over. There was a pink hugh to his skin, reminiscent of fresh blood pumping from a beating heart. Your own skips a beat at the picture of him before you. He was alive. Alive alive. Gone are the ruby-red eyes you had grown to love, replaced with eyes as golden as fresh honey shimmering in the light. You chew the inside of your cheek in an attempt to fight back your tears. Your face remains unchanged despite the flurry of emotions assaulting your brain and heart. “Why are you in my home?” You repeat, as if you had no recollection of the man before you. 

  Astarion’s features reflect the hurt that he feels from your reaction but quickly he masks it. “Not exactly the welcome-home I was imagining, if I’m telling the truth. This is quite the place you’ve got. I’m pleasantly shocked at how well of a job you did decorating, dear. Though I will probably have to make a few adjustments-”

  “Twenty years.” You whisper incredulously, cutting Astarion from his rambling stupor.

  “I’m sorry?” 

  “Twenty years, Astarion!” You shout. You’re no longer able to hold back the floodgates in your eyes. They prick unforgivingly, threatening to pool over onto flushed cheeks. “Twenty years you were gone! And here you are, acting like nothing happened; acting like not a day has passed since we’ve last spoke!” You wipe the tears from your face, angrily laughing that your emotions had betrayed you so. “You don’t even know who I am anymore and you think for a second I’ll allow you in a position to hurt me again?” 

  Astarion is taken aback by the furious passion that laces your every word. The wound he had been nursing with his hand is abandoned as he attempts to step closer, but you take a swift step back. “It had to be done, Tav. The journey to get where I am today was an arduous one. One that I was not willing to ask you to take with me.”

  Your jaw clenches, and there’s no time to collect yourself before you respond. “You didn’t have to ask. I told you I would have followed you through the hells if it meant being with you.” You practically spit the words. 

  “I wouldn’t allow that.”

  “Gods, Astarion! Are you so dense that you don’t see it wasn’t your decision to make regarding what is best for me?” The venom is thick in your tone. “Maybe I would be some semblance of the same person you abandoned all those years ago if I had at least gotten to say goodbye. Perhaps if you had sent a letter I’d be a little more forthcoming with you right now.” 

  “It was not my intention to abandon you.” He quips back, but sees it was the wrong thing to say as the fire burns brighter behind your eyes. “Against my better judgement I guess that is what I did. Only because I couldn’t fathom saying goodbye to you. I-” He pauses for a beat. “I thought it may make things easier on you, too.”

  The laugh that leaves your mouth was a chortle, filled with malice and sarcasm. You grasped for anyway to hurt him in the way he hurt you, “Well you ruined me, Astarion.”

  “I did not, you look-”

  “Looks are deceiving. I would figure you know that by now. For example, just by looking at me you probably can’t tell I drank my weight in whiskey today. Or yesterday. Or the day before.” You purse your lips. “You probably can’t tell that I allowed a bastard of a man to open my legs and fuck me simply because he shared your hair color just earlier in the evening. Or that a tenday ago I fucked another man who’s laugh almost made me believe you were there. Only for a moment, of course.” There was shame in your words and you wanted to cry harder as you voiced all of the ways you had failed to care for yourself. The desire to make him feel what you felt was too great. You wanted him to hate you the way you had grown to despise him.

  His arms pulled you firmly against him, his head ducking to bury his face into your wet hair. You soften under his touch, allowing yourself to go limp as he holds you. Guilt eats at Astarion’s subconscious as you cry into his shirt. It didn’t matter if you tried to push him away. It didn’t matter what you had done to cope with his absence. He was home and he was going to prove to you that he was not going anywhere ever again. Everything he had gone through in the past twenty years, he had powered through with the thought of making it home.

  You were his home.

#astarion x reader #ascended astarion #ascended!astarion x reader #tav #reader #ascended!astarion x tav #bg3 #astarion #astarion x tav #x reader

[creature-wizard]

Check your conspiracy theory part two: double, double, boil and trouble

Does your conspiracy theory sound something like this?

There is a large number of people who practice a form of religion that demands animal and human sacrifices.

Their practices can be traced all the way back to ancient times.

They are responsible for many mysterious murders, disappearances, and animal deaths.

They especially prey on children, or require children for certain rituals.

Their rituals include immoral sexual activities.

They practice ritual cannibalism.

They use something from the victims' bodies for medicinal or mystical purposes.

They regularly cast curses.

They have special means of manipulating or controlling people's minds.

Strange medical and psychological symptoms are evidence that one has been targeted or tortured by these people.

Their rituals and holidays are viscerally disgusting mockeries of normal, wholesome rituals and holidays. Feces, urine, and blood are often involved.

Members are severely punished (physically and psychologically) for transgressions.

Members are frequently driven to suicide.

Members often lead double lives, often seeming to be good law-abiding citizens to the public.

There are numerous telltale signs that give their allegiance away; EG, strange body markings or owning things that could be used in rituals.

If evidence can't be found, it's because they have ways of hiding it.

They have ways of traveling and transporting victims to seemingly improbable locations with no one noticing.

They might believe themselves to be worshiping pagan gods, but it's actually a satanic deception.

All of these claims go back to early modern witch panic and blood libel. (There is significant overlap between these things.) You can find this kind of stuff claimed in literature like the Malleus Malificarum, A Discovery of Witches (the one by Matthew Hopkins), and the Compendium Maleficarum. You can also find information on the history of blood libel over here.

#conspiracy theories #conspiracy theory #conspiracism #witch panic #witch hunt #witch hunts #antisemitism #satanic panic #nwo #new world order #illuminati #the illuminati #one world government

[literary-illuminati]

Main takeaways of American Psycho so far

the constant use of slurs and visceral disgust for, well, everyone but especially anyone even slightly gay and/or nonwhite absolutely fits the character but does make how often more modern works kind of censor/softpedal their villains (even the ones whose bigotry is, like, their defining characteristic) stand out a lot more.

The running gag of how all the super expensive meals sound just disgusting when you actually think about them for a second is great.

the fact that Bateman absolutely idolizes and implicitly trusts the opinions of Donald Trump in all things has became hilariously more on the nose since publication.

#american psycho #literature #brett easton ellis #tht

[haggishlyhagging]

It took about two hours for Daina Taimina to find the solution that had eluded mathematicians for over a century. It was 1997, and the Latvian mathematician was participating in a geometry workshop at Cornell University. David Henderson, the professor leading the workshop, was modelling a hyperbolic plane constructed out of thin, circular strips of paper taped together. 'It was disgusting,' laughed Taimina in an interview.

A hyperbolic plane is 'the geometric opposite' of a sphere, explains Henderson in an interview with arts and culture magazine Cabinet. 'On a sphere, the surface curves in on itself and is closed. A hyperbolic plane is a surface in which the space curves away from itself at every point.' It exists in nature in ruffled lettuce leaves, in coral leaf, in sea slugs, in cancer cells. Hyperbolic geometry is used by statisticians when they work with multidimensional data, by Pixar animators when they want to simulate realistic cloth, by auto-industry engineers to design aerodynamic cars, by acoustic engineers to design concert halls. It's the foundation of the theory of relativity, and thus the closest thing we have to an understanding of the shape of the universe. In short, hyperbolic space is a pretty big deal.

But for thousands of years, hyperbolic space didn't exist. At least it didn't according to mathematicians, who believed that there were only two types of space: Euclidean, or flat space, like a table, and spherical space, like a ball. In the nineteenth century, hyperbolic space was discovered - but only in principle. And although mathematicians tried for over a century to find a way to successfully represent this space physically, no one managed it - until Taimina attended that workshop at Cornell. Because as well as being a professor of mathematics, Taimina also liked to crochet.

Taimina learnt to crochet as a schoolgirl. Growing up in Latvia, part of the former Soviet Union, 'you fix your own car, you fix your own faucet - anything', she explains. 'When I was growing up, knitting or any other handiwork meant you could make a dress or a sweater different from everybody else's.' But while she had always seen patterns and algorithms in knitting and crochet, Taimina had never connected this traditional, domestic, feminine skill with her professional work in maths. Until that workshop in 1997. When she saw the battered paper approximation Henderson was using to explain hyperbolic space, she realised: I can make this out of crochet.

And so that's what she did. She spent her summer 'crocheting a classroom set of hyperbolic forms' by the swimming pool. 'People walked by, and they asked me, "What are you doing?" And I answered, "Oh, I'm crocheting the hyperbolic plane."' She has now created hundreds of models and explains that in the process of making them 'you get a very concrete sense of the space expanding exponentially. The first rows take no time but the later rows can take literally hours, they have so many stitches. You get a visceral sense of what "hyperbolic" really means.' Just looking at her models did the same for others: in an interview with the New York Times Taimina recalled a professor who had taught hyperbolic space for years seeing one and saying, 'Oh, so that's how they look.' Now her creations are the standard model for explaining hyperbolic space.

-Caroline Criado Perez, Invisible Women

Photo credit

#caroline criado perez #Daina Taimina #women in stem #women’s history #women in science #crochet #crocheting #female mathematicians #hyperbolic space

[teamatsumu]

Can I please request rekindling a relationship with ex-boyfriend Atsumu who is a total ass man? (He can't stop touching, fondling reader 's ass.)

one day. (miya atsumu x fem!reader)

word count: 755

warnings: post-break up. sexual language but no explicit smut. swearing. osamu is there. slight angst if you squint. nsfw. mdni.

Taglist: @keiva1000

Atsumu should have known that even after breaking up with you, your presence in his life would be inevitable. After all, you had been childhood friends, and while your relationship had soured and fizzled months ago, you were still very, very close to Osamu, and no beef with Atsumu could stop you from seeing his twin.

So Atsumu had gotten used to walking into Onigiri Miya and seeing you perched on a stool at the counter, deep in conversation with Osamu who was carefully shaping onigiri for you. You were just as much a fan of his brother’s food as he was, maybe an even more enthusiastic supporter. Osamu often called you his little “taste tester”, and Atsumu would make a sleazy joke in your ear about how he was your taste tester, in that he would bury his head between your thighs to taste y-

You would always smack him before he could finish.

Ah well, those days were long gone. You weren’t interested in anything he had to say anymore, which Atsumu thought was karma for the last few weeks of your relationship, when he had started missing all your calls, messages, dates. After the fight that led to your breakup, which was filled with your teary complaints about how he had no time for you at all, Atsumu wondered if his volleyball career just left no room for him to date. But then he would look at Meian, who had a whole wife, and think that maybe it was just him. He just didn’t know how to maintain a relationship.

That didn’t stop him from hesitating now, catching sight of you in conversation with his brother, your arms folded on the counter before you with your torso leaning forward, and Atsumu’s gaze was immediately beckoned down to your-

Fuck.

Those were his favorite pair of jeans on you.

You had gotten them when he took you birthday shopping, and Atsumu had been enamored with them the minute you tried them on. High waisted and tight, they hugged your ass deliciously, so much that Atsumu had insisted he buy them for you, later using that as an excuse to bend you over the nearest surface any time you wore them and having his way with you. This couldn’t be a coincidence now, why would you wear them today? To come to Onigiri Miya? Where you knew you would likely run into him? Atsumu’s jaw clenched at the thought and he stepped further into the shop, finally catching your and his brother’s attention.

“Finally. What’s the point of making ya fresh onigiri if ya won’t show up on time?” Osamu scowled at him, but Atsumu paid him no mind, catching your eye and giving you a smirk.

“Nice ass.” He quipped, making you roll your eyes and turn back to your own plate, but Atsumu caught the tips of your ears turning red, making him grin. Victory.

“You’re disgusting, Miya.” You replied, voice low before you took another bite. Atsumu settled into the stool next to you.

“Ya never minded that when we were datin’. In fact, I still remember the sweet sounds ya made-”

“Shut up.” You glared at him, while Osamu made a disgusted face, saying something along the lines of ‘not in front of the food’. Neither of you reacted too viscerally though. Atsumu’s foul language was nothing new. You might have broken up with him, but you both knew he still liked you, and he would never stop flirting. That was his way of saying he wasn’t giving up on you.

Deep down, Atsumu knew you liked it. So when Osamu turned his back to search for something behind him, Atsumu leaned close to you, lips brushing your ear.

“Why’d ya wear those jeans, doll? Temptin’ me to bend ya over this counter?”

You dug your elbow into his side to push him away a bit. “In your dreams.”

Atsumu hummed, no longer resisting the urge to reach down and give your ass an appreciative squeeze. You jumped a bit, turning to glare at him. “Ya really don’t wanna know what goes on in my dreams, sweetcheeks.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes, but Atsumu caught the corners of your lips, fighting to hold back a smile. He sighed as Osamu placed a plate of food in front of him, not bothering to bite back his own smile. You still loved him, deep down, Atsumu was sure, and he was determined to make you his again one day.

One day.

#miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #miya atsumu x you #miya atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu fluff #miya atsumu angst #miya atsumu fanfiction #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu fanfic

[foulwaterss]

Hey hun! Here come a request! Headcanons about Sukuna’s possessive/protective side when his s/o gets accidentally hurt during a battle!! Thank you ❤️

Warnings: Slight mentions of injury/blood, hurt, comfort, fluff, angst, Sukuna being our emotionally constipated/complicated king ♡

AU: Where Sukuna and the reader are in a romantic relationship, they live together in their shared apartment, and they're overall happy together, trying to live peaceful lives. The reader has no specific gender.

Protective!Sukuna, who always pretends and tries his hardest not to care or show anything when it comes to his feelings, as he finds small things like that insignificant and a sign of weakness. But when you come to the front door of your shared apartment after a confrontation with a cursed spirit far more stronger and superior to you, leaving you with a deep gash on the side of your arm and many scrapes and bruises along your tiny frame, he can't help but let the strong wall he had built to barricade his feelings crumble down and immediately rush to your aid.

Protective!Sukuna, whose eyes and whole expression will soften ever so slightly as he lays you down on his couch without a word, shushing you gently as you occasionally whine out from the pain of your wounds, getting up to grab a first aid kit, some water, bandages, oh- and his sweater to lay under your head for some extra support.

Protective!Sukuna, who will gently clean your wounds, holding your arm where most of the damage was, keeping it still while he washed it so it didn't get infected. The feeling of the liquid he used to clean you up on your raw and exposed skin hurt like hell, it burned beyond any amount of pain you had ever experienced, he would simply continue cleansing and patching you up with a concerned and intense look, carefully wrapping your arm up with white bandages.

Protective!Sukuna, who will (as soon as he's done fixing you back up) immediately move to kneel beside you on the couch, carefully cupping the side of your face with his hand, searching your eyes with concern before finally speaking.

"Tell me, how did this happen?" He spoke calmly and quietly, using his other hand to move some stray pieces of hair from your eyes.

Sukuna would sit there beside you and listen carefully as you explained what had happened, and your whole interaction with the cursed spirit. It made him feel a visceral rage on the inside, hearing you describe the cursed spirit in detail, and what it had done to you. He wished he could've been there to destroy the creature that would dare to stand in the way of the one person he cared about in this disgusting, rotten world.

Protective!Sukuna, who will continue to stroke your hair gently as you start to drift off, feeling exhausted from today's events. But before falling into a deep sleep, you spoke in a quiet and small voice.

"Thank you, Sukuna. I love you." You utter a small smile.

Sukuna doesn't respond, he simply looks down at you with that adoring look in his eyes. After a few moments of comfortable silence, he finally spoke.

"I love you too, (y/n), is there anything I can get you? Are you hungry?" His tone was so gentle, and his words were thoughtful.

When you didn't respond for a good 5 seconds, he looked down at you, realizing you had fallen asleep, softly snoring. He chuckled to himself slightly, finding it cute that you had passed out from your sheer exhaustion, slowly pulling a blanket over your body, then planting a kiss on your cheek and forehead.

"Rest well, my love." He said before turning the lights off with a small smile, disappearing into the kitchen to prepare your favorite dish for when you woke up, knowing very well that you'd be hungry.

♡♡♡

Notes: Hey anon! I love this idea so much, thank you so much for submitting this request! This is my first time writing a request from someone, so I hope it's not too awful 😭. Anyway, I had so much fun writing this, I hope you enjoyed reading it! :)

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna #sukuna x reader #angst #fluff #comfort #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #fanfic #headcanon