#and bc feelings are starting to be a thing

[inkskinned]

i'm still trying to piece together the truth of it. when you left, you said: feel free to spin this narrative however you want. i have no idea if you were being cruel or if you just genuinely don't remember what you've done to me.

it's hard because i'd done so much of the work for you. i had seen the parts that flaked off, the rust underneath. i started separating you into two people - the one i loved, and the one who hurt me. i had this fantasy version of you - my partner - and then i had this stranger, a third person who would show up randomly to shatter me. i am deliriously glad i'm no longer with "the stranger". i miss the gentle (unreal?) "other" you terribly.

at first, i was so strict about my boundaries. i remember telling you to get the fuck out of my house if you were going to talk to me like that. by the end: i would justify your behavior for you, accepting even your mistreatment as "my fault" in the grand scheme. i look back on the person i was before you - smart, independent, confident - and i feel a strange sense of detachment. i don't even recognize me.

even in one of our last conversations, you said: if you want a partner that always talks warmly to you, find someone else. there was a time that a comment like that would have made me leave. and instead, somehow, i just placidly accepted that kind of thing. you were literally telling me that i wasn't allowed to have a reaction to your cruelty - and i just took it, because you'd so fully turned things around on me.

when people are faced with irrationality, a rational brain tries to make sense of it. this is the trap. they're lovely in the morning, gentle and blue-eyed and sweet. like nothing even happened, they breeze around the house and kiss you on the mouth. but at night; who is that? they snap almost randomly; flying into an impotent rage about just-about-anything. it just doesn't make sense. so the problem must be me, and my brain, and how i think.

the traumatized brain just wants peace. so maybe i'm misremembering. maybe you were just having a bad day. maybe it's actually me.

you eventually would fully turn on me and start implying that i am the bad actor in our relationship. that's what happens, right? that's literally in the playbook. you went to therapy for all of a month, told her a half-truth, co-opted therapyspeak. you figured out how to reframe your actions as "seeking peace." any time i stood my ground, i was "gaslighting." when i asked you to be more gentle, you said i was "tone policing." you said, randomly, i had emotionally manipulated you - i still have no idea what that's even specifically referring to. maybe my consistent requests for calmness and empathy?

and while i literally know better, and i'm sitting here, trained by you, thinking: wait, fuck. was i actually the person you made me out to be?

and the thing that scares me is that i literally do not know if you ever actually saw what you were doing to me. when you'd tell me how you remember arguments, you'd always summarize them in a way where you come off as gentle and easy: "i was trying to set an important boundary." what had actually happened was 15 minutes of you shouting at me i know you did something shady, just admit it already. eventually you'd say my reaction to your shouting (when i finally reacted, which usually happened around hour three) was inevitably "disappointing" and "another way i'm silencing your feelings."

how many times did i ask you - beg you - to just take accountability? looking back, i don't think i ever heard you say: you're right. the way i talked to you was wrong of me.

i am trying to tie together the two people into a full version of you in my head. yes, you made my coffee and made me laugh and spent hours on the phone with me. and yes - you would scream at me until i had to run away and hide behind something.

i wish i did have a narrative i could pull out and shape to my whim. i wish i did have some semblance of reality. instead i just stand here, strange and vibrating, wondering: what the fuck just happened?

[houseofhyde]

Omg maybe a soft moment w manchild Bucky and reader where they are in bed slow touches talking about their feelings and how buckys been after her for so long and how she felt it too and omg.

Maybe not tho bc I might literally die of love resding it

signs in the silence. a manchild drabble.

pairing. bucky barnes x fem!reader. synopsis. fighting off sleep to scrape a little more time together, you interrogate bucky and find out all the things sam told him about you. warnings. mentions of smut/prior sexual activity, bickering, unlabeled relationship, reader being a sore loser (uno is hell on earth when you're losing), fluff, a tiny bit of angst. reader inclusivity. like a single mention of bucky brushing away an invisible strand of hair. wordcount. 2.7k (okay so maybe idk how to only write a drabble, sue me!) hyde's input. bestie, i saw your ask enter my inbox this evening and immediately started writing it, i swear i was possessed into finishing this in one sitting. ik it's not exactly what you asked for but i hope you enjoy reading it! (unedited, we die like real men)

Curtains dance in the wind like billowing ballgowns, lifting and dipping in the arms of the night. Past the window pane, rain reigns the streets below, staining everything beneath the stormy sky. Despite the weather and the ungodly hour, the city is still wide awake and, alongside it, so are you.

“You’re cheating!”

“How am I cheating?” There’s something unfair about how jaw-dropping Bucky still looks like this: cross-legged on the bed, wearing nothing but boxers and tired eyes, and clutching a two-card hand of colourful cards. If he hadn’t just condemned you to pick up twelve, you would reach over and steal a kiss. “I don’t even know the rules to this stupid game.”

“If it’s so stupid, why do you keep beating me?” You’re begrudgingly picking up your dues and struggling to hold the stack of cards in one hand.

As he tries to help you pick up a card that slips off the edge, you swat metal fingers away.

“Begginers luck,” the soldier shrugs, placing down his second last card. “Uno.”

Yellow Seven. Fuck.

“I actually hate you,” you groan, collapsing back against feather pillows.

“You’re holding half the deck, doll,” the ill-will you feel towards him in this moment aside, you can’t help the way your heart gives a little leap at that silly name of endearment. If feelings make fools, you’re leading the pack. “There’s no way you don’t have a playable card.”

Fingertips — flesh, warm and tender with their touch — slide up the back of your calf, hooking under your knee before attempting to tug you closer, down the bed, to where he sits by the edge. Like a child throwing a tantrum, you kick your legs, shaking off his touch.

“I don’t wanna play with you any more,” between the yawn you’re fighting off and the pout that’s taken capture of your lips, you truly are a pitiful sight. The knowledge of this doesn’t stop you from throwing down your cards and making a run for it off the mattress.

Unfortunately, your roommate has the reflex skills of a ninja and, no sooner than your feet touch the ground, his arms grab you from behind and drag you into his lap.

“God you’re such a sore loser,” he mouths against the skin of your neck, trailing his lips over the kisses he already tattooed into your skin hours ago, when the sun was barely setting and he had you pressed against the walls of the shower.

“I am not!” Two fingers pinch at his arm. You quietly delight in the way it only makes him squeeze them tighter around you, biceps straining deliciously on either side of you.

“Are too!” His teeth clamp down on your earlobe, and you have to physically hold yourself back from grinding back into his lap, the burning outline of his semi-hard cock straining against navy fabric heavy on your mind. “Sam even warned me about it.”

Glancing at him from over your shoulder, you find his eyes already on you. It’s something you’re coming to learn about him, quietly and unaddressed, just how attentive of a man he is. “You seriously shouldn’t trust a word that man says. He’s an agent of chaos!”

“Hey, that’s Captain America you’re talking about,” this time, he’s pinching you and, when you squirm, he takes the opportunity to scoop an arm beneath your knees and lifts you both off the bed. “And, according to him, you once bit his sister during a game of Twister.”

“One time,” You hold up a single finger and Bucky leans his head forward to bite it. “And it was only after she nearly choked me!”

After guiding both your hands to grab on behind his neck, your soldier takes away the hand supporting your back and uses it to dust off the sheets. Cards go flying and float onto the ground, and not once does the neurotic voice, that lives in your mind and berates any disorganisation, tell you to care about the mess.

In what world could a mess on the floor be more important than the way Bucky slides you both back down atop the mattress, card-free sheets pooling over your skin as the soldier pulls you into him.

He closes his eyes for all of four seconds before you’re whispering across the pillows.

“What else did Sam warn you about me?”

Blue irises reappear, one by one, and you can see how exhaustion has stitched itself across his face. You feel a twinge of guilt, keeping him awake on a night like this, but you’re selfish and you want every extra second with him you can get.

“He said you were the most intelligent yet incapable person he’s ever met,” his legs bump against yours beneath the sheets as he shuffles a little closer. You meet him halfway, intertwining your limbs in a tangle that’s slowly growing familiar. “Nearly didn’t believe him… Then I saw you for the first time.”

“You two are real mean, you know that?” There is not an ounce of grit behind your voice, just pure unadulterated adoration that a more awake version of yourself would be doubled over, gagging at the sight of it. Stand up, girl! You can almost hear her — you — say. He’s literally just a man! “What was so incapable about me opening the door of my home to the needy, huh?”

The soldier takes capture of the hand you poke against his chest, leading it up the path to meet the soft press of his lips. This is another thing you’re learning, how constant he craves contact, a hand always at your back, or a shoulder bumping against your own, or a head buried in your neck, he’s a fiend for the feel of flesh.

“Who said that’s the first time I saw you?” He challenges.

“Oh.”

“It was months before that. Sam and I, we were hiding out at a black-market art gallery in Madripoor because of… well, that’s not important,” as if he feels the tension bubbling beneath your skin, he dances over the dangerous part of his life, the parts you don’t get to see, the parts that turn him into a single phone call for days on end. “You called Sam, one of those face-clock calls-”

“It’s facetime, grandpa,” you tease him with a smile, reward him with a press of your mouth down into his right shoulder.

“Whatever. Point is, there was a mirror behind him and that’s where I saw you,” vibranium cups its palm around your face and you turn into its touch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he soothes your cheek. “You were crying, begging for help after smashing your shower door whilst trying to kill a spider.”

“I stand-by the fact that could have happened to anyone.”

“Darling, no it couldn’t,” his laughter shakes his chest and you. It makes you want to dive deeper into his touch, feel his next laugh erupt in your own chest. “No one else would be silly enough to throw a baseball bat at a spider the size of raindrops.”

“It was jumping! And I didn’t have any spray!” You turn away from his touch, only to nestle your face in the crevices of his collarbone. Despite the chill in the air, Bucky’s a furnace against you, sheltering you from the cold. “Tell me something else Sam said.”

“Hmm,” he pauses to think, his flesh arm curling around your back and rolling you into him. He smells like Bucky but, also, you, traces of your citrus bodywash staining him hours after you lathered him in it beneath the flowing waters of the shower. Something curls in your loins, possessive and satisfied with the claim you’ve made on his skin. “That you have an insatiable sweet tooth. Backed it up with a story where he had to pry you out a bakery after failing to get some promotion at work.”

“I still can’t believe they gave it to fucking Frank,” you huff, the bitterness still present on your tongue after all these years. “They ended up firing him within a year after realising that, beneath all that manly testosterone, he was incompetent.”

“Just your type, then?” The bastard muses, effortlessly blocking the hand that’s reaching for his nipple and pressing it flat against his chest instead. You feel his heart, beating a little stronger with each pulse, there's a magnet in your palm commanding it to break free from its ribcage and fly right into your hand. “Sam said you always wanted to learn to bake, but were too lazy.”

“Too busy,” you roll your eyes, though deep down there’s a truth in Sam’s claims. “Luckily, you’re a whizz in the kitchen. And I’m not just talking about when you bend me over the counter and threaten to use the spatula to spank-”

“Why do you think I wanted to learn to bake?”

Reminiscing on your salacious adventures together quickly stops, the moment you take a second to actually think about what he’s saying, what he’s not saying. You’re both good at this game, tip-toeing around a subject you both keep bringing to light yet never fully revealing. There’s excitement in the unsaid, in the quiet touches and unmentioned actions that hint at something you’re both too stubborn to address.

Tonight will not be the night either of you give in and fold.

“Tell me something else,” oh god, there’s a yawn caught in your throat. With difficulty, you swallow it down before the soldier can point it out.

“He never warned me you were so demanding,” you whine in protest into his skin and feel the dance of his hand running up and down your back, an apology that seeps through skin and into your spine. “But he did mention you have awful taste in men.”

The hand on your back slips lower, pressing dimples into the skin at the base of your spine as you push yourself off his chest and come face to face with him. The moonlight is forgiving tonight, granting you the pretty view of his illuminated features. The fondness in his eyes, the curve of his lips, the wrinkles beginning to threaten stains upon his skin, the scars you’ve yet to ask about.

For every imperfection and every inch of adoration, he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

Something tugs at your heart.

“The worst taste,” you murmur, bringing your lips down to meet Bucky’s in a kiss that has him exhaling with relief and gripping at your skin tighter.

“Yeah?” He mumbles, stealing the air you exhale. “Tell me, what kind of man merits your attention?”

“The kind who works out every muscle but his brain,” you drag your lips over his jaw, relishing in the scrape of his stubble.

“Hey, I read!” Finally, it’s his turn to feel the sting of offense.

“Typical man, making everything about himself,” you settle back down against his chest, ear pressing close enough to where you can hear the thunder of his heart. “This is about my dream man, Buck, not you.”

“Didn’t you call me your dream man last time I ate your-”

“Anyway, I like the kind of man who listens to both my problems and my complaints, and then does whatever he can to fix things without pressuring me.” Flashback to last week, when you complained about the strap of your bag snapping half-way home only to awaken the next morning to it all stitched perfectly back together.

“You like the considerate kind then,” he whispers, and you swear you hear a twinge of nervousness on his tongue.

“And the kind who makes me feel beautiful with just a single glance at me,” exhibit A stares down at you right now, a shine in his eyes that makes you want to swoon.

“That must be any man,” he brushes a nonexistent hair off your forehead, “I mean, look at you.”

“I also like the kind of man that chases me, even when I’m too focused on what’s ahead to glance back and notice him,” there’s a strange squeeze in your throat as you swallow down a breath, thinking back on all the hints of longing he may have dropped that you’ll never know about.

“That man would still chase you, even if you never looked back,” the way he’s speaking to you and touching you, like you’re a rose petal threatening to fall off its stem, is not helping the lump in your throat. “In case you stumbled and needed someone to break your fall.”

That does you in, sends the first tear falling off your eyelash and landing on his naked chest, while you muster a quiet, “I like the kind of man who calls.”

His hands don’t freeze, and no part of him jumps with shock. Instead, his chest deflates with resignation.

“You know about the mission,” it’s not a question.

It doesn’t need to be, he already knows the answer.

“How?” This, however, is a question he needs to ask.

You shrug into him, refusing to give in to his search for your face as you focus on hiding it in the warmth of his skin, hidden from the look on his face you’re too afraid to confront. “Something just felt… different when I woke up.”

“Like what?” It’s not an accusatory thing, just a simple search for answers from a man who’s trying his best to keep you from falling apart against him.

“Well, you woke me up with your head between my legs-”

“What’s different about that? I did the same on Tuesday, too.

“And then brought me breakfast in bed.”

“You feed me, I feed you, that’s how a-” he doesn’t quite say the R word, but you feel it, in the way he seers a kiss onto the crown of your head, “Is supposed to work.”

“Then there was the three course meal waiting for me when I came home from work,” you still remember the way your heart was stuck between soaring at the sight of him setting the table as you walked into the apartment, and sinking with realisation that your suspicions were definitely true. “If all that wasn’t enough, I could tell from your touch.”

“My touch?”

“It was like… you were trying to memorise me. Not just when we were in the shower, but each time you took my hand across the table and brushed over my shoulder before clearing our plates,” you feel him sinking his fingers over your flesh, a soft squeeze at your hip. “Even now, it’s like you’re trying to hold onto me because you know you have to let go.”

“I just…” He sighs with defeat, not helping his case when he lays another kiss against your head. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“That’s okay,” you lie, for both of your sakes. “It’s not like you’ve not left to go help Sam before.”

“This isn’t before,” you both hate and adore him for the firmness he puts into the statement. “Before was different, we weren’t us.”

As much as this aches, ripping your chest apart to carve out your heart with the bitter truth of Bucky’s life as a hero catching up to whatever safe haven you two have locked yourselves away in, you’ll happily take the pain, the lump in your throat, all of it. There’s no price too high to pay to have this moment, laying in Bucky’s arms and pretending there’s no one in the city but you two, fighting off sleep for a moment more of each other’s presence and leaving fingerprint evidence of one another on your skins.

“You’ll be gone by the time I wake up,” you could get mad at him for not telling you, for the chance he almost took at leaving you another measly note on the fridge. But all you feel is the mutual ache of wanting to put off the inevitable, just a little longer. “Won’t you?”

You feel him nod, feel him squeeze his arms around you tighter, feel your heartbeats start to sync as sleep slowly guides you away from his loving gaze.

“I promise I won’t miss a single call, doll.”

[onelonelyghost0]

Reading this post and realizing the shit I thought was common sense from being a kid outside is not, in fact, common sense, I was just doing that thing humans do where we do weird things to survive and it works. Huh. ALSO IF YOY DONT WANT MOSQIITOS, EAT GARLIC. PUT ON TEA TREE OR LAVENDER OILS OR SMELLS DERIVED FROM THE PLANT. PLANT LAVENDER. EAT A BUNCH OF SPICY SHIT. And a little lace or mesh curtain will keep out most of the bugs and if you don’t care about looks you can wash and keep that shit for decades, from a window A/C user until we moved bc our A/C would break in a two story house (hell yeah vet money but oh no I live without that now anyways) and the heat rises so the top floor where I slept was worse.

(Source: tile is cold but clothes will take cold first, cold water starts to hurt if ur too hot, gatoraid isn’t bad for you it makes you feel great in the summer, pickle juice cravings, going outside bc “the breeze feels nice”, fucking bathing myself in lavender for some reason which was actually hormone issues and mosquito bites, and trying to make clothes as cold as possible when I had to wear them, as well as when being alone wearing less bc GODDAMN I had a 107F summer and was told to go out and play. So I just naturally did this shit. Huh)

For all of the northerners that stood up for Texas during our freeze and said, "Don't make fun of them, they've never dealt with this before. Their infrastructure isn't made for snow and freezing."

This one is for you.

Where I live 108°F with 80% humidity with no wind is normal.

Pacific North West is dealing historic best waves 35-40°C or 95-105°F.

First of all. Don't make fun of them for bitching about the heat. Just like Texas isn't built for a freeze and our pipes burst, Pacific North West isn't built for heat and a lot of their homes don't have AC.

If you live somewhere with a high humidity like 80+ HUMIDITY IS NOT YOUR FRIEND. The "humidity makes it feel cooler" is a lie once it gets beyond a point.

If you live somewhere with a lower humidity, misters are nice to cool off outside.

Once you get over 90°F (32°C) a fan will not help you. It's just pushing around hot air. (I mean if you can't afford a small AC unit because they're expensive as hell, by all means a fan is better than nothing).

If you have pets, those portable AC units aren't safe. If your pets destroy the outtake thing, it'll leak CO2. Window units are safer.

Window AC units will let mosquitoes or other small bugs in. Sucks, but that's life.

Now is not the time to me modest. If you have to cover for religious reasons, by all means. If you don't, I've seen people wear short shorts and a swim top. It's not trashy if it keeps you from getting heat stroke.

If you do have to cover up for religious reasons, look for elephant pants or something similar. They're made with a breathable material.

Shade is better than no shade, but that shit it just diet sun after some point. Don't think shade will save you from heat stroke.

I know the "drink your water" is a fun meme now, but if you're sweating excessively you need electrolytes. Drink Gatorade, Powerade, or Pedialite PLEASE. I don't care if you're fucking sitting in one spot all day. That shit WILL save you from heat stroke.

Most importantly. RESEARCH THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HEAT STROKE AND HEAT EXHAUSTION PLEASE!

If you're diabetic and can't drink Gatorade, mix water, fruit juice, and either lite salt or pink salt

If you can afford it, cover windows with thick curtains to insulate the house

If you have tile floors, lay on them with skin to tile contact. If you don't, laying your head on cool counters works too.

If the temperature where you're at is hotter than your body temperature, don't wear heat wicking clothing. Moisture wicking is safe though.

Check your medication labels. Many make you more susceptible to sun and heat

-Room temperature water will get into your body faster. This is something I learned doing marching band in high summer in Georgia, and it saved all of our asses. Sip it, don't gulp it, especially if you're getting into the red; same goes for whatever fluid you're drinking. And just in general drink during the day.

-If you are moving from an air conditioned space to an un-air conditioned space, if at all possible try to make the shift gradual. When my dad and I were working outside and in un-ac houses a few years ago, he'd turn the air down to low in the truck about ten-fifteen minutes before we got where we were going. This way your body doesn't go from low low temps to high temps. S'bad for you.

-If you can, keep your lights off during the day. Light bulbs may not generate a lot of heat, but the difference is noticeable when it gets hot enough. I literally only turn my bedroom light on in the evening when it gets too dark.

Don't be afraid to just like... pour water on yourself if you need to. The evaporation will cool you off.

Put your hand to the cement for 15 seconds. If you can't handle the heat, it'll burn your dog's paws. Don't let them walk on it.

Dogs with flat faces are more prone to heat stroke. Don't leave them out unsupervised.

Frozen fruit is delicious in water.

Wet/Cold hat/handkerchief on your head/neck will help you stay cool.

Pickle juice is great for electrolytes! You can even make pickle juice Popsicles!

Heat exhaustion is more, "drink water and get you cooled off." Heat stroke is more "Oh my god call 911."

Image Description provided by @loveize

[Image description: an infographic showing the difference between heat exhaustion and heat stroke. The graphic is labeled "Heat Dangers: First Warning." Signs of heat exhaustion: faint or dizzy, excessive sweating, cool, pale, clammy skin, rapid, weak pulse, muscle cramps. If you think you or someone else may be experiencing heat exhaustion, get to a cool, air-conditioned place, drink water if conscious, and take a cool shower or use cold compress. Signs of heat stroke: throbbing headache, no sweating, red, hot, dry skin, rapid, strong pulse, may lose consciousness. If you think you or someone else may be experiencing heat stroke, call 911. End description]

Be safe.

-fae

[lunarcrown]

Odd request here...

Jimpulse art

Plz

Yknow what? Hell yeah!!! Summer cuddle nap time plus BONUS: impulse pulls his claws out to give some truly stellar wing scratches, knocks Jimmy clean out 💤💤💤

Plus bonus mini drabble by @opalwhisker under the cut bc she was inspired by the sprit of jimpulse HAHA

It was a gloriously perfect day outside. Sunny and warm, but not too hot thanks to a nice cool breeze in the air... the perfect day for a nap in the shade, which exactly what Impulse and Jimmy were doing.

Impulse, Tango and Skizz had all planned a fun day filled with activities for when Jimmy was going to visit the Hermitcraft server, but things rarely ever go to plan and Tango and Skizz had to dip away for a moment to take care of a few things, leaving just Impulse to entertain Jimmy.

Impulse obviously knew Jimmy fairly well after all the life series they'd played in together, but he'd still never had much one-on-one interaction with him before, so his initial attempts at conversation were a little stilted and awkward. He liked Jimmy and thought he was pretty cool and fun to be around... and if he was being honest, Impulse might admit he had a bit of a man crush on the handsome blonde man.

Fortunately, despite Impulse's awkward attempts at conversation, they found themselves slipping into comfortable conversation fairly quickly. Jimmy's smiles and giggles directed right at him had Impulse feeling a little funny, almost as if he were a schoolgirl talking to her crush. But how could he not feel like that when someone as handsome as Jimmy was paying attention to him and no one else in that moment? It felt like they were the only two players on the server when Jimmy spoke to him like that.

"Say, Impulse...?" Jimmy started hesitantly, "I know you 'n Skizz 'n Tango planned out this whole day for when I visited but, uh, since we have a moment, d'y'think we could maybe just... lay on a blanket in some shade and take a nap? That last round of Hungry Hermits really wore me out." Jimmy smiled apologetically and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, looking expectantly at Impulse with those beautiful brown eyes.

"Oh, sure! Yeah, of course, Jimmy! That sounds like a great idea! Here, lemme grab a blanket for us..." Impulse reflexively took Jimmy's hand and led him over to the shade of the nearest tree, rummaging through his ender chest before pulling out a large blanket and laying it on the grass. He put away the ender chest and knelt on the blanket, patting the ground next to him to invite Jimmy to lay down, which the avian happily did, flopping back onto the blanket with a relieved sigh.

"Ohhhh yeah, that's the stuff...." Jimmy heaved a big sigh and closed his eyes, leaving Impulse to fidget a bit by himself, unsure if he should lay down next to Jimmy or just stay as he was.

"...Well? Are you gonna lay down or what?" Jimmy cracked one eye open to look at Impulse, "You were gonna take a nap with me, right?"

"Oh!" Impulse felt his face flush at Jimmy's words, "I uh, wasn't sure if that's what you meant, or--"

"'Course its what I meant! Now get your butt over here, its absolutely perfect nap weather." Jimmy smiled so warmly at him, Impulse couldn't refuse his request, sliding down to lay next to Jimmy on the blanket, close but still a respectful distance between them. Jimmy seemed unhappy about this.

"Do I stink or something? I thought we were going to take a nap _together._" Jimmy pouted, "What's a nap without a bit of cuddling?"

"Well, I guess you're right... naps are better when youre cuddling!" Impulse giggled, trying to mask how flustered he felt that Jimmy expressed a desire to cuddle with _him._

"Of course they are, now get over 'ere!" Jimmy motioned Impulse closer, and the demon hybrid scooted closer until Jimmy could nestle into Impulse's side, resting his head on Impulse's shoulder while Impulse wrapped his arm around Jimmy's body, his hand resting in the bright yellow feathers of Jimmy's wings.

Impulse hoped Jimmy wouldn't be able to hear how hard his heart was beating in his chest at their proximity. Jimmy was so close Impulse could smell the scent of his shampoo in his hair and feel Jimmy's breath tickle his collarbone.

"Ohhh yes this is nice~" Jimmy sighed, practically melting in Impulse's arms, "I always wondered if cuddling with you felt as good as it looks and now I can say that it's even better~"

Impulse was too stunned at the compliment to respond, his cheeks flushing even hotter at the compliment. He was sure Jimmy had to be hearing his heart pounding against his ribcage at this point and must just be teasing him to hear it flutter some more.

"The only thing that could make this better is... y'know, if you wanted to, maybe run your fingers through my feathers? It always feels so nice and relaxing when someone does that...." Jimmy peeked up at Impulse with those cute brown eyes and there was no way Impulse could resist.

"If--" Impulse cleared his throat when the first word came out more high pitched with nerves than he'd wanted it to, "If you want, yeah I-- I can do that..."

The effect was almost instant as soon as Impulse began to card his fingers through Jimmy's soft, golden feathers. The avian hybrid shivered and sighed, melting against Impulse even more, closing his eyes and seeming lost in the calming sensation. His breathing slowed and for a moment Impulse thought he'd fallen asleep and stopped running his fingers through Jimmy's feathers, eliciting a breathless, pleading whine from Jimmy that gave Impulse pleasant goosebumps.

"Noooo please don't stop.... it felt so nice...." Jimmy pouted. "I haven't had someone run their fingers through my feathers like this since the last time Tango did it... oh his claws felt so nice running through them..." Jimmy sighed, lost in his reminiscing for a moment before remembering who he was cuddling with, "Oh! I mean. You're doing a great job too, Impulse! Tango's just got those claws that run through my feathers differently..."

"I mean... if you like it, I could use my claw for you, too." Impulse offered shyly, trying not to blush. What was he doing? He liked Jimmy, but he wasn't close enough with him to know how he might feel about Impulse relaxing more of his glamor around him. Normally Impulse wouldn't even consider something like that until he was more confident that whoever it was wouldn't get scared of him afterwards. There was just something about Jimmy... Impulse wanted to do everything he could to make him happy.

"You... have claws?" Jimmy glanced between Impulse's face and free hand with a bit of confusion, "I didnt know you had claws, Impulse."

"O-oh, um, yeah... usually i keep them hidden with magic, I've found that people are less scared when I hide them.... _Anyways-_" Impulse cut Jimmy off just as he was opening his mouth to respond to Impulse's comment, "I can undo the magic that keeps them hidden if you want..." Jimmy frowned for a moment, noticing Impulse's evasion of the topic, but choosing not to press further.

"If that's okay with you.... yes, please that sounds so nice!" Jimmy smiled so cutely at him Impulse felt his heart jump into his throat for a moment.

"Okay then, then, just close your eyes and I'll-"

"Actually... could I... see? Your claws I mean. If its okay with you!" Jimmy nibbled his lower lip a bit anxiously, "I promise I won't be scared or anything!" He hastily reassured Impulse.

"Well..." Impulse hesitated for a moment. He wasn't sure if he should let Jimmy see, but the avian puppy dog eyes won him over in the end. "Sure, if you want to see, that's fine."

Impulse smiled and Jimmy beamed back at him, his face alight with excitement as he cuddled even closer, resting his head against Impulse's chest and twining their legs together.

Impulse lifted his hand up for Jimmy to see as he slowly undid the glamor that hid his claws, the illusion melting away to reveal his claws and scaled hand, the tough, scaly skin running up his entire forearm.

_"Oh. My. Gosh!!"_ Jimmy squealed, "That is so cool!! Impulse, your claws are so pretty!"

Impulse could feel himself blushing ten times hotter at Jimmy's compliments, his heart racing again at the genuine expression of appreciation and Jimmy's proximity. Evn Impulse couldn't keep his tail from instinctively curling around their legs possessively, his tail tip flicking back and forth in a pleased motion as Jimmy grabbed Impulse's hand to examine his claws and scales up close.

With this perfect weather, cuddled up to someone who makes his heart flutter and is actually admiring a part of himself Impulse usually hid from the world... it was completely perfect. Impulse wished they could stay like that forever in the comfort of each other, but knowing that it wouldn't be forever only made that intimate moment something he savored even more in the moment.

[selunefae]

a/n: first time doing headcanons. :p wanted to try it bc they're quicker to write. i was at the gym and got inspired. xD

masterlist | rules

Gymbro!Caleb who notices you the first day you step a foot into the gym. It’s not every day a cutie like you walks in, all nervous and tugging at your sleeves as you squint at the machines like they're some kind of torture devices.

Gymbro!Caleb who's always there at the distance. All big arms and even bigger chest, tank top clinging into his skin and leaving little to the imagination. You can't help but glance his way every time his muscles flex as he finishes a series. He's always wearing that gentle smile that makes it hard to focus on your reps.

Gymbro!Caleb who finally makes his move when he catches you struggling at the hack squat machine – legs shaking, form all wrong, far too much weight. He starers at you for a moment, then walks straight over with no hesitation and that damn smile. "Here, let me help you."

Gymbro!Caleb who absolutely didn't need to get that close to help you. His chest brushes your sides, one arm around your waist as he adjusts your back. From this distance, you can catch traces of his smell. The faint smell of sweat, faded deodorant, and something distinctly masculine. You're too dazed to protest.

Gymbro!Caleb who somehow always ends up at the gym during your sessions. Monday before work? He's there. A late friday evening? Still there. And every time, he finds a new excuse to keep lingering. "Want to take turns in press?" or "Let me lift this for you."

Gymbro!Caleb whose hands trail lower with every interaction. One day it's his hands brushing your stomach, another day his fingers ghost your thighs. And you don’t stop him. In fact, you start to look forward to those moments.

Gymbro!Caleb who visibly stiffens the moment another guy talks to you. His smile drops, his jaw tightens, and his brows knit together like he’s about to lift the entire gym floor. The guys always end up storming off when he appears behind you, but an instant later, he acts like nothin happened.

Gymbro!Caleb who starts bringing you snacks and protein-packed meals to eat after workout. At first, it's "I made to much and don't want it to go to waste", but two weeks pass by and he’s still doing it.

Gymbro!Caleb who smirks every time you mess up a set and get really flustered, just to brush it off with “Don’t worry, i’ll help you with whatever you need.” And he means it. But he wishes you needed him for more than just your reps.

Gymbro!Caleb who offers to walk you home one night after a late session and waits outside your building until he sees the lights in your room turn on. He doesn't care if he lives on the opposite side of town.

Gymbro!Caleb who’s never flat-out told you how he feels, but shows it in the little things he does. He wipes down every machine before you sit on it, never leaves until you're done, and makes sure you're eating enough.

Gymbro!Caleb who’s clearly into you, but you still think he’s just being nice.

Gymbro!Caleb who finally snaps when a cocky newbie tries to flirt with you near the dumbbell racks. He steps in mid-sentence, voice low and one hand resting on your shoulder. “She already has a trainer.” And suddenly, he’s twice his size and the guy’s gone.

Gymbro!Caleb who leans in right after, close enough that his breath warms your cheek: “Guess I’ll have to make you mine before someone else tries to snatch you.”

Gymbro!Caleb who drags you into the empty yoga studio that night, presses you against the wall, and kisses you like he’s been holding back for months. One of his hands traps you as the other hugs your waist, his kisses are hungry and messy. You let him, because you've been waiting to.

Gymbro!Caleb who might be territorial and a little too possessive, but completely melts the second you tug his hair and push him down.

Gymbro!Caleb who lets you take the lead, savouring how you rub agaisnt him as you continue desperately tugging at his hair and clothes. He could easily overpower you, but he likes seeing you in control. He likes that you think he's wrapped around your fingers, and maybe he is.

Gymbro!Caleb who still cooks for you after that night, who still checks your form and counts your sets and glares down every guy who glances your way. Especially now. Because now, he’s finally claimed you, and he’s not letting anyone else have you.

[craniumcrunch]

i’ve thought about this a lot recently — more specifically asking myself the question of, had any of the others reached out to misty, would she have accepted?

look at her relationship with walter. it started out tentative, with misty initially shying away from his advances in favour of seeking out nat. then in the compound nat forsakes her (in a sense) for lottie, and in their brief encounter shauna seeks to alienate her from the rest of the group. these are the seeds sown for the deprivation tank hallucination, wherein which her ‘perfect partner’ is one who accepts her exactly as she is. and i mean, walter can technically never fit the mould of perfect partner because he’s a MAN, but other than that he *should* check her boxes. and at a distance, he does! it’s not like misty only ever feels derision regarding him. there is a compulsion to be close to him because he is possibly the only person on the planet who cares (in his own weird way). vulnerability. a perceived, false connection, vastly different to all the others she’s formed — in which misty plays the role of the *pursued*, rather than the *pursuer* and it makes her so, so uncomfortable.

so that’s kind of what i want to talk about here. misty being the object as opposed to the subject. misty being on the receiving end of affection rather than its giver. one of the reasons her relationships just *can’t* work out is because misty invests 100% of her energy into the person she’s focused on and expects them to give, like, 7% back. and i think she’s afraid of doing things differently. i think that, secretly, she’s relieved when none of the girls call her up.

this rejection of care isn’t something we see her do with walter alone, bc then it could just be chalked up to *that*. no, when nat’s on the phone with her, back in s1, misty interrupts her before she can apologise. equally, she glosses over nat’s apology at the door. because these interactions are genuine, and misty spurns affection unless it’s something manipulated/controlled. that isn’t to say she doesn’t desire being cared for — it’s to say it’s a shallow desire, it’s her chasing an idea, like she does with romance/men.

also to do with how she subconsciously hates herself and actively pushes away anybody who emulates any one of her behaviours. case in point, walter, and you could even argue shauna — what with her stalking and their similar responses to lottie’s death and such. + shauna giving her that brief monologue at the end going like ‘you’re just like me’ and misty’s face going all blank. yeah, she’s figured out they’re a lot more similar than either of them originally thought a long time ago.

i have completely forgotten about how misty canonically spent 6 WEEKS in bed after nats death and literally none of the girls called or went to check on her #KILLINGMYSELF

[ineed-to-sleep]

Ran into another post about the disney-midjourney lawsuit discourse and tbh it baffles me every time. You guys Do know it's already illegal to sell fanart, right? You know that the lawsuit isn't calling for expansion of copyright law and disney doesn't need to expand it in order to win, right? You know disney is only *really* suing midjourney because it has a subscription option(profit) and has the capacity to mass produce copyrighted work(scale), and the interest disney has in this is entirely money based, and they won't suddenly see a monetary benefit to be gained from suing small artists after this(who neither make enough of a profit nor produce their work in a large enough scale to become a real competitor for disney), right? You know making money off of copyrighted work that's not yours or that you don't have a license for hasn't been protected by the law for a really long time and we make it despite this because we know it's very unlikely to give us trouble, right? Right guys? Right???? You know your rights, don't you guys?????? Guys????????????????

[iwishiwasavampire]

adult twinyards where in order to bond they have very serious very important hang out appointments, 4 times of the year (bee’s idea, one hang out for every season), where they just try things until they find a “relaxing hobby” to do together, but it escalates into them trying to piss each other off by choosing weird shit. so far they’ve tried:

- ceramics (aaron’s lack of artistic abilities made this one very stressful for him, he just wanted to make a mug for katelyn, it ended up very deformed with a badly painted flower, she loved it anyway. andrew was actually kind of good at it, but hated the texture of dry ceramic paint. he made a mug with a little queen chess piece for kevin and a plate with an orange fox paw for neil) bee’s first suggestion.

- shooting range (aaron was actually really good at it, but he hates the feeling of aggression it caused on him and barely spoke the whole time bc of it, andrew was amused for the first 40 minutes but didn’t like how noisy the whole affair was, he is more of a knife guy anyway) aaron’s first (and only) sincere suggestion

- going to the movies. andrew’s turn to pick, but it was a holiday weekend and everything else was closed. They watched captain america: the winter soldier (they both enjoyed the movie, the first words out of aaron’s mouth when it ended were: “that was kind of…..gay, right?” and andrew was like “yeah.” they had pizza after.

- cat cafe. andrew sent a pic of the cat him and neil bullied kevin into letting them adopt, so aaron thought it would be funny taking andrew to a cat cafe (they both had a good time playing with the cats and eating pastries, this is where they started to develop their joint hater slay, bc aaron made enemies during his first month of residency at the hospital and didn’t want to stress katelyn out about it so he just spends 2 hours shit talking pretty much everyone in the hospital to andrew’s delight).

- going to the Maserati building/american headquarters (?) to discuss a sponsorship deal they were offering andrew (not a real hang out, but they had sooooo much fun annoying executive and making stupid demands, andrew sign the contract only after they added a clause that whatever car andrew gets out of has to have a bunch of modifications for someone who is 5’0 foot tall, with an ashtray, but no dashboard lighter, a specific safe place for a pet carrier and other stuff like that and also aaron also gets one) not a real hang out, but aaron got a fancy car out of it so he won’t complain. (also, andrew’s publicist was there and she came out of it traumatized)

meanwhile neil, kevin and katelyn have a group chat to share whatever weird pictures they receive from their significant others during those hang outs.

[asiatic-apple]

hallo!

Smut # 14 - Caleb - Fem! Reader cus college AU caleb lives rent free in my college self

Thank you for the request! This is my first time writing with non-MC!reader in mind bc she’s implied to be studying the same thing as caleb and is presumably in the same class as him. I hope that’s alright with you!

Private lessons

Caleb x female reader (non-MC)

Words: 1.5k

Prompt: library sex for those dark academia vibes

Content: y’all are trespassing loll but it’s not serious, public sex but no one is around to see it, possessiveness, blink-and-you-miss-it competency kink for caleb, use of “baby” as a pet name, also “my smart girl” and “good girl”, creampie

You’re not even supposed to be here. Technically, the campus library closed over an hour ago. But Caleb knows how to disable the magnetic lock on the side entrance with a flick of his wrist and a muttered ‘they really need better security’.

You’d only meant to study for the upcoming exam. Instead, you’re straddling him in the farthest corner of the engineering section, surrounded by old textbooks and barely lit by a dim red hue from the emergency exit signs.

“You were the one who said no distractions tonight,” you whisper, breath catching as he shifts beneath you. “What happened to focus?”

He smirks against your neck. “I am focused.”

His hands roam up under your shirt, callused fingertips trailing over the curve of your spine like he’s tracing the aircraft schematics from your textbooks. You shiver, more from anticipation than the chill as he hikes your shirt farther up your torso.

“It’s your fault,” he murmurs, lips brushing your skin. “You kept leaning over the table like that. Kept looking at me like you wanted to be taught a different lesson.”

You gasp as he ruts up against you, his erection thick and insistent beneath his pants. Your body jolts, accidentally bumping into the desk behind you and spilling the stack of thermodynamics printouts he’d tossed aside earlier. It’s a reminder of what you came here for in the first place.

“We’re supposed to be reviewing launch vectors,” you whine, even as you rock against him. Your mind screams that you should continue studying, lest you fail this stupid exam and have to take this class all over again. But your body could give less of a shit about the exam.

“I’m calculating a new trajectory,” Caleb replies, almost smug.

You breathe a soft laugh that turns to a moan as he cups your pussy through your shorts. His thumb rubs over the growing wet patch you leave behind, and you choke on a gasp. The sound makes him infinitely more impatient. He wastes no time shoving his hand beneath your pants and panties, running two thick fingers through your slick.

His touch is purposeful, the way he is with everything: steady, assured, thorough. Caleb is the kind of student professors love. All innocent smiles and endless charm while he uses his intelligence to impress them. But he’s also the kind of man who knows exactly how to pull a whimper from your throat without even trying—and carefully cataloging every time you shudder beneath him.

“You’re soaked,” he groans, more awestruck than teasing.

“And you’re still fully dressed,” you bite back.

That seems to spur him into action.

Caleb’s other arm tightens around your body, lifting you with him as he stands abruptly. His chair scrapes loudly against the floor before he plops you down on the messy table. There are so many books, papers, pens, and notebooks scattered around you.

But in one fluid, determined motion, he reaches behind you—with the hand not still buried in your pants—to sweep his arm across the table. Everything crashes to the floor in a messy avalanche, and the abruptness of it makes your pussy ache with even more arousal.

You barely have time to gasp before his fingers dip inside you, wanting a quick feel of how you clench around him so eagerly.

“Caleb–” you start to say, glancing at the mess of all your textbooks and notetaking supplies.

“I’ll clean it up later,” he mutters, not even sparing a glance at the chaos on the floor. His eyes are only on you.

Everything happens so quickly. His fingers slip out of your greedy cunt all too fast, but he immediately tugs your pants down your legs in the promise of filling you with something much better. Once you’re finally bared to him, he looms closer, slotting his wide body between your thighs.

His chest heaves, like he’s torn between savoring this and devouring you like you’ll disappear if he hesitates for even a second.

It seems he decides on the latter for tonight.

Caleb hurriedly unzips his pants, only pulling the waistband down enough to free his cock, and you salivate at the familiar sight of him. You want to touch, want to taste…But he shakes his head when you reach out for him. He taps your thighs, wordlessly asking you to spread them wider so he can nudge the head of his cock against your dripping entrance.

And when you tilt your hips and whimper for him, he doesn’t make you wait any longer. He pushes into you with one slow drag, stretching you open until your hands are scrabbling behind you for something—anything—to hold on to.

You’ll never get used to this feeling. The way he fills you perfectly, like your body was created to be wrapped snugly around his.

“Shit,” he groans, hands bracing the table on either side of your thighs. “That’s it, baby…take me deeper. Fuck—you can do it. Such a good study buddy for me, yeah?” His lips twitch with a smile, but through his teasing, he still manages to press a gentle kiss to your tensed jaw.

You clutch at the edge of the table for balance as he starts to thrust, his pace initially slow and controlled despite how frenzied he seemed before. Your whole body is shaking from the effort of staying quiet. Every time he slides in just right, you sob his name a bit louder. And it just spurs him on, makes him fuck you harder, determined to pull more moans from your lips.

The thrill of the risk, the setting, the way you’re surrounded by knowledge while your brain turns to mush—it all makes it even harder not to cry out. It feels wrong to be so loud in a library that’s usually only filled with hushed whispers. But no one is here to witness your debauchery. Only Caleb hears the downright pornographic sounds you’re making. And he seems to be enjoying every second.

That smug glint in his eyes makes something within you bubble to the surface—something annoyed and frustrated that he can work you up this easily. “You better hope I don’t fail the exam tomorrow,” you growl as you claw at his shirt and run your fingers up his abs. 

“You won’t,” he says a bit too confidently. “I’ve studied with you the whole semester. I’ve taught you everything you need to know.”

His words are both possessive and full of awe in your abilities. And his thumb rubs gentle circles along your clit as he says the last part—as if he’s implying he taught you more than just the drag and thrust involved in aerodynamics.

He’s your proud mentor. And you’ll never need a different tutor while he’s around, he’s made sure of that.

“You’ll ace the test,” he coos, “because you’re my smart girl, aren’t you?”

Your cheeks burn, and you hide your face in Caleb’s neck as he pounds you even harder now. You're so achingly close to coming with the way he touches your clit, but he stops for a second to pull your face back and grip your chin just tight enough to keep your dazed eyes on him.

“Say it, baby,” he demands breathlessly, words hitching with each deep thrust of his hips. “Say you're gonna ace the test.”

You barely know what you're promising as it spills out, fueled entirely by your need to come. “Yes, I'll ace it—ah—I promise!”

You clench around him, and he shudders, forehead dropping to your shoulder and pressing lazy kisses between thrusts. “Good girl,” he pants. You can feel his stupidly sexy smile against your neck, and it only turns you on more. “Come for me, baby. Let me feel you.”

Barely a breath later and you’re unraveling beneath him, your whole body convulsing with the force of your climax. Caleb bites back a curse, grinding into you as you clench around him and milk his cock for every drop of cum spilling inside in slow, pulsing waves.

When he eventually pulls out, you gasp at the mess it makes on the table beneath you. You know you should be embarrassed by what the two of you did here, but you’re still too blissed out to care too much.

For a long moment, the only sound in the empty library is the echo of your combined heavy breathing and the distant hum of the building’s power systems.

You’re still catching your breath when Caleb litters soft kisses along your cheeks and the corner of your grinning lips. “So…still want to quiz me on launch vectors?”

You snort, slapping his chest in playful annoyance. “Only if you plan on using it to get us out of trouble when campus security finds us.”

Want to be added to my tag list?

💕 tag list: @heartyluv @doeeyes515 @lethalasylum @starryeyed-apple @starlitfics @craeatio @rafayelslittlestar @ruralamours @alyssac9 @blushofeve @alastor-simp @nezuswritingdesk @yoonights @ashirelle @jamfingers @decadentwastelandpoetry @yrdarlingpup @asiaticapple @spidermanlaalalalala @partycityyyyyyy @raendarkfaerie @sweetcalebb @mikenotmic @jenvhae @kaeyasfuturewife @purpleamethyst25 @grapeees16 @pepitesingulare @opalesquegirl

🍎 tag list: @walleeli @honeymoonfleur @stargirlygirl @floatinginaer @k-lq20 @sweatybonkhumanoidranch @gravity-pilot @honeycrispangels @mcdepressed290 @cloudedangels @hdigditditdjgd @yansolivan @variadims @batteryacidkeepsyousane

dividers by me (please do not repost)

[misaerabl]

MUTED 𝝑𝑒 - masterlist

✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚ gamer&commentary creator!e x influencer!u (enemies to lovers) SUMMARY : wc... ? ˙⋆✮˙ A lifestyle creator with a flawless feed. A reaction channel with a talent for starting drama. Your world is all soft lighting and subtle shade—Ellie Williams is loud edits, louder opinions, and a fanbase that lives for her chaos. You and Ellie were never supposed to cross paths. But one reaction stream, one too-perfect subtweet, and the internet writes its own narrative: a rivalry they can’t get enough of. You’re curated. She’s unfiltered. You go viral for routines. She goes viral for ruining them. It should’ve ended online—but now you’re stuck sharing a cabin, sharing space, sharing tension that won’t stay hidden behind screens. Ellie is frustrating. Fame is relentless. And somewhere between stolen glances and snarky remarks, the line between content and connection starts to blur. Because when everything is made to be watched, the most dangerous thing you can do is feel.

˙⋆✮ READ THE REST ON AO3!

PROLOGUE -- "not sorry"

ellie.exe is live...

The screen is dimly lit in cool purples and flickering LED strips. A soft lo-fi playlist hums beneath the click-clack of keys and the occasional irritated—

“Dude, seriously?”

Ellie, tucked into a hoodie and headset, squints at her monitor, brows furrowed in the way that makes her fans screenshot the stream and tweet things like “she’s so baby when she’s mad”.

She's midway through a stream of some hyper-buggy online multiplayer game her chat begged her to play. She’s not good at it. She’s not pretending to be good at it.

Which is, naturally, why thousands are watching.

“Okay, there is no way that hit me. Roll back the tape. That’s cheating. That’s hacking, actually. I’m reporting him.”

The chat explodes:

lmaoo classic ellie L NOOB.exe pls check out @/reader’s new vid tho omg 😭 she’d beat this game faster than u lmao grwm girl supremacy!!!

Ellie groans, tossing her controller onto her lap and reaching for the watered-down iced coffee she’s been sipping since the stream started. The condensation leaves a faint ring on her desk.

“Okay, okay—pause. I need hydration and emotional support.”

Sip. Grimace. Another sip.

“Wait, who are you all yelling about?”

The chat floods with one name: your username, a wave of heart emojis, thirst comments, and “SHIP??” spam.

“Reader?” Ellie squints at the screen. “The GRWM chick? Seriously?”

A few more keystrokes, a few clicks.

“Okay, I mean… sure. Gotta give the fans what they want.”

The game feed shrinks into the corner. A new window opens on her overlay—your latest video.

GRWM: Night Out Routine (Even If You Cancel Last Minute) 💄🍷

The video fades in. You’re cross-legged on your bed, silky robe slung off one shoulder, hair twisted up with a claw clip, all soft lighting and softer skin. You’re smiling at the camera, walking through a lineup of glassy skincare bottles like it’s second nature.

Ellie leans forward slightly. Just a bit.

“She’s giving Vogue cover, but also… does she even sweat?”

Chat starts twitching:

UR EYES R TOO WIDE STAND UP she plugs her sephora code every 3 minutes she’s got you in a chokehold already babe 😭

“Like, does her skincare budget exceed my rent?”

She pauses—lets the silence sit there a second.

“I’m not judging—I’m just confused. Does she live at Sephora?”

The chat absolutely loses it.

no bc the tension already you’re just in love just say it someone ship name this rn you guys are delusional. ellie hates people like her

Ellie lifts her hands in mock surrender.

“Chat, I’m not a hater—I’m just a broke, bitter lesbian. Calm down.”

She smirks. Just a little. The kind that makes her left cheek dimple slightly, which only makes her chat explode even more.

nah she’s BLUSHING for real

She minimizes the window. Boots her game back up.

“Anyway. I’m going back to getting absolutely smoked in this trash server. Thanks for the detour, creeps.”

But it’s already too late.

The screen recordings are circulating. TikToks are multiplying like bacteria in petri dishes. The fan edits are being born—dramatic music, soft fades, your skincare and her flustered commentary spliced together.

Meanwhile, on your end. Your phone buzzes with a flurry of DMs. Some from fans. Some from mutuals. All of them saying the same thing:

“girl... ellie.exe just reviewed your grwm and i’m SOBBING” “you gonna let her talk to you like that or...?” “you got her blushing on camera 😭”

You scroll. You find the clip. You raise a brow.

Fuck this girl. Fuck her.

You stare at your screen for a bit before hitting post on the tweet.

you @/yourhandle ✨ skincare hits different when your lighting source isn’t a 3am Twitch stream 😘

Your mentions explode. The war has begun.

You swipe through your mentions, catching glimpses of your own face edited onto Mortal Kombat fighters, people tagging Ellie and begging her to respond. You tell yourself you’re over it. That you’ve said what you needed to say. That she doesn’t matter.

And then someone DMs you again.

“uhhhh did you see her tweet 💀”

You open Twitter.

ellie @/ellie.exe some ppl act brand new just because the sun hits them once and they didn’t burst into flames. proud of you 😇

You blink. Read it again. Your jaw actually drops.

That smug, passive-aggressive, “not-a-reply-but-yes-it-is” tone practically has her signature all over it. She didn’t tag you. She didn’t have to. It’s as good as a shot fired.

Like she didn’t start this by coming for your routine with her crusty gamer hands and talking about you like you were a mall display instead of a person?

Oh, hell no.

You set your phone down. Pick it back up. Type. Delete. Type again. Your jaw clenches as you pace your room, bare feet dragging across a fluffy rug as the late afternoon sun pours across your floor—the same one she saw in your video. The one she smirked at like it offended her personally.

You finally hit post.

you @/yourhandle ✨ no hate to the gamers but if your selfcare knowledge is based on your reflection in a loading screen… maybe hush 😘

You don’t even wait to see the fallout this time. You toss your phone onto your bed like it burned you and go to pour yourself something strong and unnecessary.

By the time you come back, Twitter’s already turned your quote tweet into a meme. Your face on a skincare ad. Ellie’s on a GameStop receipt. Someone edited a fake YouTube thumbnail:

“GRWM to fight a gamer lesbian (gone wrong) (emotional)”

You try to laugh, but it comes out tight.

Your blood is hot. Not quite angry, not quite amused. It’s something in between. Something irritating and unfamiliar. Something that smells like obsession.

comments: “they’re gonna make out or kill each other, no in between.” “this is the weirdest foreplay i’ve ever witnessed and i’m here for it” “ellie.exe called her sensitive and now she’s dismantling her entire existence 💅”

You actually exhale a disbelieving, “Oh my God,” into your empty room.

She’s insufferable. Infuriating. Smug. And you hate—hate—the way her face lingered in your head after watching her watch you.

You were supposed to win this. You were supposed to make her shut up. So You make her... By Clicking the block button.

KEEP UP! KEEP UP!

prologue... (you are here!) - "blocked. not sorry" part 1. - "fuck the algorithm" part 2. - "room for conflict" part 3. - "for the record" part 4. - ??? + more!!! (next parts will be posted daily! see you tomorrow!, please comment to be added to the taglist!)

[alanisstonedd]

MDNI

bum!ony that sees you walking your route to work when he starts crashing with his hb, always outside on the corner chopping it up when you stroll by minding your damn business. mad cute but wayyy outta his league. you got it all together, and he’s practically the opposite

bum!ony that swallows his pride to holla at your fine ass when you’re waiting to cross the street one day. you giggle at some one-liner he drops & he’s hooked.

bum!ony who forms a lil bond with you on the corner before it gets serious. it’s a lil routine — you giggle at him on the way to work and throw him a clever line on the way back home. he loves y’all’s lil game & is honestly happy with whatever attention you give him.

bum!ony who is so surprised when you ask him to lunch on your way home one day. he jumps at the opportunity not even tryna front like he’s not excited.

bum!ony who charms you on the date. you don’t even seem to care that he spends too much time on the corner to have a consistent job. that smile? the way he looks at you? that rough, slightly unreliable sex appeal he oozes? your guard is embarrassingly low. but what can you sayyy — he makes you feel a way. a way you’re not ready to let go of.

bum!ony who moves — in as a “friend” — when his hb gets booked. you figure, he’s not exactly a stranger & you can’t let him go homeless! he said it’d only be until he could get on his feet so it’s fine! you have the extra space, it’d be a waste basically.

bum!ony who gives you foot rubs in exchange for his laundry done - unspoken ritual of course. his hands do tend to wander tho… sneaking up to your thighs to sink his fingers in.. you just smile & do that cute snicker he likes, courtesy of the two blunts he rolled for you earlier. no clue how he’s getting all this loud since he still don’t got a J O B

bum!ony who leaves his socks in the floor just to see your pussy print when you bend over. matter fact, you catch him looking quite a lot. always “grabbing sum real quick” when you’re in the shower, “accidentally” peeking his head in your room while you’re changing for a quick question. but you appreciate how comfortable he is — taking it as a compliment to your hospitality.

bum!ony who starts rubbing on your booty whenever you bring up his unemployment. mumbling some excuse while he licks his lips at you. taking your accidental moan as the go ahead to start dragging you into him. you can never stay maddddd he’s like crack.

bum!ony who man-spreads on the couch with just his draws on. print fully out. he palms it when you walk by. dragging you into his lap for a “hug” because you look like you had a hard day apparently. he’s the best hugger tho so your happy self don’t mind. you feel a little guilty honestly - feeling like a slut for getting so wet when he was just trying to get comfy.

bum!ony who starts sleeping in your bed when the couch gets to “uncomfortable”. his big ass frame taking up half the bed. his half-chub somehow finding your booty in the middle of the night. he’s just so big, you might as well start cuddling. he’s even worse then… lowkey humping you “in his sleep”. yall end up tangled with his head smack on your tits, mouth open and snoring over your nipple.

bum!ony who gets so horny when you cook for him. which is every night bcs he doesn’t help you with shit. you end up laying on top of him making out, letting him push into you bcs you gave him blue-balls baby. duhh. he takes you back to your bed and fucks all the calories off, drilling you into the mattress like a rag doll.

bum!ony who teases you when you leave your laundry out in the living room — about your panties specifically. talking out his ass about the lil lacy thing to the point you put it on to show him how wrong he is about them. and oh is he wrong… makes you ride his face with them pulled to the side, all over the couch.

bum!ony who humps you while you wash the dishes. that’s it

bum!ony who tricks you into sex with his fine ass face after he misses another job interview. kissing all over you cuz he knows it distracts you. dicking you down sideways with a hand on your tit and more empty promises in your ear. but you don’t even hear none of it over the slapping of his hips and the squelch of your cream all over him.

bum!ony who loves when you have a bad day at work bcs you don’t ask him about a job and you fuck him like a toy. using him for that nut. your hand moves to his neck and you start fucking out the frustration you’ve built up at his bum ass. its animalistic.

bum!ony who randomly comes home with a BAG one day. like serious money. first thing he buys is some lingerie for you to model for him. might take some photos while you doing ya thang for posterity ofc.

[mona-risms]

Not exactly a request but food for thoughts. (Though if this did give you anything to work with I'd love to see what you turn up with.)

Mirror sex with Rumi because you just have to show her how pretty she is.

She didn't like her demon marks before the movie, her insecurity may still flare up every now and then afterwards even if it's lessened by the time the movie is over. Take her braid out and let her hair cascade around her like an electric purple waterfall.

(Very sure a life-long paralyzingly severe insecurity can't disappear over the course of a couple weeks or so. Especially when your own mother figure refuses to accept that part of you and explicitly treats it as a flaw.)

Kiss her face, her neck, arms, inner thighs, especially on the patterns. Prop her up, her back flush with your front so you're touching as much of her as possible, including the 'cursed' marks (that's a given.) make her face herself in the mirror while you touch her and whisper sweet nothings into her ear about how pretty she is.

If she denies it- tease her until she accepts the praise. Edge her a couple times, urging her to tell you things she does like about herself, her voice, her eyes... Watch her mascara run, by the way, she looks cute when you're thrusting your fingers into her cunt (make her agree with that statement as well). Her beautiful brown eyes look so pretty brimming with tears. Then slip in the marks again and just reassure her that she's beautiful, and the patterns are a part of her, and you love all of her.

In less than no time you'll have her fucked dumb enough to let go of her stress, if only for a little while.

Alright, that's enough horny for me. Good night !

I collapsed onto the floor WHAT THE HELL!!! I don't even know if I have anything to add to this I'm flabberghasted

How long do you think her hair would be first of all. Like. That's a longass fucking braid, surely it'd be like Stocking-level hair length right....or actually maybe even more so considering even Stocking's hair went down to her lower back at LEAST if tied up. Either way it's Very easy to just grip her hair so that she's Really facing the mirror properly

You ARE right in the fact that there's No Possible Fucking Way that she'd just stop feeling insecure all of a sudden when she essentially had shame and body dysphoria drilled into her very core just bc she was born half demon (A* parenting, Celine 😒). Hell, the first time the both of you have sex post-movie, she'd probably start off in the dark, and even then they still glow 🤷‍♀️. One must not be shocked if she needs to stop for the moment yk

Otherwise mother of FUCK man. Even her vision would get all blurry from the tears that keep building up and running down her cheeks do she can barely even see herself anyway, all while her entire body and ESPECIALLY her legs are Quivering Like Crazy and crying at the same time 😜😜😜😜 her cunt is so unbelievably slick from the amount of times you've edged her and for how long you've fingered her until she feels everything go so fucking hazy

Her patterns would most likely respond to the emotional overwhelm asw considering it seems like they tie together—you can easily tell when Rumi's at the very edge of cumming, so you can just draw your hand back and she whines loudly but she doesn't care, not when she's putting all her remaining brainpower to listen to you and do whatever you ask her just as long as you make her cum again so hard and make her squirt pleasepleasepleasegod--

Hey at least by the end of it she'll probably be thinking more of the way you've fucked her dumb bc of how much you love all of her instead of the lingering shame of her own ancestry and appearance 🫶 so like plan successful!!!!!

[time-woods]

Just wondering how long have you been drawing digitally? I’ve been drawing traditionally for 11 years now and started digitally only a few years ago but your art is so scrumptious and it looks so effortless!

Also if you have any tips on improving digitally i would love to know!

Absolutely LOVE your art! They make me so happy!=)

i thiiiink ive been drawing digitally since 2018 ? ? somewhere around that, (jeez i was like 12 . . ) and i got my first drawing tablet -

my main tip is just keep drawing ! experiment with all the things you can do with digital art ! or you can treat it the same as traditional and paint with one layer. to be honest i treat digital art very similar how i go about drawing traditionally (theres even paper textured screen protectors u can get for tablets to make em have the same feel as a sketchbook ! )

its been 7 years of digital art for me and i still dont know all the tools in clipstudio paint (mainly cause i dont like watching tutorials an just like teaching myself )) but just mess around with things ! sorry thats the only real tip i can give

also thankyou ! !

[jj-one]

you asked for hard thoughts so i felt the need to pull through 😌😌

ik this is probably a popular thing, but jisung in literally any public/semi public setting. the initial hesitation before the horniness wins out?? feral.

pulling him into a bathroom without any warning? pushing him into a camera booth at the mall and planting yourself on his lap? letting your hand creep far to high on his thigh when no one is looking? yes. yes please.

ANYWAYS THATS MY THOUGHTS OK THANK YOU BYEEEEE 🫶🫶

one thing about me is i love public sex specifically bc of the elements of it being risky and making sure not to get caught so ily for this 🤭 anyways let’s goooo

jisung’s most definitely not the strongest soldier when it comes to being able to resist you— especially when you’re the one continuously provoking him. he notices everything. from your small touches here and there to the side glances you keep making every so often, it pushes him to a point of no return. it makes his head spin. and all he wants is to bury his cock so deep in you until neither of you can think a single thought anymore.

you knew exactly what you’re doing, too. the way you giggle at nothing, fingers trailing along his arm like you’re testing just how far you can go. the way you press a little closer every time you two walk past a store window, pretending to glance at something inside, but it’s him you’re watching in the reflection. his jaw tightening. eyes narrowing. the growing tension in his frame each time your hand almost brushes his belt.

so, really, it should be no surprise when he yanks you into the photo booth at the far end of the mall, drawing the curtain closed with shaky fingers, the low hum of the screen flickering to life just as you land in his lap. the confined space is barely wide enough to hold you both, and yet, you manage to straddle him with ease, your knees pressing into the bench, thighs caging him in like you planned this.

“you’re unbelievable,” he mutters, breath warm against your neck, voice caught between disbelief and pure hunger. his hands already gripping your sides, holding you down against him like you might float away otherwise. you only smile, that wicked little curve of your lips that makes his cock twitch in his jeans, and let your hand creep far too high on his thigh. knuckles brushing the outline of his hardening length, slow enough to make him shiver.

“and yet you’re doing nothing to stop me.”

jisung hisses between his teeth, head falling back briefly against the booth wall as you palm him fully. one arm fastened around your waist while the other fumbles to tap “start” on the booth screen, pretending you’re just two sweethearts taking goofy photos. four flashes. that’s all you get. four timed photos to act like you’re normal, like you’re not pressed against his bulge, grinding slow and heavy, mouthing at his neck like it’s a private room instead of a public setup tucked behind the food court.

but his hips buck up the moment your grip tightens, and suddenly you’re rolling your hips in his lap like you’ve forgotten you’re still technically out in public.

“you keep that up,” he growls low, lips dragging across your jaw, feeling hotter as his tongue flicks the shell of your ear, “and m’gonna make you sit here dripping while we walk out of this damn mall.”

you only hum in response, leaning in like you want that. like you want to push him to the edge, right here where anyone could walk past and pull that curtain aside. you kiss him deep and slow, not sweet— completely feral. tongue sliding into his mouth, moaning low as your body rocks harder into his.

he groans into the kiss, fingers digging into your ass now, shifting you just right so your clothed core presses straight into his zipper. “f-fuck, baby,” he gasps, voice barely holding steady. “you’re gonna make me ruin these jeans.”

you tilt your head innocently, lips brushing his cheek now, and whisper like the little minx you are, “so don’t wait.”

and when the third photo snaps, you’re both already too far gone— half-lidded eyes, flushed cheeks, your hips grinding with intention now. anyone walking by would think it’s just a couple being a little too handsy.

but inside that curtain, jisung’s losing it. and you? you’ve never looked more satisfied than when he’s unraveling underneath you.

[ssentimentals]

Hii! Saw your post for the 1.8k! First of all, Congrats!!

Is it possible to make 5 and 7 angsty at first, later fluff? I picture jun or dino for these prompts, you can choose

hii, sweets! thank you so much 💜 i will go with dino on this one, mainly bc i can't imagine jun ever cursing :D thank you for requesting, hope you'll like it!

prompts: 'where the fuck have you been?!' & 'look, all i'm trying to tell you i- oh god, no, please don't cry'

your fingers shake as you take out your phone and the shaking grows worse when you can't turn it on. it dawns on you that it's probably been off for quite some time now and new wave of anxiety comes crashing down. people were probably been calling, god, dino probably called thousand times; why do you never take your charger with you? why do you never check the battery before going out? your heart squeezes uncomfortably in your chest as you stare dumbly at the black phone screen. the main point is to calm down. what did all these tiktokers say? right, regulated nervous system, big breaths, no anxiety. easy to say, impossible to do when your lungs want to collapse at this very same second. the ringing in your ears is so loud, you don't even hear nearing footsteps, nor do you react at your name being shouted four times. only when pair of strong arms grab you by the shoulders and twist you around, only then ringing stops.

'where the fuck have you been?!' dino's shout is loud enough to make you flinch. his eyes are wide and angry, his breathing is erratic like he ran all the way to you. by the sweat on his forehead you realize that he probably did. 'why aren't you answering my calls?!'

it paralyzes you, this anger. rationally you know that dino is mor worried than he is angry, but rationality took a step back when anxiety decided to take the reins. dino practically radiates anger as his gaze sweeps by your body once, twice - checking for any injuries. his mouth is moving, but you can't hear a thing; you close your eyes trying to come back to reality. you focus on dino's hands - warm and gentle despite him being angry, the way they caress your shoulders, how they lovingly hold your wrists. you focus on dino's voice - anger already bled out from it, leaving only worry behind.

'look, all i'm trying to tell you i- oh god, no, please don't cry,' his arms are suddenly on your waist, pulling you close until your face is tucked securely on his neck.

you don't even notice that you started crying - the way tears fill up your eyes is almost surprising. but when you notice it you can't stop; it's like something broke inside of you and all the tension finds it's way out in form of tears. dino holds you through your weeping with an unwavering strength, his grip on you never once went lax. his hands roaming your back gently served like a reminder that he is here, with you. 'it's alright, let it out, i'm sorry, baby, i'm here' whispered in your ear were like soothing balm to your heart.

'good?' he asks, when you calmed down. he places small kiss on top of your head. 'you with me, baby?'

'y-yeah.' you breathe out, but still prefer to hide your face, not looking up. 'i'm sor-'

'no,' he interrupts forcefully, tightening his grip on you. 'don't say it. i am sorry for checking, for not finding you sooner. and sorry for scaring you with my shouting, i was looking for you for hours and your turned off phone really made me-' he pauses, taking a deep breath. 'made me think of- very bad. things. and i'd rather die than let something happen to you, so. i'm sorry baby. i love you, you're feeling better?'

you do and don't at the same time. you're exhausted mentally, but having dino around, hearing dino tell you that he loves you is the best feeling in the world. but you still want to crash out in your bed, preferrably with his arms wrapped around you. 'can we go home?' you ask in a small voice, finally looking up.

the amount of love in dino's eyes makes your heart sing. he looks at you like if you asked for the moon right now, he'd get it. 'of course we can, baby,' he whispers, smiling at you gently. 'of course.'

a/n: wrote this and fell into dino rabbit hole :') hopefully you liked it, let me know! - nini

my other seventeen works are here

request your own here

[returnofeternity]

would you be willing to do post-crash nat w/ a gf who's struggling with an eating disorder? i loveee comfort fics and nat would be very understanding i feel

a/n: hope i did your request some justice! i have binge eating disorder but i feel like i can never write about this sort of stuff because my feelings are blehhhh. and i also know everyone has it different so i hope you can relate at least a little <3 apologies for it being so short bc i wanted to do it but i just couldn't think of anything :/

;

maybe you were there in the wilderness with her, or maybe you developed it (or it got worse) while you thought she was dead for almost a year.

either way, she's there for you like the amazing gf she is. she's so unfortunately the type to remind you to take care of yourself while ignoring her own health :( especially post-crash for sure. both of you struggle with eating, but she tries to. for you. whenever you offer her something, she takes a small nibble just to see you smile even if it makes her nauseous.

think she picks up on it right away. you look different. you feel different, like you're pulling away. you've been skipping meals or making excuses as to why you're not hungry. at first, she understood. she was the same when she got back. she'd go between not eating for days and then binging her old favorites because she was just starving. but it made her feel like trash.

she's there holding you when things get really bad. when days just feel like too much. maybe you overate and feel like you failed, or maybe you just need the comfort of your girlfriend because your mind is overwhelmed with how bad/how much you're eating.

she's there helping you not think about food too much. tries to distract you with her silly jokes or takes you out on walks because you both need the fresh air. she's there taking your phone from your hand if you ever try to compare yourself to some model with millions of followers on instagram, but she never makes you feel like you did wrong.

she never makes you feel bad for your eating disorder. she's very understanding, just tries to instill in your mind that you're perfect the way you are without making it feel like she's trying to lecture you, you know? she doesn't want it to feel like she's disappointed in how you treat your body. she gets it. she gets that it's hard to change your mindset, and she's there with you every step of the way. she's there when you fail, holding you and comforting you when you lash out and yell at her because you feel worthless, and she's with you when you start to make progress.