#word fiend

[wordfiend]

bread

Mmmm... bread.

Aside from bread being one of the best things in the world and a foundation all civilization had been built upon in history, the word itself..?

I dunno, a bit lackluster. Bread can't be stretched out much without sounding unnatural. There's only really one way to say bread. And bread itself is just a one-note, simple word. Granted, this is fine for its purpose. Bread is really humble. It's not grand, not dramatic, simply bread. I'd give it a 5/10 if that was it.

The word 'bread' is simple and uninteresting, awfully one-note. You'd never guess that it represents the foundational food that has since spread across the globe and is foundational involved with culture worldwide.

4/10 word. Nothing wrong with it, I just wish it was better.

Bread itself is 10/10 though. I love bread.

[lowpawly]

my standard for future lesbian media is kinda set by the chainsaw man dyke with four demon girlfriends who she has on screen sex with

[blacklegsanjienthusiast]

how joan of arc felt

[gastlygallows]

Making fun of Elon and celebrating Luigi are two things tumblr and 4chan are united on

I'm feeling a 4chumblr rekindled romance in 2025 mark your Bingo cards

[toxintouch]

Kinktober speedrun time! I actually wasn't using a specific prompt list when I started writing this one so I guess it's filling the spot of the free day on this list I found that came from inside the fandom. Further details below the cut so that the above the cut stays safe for anyone who is just scrolling through!

18+ Content MDNI || Dom!Mhin x Reader

PROMPT/KINK(S): Dom!Mhin, overstimulation + a little brat taming (as a treat) + coming multiple times/just from penetration (which is completely not possible for most people but what are we here for if not to fantasize?)

OTHER INFO: "You" pronouns used for MC/Reader. Unspecified genitalia (for both). Does Mhin have a dick?  Does Mhin have a strap?  Do they have something else going on entirely?  I have kindly allowed you to decide, dear reader.  Reader's situation is similarly vague but they are the receiving partner in penetrative sex.

“This is what you needed the whole time, huh?”  You can't find your voice well enough to answer.  Not that they're expecting you to; you haven't said anything intelligible for the past twenty minutes.

“Acting like a brat all week.  But you start behaving once you get some dick in you.  Not sure why I wasted my time ‘lecturing’ you when you just needed a good fuck.”  You moan out a mindless sound of agreement, arching your back into their thrusts.  You’ll agree to whatever degradation they'd like so long as they don't stop.

Mhin fucks like they hunt.

Lithe and powerful, every movement precise.  Each effortless, wet slide is an equal measure of exquisite and purposeful. They grind into you, rutting against your sweet spot relentlessly until you can't see straight. You cum again, whimpering disjointed praise into the musky sheets.  

They grant you mercy for a beat.  Long enough for you to catch your breath, for legs to stop shaking and the aftershocks to begin to abate. You can feel their keen eyes sweeping over your form, performing a mental check in.

Deciding if you can take more or if they're satisfied with the mess they've made of you, lube and saliva and cum dripping down your thighs.

Then they're fucking into you again, brutally gratifying and searingly, overwhelmingly good.  You try to squirm away, overstimulated, but their hands grip both of your thighs, yanking you back harshly, keeping you speared open for them.  Their chest pushes into your back as they force you into the mattress, using their body weight to gain leverage, fuck you deeper, their hips pressed firmly into your ass.

“You're not going anywhere until I've fucked the reckless behavior out of you.”

You thrash on instinct, the pleasure sharp like a knife edge, too hot and insistent and all consuming to be bearable.  It feels–too good, too much–you can't tolerate it–you can't force yourself to stay still and accept the onslaught even though you want to.  

When Mhin fucks you like this, it’s a punishing grind–they’re not thrusting so much as they are abusing the place inside of you that makes you see stars, sets off a chain reaction of pleasure in your core that you can feel throbbing at the apex of your thighs. Your world threatens to narrow down to just this sensation, the push and pull of ecstasy that Mhin is giving you.  You want to allow it to happen; let your mind empty, let your bitterness and your fight fall away. You both know you need that, and you both know you can't get there without Mhin holding you down.

Mhin wrenches the next orgasm out of you, the pleasure stretching out for long, slow seconds as you lose track of time, lose track of the absolutely lurid noises you're making.  It's a release beyond just the physical. A head rush you can't quite explain. Liquid reverie flowing through your veins. Mhin's touch is comforting as you come down. Gentle, strong hands helping you shuffle out of the wet patch below you, laying you on your back.  Their hands wander, pressing firmly into your strained muscles and mapping your body like you're their new favorite anatomical diagram, idly tracing the unique features of your skin usually hidden by your clothes.

You lean into their touch, humming contently. “You're so sweet like this,” Mhin murmurs, falling lax against you.  They weigh more than you'd expect based off of their slim frame, but it's a comforting weight. You feel soft and pliant with their eyelashes brushing against your cheeks.  They move in to press their lips to yours, coaxing your mouth open for several deep, molasses kisses. 

“...Makes me want a taste.”

Their mouth travels down, pausing at the places they know are the most sensitive before hovering above your sex.

You dig your fingers into the sheets with shaking arms and hold on tight.

A/N: Mhin’s biggest kink is brat taming (via: overstim esp) & I will not accept criticism on this (/lh) mhin gets off on getting other ppl off until they are incoherent. they like the feeling of control. thank u for coming to my ted talk

18+ Master List | SFW Master List ✦Kinktober Speedrun on Ao3

[kaiserouo]

someone please stop him

[blueberry-ink-93]

epilogue

“hey what kind of shampoo do you use?” telemachus looked up from his hastily scribbled shopping list to find a blank faced neoptolemus.

“wuh?” was it really neoptolemus’ fault telemachus asked stupid questions at stupid times.

telemachus rolled his eyes exasperatedly. what was so difficult about his question?

“i said what kind of shit do use for your hair” he gave him a somehow blanker look “im going shopping dumbass.” he waved his tiny inelligable handwritten note for emphasis. neoptolemus only frowned. “i don’t know”.

telemachus would be lying if he said he wasn’t starting to get bored with whatever game neo was playing. he had stuff to do and wasn’t at all in the mood to wait for his royal highness to return from whatever space dimension he was currently in and enlighten him with his products of choice.

“what do you mean you don’t know?” now it was neoptolemus’ turn to be irritated. he was still in his pyjamas, hair a knotted mess, under-eye circles ever prominent, and frown deeply set. he hunched further into himself under telemachus’ scrutinising gaze. it was too early for this. for what exactly? hell if he knew. all neo wanted was to spend the rest of his miserable existence under the covers. why he even got up today was beyond him.

telemachus picked up the shift almost instantly. eyes narrowing and breath held. something wasn’t right. was he hiding something? his stomach dropped. no. they had been over this. no more secrets. no more hurting all alone. was this one of those things that were second nature to him but completely alien to neo? self loathing and guilt bubbled inside him. fuck.

he shuffled ruefully over to where neo was perched on the breakfast bar chair, a knee to his chest and chin in his knee, both arms folded limply around his ankle. how he managed to sit like that on so tiny a seat was frankly a mystery to telemachus. but then again neo was full of surprises he thought drily to himself.

“neo” he said it so softly he almost didn’t even hear himself. neoptolemus stilled. tele ventured to hover a hand where his cheek bone and ear met. neos breathing ceased completely and telemachus followed. waiting for a reply to his unasked question.

letting out a sigh so deep tele thought neo was shrinking before his eyes, he finally got his answer. “i use whatevers in the bathroom.” teles eyebrows reacted faster than the rest of his face, shooting up to his hairline before his tongue found itself.

“but it doesn’t suit your hair type!” he sounded so surprised neo mused. why on earth would he be surprised. did it look like he cared about these trivial matters? hed use dish soap if he could. he did actually that one time and tele had to physically tackle him to snatch the bottle away. a corner of his mouth twitched upwards at the memory. he was banned from the kitchen for a week after that.

still reeling from the potential accidental crossing of boundries and reopening of an old wound (and by extension losing some of their hard earned progress), the cogs in telemachus’s brain whirred faster than they usually did, thinking studying contemplating. praying, repenting, apologising.

“would you mind if I washed your hair? for you I mean”. neoptolemus’ brow furrowed deeper than telemachus thought possible. well now you’ve gone and done it. we just said we mightve stepped over a line what did you go ruin it further for? he deserved to be tied to a pillory and be pelted with rotten tomatoes at the town square.

neo tilted his head upwards slightly and met his gaze. his olive green eyes asked and answered and laughed and cried and mocked and praised. were his own eyes fooling him or were those tears welling in the corners of his eyes? whatever strings still left in telemachus’ heart snapped. scratch that he deserved to be hung drawn and quartered. and thrown to wolves for good measure.

neo's gaze burned holes in his skull. he wanted to look away and wallow in his shame but he didn’t. after a long searing silence, neo finally asked, voice steady and eyes anything but. “is. is it something people do?” there was something left of his question. telemachus waited. shopping and deadlines and life itself be damned nothing mattered more than this. he had all the time in the world for neo. and if he didn’t have it he would create it. rip it from the fabric of space itself if he had to. it was truly the least he could do. the least neo deserved after everything.

“is it something… people do?” he repeated. Telemachus knew then that was the best he could manage. he understood, more than neo thought he did. more than he himself thought he did. his hand was slightly more confident now, tucking a limp wave of hair behind neos ear, tracing the path all the way to his jaw. cradling his face, he whispered.

“it can be yeah. doesn’t have to mean anything though I guess.” neos eyes chased telemachus' own but he avoided them, instead opting to study the freckles on neo's nose.”I thought it might be a nice change for you”. he said it so quietly. maybe if he was small enough it would cancel out whatever hurt he mightve caused. would he respond? what if he didn’t? would he ignore him? would a rift now grow between them? did he lose yet another a loved one to his stupidity? would the sting of his failures ever leave him? he finally dared to meet neos gaze.

“i would like that. I think”

telemachus managed a small smile.

--

leaning on the handle of the trolley and feet mostly off the ground, telemachus floated between the aisles, stopping only to redirect it and avoid colliding into the barriers. he eventually stood up properly having reached the hair care section. telemachus’ lips pressed into a thin line as he realised neo actually had a great point. there were a million kinds and colours and the dread was starting to settle. suddenly the easiest task in the world was bordering the overwhelming.

don’t be stupid its literally just shampoo. get over yourself. the little voice in his head never missed a beat. 'can we be a little nicer next time?' he asked himself, a hint of frustration lacing his internal stream of thoughts. absolutely not. he scowled. oh and also youre ugly and no one loves you. telemachus deadpanned. 'why thank you. any more gems for me?'. the disembodied voice grinned wickedly and telemachus instantly regretted asking. the last thing he needed was for his mind to casually drop the most devastating disturbing discombobulating truths on his still weeping sores.

he cleared his throat so violently to block out his own thoughts a nearby employee hurried over, probably thinking he was choking. he felt instantly guilty for making them worry. especially since he may or may not have overdone it; giving himself an actual coughing fit in public wasn’t his idea of fun. you think? came the cool remark. telemachus rolled his eyes at himself. He was very over this conversation.

a quick scan of the shelves for products specifically labeled curly (he had only ever seen neos real hair in a picture from primary. he looked adorable with several missing teeth) gave him a place to start. sighing, he picked up the first of quite limited options available. still better than nothing he supposed. at least its not dish soap, the voice quipped. telemachus smirked in agreement.

--

telemachus, seasoned overthinker that he was, tended to overlook certain aspects of his schemes. he practiced and he rehearsed, yet there was always something missing, even when he was quite certain he'd taken every last thing into account.

no sooner than he had turned the key he realised he had no idea what to expect. he hadnt thought this far, he hadnt prepared an internal script to practice, or at least go over every potential scenario with, he definately didnt walk the entire way home thinking about the frog documentary he and neo watched last night.

neo.

would he be asleep? awake? willing? or rather still willing to go through with their quiet promise this morning. had he eaten? was he alright? did he still love him? had he ever loved him? they never exchanged the infamous words but they both knew it. In their heart of hearts. right?

tele turned the key a second time and opened the door. prolonged pin drop silence never bothered either of them, but what with his current stream of unwarranted worries tele's stomach sank. was he upset with him? he remembered neos tears this morning and nearly felt like walking outside and throwing up in their recently acquired praying lily's plant pot

he pulled himself together and put his best foot forward (and nearly tripped in typical tele fashion). mumbling a little hello to nobody in particular.

the living room was 2 steps away from the door, open to their little kitchen gaving it the illusion of a bigger space. the light that poured from the windows certainly aided in that. it was nice and cosy and perfect. what was more it was home. and it was theirs.

after emptying the shopping bags and putting mostly everything away, he was only left with a pair of pokemon toothbrushes (listen they were on sale. no other reason) and the shampoo he brought that had to go to the bathroom. The bathroom with the bathtub. where neo probably was. their bathrooms bathtub.

tele had no idea why he was dreading whatever was to come. except he was lying, he knew exactly what was bothering him but it didnt resolve anything, much less untie the knots in his stomach. he cursed his stupid brain for ditching him for tadpoles.

the bathroom door was open a fraction. thats new. "neo?" a gentle rap of his knuckles on the white door of a wood his dad would probably know the name of echoed in the bathroom. silence

too quiet? maybe another one for good measure. tele raised his hand a second time when he heard a very faint hum. a question? ah.

"neo?" silence again. "can i come in?" another hum, firmer this time, an answer. he opened the door softly so that it wouldnt creak (to be added to the list of things to do before theyre old and grey) and disrupt the suffocating silence.

he was briefly surprised to find neo facing him in the bathtub, back to the taps, knees drawn to his chest, arms folded on the edge and head resting on his shoulder. his eyes were closed, and if it werent for his hums just now hedve thought he was asleep.

It did make sense actually, having his back to the water made it easier to wash. clever. though uncomfortable probably. he hummed again urging him to get over with. hes not talking.

he had the entire (debatable) thing planned out but it all went flying out the window. rather he threw it out the window to make room for a new wave of questions. what if he didnt fancy listening to him yap endlessly about whatever was on his mind? should he still narrate? would the noise bother him? should he ask or would it backfire?

neoptolemus opened an eye and telemachus instantly felt like following his plans suit out of the window. he was looking for reasons to feel guilty at this point and it was starting to get ridiculous. he was aware of the absurdity of his thoughts sometimes but his guts wouldnt budge.

neo bless his heart probably prepared more than his dumbass did (tele mentally winced at his own delicate choice of words) and gave him a fierce look that nearly stopped telemachus' heart. because everyone knows the best way to distract someone from downward spiralling into oblivion was to give them a cardiac arrest. first aid 101.

hed be lying if he said it wasnt extremely effective.

telemachus let the tension leave his shoulders and the air out of his lungs when he sighed in defeat. It would never not baffle him how much stress his muscles held and just how different his entire being felt after letting go. he felt like a wet newspaper. oh what he wouldnt give to lie down on the cool tile floor and pass away already. "uh, radio on or off?" cha cha real smooth.

neo snorted and tele allowed himself a victory smirk. "any requests?"

"just shut up" tele couldnt help but grin.

"sir yes sir". eyes closed again, neo missed the mock salute. he probably would have ignored him anyway. to anyone else his reply would seem harsh and rude, but telemachus knew better. neo knew how tele sometimes drowned under the currents of his own thoughts and doubts. he had stressed enough already. he needed to start telling his brain to shut up more when it went on hypothetical tangents of tangents.

tele opened the window and let some of the warmth inside but kept the door slightly open so the echo-iness didnt grate on their ears. the water ran and broke the now comfortable silence that threatened to lull them both to sleep. he sat on the cool tiled floor, a hip against the tub and legs folded by his side, and got to work.

tele was clumsily careful with the water, making sure the roots had drank enough before continuing with the length of neos hair. at one point he fixed the shower head in place and used a wide toothed comb to loosely section the hair. then came the sweet smelling stuff.

hed picked purely based on what hed thought (hoped) neo would like the most, possibly sacrificing the better option for his hair type. which in his defence was wasnt easy to tell, since part of the damage reflected on how it looked. hm. hypocrite. he tossed his head aside as if to knock over the last thought and busied himself with massaging the paradisical coconut into his scalp. It smelled like a dream, and if neos discreet sniffs and soft sigh were anything to go by he seemed to approve of his choice. tele was feeling quite proud of himself.

now all he had to do was make sure neo never attempted to eat the shampoo.

at long last, and after the final rinse they were done. tele stood up and stretched his legs and let out a heaving sigh. the kind that came after a job well done. he could only hope neo felt as peaceful as he did. and with less back pain. hands stretching above his head he looked over his shoulder back to neo to admire his handiwork.

he looked like hed actually fallen asleep this time. like a little cat curled up in the sink. with a little smile telemachus quietly put everything away and made sure to leave a towels and clothes within his arms reach. slightly closing the door on his way out tele wondered if he did actually sleep. should he check? and risk disturbing his rest? well since the alternative was literally catching pneumonia, he countered, id try my luck convincing neo to rest in bed at least. but how?

walking back in, hands on his hips and mind absent in thought, telemachus flinched when neo suddenly broke the silence. “quit your staring.”

once again his facial expressions beat his usually quick tongue in reaction. “I was not.” he insisted feebly, neck warming up at the scandalous accusation. he really wasn’t, but how like neo to make everything about himself. sometimes telemachus sort of wished his thoughts could be heard, or at least shared between them, so that neo could hear the fond exasperation in his voice whenever he spoke about him.

neo snorted and tele threw a towel on his head in retaliation since he wouldn’t see his stuck out tongue, and closed the door behind him with a soft click. he had far better things to do than spend another second with his idiot.

‘your?’ he allowed himself another small smile as the warmth of his neck reached his ears. mine, he promised.

[zootzbootz]

here's a fun silly post. a list of (almost) all of our like- fandoms and shit 😋😋 if ur also in any of these- (ESP the more obscure ones) pls pls talk to us teeheheheheeee

- the mark side

- lalaloopsy

- starters (movieunleashers)

- fundamental paper education

- dude where's my juul

- smiling friends

- welcome to the statehouse/table

- hetalia (kinda. I LITERALLY JUST LIKE THE CHARACTERS 😭😭😭)

- ok ko

- south park

- mlp

- lost ollie

- dick figures (I hate to admit this LMFAO)

- animal crossing

- miitopia

- animatic battle

- making fiends

- monster high (esp the new gen 😞)

- word girl

- avenue q

- run (the coolmathgame)

- pinky and pepper forever

and there's probably more but I'm too lazy to list them or can't rember rn 😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞

[legolasghosty]

'Pets/animals cuddling up close because they can sense their person isn't feeling well' OBVIOUSLY I need some Caleb & Demonkitty from the hockey au

Caleb winces against the building migraine. He'd woken up tired and the day hasn't improved. The fire alarm, the sponsor complaint, the season schedule review, and he's spilled multiple cups of coffee on himself in the last 12 hours.

He stares blankly at the email before him. The pounding in his skull blurs the words on the screen.

Mrow?

Caleb looks up just as Fiend leaps onto his desk. The black cat struts across the keyboard, shoving her head at his hands until he gives in. She crawls onto his lap. His computer goes to sleep. Emails aren't going anywhere.

[wordfiend]

Kaboom

KABOOM!

Good onomatopoeia. Fun and satisfying. Kaboom. Not much else to say; pretty cut and dry. Good word.

8/10 word.

[kyomu-kyomu-translations]

Radio Wave Girl Lemon cut-ins

Intro

RADIO WAVE GIRL LEMON: They're coming, meow... FIEND HAJIKAMI: Lemon? ...What's with that look? LEMON: A great power is coming here soon, hop. LEMON: Whaaat? That sounds scary, meowww. LEMON: That power is seeking me, hop. HAJIKAMI: ...Is this some kind of game? LEMON: Eeeek! Stop that, meow! LEMON: And... at this rate, you two will be killed, hop. HAJIKAMI: Huh? LEMON: That's mean, so mean! Why would they do that, meow? LEMON: Then eventually we'll all be killed, hop. LEMON: No, no, meow! We'll all do something about it together, meow! HAJIKAMI: That's right. Like we'll let 'em do that! We'll protect you. We'll fight! LEMON: We... don't have the power to do that right now, hop. LEMON: Or rather, the capability, meow. It's a disa-paw-intment, though. LEMON: That's why I closed off my power, hop. HAJIKAMI: !? LEMON: So that they can't use me, meow. LEMON: But, hop. One who can defeat that great power will appear, hop. LEMON: You'll know who it is when you see them... is what I think, meow. LEMON: But you won't know until you meet them, hop. LEMON: And you won't kneow when until then. HAJIKAMI: Don't you underestimate us! We'll show them what we can do! LEMON: No... There's no time left. They've arrived already, hop. LEMON: Hurry, hurry, meow! HAJIKAMI: Lemon??? Could it be you're--!?

Player Victory

LEMON: EX... Forbidden Repatriation Technique... DEMON KING SMIRNOFF: Where did you send those two? LEMON: I told them I don't need them, hop. SMIRNOFF: ......... SMIRNOFF: ...Hehehehe. ...Hahahahahaha! LEMON: What are your intentions, meow? SMIRNOFF: How interesting. I'll tell you. I'm gathering birch firewood. SMIRNOFF: However, they cannot be as simple as being good enough to burn. They must be special firewood that burns beautifully. SMIRNOFF: I will throw them onto a fire and build a special pechka. There will be flames of the sacred and the profane. SMIRNOFF: Delightful pechka, burn, o pechka. SMIRNOFF: I will gather men, warm them, intoxicate them, madden them, make them dance, let them live... then kill them. SMIRNOFF: Then there will be roaring flames, piles of birch firewood stacked high... and only me! SMIRNOFF: ...Hahahaha ...Ahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!! SMIRNOFF: Burn beautifully for me!! SMIRNOFF: Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!

Player Loss (1:25)

LEMON: EX... Forbidden Repatriation Technique... TRACKER CARMEL: !? LEMON: Please, find them. And then raise them and guide them... It's a promise... CARMEL: Tch... Shit!

[sweetevoltrap]

Sylus saying MC is the most dangerous thing around with even him present- and I thought that was essentially a flirty comment that she controls even him... but no...

[risk-of-rain-nerd]

void fiend still makes me sick. i HAVE to write a fic about this guy.

[toxintouch]

Absinthe & Sugar:

"They" pronouns used for MC, Unspecified background, no gendered language or descriptors used. WARNINGS: MDNI. Suggestive content/non-explicit smut (very little description used). MC is specified to be the receiving partner (penetration) for a round. Exact relationship dynamic is left heavily to interpretation but I'd say skip if you are sensitive to toxicity. ✦Read on Ao3.

The only difference between Leander and the Senobium is the uniforms, Vere said.

The sex isn't quite the way they intended.  Leander is eager, desperate and overly affectionate.  It rattles them, incongruent with the playboy image of a man they thought they were inviting into their bed; the casual escapade they were inclined towards doesn’t seem to be what they received.

They try to exert control—they do exert control, though it feels like a hollow facsimile at best.  He accommodates their whims, accepts and welcomes their harsh treatment even as they dig their cursed nails into his flesh, press bites against his lips when he seeks their kiss.  His eyes never seem to leave theirs, even as they parry and avoid every intimate gesture he offers them.  Their first fuck is rough—a relief—absolution and damnation in equal measure.

They’re high on adrenaline for the second, nerves singing as he sears worshipful kisses against their golden fissures, laces their fingers together with his, murmurs nonsense.

They lose count of the rest.  Their mind is lost in the heat and the sweat, the green haze they wish they could blame on liquor.  It’s a dream—feeling someone so completely, without any of their usual visceral fear.  But it’s a nightmare.  The way they tip their head back to hold back their tears and end up showing their throat, the way they swallow his whispered promises.

Leander doesn’t behave decently.  Doesn’t escort himself out afterwards.  He spends all night crowding them in bed, arms encircling them, his heavy weight trapping them against his chest.  They shove at him, weak and ineffectual, exhausted from the night's activities.  While their eyes droop, fluttering closed against their will, his stare is vibrant, an affectionate smile upon his still-wet lips.  As they drift off they feel the press of his mouth against their temple.  They tell themselves they hate it, lips too numbed with impending sleep to protest aloud.

They mean to rebuke him when they wake.  Deride his terrible etiquette as a one night stand.  Tell him he smothered them with his body heat and hogged the blanket, contradictions be damned.  They spend a long moment internally repeating what they’ll say—studying his sleeping face, the stress he carries during waking hours so obvious now that they see him not bearing the burden.  The moment slips away when he opens his eyes, words momentarily caught in their throat as they admire the color of them, as they listen to his easy pillow talk.  The curve of his smile, the crinkle of his eyes at their stilted responses.  His warm embrace.

He holds them all night only to get on his knees for them in the morning.

The pleasure is so intense, they feel like they’re about to lose their own mind.

They dig their nails into his back when he fucks them, snapping his hips in a rhythm that steals their breath away.  They hold him with the same fervor he held them.  (As if that might be the tipping point—their last ditch effort—they’ve scared away anyone they’ve ever wanted just by wanting—)

And he says it; into their ear: “I love you.”  And his voice is wrecked but he still manages to make it sound like a prison sentence.  “I love you.  I have you, I have you, you can—”

They score a punishing red line down his scarred bicep with one cursed hand, gripping his hair with the other to wrench him away, to make him look them in the face.  He groans low in his chest, eyelashes fluttering—a true masochist—but his gaze meets their own with intent.  He pauses, pulses inside of them but doesn’t come.

“Maybe I have you.”  They spit viciously, though they don’t think they do.

He’s immune to their poisonous tone like he’s immune to their curse.

But they’re weak to whatever he is.  To his soft retaliation.

They try to tug their hands away from his reaching grasp, but he doesn’t even acknowledge their resistance.  He laces his fingers with theirs, saccharine sweet, pressing the backs of their palms into the mattress.

“I’m glad,” he says tenderly.  Affectionate like he has the right, like he’s anything more or less than the worst decision they’ve ever made.  “I want to be yours.”

His absinthe green eyes seem to peer right through them.  

“And you're mine, too…aren't you…?”

The only difference between Leander and the Senobium is the uniforms.

They wonder at the fact that they listened to Vere, believed him wholeheartedly, and still did this.

[starmocha]

This looks like he butt-dialed me 😔✋️

[determunition]

heyyy, it's still technically the holiday season! hope that all who celebrate had a merry christmas yesterday ^^

have a collection of illustrations and sketches, some new and some old, based off of @naturallydark's iconic retyrement au fic have a holly jolly cardmas! i will shill for this thing nonstop, it's not canon to OLD_FOLKS HOME (in fact it's kind of an AU of an AU) but it's wonderfully written; the characterization is on point for everyone and it's good holiday fluff! if you're finding yourself craving more retyrement au while you're waiting for me to upload the next OFH chapter this fic is the most delicious of meals

the first illustration here is a scene from chapter 10, one of my favorites in the fic, and the second is from chapter 7, another one of my faves (i might have quite a few of those lmao); and the lil sketchdumps at the bottom are my little musings upon reading the first couple chapters! i think wiz's introduction is probably one of the funniest in the fic haha, and the fic descriptions are on point in this fic so i had a lot of fun visualizing what characters were wearing