#these are the kind of ideas that go through my brain because of the fever and flu

[ink-ghoul]

hOtgUy animated show where the running gag is scar conveniently losing his shirt to conveniently show his abs

#these are the kind of ideas that go through my brain because of the fever and flu #hermitcraft #I believe there's tv tropes page for this (because I think it's a thing that exists in other medias) #this can be also sometimes be intentional (like for a final battle or something)

[not-magdi]

"Us, Forever"

Summary: Pablo can't believe how lucky he got with you, he really can't believe it 

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N

I managed to get Corona! The one time I would have had time to write something I got Corona and a Fever that cooked my brain. But, now my test is negative again and my brain is producing ideas like crazy! 

Hope you like this one though,

Love you guys Magdi <3

You didn't know what to think when you saw his pain-filled expression on TV. You sat there, completely frozen, worry the only thing on your mind.   

When you heard his sobs over the phone as he told you how bad it was, your heart shattered into a million pieces. That day made you realise that from that moment on, you had to be the strong one in this relationship. 

It made you realise that he needed you to be the one he could lean on, the one Pablo could let his guard down, somebody that could be strong for him too. So he didn't have to be all the time. 

You made it to your mission to do everything in your power to help him in any way possible. You rebuilt your living room into a bedroom, so he didn't have to go up any stairs. You held him day and night when the pain got too strong, and the only thing he could do was cry. 

"Baby, I'm here ... I'm here for you. Let it all out I got you."

His grip on your hoddie was so hard that his knuckles turned white. You wrapped your arms around him like you wanted to protect him from everything terrible that this world threw at him. 

Pablo felt safe in your arms. Your sent calmed him down. The warmth of your body engulfed him in a comforting manner. 

He buried his face deeper into your neck as he felt his breath starting to slow down again. 

"T-Thank you, I-I'm sorry. I don't know what happened."

You grabbed his head to make him look at you. You assured him, "Hey, it's completely ok to feel like shit sometimes. What you are going through is nothing easy. Sometimes you just have to let it all out." 

Kissing his head, you stand up to grab something to eat for the two of you. Seeing that it was already 6 in the morning, you decided to start the day, knowing you two wouldn't fall asleep anymore. 

Pablo kept lying on the couch. The pain in his knee was now only a dull ache. He sat up a bit to be able to see you rummaging through his kitchen drawers, trying to find something to eat.

An unconscious smile makes its way onto his face. He can't get his head around how you are willing to do all of this for him. Like he really doesn't know what he would do without you. You'd do everything for him, he doesn't even have to ask for it. 

But it scared him that you wanted to help him so much. It frightened him that one day, you could wake up and realise how much work it was to be in a relationship with him. And that you would leave him because of that.

Realistically, something like that would never happen, but he was a chronicle overthinker, so let him be. 

When you came back from the kitchen with two plates in your hand, you sensed something was bothering him, but you wanted him to tell you on his own. 

You two ate your breakfast in silence, it was a weird kind of silence. You felt that Pablo wanted to tell you something the whole time, but nothing came. He just sat there and played around with his food. 

"You not hungry?" 

Looking like a child who got caught doing something stupid, he shakes his head and lowers his gaze again, not able to hold eye contact with you for so long. 

Thinking he wouldn't say anything at all. You were about to say something when you heard him say. "How do you do it?" 

Confused, you look at him. "What do you mean?" 

"I mean, like ... like how do you keep up with me?" 

Your confusion didn't get any better. You looked up from your plate and saw Pablo already staring at you, a curious yet slightly sad expression on his face. 

Pablo noticed your confused expression and continued to talk. 

" I mean, how can you keep up with literally having to be my server? You are cancelling your plans to stay home with me and do everything to keep me comfortable. You put my life before yours. Why do you do that? I-I don't understand. "

You loved him deeply and didn't see your efforts as a burden. It was natural for you to do what you could to help him. You couldn't enjoy yourself while he was suffering because it felt wrong to you.

Your silence made Pablo panic a bit, maybe he made you realise that you didn't want to live like that. What if you were actually sick of him needing care 24/7 now? 

Your voice interrupted his inner monologue, " I have no clue, to be honest. It's just - the second I heard you were injured, I felt like I had to take care of you, to help you somehow." 

You took a second to think of your following words. "When I heard you crying on the phone that day, I just felt the need to protect you, to take care of you. I know that you are a capable individual who can handle things on your own, but I want you to know that I love you with all my heart. When you care about someone deeply, it's natural to want to do everything in your power to ensure their well-being. So, even though I trust your abilities, I just want to remind you that I'm here for you if you ever need help or support. Your happiness and safety mean everything to me, and I'll always do my best to make sure you're feeling okay."

Hearing Pablo sniff made you stop your rambling and look at him. 

"Dios mio, these medications make me emotional." 

Pablo let out a wet chuckle as he wiped his tearing eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. 

You smiled at the boy before you and leaned down to place a kiss on his red nose. "I don't care, I love you one tear more or less isn't gonna change that."

"I love you too, so so much." 

#pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi oneshot #gavi x reader #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi #gavi x you #fc barcelona #fc barça

[weebsinstash]

They often say food can be a language of love, and one of the things that started driving Suguru into a deeper depression was eating curses that tasted horribly disgusting and then also not being able to eat normal food, so I was thinking about a story concept where Reader through whatever means can actually give Geto his sense of taste back and actually ease the discomfort he experiences when eating curses, and he forms a deep gratitude/obsession/love because of it

Obviously i publish yandere stuff but it doesn't mean up in Brain Land that I don't think of other ideas, action, adventure, what not, and recently I've been thinking of -also this was kind of for yandere purposes too actually lmao- Reader having a technique along the lines of "Cursed Memory Manipulation"

You can manipulate curses just like Geto, only you do it by affecting their memories into thinking you're an ally or friend or master or whatever gets them to obey. There are limits, but if it's some mindless creature, you're basically a Pokemon trainer. But I was thinking, can you imagine being his classmate who he has way too much depression to fully pay attention to, he's eating less, he's losing weight, losing sleep, and one day you're eating lunch near him and see he's struggling to keep food down, and he leaks vague details about how he keeps thinking about the taste of curses and how food doesn't taste the same.

Here you are, genuinely wanting to help him, just casually like, "well, what if I take a bite of this food, and then when you take a bite, I put my memory of what it tasted like in your head while we eat together" and it's some spur of the moment idea that he's too tired to argue against you about, so he does it to humor you and get it over with and. It works? It actually works??? He can taste and the world is beautiful again?

Oh sure, it starts off sharing lunches with him, but he's basically unable to normally eat without you, so, he all but glues himself to you at all times so you can eat all your meals together. At his worst, a yandere Geto would just immediately outright insist on if not demand marriage, because how ELSE are you two going to share every meal together? He may even force you to cook for him to make the meals you two eat all the more special. You're just his little Patron Saint of Snacks who can actually give him an appetite again

And I guess as a bonus, the idea I was originally tacking the concept of Cursed Memory Manipulation onto was, vague but, it was the idea of, what if Reader is losing a fight and is at genuine risk of being killed and you use your technique to fill your attacker with memories of you, and maybe you don't exactly have time to think and it turns out to be something really personal, something really intimate, whatever can get this person or creature or curse or whatever to stop attacking you. Sukuna suddenly remembering you as an old flame who he suddenly has too many fond memories of fucking to simply kill you. Mahito stops himself from slicing you open when he's suddenly recalling playing all kinds of games with you, running around as kids, memories of a childhood that didn't exist yet appeals to his young heart.

It's also totally different but I've also thought about 1. What if Sukuna gets in Itadori and finds out the young man isnt all there when it comes to you with Sukuna absorbing some of Yuuji's feelings for you, and then when he jumps to, his current host, HE ALSO had feelings for you, so now Sukuna is like secondhand driven mad with yandere fever and 2. What if after Kenjaku bodysnatches Geto, he runs into you again one day and all of Suguru's repressed and Strong STRONG feelings for you start surging forth and Kenjaku just HAS to keep you around as his new pet at the very least because he just can't shake all these new obsessive thoughts and the literal goosebumps he gets when he looks at you

#yandere jjk #yandere x reader #yandere suguru geto #suguru x reader #i dunno what tags people use for him #sinprompts #yandere stuff

[with-my-murder-flute]

TLT theory: Aim, Jod, and the second part of the message

My brain is fevered. I feel like I've constructed an elaborate Pepe Silvia corkboard in my mind, and it feels like it makes sense of everything, but I honestly have no clue if that certainty will last very long.

I think I know what the Messenger is carrying. I think I know why John has waited ten thousand years.

Spooky preview quote from HtN chapter 2:

I mastered Death, Harrowhark; I wish I’d done the smarter thing and mastered Time.

Spoilers for Gideon, Harrow, and Nona the Ninth.

BoE's chronology has always been kind of weird to me: Five thousand years after the Resurrection happens, they pop up with intense and detailed knowledge of the 21st century! Jod destroys languages and cultures and societies, but BoE keeps popping up! How.

Originally I thought the continuous thread over the years was a Lyctor who helped them (and the necromantic implant does seem to point that way) but I also think part of it is that the ships that escaped just before Earth's devastation have been showing up one by one, over a huge span of time. That's why Wake says "My long-dead natal sun" and can quote Eminem at length; she spent ten thousand years suspended in time, before re-entering it.

NtN, John 19:18:

They said they’d managed to find some poor dipshit geek who’d fixed the FTL problem of getting locked in the chrono well, you know, moving so fast you were stuck doing quantum wheelies. They’d come up with something where you could oscillate out so long as the ship was attuned to a prearranged spectrum outside. I still don’t understand the maths. It’s going to take me ten thousand years to understand it. I couldn’t follow, but A— could. He said immediately, What is the point if you still have no fucking clue where your ship is going to end up when you shake out of FTL. They said, Aha, but we can track it once it’s out. A— said, It could be halfway across the universe or phasing through a planet. They kept arguing that probably wouldn’t happen [...] They said it was expensive, so twelve ships would go first, with one guiding them out with the beacon frequencies like a tugboat leading a cruise liner, triangulate for Tau Ceti, dump the population, and come back.

I think that AIM's message is the beacon that will call the last of the FTL fleet out of the chrono well. They are "we", they are the first of two parts, because their identity is the person they were before coming the Messenger, and the ships that still haven't oscillated back into three-dimensional space yet, because they are under AIM's personal guardianship/intimately tied to possession of her body.

NtN, John 5:4

I think the only reason I haven’t done it already is that I can’t bear the idea that I wouldn’t be able to touch them—that they’d still be out there …

I think Jod has been at this for so long because he is waiting for an event that could literally take an infinite amount of time to occur. He hasn't killed the entire colonized population yet because he wants something out of them, and it doesn't seem to be labour or devotion or even thanergy.

I think he's looking for the fleet's beacon, in a way that's like lighting a grassfire to flush animals out of hiding and deprive them of shelter. I think he's constantly killing planets and relocating and resettling populations before funnelling them together again, like a distillery trying to heat and separate different liquids as they move from flask to flask, because he wants to finally decant the key to the last ships that escaped him.

#lis's tlt theories #the locked tomb spoilers #the locked tomb #ntn spoilers #gtn spoilers #htn spoilers

[beechersnope]

loscar sexting

trans oscar, fwb, mild feminization, 1284 words

(very open to continuing this if people want!)

***

“I hate this.”

“What?” Logan asks, sounding just as smiley as ever, though there’s no way for Oscar to know for sure over the phone.

Oscar flops onto his back and sighs up at the ceiling of his corporate flat. “Not having a girlfriend.”

“I thought you liked being single.”

“I do,” Oscar replies. He’s already regretting bringing this up, knows Logan will poke and prod until his curiosity is satisfied. “But….”

“But what?” Logan asks, right on cue.

“I dunno. I guess it was just nice knowing I could get laid whenever I wanted.” He mumbles through the last bit, a flush coming to his cheeks. He hides his face in the pillow instinctively, even though Logan isn’t there to see it.

“So you don’t need a girlfriend. You need a fuckbuddy.”

Logan’s voice is muffled now, and Oscar has to roll back over to reply.

“Kind of difficult to do something like that now that we’re like, on TV and shit,” Oscar points out. “I don’t want some random girl—or bloke—posting my nudes online.”

He’d had fevered nightmares about that exact scenario on occasion, though he knows it isn’t the sort of thing his ex would do. At the same time, there was a part of him that found the idea kind of exciting, his body becoming jerkoff material for strangers, being desired because of his body rather than despite it.

Logan just laughs. “What’s wrong with hooking up with someone you already know?”

“Like who?” Oscar wracks his brain trying to think of who is even available at the moment. The Venn diagram between his single friends and the ones he thinks would actually want to fuck him is narrower than he would like.

“Like me,” Logan says, and all the breath whooshes out of Oscar’s lungs like he’s been punched in the gut.

It takes him a few seconds to compose himself. “What?” Oscar says, voice shooting up an octave higher than normal.

“What?” Logan parrots back. “I’m single, you’re single. We both have busy schedules. We can just…sext each other or something when we’re horny. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

Oscar doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t want to admit that he’s horny now, that this conversation has already gotten him wet and wanting, that he’s weighing the feasibility of getting a hand between his thighs and inside himself without alerting Logan to what he’s doing. But maybe Logan wants to know. Why else would he suggest something like that?

“Okay,” Oscar says at last.

“Cool,” Logan replies, sounding perfectly nonchalant about it, as though they’re just making plans to hit up a pub or something the next time he’s in England. “Anyway, I like, totally need to make dinner still and get some sleep, but I’ll text you, okay?”

“Okay,” Oscar says again, the words ‘I’ll text you’ rattling around in his brain like a bag of marbles. Does he mean texting like, texting? Or something more?

Oscar doesn’t get his answer until the following morning, while he’s in the gym with his trainer. His phone buzzes against his thigh; he ignores it until he’s finished with his reps and then pulls it out of his gym shorts under the baleful glare of his trainer, who would definitely ban Oscar from having his phone on him at all during their workouts if he could.

Oscar sees Logan’s name and nearly drops his phone. “I, um, need to get this,” he says before sprinting out of the gym and into the hallway, where he makes a sharp right and beelines straight into the nearest toilet.

It’s a gender-neutral toilet with a lock on the door. Oscar ducks inside and plants himself firmly on the seat before pulling his phone back out to read Logan’s text. He’s going to feel like a chump if it ends up being something stupid, like a screenshot of Logan’s K/D ratio in Call of Duty or something.

It’s not.

i really need to cum

hey u busy?

Oscar’s hands are shaking as he types out his reply.

no i’m not busy

He waits a minute or two, not sure what he’s supposed to do next. Finally, Logan replies.

can u send me something

A few seconds later, a picture comes through. It’s nothing particularly artistic, just a slightly out-of-focus photo of Logan’s hand framing the very obvious tent in his gym shorts. Oscar is doubly appreciative of the fact that they’re white, affording him a better view than if Logan had gone with a darker color. He wonders if Logan had picked them on purpose.

im already hard

Oscar gawps at the photo for a minute, basking in the warmth seeping down from his head to his toes, a pleasant throb making itself known between his thighs the longer he looks. Then he finally remembers that he needs to send something back.

And Oscar doesn’t really know what to send. He’s never sexted before, not even with his ex-girlfriend. She’d been content to follow him around everywhere during the F2 series, so they’d had sex whenever one of them was in the mood for it, and that was about it. Before her, Oscar had been a virgin, too afraid of being vulnerable to sleep around with anyone like all the other boys on the grid.

Oscar pulls his shorts down and stares at the wiry hair covering his crotch. He doesn’t think Logan would say anything bad about it, but it doesn’t feel like there’s much fanfare in sending someone a picture of just your pubes. He takes off his shirt instead, conscious of the softness of his pecs, his wide pink nipples, the gentle swell of his tummy where he should be flat, like Logan. Oscar doesn’t know if Logan will think he’s sexy; he doesn’t even know if he finds himself sexy, but he angles the phone camera down towards himself as he shoves a free hand past the waistband of his shorts and snaps a pic just as he strokes a finger down the hard ridge of his clit.

Oscar is too afraid to look at the photo before he sends it. He immediately goes back to the home screen as soon as the text goes through, and then he shoves his phone down between his thighs and closes his eyes.

It’s at least a minute before Oscar feels it vibrate again, the sensation coursing through him thanks to his phone’s proximity to his cunt—though he hadn’t intended for that in the moment. His breathing comes out in short bursts as he opens the newest message from Logan.

It’s a voice note.

Oscar takes one look at the door separating him from a gym full of professional athletes and makes a split-second decision. He turns the volume down on his phone almost all the way and hits play before quickly jamming the phone against his ear to hear whatever Logan had sent.

A hot thrill sizzles down his spine at the harsh breathing crackling over his phone’s speaker. There’s a hushed ‘fuck’ exhaled through a heavy sigh, then the unmistakable sound of Logan’s hand, slick with something, sliding over his cock, rough and fast.

“Fuck, your tits,” Logan groans into Oscar’s ear, and Oscar nearly drops the phone on the floor. “God, I wish I could come all over you. Fuck.”

It only takes two fingers roughly shoved inside himself under his shorts before Oscar is coming with a choking sob, and it’s only afterwards, as he slumps back against the wall and shudders through the aftershocks of his orgasm that he realizes he probably should have recorded a voice note for Logan, too.  

#f1 smut #f1 rpf #loscar #my fic #this concept gave me brainworms all of a sudden so i needed to write it

[dokidokitsuna]

Slowly, I think I’m getting a handle on this…I tried studying the character art from my favorite dead MMORPG, Maple Story 2, and I think it helped me find a style for the shading and rendering that’s more dramatic but still sort of cartoony.

Plus, I’ve been doing a bit of script writing, which always helps me figure things out. ^^ So please enjoy the additional work I’ve done on these character concepts.

-Between these two, Magolor definitely needed the most work: you can tell because I basically drew a full character design sheet, which is something I almost never do because I don’t like repetition. XP But it doesn’t feel repetitive when I’m totally lost to begin with. ^^; I think I got a little too abstract that first time I drew him, so my focus here was to figure out the specific shape of his body and rebuild outward from there. In stark contrast to my usual Magolor designs, he’s very tall and muscular, with an imposing silhouette (especially with his cape on). Yes, he IS hiding something under all those purple bandages, but we won’t talk about it today. ;)

-I also like that his outfit gets darker the further inside you go, from the solid white cape and glittering chains, to the silver armor and gray scarves, to the skintight navy blue fit underneath. Symbolism??? Perhaps~

-Blade’s design was already pretty solid, so I just adjusted her cape a little, and then dove straight into the Rainbow Malady concept art. ^^ Phase 1 has her sprout a second eye and wings on one side of her face. Her head catches fire, as the power of the Rainbow Sword attempts to ‘burn away the darkness’. In this phase, Blade is already in a lot of pain, but remains fully conscious and can even speak, when she isn’t coughing up multicolored blood. She can recover from this on her own with a day of rest. Phase 2 is much more serious, forcing her organs outside of her body, and growing star-shaped welts over the rest of her skin. At this point, she can no longer recover without Magolor’s help-- essentially, he uses magic to shove all her organs back where they belong and stitch up the open wounds. It’s like setting a bone after it’s broken-- just as painful as the injury itself (if not more), but necessary for proper healing…which takes about a week.  Phase 3 is the last and worst, transforming her arms into elongated wings and her whole body into burning plasma, on top of all the issues from Phase 2. Thankfully, she can’t really remain conscious in this phase-- she’s usually delirious from fever, blood loss, and her brain literally burning away. ^^; Storywise, she needs about a month to recover from this, so she doesn’t use it too often…of course, as the 'player', you can put her through it as many times as you want. =T

-Fun fact, I guess: So the primary love language between these two characters is food. ^^ I was musing about what I could do with a protagonist arc centered around worsening illness (which is…surprisingly rare), and I thought, “so what do you do for sick people? You put them to bed, you manage their symptoms, you clean and comfort them…and most importantly, you feed them.” And then ^that little doodle basically came to me in a dream, and from there evolved the idea of Magolor showing kindness to Blade by cooking for her.

Most of the time, the little affection Magolor shows to Blade is…basically performative. Think of it like a hammy supervillain petting their cat-- it’s more of a character stim than anything else. ^^; The way Magolor talks to Blade (and especially the way he talks about her…) makes it clear that the hand-holding and headpats don’t mean much.

But on the other hand, giving Blade food and watching her cutely devour it, especially during the times when she’s bed-ridden and he doesn’t see her as often…I like to think that might genuinely endear her to him a little, enough to make it a sort of stand-out gesture. Like, if he strokes her forehead when she’s sick, that’s whatever; but when he spends 5 hours making a Maxim tomato consommé for her to eat, that’s him trying to say he cares. Maybe it’s just a tiny bit, maybe it’s just in that moment, but a small part of him truly wants her to be happy.

#i think the brain worms are gonna stop now that I’ve finally gotten this out #maybe I’ll try doodling some of the boss characters later on #kirby #gijinka #au #BLADE_Princess #magolor #dark matter swordsman

[kteezy997]

be my baby daddy-part one// T.C.

warnings: brief mention of male anatomy

it was time.

you were in your mid-twenties. everyone you knew was having a kid or already had one or more. baby fever had been through the roof for you the last year or so. you didn't have a husband or boyfriend, and didn't see that changing anytime soon, so you decided to just go for it and have a child on your own.

but there was a slight technicality. you needed sperm to make a baby. other than going to a sperm bank and paying for a sample from a total stranger, you had another idea.

there was no better specimen to reproduce with than Timothee Chalamet. now, you two were friends, and had been for years. you crushed on him in the shadows, believing that he'd never been interested in you. you were fine with that, and happy to have him in your life as friend, rather than not at all. you never risked your friendship by telling him how you really felt.

time, and seeing him with a handful of girlfriends and random one-night stands helped the feelings fade a little bit over time. the feelings, though still present to this day, weren't as strong as they once were. thankfully so, because you didn't want anything to get in the way of what you wanted to ask of Timmy.

"Wait, what??!!" he asked you, total off-guard look on his face and eyebrows scrunched as he looked at you like you were losing your mind.

you softened your voice, "Can I use your sperm to have a baby?" his eyes widened as your words fully sunk into his brain. you saw him swallow a lump in his throat out of nervousness. "Okay, hear me out. I've thought about this a lot, and rather than getting it from some stranger, I'd see if you would have it in your heart to help me?"

"More like...in my balls?"

"Timmy, I'm serious here."

"I know, I know." he cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair and got comfortable before he said, "Okay, go on."

"You're one of my best friends. You're smart and kind and fun to be around. Not to mention extremely talented and handsome, of course." you hoped he didn't see you blush when you spoke. "I would just love for my future child to have those amazing qualities."

"That's very flattering, y/n. I just can't believe this, really." He shook his head and brought his hand to his chin, just fumbling idly.

"Just know that, if we do this, I don't expect anything more from you. You do not have to do anything for the baby. That's not why I chose you. I would never expect a relationship between you and me or for you to be a father to the kid, nothing like that. I just want to have a baby."

"But y/n you're beautiful, you're amazing, you could have any guy you want." Timmy said, his tone was that of a sincere, caring friend. He leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table.

"Where is he though?" you asked, looking at Timmy, but talking into the void. "I don't want a man. I've been through enough relationships; I just want to be a mother. I feel like it's time for me." you insisted, wanting him to realize how deeply you've thought about this.

He nodded, his hand back on his chin, his fingers softly rubbing his jawline. "Okay," he cleared his throat, "just let me think about it."

"Of course," you said, touching his other hand that lay on the table, "take all the time you need to, and thank you for even thinking about it, for considering it." You smiled, "You're a good friend, Timmy."

He gently gripped your hand back in response and gave you a soft smile.

#timothée imagine #timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee x reader

[ladyosiriscreates]

Goodness I just read your amazing Soap one shot! So good! Could I ask for Gaz taking care of an unwell female reader (totally not based on my current situation at all)? Thank you 🖤

I kept looking at this so many times in just pure disbelief. HELLO GREATSTORMCAT I love reading your drabbles they're truly a treat to read. Also I love Gaz he is one of my favorites. Rudy Parra is also my beloved. and if you would like something NSFW from him just leave another ask/idea and I will write it because I have FEELINGS AND IDEAS.

I'm in a Sickbed, but at least it's Yours.

Gaz x Fem!Reader for the opulent @greatstormcat (3.2k words)

Tags: Illness, insecurity, fluff, comfort, so much fucking comfort, this man was made to love someone, mutual pining that just boils over,

You had known it was coming. The dregs of winter that brought along pressure drops that threatened to blow your sinuses through the rest of your head. Fever, aches, chills and the incessant fog around your head that clouded everything and led your body to exhaustion… man fuck that.

For the first few days, you thought you might be dying.

But today, you certainly wished it was so. Because surely it would be a greater mercy than whatever fuckery your body was fighting off. 

And that was what led you to now, standing in the kitchen of an apartment that wasn’t yours, wearing soft pajamas that certainly didn’t belong to you, and staring at a fridge that looked familiar- but also wasn’t yours. 

“...C’mon luv, you’ve been staring at my closed fridge door for the better part of fifteen minutes. And as fucking hilarious as it might be to see you disassociate to the hum of it, I’m half afraid you’ll keel over if you take another step.” Came a kind voice, soft laughter permeating the hazy, unpleasant fog of ick that hung around your brain. Turning your head, you met the warm, impossibly dark eyes of one Kyle Garrick. Your long term friend.

Friend.

Why had he always been just a friend?

You two had revolved around each other from the moment you met, always within each others orbit though barely ever colliding.

For that matter… how had you gotten here? And when?

“Gaz?” You slurred, voice light as you grabbed onto the counter. “Don’t think I’m home right now.” Gentle arms encircled your body, coaxing you into his chest despite your weak protests. “No you can’t, ‘m sick, and if you get sick i’m damn near certain your team’ll hunt me for sport. And I promise that is not how I’d like to be hunted.”

But your protests fell on deaf ears as you were lifted into his arms. Which seemed to be for the better with how the room spun as he did. “S’alright, I’m on leave for the next two weeks anyways. I can afford a little bit of sickness. But I believe you when you say you’re not home.” He teased. “Not a whole lot goin’ on in that pretty little head?”

“Well it fuckin’ hurts.” You retorted with a scoff, arms easing around his shoulders as you nestled into the crook of his neck. The gentle scent of mint and earth churned at your senses, weaving their way through your stuffed sinuses to bring comfort to your humming mind. “You think my head is pretty?”

“That’s what you got out of that?” Kyle chuckled in return, shaking his head as he took you past the threshold of his own bedroom and laying you against his bed, sitting at its edge. But you didn’t let go. Like a lifeline you clung to his neck, keeping him bent over you before pulling your head back to meet his gaze.

Perhaps it was the soft light cascading through the window, pale gold in the setting sun, but he shimmered in your vision- elegance and refined beauty. “...If I were more selfish a woman, I’d tell you what I’m thinking.” you whispered, eyes flitting in a triangle between his own eyes, and the lips that were now pursed.

“If I were more selfish a man, luv, I’d keep you in this bed- my bed, and never let you up from it. But maybe that’s just your fever talking…” He soothed, reaching up to untangle your arms from his shoulders and laying you back down. When you protested, he cupped your cheek, thumb rubbing small circles into the feverish skin. “You don’t know how worried I was when you texted me.”

Your brows furrowed, lips parting slightly as you glanced around. “I… texted you?” Surely not- but actually… where was your phone again?

“I’m not sure what you were trying to say, but the words help, medicine and sick were all in it. And all misspelled. You had me worried, and the state I found you in wasn’t much better. Laying under a heap of blankets and groaning to yourself about how death would be better than this?” He teased, but beneath the lighthearted nature, even now you could see it, that concern. The genuine care he possessed. Selfishly, you wished it was only for you.

“So you came?” you asked, unable to hide your own surprise.

“Of course.” Gaz whispered, huffing out a small laugh. “I always come when you call. Kinda wish you’d call more, sweetheart.” 

Finally, you allowed yourself to surrender back into the softness of his bed, suddenly enveloped by an almost overwhelming sense of him. “I have a fever.” You explained quietly.

“Yes, I know this.” he replied.

“I’m hoping it’s high enough I won’t remember this tomorrow, depending on how it goes.” You muttered, lifting a hand to drag across your congested and stuffy nose- what a great way to start things. “...I hate you. No. wait. No, that's definitely not right.” You scoffed, clenching your jaw. “I hate… when you’re not around. I hate being apart from you. I hate the way you make me feel when I know you’re just being kind and genuine. I hate wanting you more than a plant craves the sun-”

Kyle’s eyes grew wider as you spoke, these words the clearest to fall from your tongue since he’d picked you up this morning. And though it seemed you weren’t done speaking, he carefully stole your hand from your face, placing your fingertips to his lips for a moment. “My turn?”

“Your turn.” came your reply, meek beneath the sudden warmth of his voice.

“I hate being apart from you too. I hate feeling like we’re in this dance but always with different partners, and at most I can catch your eye from the other side of a ballroom- but your card is always full and I’m never sure if there’s more room for me.” He hummed, massaging your palm as he held your hand delicately within his own. “I hate that you keep me at arms length because you’re afraid of seeming weak, that the world has made you so afraid to be vulnerable- while you still crave the ability to be so.”

His words floated through your sick-addled brain, finding yourself eager to drown in the sound of his voice. “It’s hard..”

“I know luv. But I want you to let me in. I want to be there for you. I’d drop everything and run if you called my name for even a moment.” He promised, reaching up to push sweat slicked strands of hair from your face.

“I’m a mess.” You argued.

“Then let me help you clean it up. I’m by no means perfect either, as much as you might try to put me on a pedestal. Seeing each other clearly is the best thing we could do, because…  I… I want more. Maybe I always have. But falling into step with you is easier than falling into anything else.” he exclaimed, glancing toward his window at the golden light that began to fade, growing warmer as the sun dipped beneath the horizon. “I won’t say I can fix you, because I don’t fucking think you’re broken. The fact you’re still here is proof of that.”

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, the feeling dulled by the fog of exhaustion that had snuck its way around your body. “Am i dreaming?”

“Do you want to be?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“...I don’t know. I’m scared.”

“Me too, but honestly- I’m more terrified of going through life wondering what this could have been if I hadn’t told you.” Kyle admitted, his weight making the bed dip, your body rolling slightly in towards him.

“Kyle…” you breathed, forcing your eyes open, desperate to meet his. “Tell me again when I wake up in the morning. Promise me it isn’t a dream then… because if you say it again, I’ll believe you. God, I want to believe you.” You exclaimed, voice pitched as your lids fell heavy again. “My walls have always been made of glass when it came to you… and you, fucking… stupid, handsome, pure as sunlight you… carried a hammer with you all along.”

Kyle nearly gawked in return, your words painting a most vivid landscape and technicolor sky. A lilac sunrise when he hadn’t known purple was his favorite color.  “Luv, I’ll tell it to you every day until you have no choice but to believe it. So for now, sleep. I’ll bring you back some medicine and warm ginger tea…”

“But… you don’t even like tea?” you mumbled, a bit of surprise coloring your tone.

“Yeah, but I like you. You’d be surprised at the pieces of you I keep with me when I wasn’t able to have the real thing.” He explained, resting a hand atop your head so that he might soothingly stroke at your hair, the repeated notion lulling you into slumber. “...but I’ll admit none of it compares to having you here and now.”

When morning came there was a soft weight on your chest- warm, but not unpleasant. Different than the weight of stuffiness and congestion, of the phlegm and cough that had been plaguing you. As your eyes opened and you shifted up to prop yourself on an elbow, you found Gaz beside you in a chair, his head resting on your hip as he slumbered. It couldn’t have been comfortable, draping himself over the edge of his own bed. But like a flood the memories returned, gentle touches and words spoken beneath a setting sun. Every piece of him draped in gold and idolatry.

You pressed your hand to his cheek, before turning your head into your shoulder and coughing. Not truly the way you would have preferred it, but the end goal was the same as he lifted his head, giving you a dizzying smile as he pushed himself up on his arms.

“Mornin’ sweetheart. Get some better sleep last night?” He hummed, voice a bit warmer and gravelly than usual.

For once you’re happy that you don’t currently possess a hold of all your mental faculties,  as otherwise you very well may have jumped him right there. But instead, like a reasonably more dignified moron, you found yourself nodding. “...I’m in your bed.”

“Astute observation skills, you should be a detective with that level of perception.” He taunted, reaching to the bedside table and bringing back a mug of now cooled, half drank tea. “It’ll be bitter as hell, but let’s get a bit of fluid into you before you try to get up, sweetheart.”

“Kyle, I'm in your bed.” You stressed again. 

“Yes and it’s about time, really.” He sighed, grin cheeky as he watched you go through phases of surprise and confusion. “Alright, alright, calm down Inspector Gadget. You’re gonna give yourself an aneurysm thinking that hard.”

With a steady hand you stole the mug of tea, that even cold, you could tell was your favorite, made just the way you’d prepare it- how long had he known such fine minutiae of your being. How long had he been memorizing the way you existed so he could mimic it for your comfort. “...am not.” You muttered, giving him a half-hearted withering glare over the mug of tea.

The bed dipped again as he sat upon it, pulling you forward by your shoulder before pressing his lips to your forehead. Time itself seemed to suspend, small bits of dust hanging in the air as you relished in the feeling of soft lips and a gentler hand upon your forehead. “I think your fevers finally broken… which makes sense, you seem a bit more with it this morning. I’m relieved.”

Dumbfounded, you lifted your gaze to his lips as he pulled back, before finding their way ever higher to meet the amused deep brown eyes that could churn you like the earth itself. “I feel a bit better today.” You finally admitted, finding your voice again- as thick as it was. “I can probably head home-”

“No.” He exclaimed, shaking his head. “Shoulda known the first thing you’d try to do is free yourself like you think you’re a burden at my side.” Kyle sighed, clenching his jaw for a moment before standing up. Fear struck you, like a white hot iron at your spine. You didn’t want him to leave.

The fear was only present for a moment before you were lifted by your hips and pushed back against the headboard, Kyle climbing atop the bed to straddle your waist and pin your shoulders. “I need you to pay attention, sweetheart.”

Inhaling sharply, you could do little but nod, meeting his gaze with wide eyes and blown pupils. If you weren’t still sick, the places your mind went would trail ever darker. Even now, you could imagine the feel of his lips attacking every sensitive spot from your throat to inner wrist.

“You told me I had to tell you this again, and I should have known you were serious.” He exclaimed, one hand climbing until he cradled your chin between his thumb, pointer and middle finger. “I’m in love with you- and trust me, falling in love with one of my best friends hadn’t been the plan, but God above it was so easy. You are so easy to love, not just for the positive attributes you put on display for everyone, but for the pieces of yourself you show me when we’re alone. For the way you allow yourself to crumble and break just a little bit when you’re with me. For being my safe space. So yes, I meant it last night when I said I wanted you to stay and be with me. Because I’m in love with your dense ass. Just like you’re in love with me. I hate being apart from you. And I hate that we overthink ourselves into these goddamn ruts and it’s kept us apart for even longer than-”

His words were more than enough, but the mounting desperation in his voice, his gaze was enough to spurn you, hands reaching up and cradling his cheeks. “You’re right.” you interrupted softly. “I’m in love with you. Your diligence, your determination… I love all of it, Kyle. When we’re out with friends all I care about is seeing you, because if you’re enjoying yourself then I feel like I can enjoy things too. You make my soul sing, and when it does it’s just trying to mimic whatever you’re humming.”

Kyle’s face broke into a grin, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he pulled your forehead to his. “We’re idiots.” He admitted. “Took us far too long to get here.”

“What matters is that we got here- and I-” unceremoniously the moment was shattered as you abruptly turned away and coughed, groaning through the interrupted moment. “Fuck.”

“You fuck?”

“I take it back, I hate you.” You groaned, hearing the musical rumble of his laugh as he let up off of you, popping out two pills from the packaging on the bedside table. 

“No you don’t.” Kyle teased, taking a sip from your mug and tossing the pills into his mouth before grabbing your chin and inclining your head. There was barely a moment to question it before you were met with the feeling of lukewarm tea and medicine pouring past your lips. It was nearly seamless, only a few droplets slipping from your lips as you swallowed back the tea. But for a moment, you both lingered there, the taste of ginger and orange stinging at your lips before leaning into him, unwilling to part with what you’d finally found.

No, you didn’t hate Kyle Garrick. There was little he could do to truly anger you, so hating him was out of the question. He accepted your surrender by wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into his arms as he deepened the kiss. It was warm, making up for lost time. Like two galaxies finally collapsing into each other and spinning into something beautiful and new. You didn’t part until you were breathless, which was unfortunately much sooner than you would have liked.

“You’re gonna get sick.” you whispered.

“If that means I get to stay in bed with you for the rest of my leave, I think it’ll be worth it.” He promised, slowly slumping over onto his side before drawing you into his embrace. He massaged slow, soothing circles into your lower back, his other hand keeping your head tucked against his chest. “I made some soup for you last night, pots on the stove so I can get it simmering again soon.” Kyle murmured. “Stay with me? Ride this out- just stay for the rest of my leave?”

Your laugh, as small as it was, seemed like true music to his ears. A heavenly chorus to a man who hadn’t believed in years. “I’ll stay. Maybe I’ll get the turn to play caretaker once you get sick from kissing me, dumbass.”

“All part of the plan.”

“There’s no plan, Kyle.” You snorted, though your gaze was warm and soft as you both stayed trapped against the sheets.

“Well… just existing with you is good too.” He promised, lips turning up as he brought your foreheads together.

The next two days were spent in a most confusing sort of reverie. Anytime you moved, Kyle shadowed you, his hands covering and guiding yours. Grabbing things before you could think to want them, even carrying you from his bed to his couch as he bundled you up before situating himself beside you. He kept you hydrated, setting timers for your meds and keeping you nearby when your weakened body slept. But as your body grew stronger, the telltale signs of illness began to take their toll on Kyle.

You laughed, as three days later you were nearly normal, and he was standing in the kitchen, head bowed and lips pouty as he looked at you beneath thick lashes.

“I did warn you.” You chastised, moving forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“No regrets.” He grumbled, spinning you in his arms to rest his head atop yours, and keep his hands on your waist. “Think of it as a return on investment.”

“Then I guess we’ll be investing forever, hm?” You teased, chuckling softly as you allowed your weight to lean back into his.

“Rich in love and rich in life… I love you.” Kyle sighed, somehow looking forward to the rest of the week and a half ahead of them, even with the misery of illness looming over him.

“I love you too, forever and always.” You promised.

“Forever and always.”

#cod mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz x reader #gaz x reader #gaz x female reader #fluff #comfort

[n7punk]

i know this is a long shot because i remember little and i'm pretty sure i've asked before and no one knew what book i was talking about but does anyone know a book that:

came out 10+ years ago

aimed at SOMEWHERE in the 8-15yo range (i realize this is a big range, but i don't remember when i read it, just that it was in the childrens section).

is a werewolf book but there's very little werewolf in it (do you know how hard it is to find a specific, non-popular childrens/pre-teen barely-werewolf book. google does not like it)

the setting is vaguely medieval/generic fantasy although i dont remember there being much fantasy outside of werewolves. maybe some alchemy? i really dont think magic obviously existed for much of the story

the main character is a girl (Also in the 8-15 range i would guess) who is living with a family that isn't her exact birth family (stepmom, grandparents, orphan taken in, i dont remember but it was something like that) and it isn't Great but mostly because they're poor and she's the weak link i think

for some reason she gets taken to a quarry and i remember it being her family's fault. like they didn't protect her from the working draft, did it to pay off their debts, etc. she's forced to work but makes friends with the other workers and i think she ends up seeming unusual in some way (strength to work when grown men cant, healing and recovering, etc. a plague sweeps through and she's fine and it's suspicious) there.

somehow she ends going from there to the palace. i remember her having some tie with the royal family but i think she also might have just befriended their daughter or something.

she was on the run either on the way to the palace or afterwards. she hid in a barn or under a trapdoor or something

here's the distinct part: that book ends with her in the woods, discovering she's a werewolf with the help of other wolf(ves). she has an injury at the base of her neck where the hair has grown back pure white (a sign of werewolfism???)

i feel like it was setting up for a sequel but have no idea if that ever happened. a few Extremely sparse details of this book have been burned in the back of my mind for like fifteen years and i have no clue what the fuck it was. any parts of this could be incorrect/missing because ive remembered this so many times off and on over the years that idk what parts are real or my brain filling in the gaps. i might be combining two books honestly but i dont think i am.

like i feel like her birth parent(s) (maybe just one) were wolves in the woods that she didnt know were werewolves, she started showing signs of being supernatural in the quarry, someone (rasputin-ish) kind of recognized that in her and had her brought to the palace to more carefully study (unbeknownst to her, to a certain degree), she became really good friends with a noble lady there her age, discovered her family might have ties to the royal one, but was still essentially a prisoner. one night she tried to sneak out and the princess(?) caught her but then ended up covering her ass so she could climb the wall and went on the run. she hid in a barn at one point, was discovered by a family and hid from the same kind of patrol that took her to the quarry. somehow she ended up injured, limping into the woods, where she discovered she was a werewolf. and then the book ended. but that sounds so inexplicable i feel like half of it has to be wrong! so i really want to find this book again but i cant figure out what to even google to find this weird fucking story again and i would feel like a lunatic going back to my childhood library 15 years later or whatever and trying to describe this fever dream to them.

#literally what keywords do you pull out of this mess to google because i havent figured it out #books #werewolves #childrens books #pls. someone. i know there's a reddit for this probably but i dont Have one of those #mylife

[mitsuri-chan333]

♡ Mika x reader fluff ♡

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“So, I see you have returned Mika?” The voice of Krul Tepes herself could be heard.

Not long after, I soon could hear footsteps wandering close to the place in which I was standing. I was a human, hiding among the vampires. Well, I guess you could say I was a vampire, considering.

Half of my blood consisted of that of a vamp, causing my eyes to have that slit iris that all vampires have. They had no suspect of the fact that half my blood was that of a human.

The only one who really knew my secret was Mika, which is why he’s one of the only ones here I trust. Not to mention, if any of the vampires found out I was a half breed….

My thoughts were cut off by Mika’s presence composing the door. His blonde hair striking as usual. His blue eyes glimmering, yet not.

“Hey Mika? So how’d the vamp meeting go? Any fun I doubt.” I stroke up, chuckling a bit at my sarcasm.

“Tch, only more talk of how we will extinguish man kind.” He sounded as if he hated the idea. I was none to talk. I understood where he was coming from.

I myself had mixed feelings about such a decision as well. The idea of killing off an entire population, for what? Sure bloods important, but still.

“Let’s go.” Mika signaled to me. I understood, there’s too many ears here.

I said not a word, yet he could tell from the glimmer in my eyes and walked on. I waited not a second to extend my foot forward.

I walked, my foot hitting the concrete bottom of the floor being the only thing echoing through the room. Mika’s presence being the only thing I’m focused on. Lately I’ve been distracted, and I don’t want to be a burden.

Especially not to Mika. I know about his past and everything he’s been through. Mika seems cold but in reality, there are so many emotions swirling around inside of him.

I felt something stop me from walking any further. It took me a second to realize what I’d bumped into. I blinked before I noticed it was Mika’s back.

It didn’t take long for the blonde headed boy to question me.

“Y/n? Have you been getting any rest. I know you don’t run on pure blood alone like full blooded vampires do.” Mika’s voice was way more concerned then I was used to.

It took me a second to adjust. I just looked up. “ I’m fine Mika. You shouldn’t worry about someone like me.” I watched him flinch at the words I laid before him.

His eyes glimmered and shook weirdly. I’ve never seen him look so desperate, no not desperate. So worried? My eyes only stuck to his features. I watched his lips part.

Before his lips could even press play on the script being written in his brain, his arms. They wrapped around my frame and pulled me closely toward him. His left hand stabilizing my head and bringing it closer to his chest. I could feel warm breath on my ear. His heart beat was so quick.

I felt my heart rate pick up and I could feel his warmth spreading. To a point my own face went hot and it seemed as if I could run a fever at any moment. The only thought I had was how close his soft peachy lips were to my ear.

“Don’t say that about yourself.” I felt my eyes widen and my heart felt, tight.

“But…” I felt him squeeze me tighter and closer to him.

“Just rest, rest here.”

“W-won’t it bother you though? Don’t you find me…..”

“Find you, what?”

“B-bothersome?” At my words I felt him seat me down on his lap, his own figure now sitting on the side of a sidewalk under a bridge.

“You’re not any of the sort. You might be half vampire, but you’re nothing like them. And please don’t hesitate to trust me or tell me when you’re tired because I want you to know that I don’t wish to harm you in any way and that I won’t manipulate you like any of those other bastards. I-I…” I felt the hesitation in his voice.

I looked up at him, tears brewing in my eyes. He looked at me softly, before parting his lips to finish his sentence.

“I just want to see you smile.” I watched his lips curve and a beautifully bright smile formed. I could feel it now. Each and every drop welling its way down my burning cheeks. I smiled and hugged him tightly. Gripping his cloak comfortably. His arms wrapping around me rather protectively.

“Me too, Mika.” Those words caused an enormously beautiful smile to appear on his lips before he pulled me to his chest. I heard him start humming. His humming was so gentle, yet soothing. I felt his fingers explore my hazelnut, golden locks.

He smelled like the fresh ocean breeze gliding over the coast on a newly born morning when the sun had finally decided to give you its best smile. The sound of heavy rain gliding into my ears. My eyes growing heavier by the second. I felt so at peace.

“Mika, thank you.” Was the only thing I whispered before I fell victim to sleep herself. I will do everything in my power to help you. Even if it goes against the vampires or the humans, no matter what I’m confused as or seen as…..

You will always be the one that my loyalty refuses to cease with.

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#seraph of the end #mikaela hyakuya #mika hyakuya #mikaela x reader #fluff #x reader #romance #emotions #anime #aesthetic

[spotsupstuff]

"scrambling for her puppet" (in the ask about Moon learning Pebbles is in the works now) YOU GET IT YOU GET IT the puppet may be a personification but it's not the iterator's main body ! (Unless the whole structure is caput like Moon after the collapse)

I love it when the puppet is more akin to a body part the iterator must not forget to use when conversing with smaller organisms !

oh you are going to LOVE Notos and some of Haboob's lore when the big oc post comes out. and also Zephyr (who gets her puppet mangled into almost unregonizable mess of machinery and organic mush during her collapse but still lives n can Somewhat very minimally move the pieces of the gore). and Fish with his torn off head and half a torso in Saint's time..... i LOVE fuckin around with the puppets

BUT YES YES!!!! the puppet is just. another fucking organ, yea. which is so weird to say... i think of the puppets as fetuses from time to time because of the whole "umbilical" arm and "umbilical" cable business

perhaps the puppet bodies could be directly almost completely organic but hollowed out of mind and individuality in a manner to allow the iterator to plug into it and project their consciousness through it. it wouldn't be too outlandish for the Ancients to create a being for the sole purpose of causing it brain death upon its birth and then shoving the body into a box for a hivemind to claim. for fuck's sake afterall, those things that make up Metropolis might be very much alive too but not quite sentient enough to do much about their existence

(side note: i REALLY fuckin love the idea that Ancients are here like "oooOooOo iteratoooOoOOors you need to find an universal solution to mass ascension of the entire world, we cannot let anything suffer the curse of LiiIIiiiIIife boohooo waaaaah wah" while creating Living things that PHYSICALLY don't have the slightest chance to enjoy their life but only basically existing as bricks with karma. if we assume everything living possesses karma. this is also fun to think about when you know a bit about the buddhistic reincarnation system)

the fetus analogy is also kind of fun besides disturbing though, i'll say, what with fetuses not really being able to live outside of womb and also with the way the iterators look canonically... and that they are so small as well (das why i REALLY like the short iterators thing for canon). squishy ass fetuses, p sure if that shit got severed it would just kind of spasm, shrivel up, die and rot

i've had an idea cycling around my brain for so long of Nish giving a spook to one of the Ancients' children about how an Iterator is a hivemind given singular name and goal to be a singular being instead of millions. he says it in a joking way to wig out the kid a little but it's absolutely 100% true for once

i like to think that Sometimes the main body of the iterators (the superstructure) gets minimized into just "the can" by itself because the iterator gets a bit Too into seeing the puppet as their personification/self, to the point that they start to view That only as them despite their superstructure being alright. this results in one of the many kinds of madness an iterator can fall into - basically the cabin fever amped up, with their literal body causing them this mental decline

i've a post in my drafts for like over a month now that's just me playin with the iterator designs a bit more n the main thought is basically

umbilical ARM taken literally

#Spot says stuff #Things Are Fun #ofc no hate to the 'worm off the string' trope in the fandom. peeps do what makes peeps happy #it just so happens that fucked up shit makes Me very happy -rubs hands together like a fly- #glad you picked up on it tho anon!!! fellow 'puppets are organs' enjoyer i shake ur hand 🤝 #yanno id actually argue that even in the case Moon has goin on the puppet isnt her main bod! her structure apparently still somewhat works- #-after Nishs carepackage. it hums n thrums as she turns on again #would also explain why shes so tired about things even tho her puppet seems basically undamaged. its still just a ''Screen'' she projects o

[caspersickfanfics]

I continue to force my sick Cyno agenda on innocent talented people and I cannot be stopped. This isn’t a fic request or anything I just want to share this brain worm

Cyno returning to Tighnari from work seemingly fine, a few scratches etc, but he’s VERY tired, so they do their song and dance of treatment and grounding and go to have dinner. And Cyno seems normal, until dinner is served and for whatever reason the normally iron stomach Cyno CANNOT handle whatever nari served. And it’s bad like he goes from fine to scrambling to the bathroom and Tighnari is just *surprised pikachu*

now here’s the thing- something nari served reminded Cyno of something he witnessed or had to deal with on his last mission. Maybe Cyno didn’t think whatever he saw or did, or ate, (who knows!! It’s a mystery ) affected him that much until it reappeared in this new context? Or maybe his body just has a knee jerk reaction to a perceived threat? Frankly I have no idea what it would be that caused this but the possibilities are fun. And! I like the idea of Cyno being equally shocked by his sudden nausea and it just totally ruining his night as his stomach just won’t stop churching

he would make tighnari SWEAR to never mention this to anyone ever, the General Mahamatra doesn’t get squeamish (and really he usually doesn’t) but Tighnari rolls his eyes and assures him that exhaustion plus *insert whatever the hell happened* would make anyone feel off something something comfort the end

Oh this is so freaking perfect for them!!!!! Absolutely brilliant.

I can think of a few things that could lead to this. One would be having a normal meal and then witnessing or experiencing something traumatic afterwards. Another would be a more direct tie -- eating something that was poisoned. And the middle option would be, Cyno got captured (and tortured or made to witness Horrors, etc.) and was forced to eat the same thing every day :(( Whatever it was, Cyno wasn't physically injured too bad, and he's had time to recover from that, so he figures "all's well that ends well" and doesn't linger on it much at all (avoidance is a symptom of trauma). Maybe there was someone else who went through it with him and they're not feeling great about it, so Cyno makes sure to get them situated and in a place to heal mentally, and then as he's leaving they're like "are you sure you're okay?" and he's like "yeah of course, I'm the General Mahamatra, so I'm always okay" and from that point on it's just no longer something that crosses his mind.

Tighnari can immediately see how tired he is, but is relieved to find no injuries. Cyno doesn't talk much, but that's typical, even more so when he's tired, and he just seems happy to see Nari.

I like the idea of Cyno sitting down to eat and he feels a bit nauseous from the smell of the food, but figures it's just the exhaustion. It's probably not an unfamiliar feeling for him after such a tiring job. He's not even slightly worried about it until the food is actually in his mouth and by that point his stomach is lurching. He's uncharacteristically clumsy as he scrambles out of the room.

It just crossed my mind that his job might mandate a certain level of confidentiality at times. So now I'm also playing with this idea of Tighnari, like, super worried because that was weird, and Cyno doesn't have a fever, but even after he empties his stomach, he's washed out, sweaty, on-edge. But Cyno's just sitting there in the corner of the bathroom, trembling like a leaf, mumbling apologizes for not being able to eat the food and saying stuff like "I can't– I just can't eat that" and shuddering when he thinks too hard about it. Tighnari's smart so pretty quickly he's like "did something happen at work?" And Cyno shrugs but obviously it's a yes. Nari's kind of frustrated, not at Cyno, but at the fact that he can't share his burdens. Cyno squeezes his eyes shut, but that doesn't do anything to stop the memories, and maybe he starts dry heaving. Tighnari just rubs his back quietly and tries not to imagine what Cyno must have experienced to have his body rebel so intensely. They spend the rest of the night trying to figure out how to make Cyno feel safe - maybe they trade huts with Collei or borrow an empty one for the night because the smell is triggering. Cyno can't stomach any food at this point, but tea helps. His body is so tired that he drifts off, but he keeps waking up from nightmares. Each time, he snuggles closer to Nari, who pretends to stay sleeping because he knows Cyno would feel baad for waking him. The third or fourth time Cyno wakes up, though, he's sick again, and Tighnari figures enough is enough. They spend the early morning hours playing cards. Tighnari is hardly paying attention to the game at all, instead choosing to focus on the conversation, sifting through their shared memories and deliberately bringing up the happiest, most comforting ones he can find, so that when Cyno falls asleep at the table, it's actually peaceful this time. Tighnari doesn't move him because he's sure it will wake him. He just keeps watch over him, playing with his hair, and feels devastatingly sad for whatever it was Cyno had to endure.

...I rambled as usual. I love this idea so much. I know you said it's not a request but I'm ngl I am kinda tempted to write this sdkjsfdjs (also!! I wholly support your sick Cyno agenda, please continue! XD)

#“something something comfort at the end” is literally how i feel every time i end a fic /knowing/ i should've added more fluff LMAO #relevantlucidity #cas chats #headcanons #tighnari hc #sick cyno hc #genshin hc #thank you for this!! what a fun scenario :D #sick cyno #<333 #genshin impact hc #to write #maybe sjksdksfjkl #tighnari genshin impact #genshin ask #genshin impact #cyno genshin impact #oh i love these two so muchhhhh #i didn't even touch on Cyno making Tighnari promise to keep this a secret but yes absolutely 100% #he would be so embarrassed ;;-;;

[recurring-polynya]

Idk if you’ve answered this question (sorry if you have) before, but how do you think Renji & Rukia first met ? What do you think their life was like originally before Soul Society ?

Pardon me if I'm reading this wrong, but...Rukia and Renji's first meeting is enshrined pretty thoroughly in canon? She rescued him from a water heist that was about to turn disastrous.

This is from Chapter 98/Episode 32: A Star and a Stray Dog, which is the first place you should be looking if you're interested in pre-canon Renruki lore.

As to the second part of your question...you mean before they died? What sort of lives did they have in the World of the Living?

I'm gonna pontificate, so I'll throw that under a cut

First off, I am fascinated with the fact that Kubo gives us nothing about what anyone's living life was like. On one hand, I would like to know everyone's pre-history, but on the other, I'm glad he didn't, like as a literary choice. The slate is supposed to be wiped clean. It doesn't matter. It's maddening, but also correct.

It's also one of those places that is just ✨fanfic free real estate✨ in terms of I think everyone should make up their own version for their blorbos, so of course I have them for Renji and Rukia. I have absolutely nothing to support these, they are just what I felt in my heart.

I have actually talked about Renji's beforedeath quite a bit, here and there in various fanfics, usual under the conceit that, particularly in their Inuzuri days, he would sometimes blurt out some half-remembered thing and then promptly forget it again. Here an excerpt from Chapter 3 of go places:

It’s an Alive Memory, Rukia is nearly certain. Most souls get them. All the boys did, from time to time. To Renji, it’s just brain dust. Whatever it is in Soul Society that makes people forget their lives also makes this memory detritus slippery to hold onto. Renji won’t think of this later, or attach any importance to this conversation. The funny thing is, after ten years of watching him stumble through these moments, Rukia probably has a better idea of what Renji’s life was like than he does. He lived on a farm of some sort. A small one, or at least his family grew a lot of their own food. He died of a fever. Nearly all of his Alive Memories involve his mother. Rukia is almost positive that Renji’s mother is the one who taught him to write. The sewing scissors were likely hers. In Rukia’s imagination, Renji’s mother is very tall and beautiful and kind. Rukia doesn’t need to use her imagination to know that Renji loved his mother very much.

Just to offer a little more detail--doing the math out, where Bleach starts in the early 00s, Rukia and Renji have been separated for 40 years and knew each other for 10 years before that, it would make a lot of sense for both of them to have died in WWII. However, I like to think that time is very wobbly, especially in the outer Rukon, so I like to make their deaths a little earlier-- specifically, I think that Renji died in the 1918 flu pandemic, which may have contributed to getting a plague spirit for a zanpakutou. That being said, my general vibe for his childhood is based on Kanta, the neighbor kid from My Neighbor Totoro, which takes place in the 50s. In any case, he had a pretty small and unremarkable life in rural Japan, aside from the fact that he was loved very much, which will never be unremarkable, no matter how common it may be.

I have written less about Rukia's beforedeath, mostly because she was too young when she died to have any phantom memories. [Note: I know there are some theories out there, based on some arcane clues that Kubo has dropped that Rukia may not actually be a normal soul and may be related to Hell. That's...fine. While I'm never going to say no to a storyline that centers Rukia, I really do hope that it comes to naught. Ichigo has enough Crazy Origin going on and I like the Rukia's backstory the way it is, so I'm just going to ignore all of that for the sake of this post]. Ahem! So, infant death is not anything surprising, or even really interesting, but what makes Rukia's kind of compelling is the fact that her much-older sister died at the same time. To me, this indicates either a natural disaster or a death-by-violence.

As I said above, there are infinity ways you can go with this, but to me, there were two important things I wanted to capture 1) given Renji's descriptions of Rukia having an inherent grace and nobility, and the idea that something about Hisana caught Byakuya's eye, I thought that maybe they should have been noble, and 2) I wanted them to live by the sea. I do not actually remember how I landed on this, but in the 1850s, a bunch of sea fortresses were constructed to protect Japan by attack from sea (see here for more detail). This was the tail end of the Edo period and I liked the idea that maybe Rukia came from an old samurai family, and her father was sent to oversee one of these coastal forts. Did they die in a bombardment? A bad storm? The Kanto earthquake? I never got that far. I'm not even sure if this is a realistic scenario, if they had civilians living there, etc, this was just a half-thought-out thing I came up with for a bonus chapter of a fanfic that someone requested once. The one other detail from that that I came up with and stand by is that I think there were more siblings in their family between Hisana and Rukia. I also like that this idea that makes Rukia somewhat older than Renji, even though the math is impossible and the points are made up anyway.

#rukia kuchiki #renji abarai #beforedeath is a great companion word to afterlife which i just made up for this post but i hope it catches on

[thatlonelycactus]

I’m going to sound literally insane but I have a theory about what the “ineffable plan” might be. Is it right? Probably not but my fevered brain feels like it has some merit to it.

Anyway, in the book Crowley suggests that “Maybe it's all part of a great big ineffable plan. All of it. You, me, him, everything. Some great big test to see if what you've built all works properly, eh? You start thinking: it can’t be a great cosmic game of chess, it has to be just very complicated Solitaire.” and it is a quote that I’m quite sad didn’t make it into the show (I’m pretty sure). But back onto todays nonsensical rant: my proposal is- what if the Almightys plan is to try to make people/celestial/occult beings realize they need to work together and move away from the binary of being right or wrong. It links two of the major (imo) themes of the story in that a) it’s about connection and love and that and b) there’s no such thing as “good” or “bad” on a moral scale, there’s only shades of grey. What if the Almighty let the fall happen (as Crowley says earlier in the exchange mentioned earlier: “why did it happen, eh? I mean, it didn’t have to, did it?… Anyone who could build a universe in six days isn’t going to let a little thing like that happen. Unless they want it to, of course.”) to not only let the angels experience free will but to also let them learn, to work together, to love, to grow. What if they laced humans on earth with their range of morals beliefs, etc and showed how they, even when they are self declared enemies, can still work together? The most prominent point for the second idea is the bonds between Newt and Anathema, Shadwell and Madame Tracey, Beez and Gabriel, and obviously, Aziraphale and Crowley. I’ll talk about the witch/witch-hunter pairs first because I think the big thing here is that it all starts with humanity. Newt was essentially pulled into being a witch-hunter through circumstance, he never had any hatred for Anathema or any witch for that matter, it all just kinda happened (remind you of anyone sauntering vaguely downward???) but they’re both quick to accept the other for who they are. Shadwell took a little bit more time to realize that Madame Tracey was neither a witch nor evil. He just had to realize that they were both human and that she was, well, that she was kind. After realizing this, Shadwell began to change (def for the better), he left an order he had been with since the 60s because he realsied it was outdated and pretty much pointless in the scheme of everything, of humanity. I bring these two pairs because they remind me slightly of Aziraphale and Crowley, and Beez and Gabriel respectively. I won’t go into too much more detail but these relationships show that the hatred between heaven and hell is arbitrary, angels and demons aren’t hereditary enemies, they don’t even have to be enemies, they just decided that’s what they needed to be. These relationships prove that there’s more than just good and evil because I don’t think that any of us would refer to either Crowley or Beelzebub as “evil” nor Aziraphale or Gabriel as purely “good”. That’s what the Almighty is trying to get everyone to understand that there is no good, there is no evil, there’s just US and that’s the only side worth fighting for.

I have so many reasons why this can’t be the ineffable plan but yeah. Anyway that leaves me with one question: why did they do any of it? Whats the point of starting a 6000 year long conflict to show that the way you’d started it all out was best even though you were the one who ruined it? Whats the point of creating an entire universe and then planning to destroy it to prove this point?

Unless the universe was the apple in Eden.

Thats what makes it ineffable

#Am I making sense??? #Like I’d lengthen that last point #But I can’t be bothered #plus I doubt anyone would bother #But yeah #lmk if someone else has already suggested this #Good Omens #go s2 #go s1 #go s3 #ineffable husbands #ineffable beaurocracy #anathema device #newt pulsifer #sergeant shadwell #madame tracy #the Almighty #the ineffable plan

[wytchsbrew]

To keep everyone updated about why I've been gone.

One month ago today, I found a sweet little 4 week old kitten alone in my backyard. He was sick, starving, had a wound on his neck, and was covered in fleas.

When we rescued this tiny, sweet little dirty kitten (who we named Balkie), we knew he was sick, but we had no idea just HOW sick.

By week two of having him, we rushed him as an emergency patient to the vet because he was limp and unresponsive. He had a fever of 106 and he was having seizures. The vet said she'd speak with an internal specialist. Then, a few minutes later, we were told by this vet he had a bacterial infection, he was put on antibiotics, and sent home. He got a little better, but then, he tanked again. He still had a fever when he returned to his follow up appointment.

We said the antibiotics were not working, they just weren't the right kind for whatever he had, he was still hot as ever and sick and couldn't do anything. He needed a different medication. The same vet said no.

We had him back to the vet a week later, and he was seen by a different vet. She tried to help by giving him new antibiotics and medications, but she wasn't sure what it was, either, but she did try.

He only got worse on that medication. Scared of everything, anxious, couldn't remember things, couldn't remember faces, couldn't remember the cats he'd been living with. We were at a loss, we had no idea what to do.

Then, this past Saturday came.

Balkie was suddenly completely paralyzed. He could no longer move. He could no longer swallow on his own. He couldn't hold his head upright on his own anymore. He had a fever for the third time, and he was dying. Legitimately dying.

Mom took him to the vet that morning at 11 AM, fully believing they were going to put him down.

But, we got a new vet on Saturday. She went through his records from the previous visits, and realized, an internal specialist had written in his file that they believed he had Toxoplasmosis. And the first vet, WHO HAD SPOKEN TO THE SPECIALIST, simply would not tell us that and refused to treat him for that.

So this sweet little baby had a parasite from raccoons and rats that was attacking his brain and paralyzing him, and had been suffering with it for a month.

The new vet put him on Clindamycin, the only thing that treats Toxoplasmosis. Gave him a fever reducer and a steroid.

By the next morning, he could swallow on his own again and wanted to try walking. In 48 hours, he was no longer paralyzed, and could stand up in the litter box on his own without our help.

This morning, he is running around, he hasn't fallen over, he tried climbing the cat tree all by himself. He's happy, he's playing, he's the kitten I thought we lost when his fever came back the second time.

I can't believe how much he's improved. He's recognizing our faces, he's happy to be here, he wants to be held and is no longer terrified of everything coming and going. He's just my little man again.

I have spent $1,000 saving this sweet baby boy, and he will be special needs for the rest of his life because the Toxo damaged his brain. His head wobbles when he gets excited, he gets weak after a while of running, and his balance is not the best anymore, so he needs around the clock care for right now.

I had other people asking for my Ko-Fi account and to make a wishlist for things he might want/need while he heals and recovers, so I am including the links below. <3

#cats #kittens #rescue cats #rescue #rescue kittens #i'm so tired #i haven't slept in a month

[princess-of-the-corner]

Because, Once Again, My Friend Promised Me Chocolate

So, in case anyone actually paid attention, my friend got me to submit our OC (the Raven Miraculous, Kwami of Fate/Destiny, sees the future) and the organization she came up with that went along with it. Well, apparently she’s done some work since then, and now wants me to talk about this AGAIN.

Why she doesn’t do this herself, I don’t know. Probably to watch me suffer.

SO

In case anyone missed it, my friend came up with an organization that acronyms as NOSPOILERS; the New Order Society Preventing Omni-Dimensional Information Leaks, Ensuring Realm Stability (she may have changed a few words since I last checked but whatever). The point of the organization is that they bill themselves as a secret society that observes the world, protecting it from “outside influence” so that the world’s “fate” isn’t “corrupted” by the choices of other dimensions/timelines etc, but otherwise they don’t interfere. However, in the typical fashion of secret societies meant to control the world from the shadows, these days they are less “protect the world” and more “use our knowledge to gain wealth, power, and privilege”.

Now, while they mostly do this through the method of comic book groups like HYDRA or the Illuminati, NOSPOILERS also has access to a powerful magical object that allows the holder to see the future (in my friend’s Headcannon, the Raven Miraculous). The big thing is, to use this item, the holder has to already possess some kind of Clairvoyant ability or potential. It doesn’t have to be strong or obvious, but they need something, otherwise they can’t use the item effectively. Like, they’ll still be able to use it, but it Won’t really be worth it - they won’t have proper control, what they see will be fragmented and disjointed, and the whole experience will take a massive toll. The idea is, people who try to use the item without some kind of Clairvoyant ability (born or trained) will get overwhelmed by the images of the future. Their brains aren’t built for it, and the strain can cause all sorts of problems, such as headaches, fainting, dizzy spells, fevers, and even delusions. Prolonged use when you aren’t built for it can and will eventually cause the user to either have their brain “shut down” in self-defence, leaving them in a coma, or they get swept up in the visions of the future, and lose all hold on reality. You can train for that sort of thing, but even then, all you’re doing is prolonging how long you can last using the item, and your control will be weak at best. In contrast, those that are born with some kind of Clairvoyant ability or potential, even if they never use or awaken it, are basically built to handle that kind of strain, and can use the item easily and quickly master it.

So, it’s in NOSPOILERS best interests to search for and find as many people as they can with some kind of Clairvoyant ability. As a result, they have loads of people who can see the future, even without the item, which just cements their power even more. Still, only the best Seers of each generation are granted the position of Oracle, the one who will use the item to assist the organization.

Then, you get one guy who looks at what the group is doing, and decides “Well, this is f*cked up.”, steals the item and flees the organization. Now, whether the guy lives or gets caught and killed is up in the air, but he manages to mail the item to a distant relative (for ML, they live in Paris) and then we get “teen suddenly has futuresight and superpowers!”.

Now, before anyone says anything about this kid immediately drawing a target on their back, apparently if you look into the future, this item is invisible. Like, you cannot use Clairvoyance or Scrying, or Divination, or any magical method to find this thing. You want to find it, you have to go the old fashioned way.

So, one thing my friend brought up, is that strictly speaking, NOSPOILERS doesn’t actually need the Futuresight MacGuffin. Like, they have so many people who can see the future, plus more resources and money than God, that the MacGuffin is a bit superfluous. But, when you have power …

Anyway, some random bits that I was told to mention:

- NOSPOILERS was not the groups original name, they’ve rebranded

- NOSPOILERS is run by a council, usually of twelve to fifteen members

- since their whole thing is information, they have a massive Archive that has basically all the information in the world

- they have an entire section dedicated to sports, and who’s going to win which trophy in which league, going the next hundred years. It is updated religiously.

- there’s another section dedicated to media and popular fiction. This is the hardest section to recruit for, because you have to be okay with the endings and plot twists of everything being spoiled.

- NOSPOILERS owns a stupid amount of casinos and the like, but most of its members never personally participate. They look down on gambling and lotteries as “too easy” and “beneath them”

Now, ML specific

- NOSPOILERS absolutely know who Hawk Moth and Team Miraculous are. The only reason they haven’t stuck their noses in is because they see the Wish as the “easy way out” (also an Oracle once had a vision of NOSPOILERS using the Wish and the world blowing up, but that has nothing to do with it)

- Actually, the other reason they haven’t stuck their noses in is Gabriel Agreste. They have the knowledge he’d need to save Emilie, but they are fully aware that even trying to blackmail or bribe him would end very poorly, so are keeping out of it (at least until something important turns up to force their hand … .)

- NOSPOILERS has an … understanding with the Order of Guardians. Whether this understanding will survive the Order’s “resurrection” remains to be seen

- of the various Miraculous, besides the Raven, NOSPOILERS would very much like the Snake and the Rabbit. The Snake they’ve never gotten, but there have been a few occasions they’ve snagged the Rabbit. They can never keep it for more than a minute. Usually, they’ll be holding it, when a portal opens, they get beaned with an umbrella, and the watch gets yoinked. This has happened so many times.

Again, we are never going to do anything with this, so if anyone wants to use it, go ahead!

-

oh! fascinating!

#submission