#pulled the rest of these off the wiki and like. !!!!!

[webslingingslasher]

ughhhh peter always being so oblivious. can’t even listen to his girlfriend when she’s right in front of him, practically begging him 😡 loved your most recent story 🩷🩷 (still can’t believe there’s finally a pink heart emoji)

was this supposed to be angsty? too bad, it's smutty.

*suggestive behavior and words, no real depictions of sex, sorry kiddos.

‘How do you tell someone you want them?’ No, no, wait… ‘How do you tell your boyfriend you want him?’ 

Wiki-how says to flirt with them, been there done that, message not received. 

Teen Vogue just wants to give you ways to say ‘I love you,’ you’ve tried that too, you just get a declaration back. 

Cosmopolitan says to be bold, ‘I want you inside of me,’ is a direct quote. Bold, sure. But with Peter? You’d think he’d collapse. 

On Quora someone took the bullet, ‘how do I let my boyfriend know I want him to touch me?’ Ah, there it was, someone had to have a good answer. A man in his forties says dirty talk, your nose wrinkles. A young mom says, ‘just like that!’ An anonymous reply said to initiate fist, touch them where you want to be touched, but you can’t exactly squeeze Peter’s boobs. 

You wonder if you told Ned he’d tell Peter, you can imagine that conversation. 

‘Bro, Y/N just told me she wants you to like… use her body as a wonderland.” 

“A what?” 

Yeah, not a good idea either. 

Even with a boyfriend, a super hot, charming, smart boyfriend, you were going to die a virgin. 

Every attempt has fallen short, no matter how close you think you are from him finally getting the hint. Last week you had him between your legs, wrapped tight around his hips as you grinded up towards him, mouths refusing to break. And then, right when he finally, finally, moved his hips with yours and you moaned he pulled away and rolled off of you. That quick too, talk about a cold shower. 

“Do you want me to show you how to do that thing now?” He was panting still, he looked over you flushed out and almost pulled himself back in, too dangerous, he had to use self control. Peter uses what strength he had to get off the bed, he’s already going to his computer, you didn’t get a choice, he chose for you, if he had asked you would’ve asked to ride his thigh. 

“I’d rather you show me what your hands could do,” you mumble under your breath, you want to scream into his pillow and then hump it, does he not feel how frustrated you are? Peter hears you, he gives a chuckle, “they can help you is what, come watch,” he pats his arm rest on the chair. 

You follow his instructions, still grumpy. “I’d rather they help me in a different way,” Peter flashes you a nervous smile, you make him lose his grip on reality. He makes sure you're watching as he clicks around, he’s giving you instruction but all you can think about is his hard thigh underneath you, his grip is tight around your waist, his palm that rests over your shirt radiates heat to the skin underneath. He’s driving you crazy. 

You can’t help it anymore, you have to be blunt, it will be awkward for a second but so, so worth it in the end. “Peter, I want to-” A squeeze, an apology when his phone rings. Only three people call him, Ned, May and you, seeing as you’re on his lap that leaves two options. 

“Hey, May. Oh yeah, no I don’t think so. Um, sure. Well, he didn’t say much but he did want, no, go ahead.” You look at the ceiling and curse, Peter’s thumb brushes your hip, he’s giving teasing touches and doesn’t even know it. “I dunno, hold on let me ask,” he pulls the phone from his ear, “baby?” You look at him, “staying for dinner?” You nod, he grins, “yeah she will… okay, yes ma’am, no problem. Okay, okay, okay, alright, okay, love you too, bye.” 

“Is she at the store?” 

“Yeah, think of anything you need?” 

He clicks at the screen, “yeah, condoms.” 

You jolt at his laugh, his chest pressed tight against your back, Peter snorts, “why would you need those?” 

You stay silent and instead look at the screen and wait for him to continue his lesson, the bubble of want simmering.

—-------------------------------------

“Are you okay?” 

Peter has to literally hold you back by your shoulders, he’s gasping for air, his curls frizzy and pulled around, his shirt unbuttoned three down from the top. You attacked him the second you got into his room, nearly throwing him onto the bed before straddling him and marking your territory. 

You had been at it for a half hour, everytime he tried to stop you’d follow his movements and continue, he had no idea how you were keeping your breath. The only time he remembers you pulling away was to tug your shirt over your head before you immediately unbuttoned his collar and kissed down his neck. 

“‘M great, are you?” you’re just as breathless as him. 

He nods, “‘M good.” 

You smile, “great!” Then go to meet his mouth, Peter turns his head at the last second, you connect with his jaw, you frown but accept any skin, you trail sideways and down, sucking at a spot near his collarbone. One hand grips your hip, one settles on your ribcage. He grunts and you skim your lips back to his mouth, he’s slower this time, like he’s trying to edge you down carefully, you don’t accept the change of rules and open into his mouth, he wont talk the bait. 

You try again, you swipe at his bottom lip, he stays closed. Frustrated you grind down on him, he buckles but refuses to open his own mouth, last resort you bite down on his lip. 

Peter pushes you off, “fuck, you’re insatiable.” 

You look down on him, “why won’t you make out with me?” 

His cheeks are pink, his lips are red and swollen, his pupils are blown out. 

“You’re killin me, smalls.” Peter’s hands come to a rest on his stomach, they rise and fall with his breaths, “no matter what I do you want more.” 

You nod enthusiastically, he’s starting to understand. 

“Yes, so yes. What can you give me?” 

His eyebrows furrow, he doesn’t know what you want. 

“I don’t… what do you want?” 

You grind down on his belt line, his hands shoot to your hips, this was new territory. You’ve just started to grind on him the past week and he still can’t fully process it, he’s never had a feeling like it before and he knows that he’s gonna get a hard on if you keep doing that, and that’s really new territory. 

“Baby,” he groans the word but it’s a warning. 

“This, can I have this?” You try to move again but his hold stops you, he’s using too much strength. 

Peter doesn’t want to rush you, not at all. But these last few weeks have been hard, you’ve been much more open with your words and touches and god it kills him. He’s been thinking about sex, how could he not with you all over him, but he needs to hold out strength for the both of you, and god damn if you don’t make that difficult. 

“If you keep doing that do you know what will happen?” 

Are you okay with this, is what he means, because if you go down this path there’s no coming back, it’s a whole new step, he’s okay with that but are you? 

You tilt your head at him, “I’ll cum?” 

Peter exhales through his nose harshly, his voice pinchy, “jesus christ.” 

“Is it okay if I take my bra off?” Your fingers were already behind your back, he’s been lucky enough to see them a few times but not in a situation like this one where he could get to inspect them and enjoy it. “If you want, but you don’t-” he stops speaking when you toss your bra to the ground. 

“Wanna take your pants off?” 

He looks at you, he’s fully clothed almost while you’re now sitting on top of him with only panties on, how did he get here? No pants means no more barriers, you wanted to feel him, all of him, when you dry humped him. 

“Do you want my pants off?” 

How does he not get it? You’re more than half naked on his lap begging for his touch, what did he think you wanted, a milkshake? 

“Peter, where’s your mind at?” 

“With what?” 

You rub your eyes, frustration would do no good here. “I need to know where you’re at with this, cause i’ve tried everything to make it known you make me really fucking horny.” His eyes widened, it was like he had a revelation of ‘girls can be horny too?’ and yeah, he did know that they could but he never imagined he could make someone horny, even if it was his girlfriend. And maybe he did understand a little of what you wanted but he also thought you were joking, that you were hinting at a hookup teasingly but, no you were serious. 

“I do?” 

Well that didn’t sound good, did he not share the same feelings? 

“I… Peter, do I even turn you on?”

The room spins, you’re on your back in a second, Peter holds your forearms to the bed. You couldn’t even take a breath in, that’s how quick he pinned you. He didn’t want you to think, for even a second, you didn’t turn him on. 

“Don’t ever ask that again, you turn me on more than you could even begin to imagine.” 

You giggle, “oh, do I? How much?” 

He kisses your cheek, “cold shower every time you leave.” 

“Then how come I never feel you get hard?” 

Peter takes his turn kissing down your neck, he nibbles a matching mark to his on your collarbone. “Threw you off before you could.” 

You hum when he nuzzles into your neck, he places a kiss to your cheek, you look at him over you. 

“Does that mean you’ll take off your pants?” 

He laughs, “yeah, baby. I’ll take off my pants.” 

Peter sits back to pull his shirt off, you take a moment to appreciate his body. You always feel like you don’t compliment him enough, “you’re pretty,” the words fall from your lips and he grins shyly, his hands working at pants button, he’s about to shimmy them off but you stop him. 

“Wait!” 

Peter’s hands freeze, you nod at his hands, “can I do it?” 

His hands fall away and you reach forward, tension thick the second you start to undress him. You never knew how heavy a moment could be until you had your hands in your boyfriend's waistline tugging them down, knowing it was so you could sit pretty on top of him and rock on his lap. 

You rope a leg over his waist and take mount, already pressing into him further than you’ve ever been, you give a teasing roll of your hips, your eyes shoot open and Peter throws his head back with a groan. 

You whisper at the same time, minds blown. “Woah.” 

#peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #tasm! peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #tasm!peter smut #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker fluff #my writing

[mostlysignssomeportents]

End of the line for corporate sovereignty

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me next weekend (Mar 30/31) in ANAHEIM at WONDERCON, then in Boston with Randall "XKCD" Munroe (Apr 11), then Providence (Apr 12), and beyond!

Back in the 1950s, a new, democratically elected Iranian government nationalized foreign oil interests. The UK and the US then backed a coup, deposing the progressive government with one more hospitable to foreign corporations:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nationalization_of_the_Iranian_oil_industry

This nasty piece of geopolitical skullduggery led to the mother-of-all-blowbacks: the Anglo-American puppet regime was toppled by the Ayatollah and his cronies, who have led Iran ever since.

For the US and the UK, the lesson was clear: they needed a less kinetic way to ensure that sovereign countries around the world steered clear of policies that undermined the profits of their oil companies and other commercial giants. Thus, the "investor-state dispute settlement" (ISDS) was born.

The modern ISDS was perfected in the 1990s with the Energy Charter Treaty (ECT). The ECT was meant to foam the runway for western corporations seeking to take over ex-Soviet energy facilities, by making those new post-Glasnost governments promise to never pass laws that would undermine foreign companies' profits.

But as Nick Dearden writes for Jacobin, the western companies that pushed the east into the ECT failed to anticipate that ISDSes have their own form of blowback:

https://jacobin.com/2024/03/energy-charter-treaty-climate-change/

When the 2000s rolled around and countries like the Netherlands and Denmark started to pass rules to limit fossil fuels and promote renewables, German coal companies sued the shit out of these governments and forced them to either back off on their democratically negotiated policies, or to pay gigantic settlements to German corporations.

ISDS settlements are truly grotesque: they're not just a matter of buying out existing investments made by foreign companies and refunding them money spent on them. ISDS tribunals routinely order governments to pay foreign corporations all the profits they might have made from those investments.

For example, the UK company Rockhopper went after Italy for limiting offshore drilling in response to mass protests, and took $350m out of the Italian government. Now, Rockhopper only spent $50m on Adriatic oil exploration – the other $300m was to compensate Rockhopper for the profits it might have made if it actually got to pump oil off the Italian coast.

Governments, both left and right, grew steadily more outraged that ISDSes tied the hands of democratically elected lawmakers and subordinated their national sovereignty to corporate sovereignty. By 2023, nine EU countries were ready to pull out of the ECT.

But the ECT had another trick up its sleeve: a 20-year "sunset" clause that bound countries to go on enforcing the ECT's provisions – including ISDS rulings – for two decades after pulling out of the treaty. This prompted European governments to hit on the strategy of a simultaneous, mass withdrawal from the ECT, which would prevent companies registered in any of the ex-ECT countries from suing under the ECT.

It will not surprise you to learn that the UK did not join this pan-European coalition to wriggle out of the ECT. On the one hand, there's the Tories' commitment to markets above all else (as the Trashfuture podcast often points out, the UK government is the only neoliberal state so committed to austerity that it's actually dismantling its own police force). On the other hand, there's Rishi Sunak's planet-immolating promise to "max out North Sea oil."

But as the rest of the world transitions to renewables, different blocs in the UK – from unions to Tory MPs – are realizing that the country's membership in ECT and its fossil fuel commitment is going to make it a world leader in an increasingly irrelevant boondoggle – and so now the UK is also planning to pull out of the ECT.

As Dearden writes, the oil-loving, market-worshipping UK's departure from the ECT means that the whole idea of ISDSes is in danger. After all, some of the world's poorest countries are also fed up to the eyeballs with ISDSes and threatening to leave treaties that impose them.

One country has already pulled out: Honduras. Honduras is home to Prospera, a libertarian autonomous zone on the island of Roatan. Prospera was born after a US-backed drug kingpin named Porfirio Lobo Sosa overthrew the democratic government of Manuel Zelaya in 2009.

The Lobo Sosa regime established a system of special economic zones (known by their Spanish acronym, "ZEDEs"). Foreign investors who established a ZEDE would be exempted from Honduran law, allowing them to create "charter cities" with their own private criminal and civil code and tax system.

This was so extreme that the Honduran supreme court rejected the plan, so Lobo Sosa fired the court and replaced them with cronies who'd back his play.

A group of crypto bros capitalized on this development, using various ruses to establish a ZEDE on the island of Roatan, a largely English-speaking, Afro-Carribean island known for its marine reserve, its SCUBA diving, and its cruise ship port. This "charter city" included every bizarre idea from the long history of doomed "libertarian exit" projects, so ably recounted in Raymond Craib's excellent 2022 book Adventure Capitalism:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/14/this-way-to-the-egress/#terra-nullius

Right from the start, Prospera was ill starred. Paul Romer, the Nobel-winning economist most closely associated with the idea of charter cities, disavowed the project. Locals hated it – the tourist shops and restaurants on Roatan all may sport dusty "Bitcoin accepted here" signs, but not one of those shops takes cryptocurrency.

But the real danger to Prospera came from democracy itself. When Xiomara Castro – wife of Manuel Zelaya – was elected president in 2021, she announced an end to the ZEDE program. Prospera countered by suing Honduras under the ISDS provisions of the Central America Free Trade Agreements, seeking $10b, a third of the country's GDP.

In response, President Castro announced her country's departure from CAFTA, and the World Bank's International Centre for Settlement of Investment Disputes:

https://theintercept.com/2024/03/19/honduras-crypto-investors-world-bank-prospera/

An open letter by progressive economists in support of President Castro condemns ISDSes for costing latinamerican countries $30b in corporate compensation, triggered by laws protecting labor rights, vulnerable ecosystems and the climate:

https://progressive.international/wire/2024-03-18-economists-the-era-of-corporate-supremacy-in-the-international-trade-system-is-coming-to-an-end/en

As Ryan Grim writes for The Intercept, the ZEDE law is wildly unpopular with the Honduran people, and Merrick Garland called the Lobo Sosa regime that created it "a narco-state where violent drug traffickers were allowed to operate with virtual impunity":

https://theintercept.com/2024/03/19/honduras-crypto-investors-world-bank-prospera/

The world's worst people are furious and terrified about Honduras's withdrawal from its ISDS. After 60+ years of wrapping democracy in chains to protect corporate profits, the collapse of the corporate kangaroo courts that override democratic laws represents a serious threat to oligarchy.

As Dearden writes, "elsewhere in the world, ISDS cases have been brought specifically on the basis that governments have not done enough to suppress protest movements in the interests of foreign capital."

It's not just poor countries in the global south, either. When Australia passed a plain-packaging law for tobacco, Philip Morris relocated offshore in order to bring an ISDS case against the Australian government in a bid to remove impediments to tobacco sales:

https://isds.bilaterals.org/?philip-morris-vs-australia-isds

And in 2015, the WTO sanctioned the US government for its "dolphin-safe" tuna labeling, arguing that this eroded the profits of corporations that fished for tuna in ways that killed a lot of dolphins:

https://theintercept.com/2015/11/24/wto-ruling-on-dolphin-safe-tuna-labeling-illustrates-supremacy-of-trade-agreements/

In Canada, the Conservative hero Steven Harper entered into the Canada-China Foreign Investment Promotion and Protection Agreement, which banned Canada from passing laws that undermined the profits of Chinese corporations for 31 years (the rule expires in 2045):

https://www.vancouverobserver.com/news/harper-oks-potentially-unconstitutional-china-canada-fipa-deal-coming-force-october-1

Harper's successor, Justin Trudeau, went on to sign the Canada-EU Trade Agreement that Harper negotiated, including its ISDS provisions that let EU corporations override Canadian laws:

https://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/trudeau-eu-parliament-schulz-ceta-1.3415689

There was a time when any challenge to ISDS was a political third rail. Back in 2015, even hinting that ISDSes should be slightly modified would send corporate thinktanks into a frenzy:

https://www.techdirt.com/2015/07/20/eu-proposes-to-reform-corporate-sovereignty-slightly-us-think-tank-goes-into-panic-mode/

But over the years, there's been a growing consensus that nations can only be sovereign if corporations aren't. It's one thing to treat corporations as "persons," but another thing altogether to elevate them above personhood and subordinate entire nations to their whims.

With the world's richest countries pulling out of ISDSes alongside the world's poorest ones, it's feeling like the end of the road for this particularly nasty form of corporate corruption.

And not a moment too soon.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/27/korporate-kangaroo-kourts/#corporate-sovereignty

Image: ChrisErbach (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:UnitedNations_GeneralAssemblyChamber.jpg

CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #isds #investor state dispute settlement #steven harper #canada #canpoli #ukpoli #honduras #prospera #roatan #Energy Charter Treaty #ect #eu #rockhopper #world bank #charter cities #cryptocurrency #libertarian exit #Xiomara Castro

[tryingtofindava]

Do you write for Liu? If so, what are your hcs for dating him?

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐥 𝐋𝐢𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬*ೃ༄

: ̗̀➛Back to source

a/n: starting 2024 w Liu and Sully lolz

This boy has probably has little to nonexistent experiences with dating (minus like maybe dating one or two girls in high school), and it fucking shows. He’s an absolute nervous wreck lol.

I’m gonna be COMPLETELY honest with ya here babes, but literally NOBODY saw you two becoming a thing.

“No one will believe us when we turn up together.”

“You know I love to shock people, so this will be great.”

He wants to escalate the relationship, but he doesn’t know how without making him seem like a desperate loser.

Cute little dates involve quieter and more intimate settings where he feels more comfortable in less crowded areas.

So maybe a trip to the library during its quieter hours or just wandering around the most scenic parts of the woods.

His love languages are: words of affirmation, gift giving, quality time and acts of service. So basically all of them except physical touch.

Speaking of physical touch, he isn’t against holding hands on kissing, he’s just not all that into PDA. He’s a snuggle bug behind closed doors tho :)

Words of Affirmation: Since he’s self conscious about the stitches (which have been in since 2011 take ‘em out girly) and scarring that litters his body to remind him of the past. He likes when you mutter sweet nothings in his ear. Tell him he’s pretty, he’ll melt.

Gift giving: HDJDBJDBXHDJ HE MAKES YOU CUTE LITTLE POEMS AND HAND WRITING NOTES ITS HONESTLY LIKE THEM TIKTOKS U SEE WHERE THEY PULL IT OPEN AND IT JUST KEEPS GOING AND GOING.

Quality time: Just being near each, not talking just comfortable silence as you guys just do your own things. As long as you’re near, he’ll be alright. He treasures these moments between you two w his heart and soul.

Acts of service: he’ll bring you you’re favourite snacks, and helping you out when you’re struggling with whatever (bad mindset, chores, etc…)

The first he held hands w you, it’s a nervous yet heart warming moment to see, he’s such a cutie patootie.

Now it’s time for Sully lolz…

On the creepypasta wiki it quote on quote says: ‘He holds some consideration and feelings for Liu himself since they share a body and he refrains from killing anyone Liu cares about due to 'Not wanting to make Liu depressed.’’

SO YOU’RE SORTA SAFE FROM HARMS WAY!! :D

Sully’s the type of mf to randomly flick you on the forehead and laugh a smidge before going back to being all Batman-y and brooding.

And depending on his mood, he might act sorta lovey dovey. Might.

The most you’ll get his maybe a arm around the shoulder. Maybe.

“On a scale from one to ten, how bad do you think it would be if-“

“At least a twenty.”

He will maybe let you rest on him tho. But if anyone was to walk in, you’ll get a slight nudge off.

He’s deffo the more jealous and possessive one, especially around Jeff lol. He’s not letting that Heath Ledger joker lookin mf getting ANYWHERE near you.

✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta reader #liu woods x reader #homicidal liu x reader #sully creepypasta #creepypasta x you #creepypasta sully x reader #liu woods x you #creepypasta x y/n #creepy pasta x reader hc #creepypasta x female reader

[cerastes]

Do paragraph breaks, you fucking assholes, this block of text is as appealing to read as getting my dick sawed off with a jagged, rusty spoon.

Here’s a summary:

Bitch starts as a spy, you have to reveal its identity before you can start slapping it. Also it deals Corrosion damage. Game tells you who it is, though, with its big invuln gold rays.

At half HP phase 1, summons an Isoblahblah A ‘CLONE’, it’s a ‘clone’ that shares HP total and stats with the “original”. It’s in two places at once. It’s another instance of the boss. That’s what that clumsy mess is trying to convey. The ‘clone’ will enter as a spy, and all instances of Cluster are invulnerable until all instances are no longer spies.

Derivative Iteration: This is just all instances of Cluster pulling out their unholy glocks and blasting the same unit with global range.

After it dies for the first time, all instances become jelly for 30 seconds and deal Arts damage around them. Cluster is basically a Dollkeeper boss fight.

Ok it’s back up now, phase 2 opens with Lifeline What The Fuck Ever.

Lifeline What The Fuck Ever: Everyone gets blasted with a cross AoE for low damage, set up diagonally to avoid having your softies explode. After the burst, puts a DistoWho Cares a stupid hand holding a diamond on them. These deal damage to the affixed unit + Corrosion damage. They lose HP over time but you can hit them as well. They are aerial units.

Phase 2 50% HP, all instances of Cluster become invulnerable for a few seconds, and the latest unit you deployed, prioritizing units with no one in the surrounding 8 tiles, gets a magnifying glass icon as if they were a spy. It turns red, and the unit will become a new instance of the boss (3 running around so far). It will then warp to a predetermined area in the map (meaning, it does not matter positionally where this one triggers). This unit can’t be redeployed for the rest of the map.

For each additional instance of the boss that exists, each instance takes reduced damage, so normal damage when it’s just one, reduced dmg when two, further reduced damage when it’s three. Remember they are all just one HP bar, so just keep slapping them.

That should be it. It has some other properties probably like an interaction when you retreat the marked unit etc I’ve not tested them, the wiki probably has them if you want to open a Fandom(tm) page. Anyways have fun killing it, it’s not hard when you understand its gimmicks, the real boss is the absolutely horrid presentation of its abilities in-game.

#arknights #my pet peeve is bad presentation of information in games where information is important

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hello!

Could I request Masky and Tim and Brian and Hoodie, with having a crush on a reader who is slowly opening up to them more? Like maybe talking more around them and looking less tense, maybe even holding their hand or arm when they’re feeling anxious?

Thank you!

-🐨

Tim, Masky, Brian, and Hoodie developing a crush on the reader!

ooooo hoohoo this is going to be interesting me thinks! finally got a moment to sit down, so im going to knock out from requests yahoo! still taking requests lesgo! written as neither explicitly creepypasta or marble hornets, but tagged as both (break dances) tim and brians parts a little shorter than their counterparts, which.. was unintentional.. sobs..

TIM:

maybe its because i struggle with writing tim in love, but i think he would be tense around you. i was originally going to say awkward, but that doesnt seem quite right... he doesnt avoid you, or treat you any different... but you can tell that theres something on his mind... its going to be like pulling teeth trying to get him to say something. you do find him lingering around more than usual before leaving to do something, also tends to check in on you more than before... but that doesnt mean anything, right..? i mean you guys are still only friends, right??

MASKY:

so you know how i tend to write masky to.. not really be expressive and kind of just there watching the reader, like some sort of little guard dog of sorts who probably has claimed the life of at least on person? yeah take that idea and make it a little more intense because uh oh! hes now starting to have feelings for you and since theyre new there hasnt been time for them to mellow out and chill! do i think he would go the yandere route with you? no, but thats simply because the admin doesnt like the yandere trope in most cases. but do i think he would stick by closer to you and make excuses to hang around you? yes. does he come off as stalkerish if we are assuming the reader and masky dont actually have a relationship? oh yeah 100% but by default i write that you guys interact before any feelings are caught.. leaves you random stuff, like gifts.. or even "offerings" in your room to try to appeal to you and keep your attention. does get a little possessive about you, though

BRIAN:

i think out of the four hes the most open and loose with things, but thats only because of his more easy going and jokester nature (at least according to the silly wiki im reading and what i remember of him). basks in the fact that he can make you laugh and smile, i think thats something really important for him in general when it comes to you but i think it becomes an even bigger deal for him when he starts catching feelings for you. i also think out of the four hes the most likely to tell you about his feelings!

HOODIE:

more mellowed out version of masky, still carries some of brians boldness, i think. probably the third most likely to open up about his feelings, behind tim and before masky. also leaves you little gifts and such in your house somewhere for you to find, though i think he makes a game of it. masky leaves them in plain sight, while hoodie is going to make you look for it. more touchy than usual, tends to hold on longer when you guys share a hug or you pass something to him. also physically stands closer to you than before. the lingering stares. stuff like that. you probably think hes mad at you thanks to the mask and his intimidating height, but rest assured hes just trying to find the best opening to ask you to be his

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #marble hornets x you #marble hornets x reader #hoodie x reader #hoodie x you #masky x reader #masky x you #tim wright x you #mh tim x reader #tim sutton x reader #mh brian x reader #mh brian x you #brian x reader #brian x you #masky imagine #hoodie imagine

[wren-dy-flowergarden]

Hello, there! Since you got the final request slot open, can I request a fluffy scenario in which Leona and his fem! s/o share a kiss in the rain. Takes place during the Tamashina Mina event. If you can't write Leona or don't know much about him, I understand if you don't wanna write him. Thank you!

*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴A/N: You want fluff- I gotchu fam. Also disclaimer- I only played half of this event in Japanese and had to go find the end on a wiki page lolllll. I'm not sure if this is accurate but fluffy hehe I'm sure it is. I hope my rendition of Leona is still in character let me know your thoughts on this sweet request hehe (´∀｀)♡

*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴Leona x f!Reader (can be read as gn!Reader)

*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴WC: 1.2k

*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴Tags: kisses in the rain, fluff, possessive Leona, mine mine mine, gotta do anything to win mindset, good luck rituals

The score is not looking good.

You glance around at the team. Lillia has already been disqualified for using magic, which in your understanding should have been nothing more than a penalty! Which is worse? Being disqualified or that imperial guard cracking his head on the slate after being pushed off the ring?

Vil's ankle is swelling more and more, and it further cements the idea in you that Lillia should still be in the tournament as you see Kalim ready his stance.

Jack was their third member and would have been perfect for the last round but he was already out due to a heatstroke from before.

You're on the edge of your seat as the referee calls the match for Kalim. A stroke of luck that his opponent was the bus driver they helped earlier in the week. Another tick on the board for NRC. That doesn't make you any less nervous, though. 

Grim already moved a couple spaces after you accidentally squished him too hard. That left you to fidget with the end of Leona's outfit as you tried to make plays, any plausible strategies for the last round with the players you had left. 

The fabric that ties around his tunic in golden sunset weaves through your anxiety as you fiddle.

"Nervous Herbivore?"

You jump, looking to your left where you see a Leona, his ears are perked up. Kalim exits the stage for the second time. Two small beast men jump on to clean the stage for its last round, giving you a little more time to think. 

"You're asking me that now? We have no more viable players, and you are going to stay here for an entire week if we don’t win!" You cry as the fabric strains against your pulls. "How are you not nervous?"

It seems like the question went in one ear and out the other, because all Leona is repeats with that sly grin is, "Ah~ So what you're saying is that the little herbivore will miss me?"

Bullseye. 

You stupor for a mere second. "N-No! I'll just miss Ruggie cooking extra for you." In reality, you will miss the late afternoon naps in the garden with Leona. He was like your personal blanket as he wrapped around you in the grass. You never felt better rested after a long day of classes. 

"Oh, really now?" He's closer and you feel warmer than usual even with the pockets of clouds coming in. He knows your lying.

A cough interrupts the both of you as the royal Chamberlin clears his throat, stone eyes not even remotely moving from the empty stage. "It be best for you both to focus right now."

You feel red and turn back to the stage, giving Leona a small push with your shoulder. Of course, her doesn't budge, but you can feel the pleasant hum run through his body into your own as you nudge him. You wish he stop that. "Yeah, focus or else you're giving lessons for a week at least."

Leona, with his signature smirk, lowers the mask on top of his head. You can only see his emerald eyes contrasting against gold. "Don't worry herbivore this is the last play before checkmate."

You stop fiddling with the end of his robes as he stands up, abruptly grabbing your hand leading you towards the staircase leaving the assortment of the NRC team and a few others in confusion.

"And I'm going to be borrowing you."

You hold your hands out, like a private hanger for Leona as he strips down his robes to the tunic beneath. You're a blushing mess as you see the way he slides fabric off bare muscle. He’s such a tease, the way Leona languidly slides his arm through one sleeve of the robes before depositing it in your arms.

Another piece of ornament clinks around your neck you grunt. "Is this really going to work?" Another trail of beaded gems and you swear your arms will start to buckle if he continues, "We look nothing alike ack-!"

A scarf covers your head, and you flail for a moment, before Leona hushes you, "I'm not tucking my tail between my legs and letting that prissy Vil fight with that leg." Large hands wrap the scarf a couple times around you head until you can see Leona's eyes again, "Heh- you sort of look like a wild monkey.”

You open your mouth to rebuttal that comment but the smell of fresh water touches your nose and soon your head, then your cheeks. Rain is falling.

"Ah..." Leona groans. You look up, and he looks displeased.

"What?" You ask, the tip of your lips becoming a smile. "You never told me you were part cat?"

His tail whips against your thigh and you almost drop his clothing out of reaction, "It was just a joke!"

Hu huffs, bringing a hand up to the rain. It was becoming heavier now. "There's nothing to joke about." His tail is swinging back and forward now, a frown etched on your face as he clicks his tongue. You look up into the sky and even with it raining so heavily you can still see the sun peeking through some parts of the clouds.

You blink rain falling down your lashes, "It’s kind of nice it started raining already. Like a good omen of sorts,"

He pauses. "What are you even talking about. Rain is supposed to fall for the victor." Leona crosses his arms over his chest, and you shrug the best you can with everything holding you down.

"Well, yah silly. That’s you.”

Maybe this is why he kept you so close. The way you speak your mind, unhindered by others. The way you break through walls in his life with full force. Something akin to shock is plastered on his face before it quickly disintegrates with laughter. Shoulders bobbing up and down. 

"That's some type of logic there Herbivore."

"Yes, so please hurry and go win.” You joke. The rain is seeping into the fabric around your arms and is starting to drag you down, "Especially if I have to hold this the whole match." The muffle of the announcement echoes in the stadium for the last round.

You're about to make your way inside the arena, but a cool yet warm heat enters your back as Leona holds you still. The ornamental beads trail off his mask onto your head as he tucks his head above, a warm chuckles leave his throat. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

You tilt your head upward to be met with his usual smirk. He’s playing games with you again, but you're not the type to back down.

Twisting around, still captured in his arms you look at his eyes hidden by layers of gold and precious gems hanging off the edges. "Hmmm, no you still look just as pompous as ever."

He huffs as he pulls you closer, you would be chest to chest, but you're carrying his dirty laundry- or soaking laundry. That doesn't stop you from feeling a little abashed though with the proximity. 

"Before battle, there is a tradition of sorts, beast men would receive a trinket from their king before going to battle. Sacrificing themselves for the kingdom."

"We went over this before.” You hum, "I thought you served no king?"

It the same type of rumble in his chest that you fall asleep to those quiet afternoons, "I don't."

"Well Mr. I-don't-follow-anyone, I'm not sure what I can give you." You beam. You want to make him ask for it. They were reserved for special occasions after all.

It's a quiet growl Leona makes close to your ear. The rain is slipping off the two of you, you can it dripping down his cheekbones down to you, you feel the headscarf becoming heavier as it slips of you head onto the back of your neck as you tilt you head to the side, playfully.

"Wasn't it Kifaj saying how a prince should have manners?" You ask as he digs closer into you.

"You can't deny me Herbivore." He mumbles, the strings of gems give a cold tickle on your face as he moves, he mask to his forehead exposing his face.

You laugh, he can be so cute when he wants to be. "I can you can't, but I'm feeling rather nice and I'm sure there will not wait any longer for,"me" to go on stage so just one.”

You tilt your head, and he leans closer than your lips touch. It's sweeter than usual. He tastes like the mix of hibiscus and coconut juices you have been drinking the past weekend.

It's also different from the small pecks you shared in NRC or the sessions you had when no one was watching. The chill of rain soaking you to the bone, the weight of fabric clinging to your skin wanting to drag you down if you were not careful. Leona's hand felt like fire against your back as he held you still, the other rubbing gently massaging your cheek. Gems would clink against gold in a soft chimes vibrant against the pelting of the rain on the concrete. 

He wants to deepen it, you can feel his tongue asking for permission as he swipes against your lips. To explore you deeper in a more intimate fashion compared to other times. It’s so quiet here and you almost let him if you didn't hear the microphone boom again.

NRC last contestant. Make way to the arena immediately or risk disqualification! I repeat-

You break away with a breath and Leona looks irritated as his ears twitch in annoyance. "Damn committee, can't they wait a couple more minutes?"

A laugh erupts out of you push against him escaping towards the arena, "We can continue later 'me'! Back at NRC when you win."

It's a little comedic to see a lion soaking in the rain by himself. You don't even hear him call anything back not that you needed that.

Words are useless in front of actions.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x you #twst imagines #leona fluff #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #.wwrenwrites

[littlemissclandestine]

Why I think Russell Adler is going to make a comeback in COD 2024

WARNING⚠️: Contains spoilers for Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War and Call of Duty: Black Ops 2

Disclaimer: This is all just speculation on my behalf of course. I've just tried piecing stuff together for fun because Russ is one of my fave BO characters even though he's a bitch but i need more Adler content stat. <33

Let's get into it peeps. HEAR ME OUT.

Buckle up. Gonna be one hell of a ride folks 🤪

We'll start off with some random/background info.

Russ was born on February 12th 1937 so that would make him 53/54 in the Gulf War era. This actually isn't that old because if you think about it, Woods was about to turn 51 in 1981 during the Cold War campaign. What's a few more years?

We last saw Adler in action post-campaign in Warzone 1.0 cinematics but we've been kept in the dark about Adler's whereabouts post-1984 (after being brainwashed and killing Stitch LOL).

This meanie in a beanie wasn't forgotten about, oh no. He appears in the new cinematic intros on startup for both MWII (2022) and MWIII (2023). See below:

He was also featured twice in the 20 year anniversary video for Call of Duty whereas COD Ghosts didn't even get an appearance (ouch): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eL_w5HmxsPI

I personally believe Adler was a great addition to the Black Ops roster and is essentially the new Black Ops 'cover boy' now. Would be such a shame and a missed opportunity not to include a character like him in the upcoming COD. One who is morally grey, does whatever he deems necessary to get the job done - a bit like Cpt. Price in MW. Got the COD fans riled up about him brainwashing and pulling the trigger on Bell too - he's already got the spotlight in both a good and bad way.

Now, let's explore my main reasoning as to why I think Mr Shades 2.0 is most likely coming back in late 2024...

🎖️First up: Gulf War mission list 🔫

Here are some of the campaign missions that will be featured in Black Ops Gulf War. Obviously, this is subject to change, however, going off what we have, look closely...

Credit: @MWIIINTEL on Twitter/X

Safehouse guys...SAFEHOUSE. Takes you right back to Cold War, doesn't it? Ugh the potential.

🕵️ Next up: The campaign for COD 2024 will dive into the CIA's role/the Black Ops timeline 🕘

I took the following snippet from this official article.

From this, we know there will be a huge focus on the CIA and who's a CIA clandestine special officer? Mhm, you guessed it - Russell Adler.

Now, according to the events of BO2, it's evident which characters have the possibility of returning out of our original BO trio - Jason Hudson, Frank Woods and Alex Mason.

💫 Alex is presumed dead after Frank shot him so he's out the picture in '90/91 until 2025 when they canonically meet again.

🪵 Woods would be in his 60s during this time too so I'll let you decide whether that's too old for him to be in GW.

Edit: Woods got SPAS-12'd in the kneecaps on Dec 20th 1989 by Raul Menendez so uh...yeah

🧊 Hudson died on Dec 20th 1989 at the hands of Raul Menendez.

Feel free to check out this website (Call of Duty Wiki) for an outline of the events after CW to remind yourself. Here's a link to the Black Ops timeline from there.

➡️ Gulf War being a direct sequel to Cold War and what that could mean 💉

That brings me onto the rest of the safehouse crew. Since GW is a direct sequel to CW, it would make sense for some characters to carry over if possible:

We, as the player/Bell, get to choose whether Park or Lazar die (or both lovebirds) in 'End of the Line'. It's highly unlikely they'll return unless the devs make one decision canon maybe.

There could be a chance we see Sims again given his bond with Adler (Da Nang etc.), his age (late 40s in GW) and his status (alive).

That leaves the man himself, Russ. Everything from his age to the fact he's CIA and was the deuteragonist in COD 2020's campaign just makes sense for him to have at least a lil cameo or even a larger role, don't you think?

📱Finally: Hints from official posts 🔎

This post from Call of duty's official Instagram account kind of sealed the deal for me.

Oh lookie - they dropped syringe-lover's famous line in a zombies post. Why would COD just drop it so casually like that without a reason and years after CW came out? They could've said absolutely anything else but no, this was purposeful.

And that's all for this episode guys and gals!

Thank you for reading!! 🫂

Do what you will with all this information but I have concluded in my silly little brain that scarface is coming back.

How he's only in one game is beyond me. Won't get a character like him ever again. Seems like a cliché war dude at first glance but dig a little deeper into the details of the CW campaign, peel back the layers and get into his psychology and WOWZERS.

Am I delusional? Most definitely.

But the possibility he might be returning...that little bit of hope is enough for me and i won't shut up about it.

This will age horribly if he isn't in GW. Forgive me for feeding your delusions too in that case. Please?

What are your thoughts? Feel free to share them! 😊

#this took forever rip #but you see where i'm coming from? #might do a part two if anything else gets leaked #Star's bottomless waffles ☆ #call of duty #cod #black ops cold war #black ops 2 #alex mason #frank woods #russell adler #jason hudson #black ops gulf war #cod cw #cod cold war #call of duty black ops #call of duty cold war #cod 2024

[freestyle-crocodile-trashpile]

Dark

[A/n: Oh and just a BTW I've never played cod mw2 so if 8 get their personalities wrong that's why, I'm just going off of what I read p, including wiki]

Summary: The new guy is terrifying at night due to his size and speed

Type: Short scenario: Gaz X Male!Reader: Soap X Make!Reader: Alejandro X Male!Reader: Price X Male!Reader: Ghost X Male!Reader: Ruby X Male!Reader

Version: Cod Mw2

Gaz

He already gets scared easily so when you came in it got worst, more than expected so when one day when he woke up at night to get a drink, he clearly didn’t see you getting his water he heard you, well he didn’t know it was you obviously. But you never once thought you’d see a military soldier stop and turn around so scared in his life. But when he saw you towering over him, he calmed down and playfully slapped you. 

“My god you scared me.”

Ghost

You know you’re scary when you scare Ghost, The Ghost. Ghost doesn’t sleep when everyone else does so he was just thirsty. When he got to the kitchen, he looked around like usual, but somehow, he didn’t see you. When he was making tea, he heard you walking over to him. He didn’t do anything at first and waited for you to get closer. As soon as you were at arm’s length, he spun around and roundhouse-kicked you. When he saw you, he calmed down a bit.

“Don’t sneak up on me Soldier.”

Alejandro

Now Alejandro isn’t one to get scared, we know this, but you somehow did. Entering the kitchen late at night he was still really tired from the day prior, which is no surprise when you are in the military. So, since he was so tired, he didn’t care for his surroundings, so he clearly didn’t see you. Even when he opened the fridge and pulled out a yahoo chocolate milk, he didn’t even know when they got yahoos. He didn’t even close the fridge when he took a drink of the yahoo, while he was in mid-drink he turned around and saw you standing there causing him to almost choke on his drink. While he was coughing, he threw his cap at you, not wanting to spill his drink.

“¡Eres idiota! ¡No te acerques sigilosamente a mí, Dios mío!“

Ruby

Just like Alejandro, he was really tired and just didn’t process that you were in the room with him, but he didn’t care either way. Opening the fridge door, he looked around confused since his yahoo wasn’t there.  All of a sudden, he’s wide awake, moving everything around and throwing things out of the fridge. Now you’ve seen Ruby mad but not like this. Whipping around he jumped back when he saw you but that fear instantly disappeared. He grabbed the collar of your shirt and pulled you down since you were quite taller than him.

“¿¡BEBISTE MI YAHOO!? ¡¡¿EH?!! ¿¡FUISTE TÚ!?“

Price

He was actually about to go to bed but had to get a drink first, his cigars were making him thirsty. Grabbing his “number one dad” mug and filling it with water. As he slowly drank his water, still thinking about past events that happened this morning. For example, Soap and Ghost were having a training session when Gaz brought everyone drinks like he did in high school, and for the rest of the day, he was called water boy. Chuckling softly Price turned around, when he saw you he jumped hard. Gasping a bit after he inhaled his water he leaned on the sink and glared at you.

“Boy...Just wait for tomorrow.”

Soap

Now if anyone’s easy to scare, it’s soap. He may be amazing at his job and a really good fighter but my god does this boy jump. You could pat his shoulder anytime when he isn’t looking and he’ll jump like a cat when it sees a cucumber. So when he got up at night to get a drink of water he didn’t see you. His glasses weren’t on (i feel like soap secretly wears glasses but only at night and when he’s reading). He heard you but when he turned around he couldn't see you, so he stood there holding his cup of water just looking around terrified. When he finally saw you he punched you and ran completely leaving the cup of water behind, cause he saw you but didn’t see who you were.

“ GHOST!!! THERE’S A INUREDER”

(A/n: this was super fun to write honestly. I hope you enjoyed)

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x male reader #cod soap #cod price #cod alejandro #cod gaz #cod rudy #call of duty mw2 #mw2 headcanons #mw2 #cod ghost #mw2 ghost #ghost mw2

[foundry-fabrications]

Happy Halloween everyone! It is with immense pleasure and excitement that I present to you a labor of love, the long awaited rework of Flesh & Bone! Originally, I had intended to release this shortly after the absolutely stellar remake of Dead Space, but that obviously wasn't going to happen. So as to not repeat my last mistake with big projects and arbitrary deadlines, I took things nice and slow, took my time to give this work the true love and attention it deserved. Anything for my beloved Dead Space.

And I couldn't be more pleased with the result! Well, I can always be happier. There's always something I wish I could have added or done differently, but I won't dwell on that. "Don't let perfect be the enemy of done".  But it makes me so happy to see it in its full gorey glory after all this time. But that enough preamble, let's get into the changes from the original!

Being the result of a 3-week mad rush to release on time for Halloween, the original brew has a LOT of problems. I forgot a lot of details and made a lot of mistakes just by the nature of not having enough time to do it justice. Having had, what, 2 years, between now and then has given me a lot of time to hone my skills as a creator and figure out exactly what I wanted to do for the eventual rework.

The first and most obvious thing is the aesthetics. Flesh and Bone was the first time I ever tried to make a Homebrewery theme from scratch, so I had a LOT to learn in a very short timeframe. I got it most of the way there for what I wanted to do, but it still had a lot of issues, namely a lack of integrated stat blocks. Formatting was also just awful. I just couldn't get them to work quite right, and they always looked super off, so I elected for images instead. Since then, I've made my Xenomorph supplement which used that initial test as a starting point, and I was able to fix a lot of the issues I ran into. I also want to change the overall look of the theme itself. When I designed it, I was going for a design mix based on the Dead Space wiki and the holographic UI from the games themselves. The result was...not the most legible. I've taken a new approach with the rework, made everything MUCH more readable, and borrowed heavily from the aesthetics of the 2023 remake.

As for the contents themselves, turns out there were a bunch of really cool necromorph variants that I just completely forgot about like the Twitchers, those reanimator swarms from DS3, and the Ubermorph. With that last one in particular, I reworked the old Hunter into the Regenerator with Hunter and Ubermorph variants, like I have with the Slasher, Spitter, and now Twitcher. In general, most of the necromorph forms were in dire need of reworks up in one way or another, especially their descriptions. I pulled almost all of that text directly from the Dead Space wiki, and it showed real bad. Again, 3 weeks, all panic. All the descriptions have been rewritten to be more in line with my other writing.

I also removed that section at the beginning about the Markers. I originally included it to give context for the rest of the brew, and I just really wanted to talk about the Markers, but the more I looked at it that section honestly added very little to the rest of the brew that couldn't be done in other areas. And let's be real, the Markers are SO IMPORTANT to the Dead Space universe that they really need their own dedicated brew. So, I pulled that section out, and it will go in said dedicated brew another time.

And the final change is I actually included some form of boss necromorph this time! I hadn't planned to, but I started thinking more and more about it, and I was also asked by one of my lovely patrons about it, so I gave in and made stats for really the only Dead Space boss worth talking about: The Hive Mind. I actually had fun writing it, working out its abilities from both the original and the remake, as well as taking some creative liberties and giving it some fun new abilities as a result of it being a Nexus necromorph.

So that's everything! I hope this gruesome creation of mine brings you as much joy and terror as it has to me. Stay safe, stay spooky, don't forget to love each other, and m̵̧̈́ͅa̴̜͑̍ḳ̵̍ë̷͍͇́ ̶̖̾̏u̸̪̅͜s̷͙̟̓ ̷̬̩̒w̸͇͘h̶̠̳͆̽o̶̻̺͂̀l̴̛͍̦e̸̡̡͗. See you next time.

Enjoy my work? Consider leaving me a Tip or supporting me on Patreon! Patrons gain access to high quality PDFs for all of my content, weekly updates, early access, and more!

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#dungeons and dragons #5th edition #dnd #homebrew #5e #dnd 5e homebrew #5e dnd #dnd homebrew #dead space #body horrow cw #horror #body horror tw #blood #cw gore #necromorph #undead #monsters #tw dismemberment #tw body horror #tw horror

[glimmeringtwilight]

Can you write a Part 2 of the pantalone and dottore oneshot where dottore finds the reader and brings them back?

Oh boy CAN I. This isn't super well edited because I've taken much longer than anticipated writing this, but it's 4k words and editing it properly would take maybe another 1-2 days fhjghjkghjkg also excuse any inaccuracies with the Harlow's monkey experiment, I'm rolling mostly off my recollection and a quick skim of a wiki page.

Cut Me Open, Bleed Me Dry

Continuation to Gilded Cage, which can be read here.

Pairing(s): Dottore/Reader, Pantalone/Reader(implied)

Word Count: 4.2k

CW: NSFW, torture, mild gore, drugging, kidnapping/captivity, yandere themes, threats of mutilation, noncon, implied somnophilia, AFAB READER (I know I usually do gn but being nondescript didn't fit the writing this time, sorry!)

It’s cold. 

That’s the first thing your mind registers when you come to. The second, is the throbbing and insistent pain behind your temples as consciousness slowly comes back to you. 

There’s a sour taste in your mouth. Your tongue feels like cotton, your fingers tingle with pins and needles as numbness slowly fades from them, and you immediately know you’ve been drugged. Even with the fog of sleep and the drug still clinging to your mind; even as your thoughts are waterlogged and you’re treading water just to piece them together, you know where you are.

Dottore always did like to use the same drug every time he sedated you. 

There’s a blindfold covering your eyes, pressing uncomfortably against your lashes when you try to open them, but there’s no gag to accompany it. That must mean he wants you to talk. 

You decide to stall. If you thrash, beg, or scream, he’ll know you’re awake. And you’ll be subjected to whatever it is he’s going to do to you a lot sooner. So… you don’t do that. Instead, you keep your breathing steady, holding still against the cold metal table you’re strapped to. 

Sure, it’s only just delaying the inevitable, but you’ve gotten good at drifting away whenever you wake up on his operating table. It’s the only thing you can do to cling to the frayed threads left of your sanity. 

In a way, the blindfold helps. Dottore usually doesn’t blindfold you, but Pantalone… 

You close your eyes, focusing on the pressure of the fabric covering your eyes to distract yourself from the bite of cold metal against bare skin, and you drift. 

You’re in bed. It’s warm, if only under the sheets. You’re not… home, but if you’re being honest with yourself (you rarely are, these days), you don’t really remember what home was like, anymore. So you settle for the empty imitations of it; the dreary and beautiful halls of Pantalone’s mansions– he had to move you around, a few times, but never told you why, when you’d asked. You know now. 

You’re… in bed. It’s cold. You’re shivering. You can hear Pantalone across the room; he’s saying something, but you can’t– you can’t hear him. Why can’t you…?

You’re in bed, and you feel gloved hands tracing up your arms, fingers pausing to tap playfully against your pulse, and then your head is being lifted so deft fingers can untie the knot holding the blindfold. 

The fabric is pulled away, and red eyes meet your own. 

You’re not in bed. You’re with Dottore, strapped to an operating table. Reality crashes into you like a bucket of icewater, and your trembling increases tenfold. 

“Enjoy your rest?” He asks, monotone. He’s not smiling, and it’s the first time, you realize, that he hasn’t smiled when he’s had you on his exam table. 

You don’t respond, and Dottore’s face stays carefully blank as he regards you. “...Hm.” 

The Doctor steps away, out of sight, but you don’t try to follow him with your gaze, listening instead to his receding footsteps. 

It still doesn’t feel real. Undoubtedly, part of you knew that, as tightly as Pantalone held on, it was only a matter of time before Dottore sunk his claws into you once more. 

But part of you wanted to hope that it wouldn’t happen, that Pantalone would be able to shield you from him forever. Because though Pantalone treated you more like a beloved pet than a person, it was still better than this: pinned under the microscope and picked apart piece by sinewy piece by Dottore. 

Dottore returns to your side, and you count ceiling tiles, willing the ground to open up and swallow you into the abyss. Or better yet, to swallow him, so he can be surrounded by darkness as deep as the pitch of his soul. 

You’d pray if there were any gods to hear you. But you know better. The prick of a needle, chased by the burn of whatever he’s injecting into you, and you know that the gods– or perhaps just the blasphemous parody of gods that had sunk their teeth into Teyvat long ago– had abandoned you. 

Gloved fingers trace a slow path down your sternum, pausing just below your diaphragm and pressing down until you wince in discomfort, stopping when you do but not yet easing up. 

“Comfortable?”

“No,” Comes your hoarse whisper. Your eyes stay pinned on the ceiling tiles overhead. There’s specks of blood you can barely see from where you lie. You wonder how much of it is yours. 

“Pity.” 

The hands continue their slow descent over bare skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He pauses again once he reaches your pelvic bone, drumming his fingers there before pulling away entirely. Glass clinks against glass when he steps away again, and you feel a hand grabbing your chin before the narrow mouth of a test tube is pressed against your lips. 

“Open,” He says, grip tightening on your chin, and you do. You know better by now than to fight him.

The liquid inside of the tube sloshes out as he pours it a little too quickly, and the rest of it burns the whole way down your throat, sickly-sweet. Dottore pulls the tube away when he’s sure you’ve swallowed it all, wiping the excess dribbling down your chin with his thumb before dipping into your mouth to smear it against your tongue. 

It doesn’t take long for you to figure out what it was he gave you. You think he injected you with a muscle relaxant– you realize too late when your fingers stop responding to your attempts to twitch them (not that you could do much to struggle otherwise. The straps pinning you to the table hold firm).

As for what he poured down your throat… 

Dottore is across the room washing his hands when you begin to sweat. You can hear the sound of running water, and while you’re sure it’s only for a minute, it feels like an eternity as the chill of the room begins to hurt, turning sharp and biting. 

He comes back over when you whimper, with a fresh set of gloves and a scalpel. You regret looking, forcing your gaze back to the ceiling and breathing through your teeth. You try to count the blood specks on the ceiling, the cracks, the tiles– anything and everything to distract yourself. 

The blade of his scalpel grazes your wrist, leaving what you’re sure is no bigger than a papercut, but it burns so much more than it should, ripping a muted whine from your throat. 

Dottore hushes you, continuing to cut through the straps. You know he could just undo them, instead of ruining them by cutting through the leather, but he wants to see you squirm. 

He doesn’t nick you again, but it doesn’t matter. The pain of the cut on your wrist stings so insistently you can’t manage to drift, to distance yourself, away from him and from what he’s doing to you. 

When he finishes with the last strap, he sets the scalpel down on a tray beside the table– one you refuse to look at, not wanting to see the tools laid out there; to see what he intends to do to you. Ignorance is bliss. Ignorance is bliss, you tell yourself, and you try to believe it. 

You’re lifted and positioned so you’re lying on your stomach now on the table, and he has the barest amount of mercy left in him to turn your head to the side so your nose doesn’t smash against the metal surface. 

“Now, this is going to sting a bit, dear,” He starts, once you’re positioned how he wants you, “But you’ve suffered worse, hm? Bear with it.”

It’s detached, the way he speaks to you; so unlike the usual underlying excitement that drips from his voice whenever he’s laid you out on this table in the past. It’s.. horrifying. The safety net of his obsession that’s saved you from worse in the past no longer feels safe, anymore. If ever it did. 

Cool metal ghosts over your spine, the flat of the scalpel dragging over skin before stopping to rest below your shoulder blade. He pulls away and you hope that’s it, that he’s just going to toy with the threat of hurting you instead of actually doing so, but then cold metal returns and it’s the only warning you get before sharp pain bursts from just below your shoulder blade as he begins to cut. 

It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, and you can’t focus on anything but the white-hot pain as it spreads from the tip of your scapula to the tail. 

It hurts. You think you must be sobbing something similar, but if your cries are coherent, Dottore doesn’t pay them any mind. There’s a ringing in your ears that drowns everything out, your vision blurs, and you’re still reeling from the pain of the first incision when Dottore moves to your other shoulder.

You taste copper and you realize you must have bitten your tongue at some point, but the pain doesn’t compare to the sensation of fire lapping at your back– to the nerves firing off, overloading your senses with undiluted agony. 

Something is forced between your teeth and you bite down immediately out of instinct. He’s saying something to you, now, but his voice is muffled, like your head is underwater. You’re drowning. You can’t breathe, swallowed up by the capsizing waves of sensation.

Pain traces a blazing trail down your spine. Your head is swimming, black spots dancing in your vision, and you close your eyes to succumb to the mercy of unconsciousness.

You’re not granted that mercy. 

Instead, the sensation of ice chases away the heat, the fiery agony dimming as a freezing numbness settles in. 

A voice cuts through the fog. “Open your eyes before I decide to remove them.”

You open your eyes, looking back towards Dottore through the film of tears over your eyes, the blur of pain. Dimly, you can feel his hand gripping your jaw again, but the feeling is distant, disjointed. 

“Good.” Red eyes scan over your form, less cold, this time, as he appraises his work. “I’d like you present for this.”

You mumble a slurred “Where elsh would I be?” around the gag stuffed in your mouth.

“This-” There’s a harsh pinch to your arm that you can hardly muster a wince for, too exhausted from the pain he’d already put you through. From the corner of your eye you can see the glint of amusement in his eyes fade at your lack of reaction, “-is here. But this-” Gloved fingers tap at your temple, “-is not. Stay present. I’m being gentle with you.”

He’s not. He’s really not, but you know he could be doing so much worse, so you nod and make him a promise you can’t keep, like you’ve done a thousand times before. 

Dottore stares at you for a long moment, and you resist the urge to let your eyes glaze over, to stare off into the distance. You level your unsteady gaze at him instead, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact. Your efforts are rewarded with a dispassionate simper, and Dottore picks back up the knife. 

You stop looking. 

The pain ignites anew, duller now, no longer white-hot. It’s still insistent, inescapable, and you wish you could crawl out of your own skin.

A line drawn down your back with the knife, like your body is a canvas, your blood the ink, and Dottore the persevering composer. 

There’s a study that comes to mind. You remember reading about it, one rainy afternoon as you took shelter from the rain in a quaint library in Sumeru, procrastinating your own studies. Before everything… before this. 

The study was done on monkeys. They were separated from their mothers young, placed in cages with a wire mother, which provided milk, and a cloth mother, which provided nothing but comfort. 

Survival or comfort. That was the study. The monkeys chose comfort, only going to the cloth mother for food when they were hungry and spending the rest of their time with the cloth mother. 

You’d always wondered, then, what you would choose. As Dottore pushes something into one of the incisions, gloves slick with your own blood, you think you know. 

Dottore stops. “Say again?”

It’s hard to get the words out around the gag, but Dottore seems to understand you regardless. 

“Oh. Poor thing,” It’s a cold comfort, the blood-slicked hand that pats your head. His voice is flat, not condescending or patronizing like when Pantalone simpers at you. But you can hear the amusement creeping into his tone, and it’s enough. “We’re almost done. I’ll give you something for the pain in a moment.”

Something for the pain, he says, as though he hadn’t already given you something, turning the low burning flame of shallow incisions into a raging inferno. 

There’s a cut to your arm, this time, deeper than the rest. It burns, but it’s overshadowed still by the throbbing and insistent agony in your back. Something else is pressed into your arm, and Dottore finally sets down the knife.

The room is spinning. 

A hand returns to pet your head once more, matting it further with your own blood. You slowly become aware of just how cold the room is, heightened by the sheen of sweat covering your bare skin. You want to go home. …You’re not sure where home is, anymore. 

There’s another needle, a sharp sting and then a dull ache settling in like a bruise at your nape. It doesn’t take long for the pain to dull, and you fight the wave of exhaustion that chases on the heels of relief, not wanting to aggravate him further by slipping into unconsciousness before he lets you. 

You try to stay awake. You really do. But with your heartbeat echoing in your ears, the warm hand resting atop your head, and the pain dulling, unhooking its claws from your consciousness, you drift. 

When you wake, you’re still in the nightmare. You’ve been moved to a stiff, sterile bed, lying on your stomach to not agitate the wounds on your back. It feels like Dottore must have cleaned and bandaged you up already– a small comfort.

The injuries ache dully, but more concerning is the feeling of fingers digging into your hips.

“Glad to see you’re finally awake, my dear.” A pause, then a lewd squelch as he pulls his other hand out from between your thighs. “I was starting to get bored.”

Dottore thumbs at the edge of the bandages encircling your back, humming. “That spoiled brat thought he could hide you from me forever.” He leans down, pressing his nose against the nape of your neck and causing the skin to prickle with goosebumps. You shiver at the contact and he smiles against your skin. 

“Oh, but don’t worry.” You cringe when his hand, still wet, taps you on the cheek. “I’ve already made something to keep him busy. You don’t mind that I took a bone and tissue sample while you slept, do you?”

It’s a rhetorical question– one that you don’t bother to answer and that he doesn’t care to hear the answer to, regardless. Instead, Dottore seems to be interested in the space between your legs once more, hand running down to smear the arousal he’d coaxed out of you in your sleep against your inner thighs. 

“Pity that you’ll have to be on your stomach for this,” He muses, chuckling quietly at the way you flinch when he slides two fingers back into you, “I do so love seeing your reactions.”

You bite your lip to stifle a groan when he curls his fingers against your walls, grinding his thumb against your clit. It aches, just a little bit. Like you’re sore. Like he’s been doing this for a while.

It’s almost mortifying, actually, how well he knows your body. The building pleasure drowns out the lingering ache of your injuries, and it’s hard to focus on the shame coiling in your gut when there’s something else coiling faster and brighter than the shame. 

“Mm, faster than I’d expected.” Dottore mutters from behind you, increasing the pace of his fingers as his other hand slips beneath you to press down on your stomach, right over where his fingers curl against your walls. 

Your thighs spasm, trying to close around his wrist, and he tsks, moving his other hand to hold one thigh against the bed as he presses a third finger around you. Your vision whites out, and Dottore doesn’t stop pumping his fingers inside you until you’re whimpering and twitching from overstimulation. 

“There. Good.” 

There’s a wet pat to your thigh, and you hear him walk off to grab something from the other end of the room. He returns with a jar of… something pink, some kind of salve, and dips his clean hand inside the jar to scoop out a generous amount of it. 

He applies it between your legs, over your clit, pressing some of it inside you and deliberately rubbing his fingers against your g-spot, eyes crinkling in delight at the oversensitive spasm that runs through you. It doesn’t take long for you to figure out what it does. 

It burns. Not in the same way as the pain did when you’d woken up on the operating table, but suddenly it feels like your cunt is on fire, all of your attention forced to the way Dottore’s hands feel as he rubs the excess off against your labia. 

You barely register the sound of Dottore unzipping his pants, but you do register the sheer, overwhelming relief you feel when he immediately presses inside of you, the head of his cock dragging against your walls before coming to a halt just below your cervix. 

He begins to thrust, mercifully not commenting on the keen you let out the second he starts moving. 

Dottore sets a brutal pace, snapping his hips against yours, grabbing one of your thighs and lifting it higher on the bed to get better leverage. You can feel his balls slap against your clit with each snap of his hips, the sound of it drowned out by your hiccuping moans. 

Your second orgasm is ripped out of you suddenly, embarrassingly fast. You choke on a moan and tighten around him, distantly hearing the doctor laugh as he fucks you through it. It’s getting hard to think, to focus on anything but his cock hammering into you. 

Unfortunately, Dottore seems keen to talk, while you’re still coherent enough to listen.  

“You know,” he begins conversationally, gloved fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh as he slows his pace to a slow, maddening grind inside you, “The femoral artery is right about-” he fumbles for a second, then his fingers are digging bruisingly into the flesh, “-here. If I were to cut you here,” You feel him lean down to breathe against the shell of your ear, “It would take about… Oh, I don’t know, three, four minutes for you to bleed out.”

You go still beneath him, holding your breath and he slows to a stop, relishing the way terror makes you tighten around him. It’s hard to focus, to think through the fog of lust, but the sudden, blatant threat still manages to cut through the haze like a knife. 

“I won’t, of course,” He tells you after a beat, laughing cruelly at the tentative sigh of relief you let out. “Not to you, that is. You’re my favorite test subject, after all.”

Dottore resumes his pace, loosening his grip on your leg and letting it drop limply back against the table. 

You think that’s the end of it, until he speaks up again, halting his thrusts briefly to tuck your legs under you and cant your hips up higher. “What wouldn’t kill you, however…”

One hand finds its way to your stomach again, tracing light circles around your navel. “I could remove most of your small intestine, and you would survive.”

“N-” You begin to protest, but another harsh thrust cuts you off.

“Not comfortably, of course, depending on how much I remove.” His hand floats down, pressing harshly against your clit and forcing another sudden orgasm from you. He waits for you to come back down before he speaks again. “If I take too much, we’d need to adjust your diet. But…” 

His breathing is picking up now, getting more labored. “I could, hah-” He leans down, breathing hotly against your neck and trapping you against the bed with his body. The movement drags against the bandages, agitating your injuries. “I could… Take just a little bit. A few feet.”

“No-” 

“Quiet.” He snaps his hips harder against yours and you bite your tongue, drawing blood again, to stifle the sob that bubbles up. “I could take a few feet, make a leather collar out of it… Make you wear it, sew it to your skin if I must-”

His fingers continue circling your clit and you blink back overstimulated and terrified tears, his hand on your hip tightening painfully. You can feel the next high approaching and you desperately hold it back. It’s hard to think. In the back of your mind you know you need to say something, do something to stop his train of thought before he decides to act on it-

Dottore growls against your shoulder. You can feel his scowl as he presses his weight harder against you, but it twists into a smile at your responding pained gasp when the bandages drag against the incisions. “Ah- hah, I won’t, of course,” He pants, nipping at your throat, “I could do that to just any test subject of mine, my dear, but you’re more than that now, aren’t you? Just tell me, again, that you love me.”

Again? 

“You’ve already said it before. Once more won’t kill you.”

It takes you several long moments, not helped at all by Dottore continuing to rut into you distractingly, but you remember. He’s right. When he was cutting into you, when you were desperate and delirious from the pain, you’d choked out the three damning words around the gag. 

It was done out of desperation. You’d wanted the pain to stop, and it had. Dottore had stopped after you’d said it, taking pity on you instead. 

One more time couldn’t hurt, right? It’s such a small price to pay, a white lie so he doesn’t hurt you further. 

“I- ah, nnnm-” He doesn’t slow down his pace for you to get the words out without stuttering, but you’re too exhausted to feel ashamed of the way that your voice cracks with pleasure. “I love- love you.”

“Yes,” Dottore’s cock twitches inside of you, and he snarls against your neck. “Good. You don’t have to mean it, yet. But you will. You will.”

It’s spoken like a promise; one you’re unable to dread as your mind starts to blank, focus drifting to your next orgasm as Dottore’s thrusts become wild, desperate.

The head of his cock batters against your g-spot with every stroke, pleasure and overstimulated pain lancing through you. Your thoughts are fuzzy from lust, unable to focus on anything but the heaving breaths against the shell of your ear, the wet slap of skin-on-skin, the hiccuping moans and noises of pleasure he pulls from your throat. 

Teeth sink into your shoulder at the same time Dottore pinches your clit, and your eyes roll back as white-hot pleasure lances through your veins. . 

He growls, the sound vibrating against your shoulder, and you shudder when you feel him cum after you, cock twitching as he shoots his load deep inside your cunt. 

The world comes back to you slowly, in jagged pieces. When you crack your eyes open once more, you’ve been moved so your legs are no longer tucked up under you, lying comfortably flat on your stomach once more. 

Dottore comes back from the other side of the room with a vial, and your face scrunches in revulsion as he presses it to your abused hole, collecting the cum that oozes out. A gloved hand pats your head affectionately before he pulls away. 

“Get some rest. I have something that I need to… attend to.” Sleep. You can do that, certainly.

He waves his hand, and you vaguely hear him speaking to the clone that immediately comes into view– who was probably stationed in the corner the whole time, taking notes or something. You wouldn’t put it past him, and from the way some of them stare at you a little too long, a little too intensely, you’re sure many of his clones would like to do a little bit more to you than just watch and take notes.

As Dottore leaves, and his clone wipes you down with a rag, knuckles brushing against the inside of your thighs a little too deliberately to be innocuous, you’re reminded of the cloth monkeys again. 

The clone moves to rest his hand atop your limp one once he’s sure Dottore has left, and you curl your fingers around his own. His hands are cold without the gloves, just like his progenitor’s. 

You choose comfort too.

#yandere #dottore #il dottore #dottore/reader #il dottore/reader #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #yandere dottore #yandere il dottore #yandere dottore/reader #genshin #genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #dead dove do not eat #cw: noncon #cw: drugging #cw: torture #i'm so sad the childe fic vanished from my top posts and the zhongli modern au was buried #it's JUST DOTTORE #LITERALLY NOTHING BUT HIM #WAAAGH #what have i become.... i have lost sight of myself.... of my noble journey..... #my writing #one day i'll format these prettily. not today though. i'm lazy #enjoy the meal xoxo #smut #not sfw

[cookieeks-art]

I don't really go here (don't have a computer or console to play the game on), but I got curious about this man after seeing him on my dash, and now I can't stop thinking about him. So here's some art I've made of him in-between scrambling to find gameplay videos featuring him and reading everything I can find about him online. (Feat what I imagine my builder would look like if I had the game. Her name is Frida and she's so far only wearing the basic clothes, bcs I'm not sure if I can properly figure out how she would dress unless I played the game. Also, I projected a little of my own trepidations with marriage on her, mostly because I imagine that even with Pen not wanting to be married it might hurt his ego a little for someone to be so happy that marriage with him isn’t on the table.) The text in the first panel in the comic is taken directly from the wiki, (apparently it’s his response when accepting a romantic confession?), but I apologise if he’s ooc in the rest of the comic, I'm still getting a feel for him.

(ID in alt and under cut!)

[ID:

A digital drawing of Pen from My time at Sandrock. It’s shows him shoulder up, from a profile view, a serious expression of his face. He’d shaded in a warm orange with light blue highlights. The background is a greyish green. In the lower right corner is a doodle of a person with long hair, grasping the air infront of them with a comically feral expression and text reading “I’m so normal about him” ending with a smiley face above her head. In the corner is aslo a signature reading “Cookieek”.

The second image is a digitally coloured sketch of Pen from My time at Sandrock. He’s vivible from the hips and up, and from a 3/4 perspective, standing against a gradient background, and smiling at something off screen. He has one hand on his hip and his cape is flowing beside him. He’s cast in warm orange light, with blue shadows. In the bottom of the picture is a signature reading “Cookieek”.

A comic in greyscale, featuring Pen and my builder Frida, a skinny woman with a round face, a scar on the left side of her chin, and light hair pulled up into a messy high ponytail. She’s dressed in the default builder outfit.

The first panel shows Pen looking down at Frida, smiling smugly with his hand under his chin, two stars around his head, and saying: “Very well! I promise you I will not only be the Protector of Sandrock, but the protector of you. Though you must know, I am in strong opposition to this strange concept called "marriage."”. Frida is looking up at him, her back to the viewer.

The second panel shows Frida beaming up at Pen who’s now the one with his back towards the viewer, she’s giving him a thumbs up, while exclaiming: “Then we are on the same page!” with a smiley face at the end. Beside her head is a small “yay!” written above another smiley, but with an open mouth smile. Pen appears to almost freeze up.

The third panel shows Frida walking away from pen with a pep in her step, a big happy smile on her face alongside a blush. “Terrified of marriage” is written above her head, with an arrow pointing to her. Pen is still standing in the same pose as before, but with a baffled expression on his face, and question marks around his head.

The fourth panel focuses in on Pens face, as he lowers his hand, appearing now to be both confused and slightly miffed, question marks still around his head.

The final panel show Pen spanning into another confident pose, looking to the side with his fingers grazing his forehead, sparkles around his head. He smiles, and says “Ha! Poor Skinny! So upset, but trying to have good humor about it! I can see through it easily! But good play, good play.” He’s sweating slightly.

In the right lower corner is a signature reading “Cookieek”.

End of ID]

#mtas pen #mtas #fanart #sketches #sketch #this man and Arthur are duking it out in my mindscape for attention rn #not even kidding #I’m still working on the superhero au fic though!

[tf2heritageposts]

Hi! I have something to share that you might enjoy! (Staying anonymous because I really only lurk on tumblr these days but if there's demand I'll make a sideblog for any discussion. Bear with me here...) Your posts and discussion on Freak Fortress inspired me to dust off an old design document I wrote over the course of months back in 2020, imagining MUCH OF the Freak Fortress roster as MOBA heroes (so games like DOTA 2 or League). I gave it a pass to fix some years old typos and clean up the formatting. It uses pageless view on google docs and a lot of tables so I recommend viewing it on a pc/laptop/anything bigger than a phone. It includes 54 fully designed "heroes", 61 items, and 19 special creeps which can be captured and will fight alongside your team (like 'Heroes of the Storm' for anyone who knows that game). It's not enough to make a full game off of, as there's no levelling system, nor map design, or anything for an economy, and some of them are probably overtuned, but if you like Freak Fortress and have a passing concept of how a MOBA plays, I think you'll enjoy it. I've never shared it with anyone before because TF2 Freaks as a thing to enjoy are pretty niche, but I like to think someone following this blog will enjoy it.

(The link just goes to a google doc, and I moved it to a dummy drive account to preserve my own anonymity/not dox myself) They're all very top-down design wise, trying to keep the flavor of the freak while making them work for a lanecrawler, and I pulled much of my information on them from the TF2 Freakshow wiki.

Some freaks I'm really proud of design wise include Cave Heavy, Dream Demoman, and Commander Private. Please enjoy and lemme know what you think! https://docs.google.com/document/d/1p1CIQbSDowTr24YEUcsgVN8UEoAWqB_Nj3Nov2ESSKQ/edit?usp=sharing

i'm only four pages in, but this is utter fucking genius. i would genuinally pay to see this made into a real thing, even if it probably wouldn't(i am NOT gonna be the cause of the next tumblr kickstarter scam), but still! i'll read the rest later, but i highly encourage anyone who is a freak fortress fan or has any passing knowledge of it to check this shit out! the good shit!

#hall of fame #not a heritage post #woagh #freak fortress #team fortress 2

[lukabitch]

I have a request but Idk if you have ever watched the Resident evil the final chapter movie (or the rest) so i will put a spoiler warning here lmao

Spoiler :

So Wesker Like gets his leg chopped off in the end by a door (i think it was a door) and he has to stay there until everything Explodes and he dies so i wanted to ask if you could maybe write something where the male reader is down there with alice and the others but when the others left the reader Hesitates for a second and decided to like get back to wesker, help him with his leg and get him out of the place before everything explodes, I imagine that the reader and wesker always had this like villain x Hero Releationship where they tease each other but never rly make a move because they fight on different sides but because the Reader has feelings for Wesker and Wesker was always like kinda nice to us we decide to save him and he is thankful and finally makes a real move (like a small kiss or something like that and maybe a confession) but then he teases us afterwards with his stupid Attractive smirk🙄 and we just laugh it off and slap him softly at the arm while smirking too

Im just down bad for this dude rn im so sorry💀 you ofc dont have to write that, you can just ignore it but i had that in mind for a while now and i cant get it out or write it myself because im bad at like everything in my existence, have a Great day/night <3

I appreciate the amount of detail you put into this. Seriously you went above and beyond the expectations on this blog. Thank you so much for the request Anon! :)

Cw: Blood, dismemberment, general medical stuff, i read the wiki still might be inaccurate.

“We’re gotta go!” Alice called out you and the rest of the crew. Everyone was quick to make their way to the exit. You however turned back and head further into the building. Your mind was fighting against what you were doing but another part of you was saying do it.

You moved fast not wasting a second to get to Wesker. Hearing him struggle made you worried that getting him out would be useless. Still you made it down to him without a leg.“Shit hold on!” Rushing over to him you immediately tied a makeshift tourniquet just below the knee.

You pulled him up and drag him out of the building. You got him in a car and fucking floored it. The building blew up shortly after getting the fuck out. “I need you to tell me where one of your safe houses are.” He mumbled an address as you make sharp turns.

“You’re a horrible driver.” Wesker chuckled out causing you to flip him off. “Don’t make me regret not leaving your ass.” You looked over to see him giving one of his signature smirks. “You love me too much to do that pretty boy.”

You haven’t really thought about your feelings for the man. The two of you always had this banter that was kind of flirty. Even if you wanted to go for it things just wouldn’t work out. “Yeah sure that’s exactly why I went back for you.” You tried to sound sarcastic but you didn’t sound sure of it.

Pulling into a driveway you hopped out and pulled Wesker out having him lean on you. It was a bit difficult to get him inside especially without the adrenaline. You managed though and got him laying down. “Look I’m going to cauterise the wound. Unless you have morphine in your pocket it’s going to hurt.”

He just nods his head bracing himself for the pain to come. There wasn’t much to do just heat some metal and press against the open wound. Wesker took it well considering though you weren’t too shocked about that. You wrapped up the wound the best you can.

“There you go sorry that I don’t have anything to numb it.” You smiled up at him before grabbing a blanket for him. “Thank you Y/n.” He pulled you down wrapping the blanket around both of you. This definitely isn’t how you expected today to go but you weren’t complaining.

“You look like a puppy leaning against me like that.” You would have talked back if he did kiss you on the lips. He watched your face darken with blush. “Thank you for coming back for me. I love you for it.” He seemed really sincere about it.

“I love you too wesker.” You mumbled giving him a peck on the cheek. “I know you do.” Of course he has to be a cocky asshole about it. You can’t help but smile at him you really do love him.

#dbd #dead by daylight #dbd x male reader #dbd killer #request #albert wesker #albert wesker x male reader #wesker x male reader #dbd wesker #dbd mastermind #dbd fanfic #re fanfic #resdient evil #resdient evil fanfic

[awyeahitssam]

Stiles crochets magic shit. Fluff. 

His mother made cards, his father carves, and Stiles crochets. 

At first it’s just something to keep his fidgety hands busy, and by the half dozen wonky scarves and blankets it’s clear that it’s more for mental preoccupation than making something nice, but then Stiles discovers that you can actually make creatures with yarn. There are free online patterns for superheroes, Pokemon, video game characters—all of which he already likes. 

Also, some people sell that shit, and he’s been looking for a source of side income on top of babysitting and selling essays to high school kids.

So Stiles is twelve when he starts. And he’s a damn perfectionist, hiding all his first attempts away until his stitches are even and his embroidered features precise. 

It’s something to help him unwind. He can binge watch and crochet at the same time, or listen to music and audio books. Eventually the motions are ingrained enough that he only has to keep half an eye on whatever he’s doing to push his hook through the proper stitch, and the rest of his attention is devoted elsewhere. He’s even managed to read while he’s at it, going down a rabbit hole of loosely connected wiki articles. 

Stiles is 13 the first time he makes Batman, his long time favorite hero. After he’s finished sewing all the pieces together and adding the bat emblem, he holds it up to the light to inspect with a proud grin and yelps in surprise. Because the tiny arms reach out, seemingly of their own accord, and wrap around his hand in a soft hug. Stiles hadn’t used posable wire. It shouldn’t be able to bend that way and stay. 

“What the fuck,” Stiles mumbles, confounded. The doll’s embroidered straight mouth curls into an impossible smirk, and the amigurumi falls limp in his hold. The only way Stiles knows he hadn’t hallucinated it all is because the upturned lips remain instead of the straight, serious line he had embroidered. 

Stiles blinks. Tries to write it off. 

But he’s always been overly aware of mental illnesses - it comes with the territory of loving information and having a clinically insane mother - so he starts selling his creations. They’re cute and niche enough that he gets $25 to $40 a piece, and considering that the activity relaxes him and only strains his wrist… Well, it’s better than them just collecting dust in his closet. He still writes essays, and instead of pitching in on groceries he shops cheap with what his dad is willing to spend. 

Eventually he has enough for an MRI, $1,372.00 without insurance, plus a signed consent form from parent or guardian. He goes a couple of towns over, outside of Beacon County, unwilling to let the gossip reach his dad’s ears. The bill never comes - he brings a cashier’s check, less suspicious than cash - but a letter does, confirming the doctor's original findings. 

He keeps the clean bill of health tucked at the bottom of his yarn stash, and pulls it out whenever he needs reassurance. So really, whenever he finishes making something and it begins to move.

His Harry Potter tends to end up pitched off the bookshelf or in Voldemort’s lap. Don’t look at him--he has no control over them once he’s tied off the last bit of yarn and tucked it away. 

He never gets super into anime, but he does end up watching a few. And Alphonse Elric cookie jar becomes one of his proudest creations. And then of course he can’t leave Al without his older brother, plus Ed is a complete badass. Stiles is in awe of him. Someone who does that kind of alchemic calculations on the fly just to add skulls to shit is a dramatic hoe, and Stiles can respect that. Tom Riddle sits next to him on the bookshelf, because that’s where the dramatic hoes live. If Stiles ever made a Peter doll, he’d have earned his place there. 

Once werewolves become a thing, Stiles can’t help himself. He makes a Remus Lupin, and then gives him a pack of wolves in gray, black and white. They trot around his nightstand, tugging impatiently at his sleeve every time he’s assembling another packmate.

They understand, just as Stiles does, that pack is important. Scott couldn’t get that lesson through his head, but Stiles knows it to his core.

…

Stiles slips off his shoes and curls up in the nook, grabbing a 3.50mm hook and two skeins of yarn. He connects to the Wi-Fi and puts Parks & Rec on while he crochets, occasionally remembering himself enough to reach out and sip at his slowly melting blended mocha. He’s just finished Deadpool’s body when somebody sits across from him, and he pulls one earbud out with a scowl, glancing up.

Peter Hale sits across from him with a small smirk and a hot drink, eyes meeting his for a moment before he cracks open a book. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Stiles blinks at him, the intrusion hardly registering as an annoyance because Peter hasn’t started talking, and stares for another bemused moment before replacing his ear bud and hitting play.

He was relaxed in minutes, movements smooth and practiced as he started the head. He felt eyes on him, but they only stayed long enough to catch Stiles’ awareness but not make him self conscious. 

He finished off his drink and another was set in its place by the barista, who met his eyes and winked. Stiles blinked back, then smiled warmly in thanks and stopped reaching for his wallet. 

He finished off Deadpool's head and shuffled for some more materials. The small red coffee mug filled with dark brown yarn and a little extra fiber-fill to imitate steam is quick work, only the size of his fingernail and fiddly enough that he had to focus. 

He waits until the two people in line have their orders, then goes to pass off the bauble. 

The barista gasps. Her name tag says Aria, but she always takes a beat too long for it to actually be her name, so to him she’s simply the barista. 

“This—is worth more than a free coffee,” she says, not exactly a rejection. She’s clearly enchanted by the tiny piece, which is nice. Stiles does like to be appreciated, even if his talent in this is the only thing that ever seems to earn it. 

“Pretty sure you’re up to around six free coffees now,” Stiles countered with a bemused little smile. 

The barista huffs. “Don’t tell the boss,” she mumbles, taking his creation at last. 

Stiles laughs at that. The boss—Rachel Zohinder—was absolutely besotted by the barista, and wouldn’t say a word against it. “Our secret,” he agrees. 

She tilts back a smile, small but true. “Show me if you finish before you leave?” she requests. 

Stiles shrugs. Nods. 

He ignores Peter’s eyes when he slips back into the booth, gnawing at his lip absently as he feels around for his wire.

Cheers to Hook, Yarn, Sinker by pprfaith that started my crochet journey in 2016. A truly gorgeous Steter story.

#stiles #stiles stilinski #crafts #crochet #amigurumi #pure self indulgence #I forgot I wrote this

[episodeoftv]

Round 5 of 8

propaganda and summaries are under the cut (May include spoilers)

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: 6.07 Once More, With Feeling

tw for dealing with depression and suicidal thoughts

In this musical extravaganza, Sunnydale residents find themselves bursting into song, and flame, when a demon attempts to make Dawn his bride.

The greatest musical episode of all time! Pretty much all of the songs are unironically bangers, it's better choreographed and shot than frankly a lot of the bad movie musicals that have been inflicted on us in the past few years, and despite the goofy concept it still manages to tell an incredibly affecting story about the protagonist's struggle with depression. Pulls off an absolutely monumental tonal shift from comedic musical theatre homage to devastating emotional gut punch that manages to never feel tonally dissonant / Best musical episode ever (character development, lots of bops, and spontaneous combustion)

It is the best musical episode of any TV series. It is whimsical, but also far from filler and major plot beats happen while the characters sing jaunty little toons about them. Willow and Tara have sex. Spike gets and angsty alt rock song about his unrequited buffy crush. Buffy admits that when her friends resurrected her she was violently ripped out of heaven and doesn't wanna be on earth anymore. Spike and Buffy kiss. Its the best.

Invented musical episodes and is also one of the only good ones ever to have been made. Changed the game. Insane that it’s as good as it is.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Once_More,_with_Feeling_(Buffy_the_Vampire_Slayer)

Community: 2.23 A Fistful of Paintballs / 2.24 For A Few Paintballs more

tw i guess paintball guns and pretend death (?)

In a "spaghetti western" parody, Pierce tries to get revenge on the rest of the study group during this year's paintball tournament. / When the study group learns that there's a sinister plot behind the paintball tournament, they unite the remaining players to defeat the enemy.

community's paintball episodes are legendary by themselves, but i do feel like this one shows a lot of character development and a well thought out plot that involves every character and is still funny and easy enough to follow not to need a lot of concentration to watch it

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Fistful_of_Paintballs / https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/For_a_Few_Paintballs_More

#buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #community #poll #polls #round5

[xxlovelynovaxx]

Anti-endos don't get terms based around bigotry and hate so.

Stellter/starmate - A system member with star-based xenoorigins

Nova/flowerstar - A protector or persecutor starmate who "goes nova" at threats to the system

Stardust - A stargenic fragment

Ragestar - An anger and/or trauma holder over trauma from anti-endos

Nebula/swaystar - Either a new starmate or one which doesn't have a static identity to the point of often deforming and re-forming

Blackhole - A headmate that pulls in traumatic memories (often caused by anti-endos) to keep them from being accessible by the rest of the system

Stormstar - A headmate that is stormgenic and stargenic, may also be a persecutor or protector who can "storm" at threats to the system without going nova

These were stolen from someone who based all of them off of being a "former pro-endo" and "having trauma from pro-endos". As Stars, the system, it is personally offensive to make star-based terms around hating our friends and mixed origin systems like us. And makes it clear they don't actually care about traumagenic systems considering how they treat mixed origin traumagenic AND endogenic systems.

To be clear: Endogenic systems are WELCOME to use these terms, including and especially the ones involving having trauma. We know endogenic systems can have trauma and often do around endomisic bigotry. From your neighborhood mixed origin system, we love you, and you have made us feel safe and protected us from cruel exclusionist bigots.

We give blanket permission for our terms to be posted to any inclusive wikis. Let's make the inclusive definition the common one.

We also have headmates who use all of these terms.

#plural #pluralgang #pluralpunk #plural coining #plural terms #tw for endomisia mention #term recoin