luismartinezrecobeni-blog

[ineedtherapist]

Will Zeppeli s/o piece about him serving breakfast in bed? Can be headcanons or oneshot

ANON I LOVE YOUUU ｡⁠:ﾟ⁠(⁠;⁠´⁠∩⁠`⁠;⁠)ﾟ⁠:⁠｡

As PB & BT loyal enthusiast I am using my absolute cruel & despicable power to skip all the other request so I can indulge myself in this most fluffy heartwarming masterpiece of an ask to ever exist

I WANNA MAKE A ONESHOT BUT I DON'T HAVE THE CAPABILITY TO DO IT *CRY

Will A. Zeppeli serving breakfast for his s/o hcs and drabbles

He's the type that cook on his free time as both hobby and a need. It doesn't matter if he's a guy. It's one of those things that give him a sense of normalcy, that he's still living and he's still a human amidst all the craziness and seemingly hopeless life fighting his cruel fate. There are also times when he missed family and home so cooking is the only way for William to keep them close to him.

That being said, his favourite meal time is breakfast and dinner. There's just something undescribable about the first meal at the fresh start of the day and the last meal to commemorate another day of heartfelt life and ofc well- survival.

He's also a fairly romantic person, carrying the zeppeli gene down to the core. Sure, for some people, bringing your s/o breakfast in bed is not something to be proud of, a routine even. But not for him. Cooking, breakfast and his s/o. Three of his most precious things in life together? What could be more lovely?

It's a bright and cool Saturday morning. The wind felt just nice and the sun wasn't too hot, perfect for a longer sleeping sessions. At least until the realization William wasn't beside you sink in. His side of the bed is cold meaning he's been out of it for quite some time.

'Maybe he's out training with those two..?'

The thought sounds more like a question than a statement.

'But it's Saturday and he says it himself he's staying in today.'

'Should I search for him..?'

Weighing all the options, you finally sigh. Your heart felt heavy and the day didn't felt so bright

or cool

or Saturday

anymore. Muffling your face into the pillow, your mouth started to hum a slow and comforting tune, your favourite tune, to soothe the uneasy feeling growing insides you.

To be frank, this is not something abnormal. It's just how your life usually went but that didn't mean the same anxious feeling you felt everyday actually subsided. The thought that one day you'll wake up alone forever without a trace of him which can happen at any moments given the nature of his job, frightened you.

'I hate this.'

Another sigh almost escaped from your lips yet was interrupted by a sudden knock on both you and William shared bedroom door. Looking up from the pillow, a small smile escaped your lips when you see the blackbrown haired man make his entrance.

"Morning bambola, how're you feeling?"

You didn't answer his questions instead beckon him to come closer in which he did. Taking both side of his face, you kiss his forehead lingering there longer than usual. William noticed the sudden gestures but didn't say anything instead reciprocate it with another kiss under your right eye.

'What's that?'

Your eyes settling on a medium sized tray in his hands, covered by a metal lid.

Grinning he put the tray in front of you and sit at the edge of the bed.

'A present, for my n only one'

Curious, you opened the tray to found almost all of your favourite breakfast menu dished out beautifully signalling all the effect the older man had put for you. You feel you're about to cry but instead you sit on the bed properly this time and reach out for him in which he again, gladly comply to.

'Thank you, it's beautiful amore.'

'Anything for you dearest.'

[vincent-sinclair-deserved-better]

hm

thinking of my blorbos but not in a "i love you you love me all is well" way but a "i love you hope you kill me" way lol

[thewintersoldatt]

SORRY, NOT SORRY -RAFE CAMERON

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!listener

Summary: Rafe can be a “good” boyfriend when he wants to be… with a sprinkle of manipulation of course.

Warnings: Naughty language, Fluff low-key from our toxic daddy, ft. JJ being a chaotic mess.

notes: This audio is set during 1x05. Instead of it being midsummer's, it's the listeners birthday! I've been working on this all week and I'm tired of listening to it on repeat, so if something doesn't add up, it's because I got lazy. And I wish Rafe told me he loved me. 😭

word count: Its audio, my panties are wet and so are yours.

Scene one

JJ: Ah, would you look at this! It's our birthday girl!

You: What are you doing here?

Our cutie patootie rambles on then walks off with the security guard.

During this pause count to about 6 or 7.

You: What the hell did you guys do to his face?

Rafe: We didn't do anything… his face was like that when he…showed up.

You: Well, why did you guys corner him in here?

Rafe: We were just making sure... he knew his place. And that he's not allowed here. If anything, we were doing you and your parents a favor, I mean, god knows what he already took.

You: You promised me you wouldn’t start anything tonight, Rafe.

Rafe: Can you give us a minute? I'd like to talk to my girlfriend... alone, so get out. Alright, um, can I speak first since you wanna do this right now?

You: Go ahead.

Rafe: How long have you lived here?

You: I was born here.

Rafe: Yes you were born here, but where - where did you grow up?

You: Figure 8.

Rafe: Yes, you grew up on Figure 8. And where did... our pal JJ grow up?

You: The cut.

Rafe: The Cut. and that's exactly my point, baby. We're kooks. And... what is JJ again?

You: Jesus, Rafe don't start-

Rafe: Come on, you wanna talk, let’s talk. What about communication? Isn’t that what we're supposed to be working on?

Count to 3 during this pause.

You: He’s a pouge.

Rafe: See that wasn't so hard, now was it? Now, let me make something clear, and stop me if you get a little confused - you and me. We’re practically royalty on this island. We’re together for a reason. And before you saying, yes I do love you. I always have and I always will. You’re mine. You’re it for me, sweetheart. And… you’re a kook. So, start acting like one before I do something about it, mkay?

You: God, you’re a dick you know that? How about you leave too.

Rafe: Ugh, look I’m sorry, alright? It’s just… it’s just when I saw him on the patio talking to Sarah I lost it. This is supposed to be your day and I didn’t want him ruining it. Kind of like when… uh… we switched out the coke with flour and gave it to Top because he ate your cupcakes.

You: And how is that relevant to this?

Rafe: It’s sorta the same thing. You - you worked hard on those. Uh, he ate them. I was pissed because they were for me. And you were upset because I wanted to punch him in the throat. Tomato, tomahto. Blah, blah, blah. See you’re smiling, I love it when you smile.

You: You’re such a sap.

Rafe: I love you.

You: I love you too.

Rafe: And again, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause a scene, I just didn’t know how else to get him to leave. You know how JJ and his friends are. All of them are drawn to us like a moth to a flame. Now, uh, can we put this behind us and get back to the party?

You: Thats the smartest thing that’s come out of your fat mouth all night, baby.

Rafe: By the way, I really do think he took something from your bedroom.

You: What?

Rafe: I saw him come down from the hallway, unless he took something from your dad’s office?

You: You’re serious?

Rafe: As a heart attack.

You: But… I’ve never done anything to him.

Rafe: That’s what they do though. You should know this by now. They butter you up, just to take whatever they can right from under our noses. It’s sick, if I’m being honest.

You: So much for trying to be civil.

Rafe: I know, yeah, I’ll talk to your dad, and um, see what we can do. But for now, let’s go celebrate. It’s not everyday someone turns 17.

@rafesapologist @rvfecamerons @sadfury @rafesthroatbaby @rafesaddiction @hockeybabe87 @rafeinterlude @starkeyisthelastname @secretly-tumb1r @kingkylie444 @stayonmars @maybankswhore @barbiiecams @princessmisery666 @ilovebarrykeoghan

If you would like to be tagged, I gotchu sis.

[yesimwriting]

what have felix and lovie been up tooooo

considering i recently got back from my first ever trip to england they are extra alive and well !!! this would have been up sooner but i stopped to take a small break and fell asleep for awhile 😭

----

The hazy feeling swirling through your body has made the rest of the world feel like mush. It'd take a strength you can't quite grasp to not lean into the sensation, so you let it take over.

Your eyes fall shut. You give yourself a beat to enjoy the feeling before lifting a hand to wipe at your face.

The world seems to shift. Something soft brushes against the side of your face. The feeling is so gentle it borders on intangible. "Y'okay?"

Felix's breath is warm against your ear, as gentle and fleeting as the sound of his voice. You shift back just enough to really look at Felix. He's staring at you, eyebrows pinched together slightly. "Yeah," you tell him, "Just a little tired."

He watches you for a long second, taking his time reading your features. "You're high."

The corner of Felix's mouth pulls upwards, a lazy smile that only adds to your haziness. It's hard to not reflect his joy. You can feel the grin tugging at your lips. "Not that high."

Felix shifts, not exactly straightening or leaning away from you, but he does lift his chin slightly. You watch him curiously, unaware of much until you feel his touch against your chin. His fingers curl beneath your jaw, thumb pressing against your chin.

The warmth of his touch is so consuming you can't bring yourself to wonder what he's doing. You're too distracted by the sensation to even react to Felix tilting your head. Sometimes you wish you could melt into him.

"Should never let you do anything with Farleigh." Felix's voice remains too light for the comment to feel truly passive aggressive, but there's a hint of something else there. You're too drowsy to guess at it.

Smoking with Farleigh while in Felix's room with several of his friends is hardly the most outrageous thing you've ever done. Felix was busy entertaining his other friends, so when Farleigh offered, you had been bored enough to accept. Besides, the joint had been passed around to over half the people in the room, and those that hadn't smoked had been too drunk to do so.

"I don't know," you mumble, "I don't think he's that bad."

Felix sighs, his breath warm as it the side of your face. "You complimenting Farleigh?" His hand slips away from your chin and onto your shoulder. "I've lost you, Lovie."

You shake your head once, fighting down a grin. "You're very melodramatic today."

He's closer than he needs to be, and you're terribly glad for it. Felix is always pretty, but now you can make out the little details. The golden flecks of color tinging the dark brown of his irises, the length of his eyelashes, the light splattering of freckles spread out across his cheeks and nose.

The corner of his mouth tilts upwards, a small dimple etching itself into his cheek. "You bring it out in me."

You're sure that the perfect, lighthearted response is patiently waiting for you to stumble onto it. Your lips part, but no words come. Anything logical feels far, like it belongs to some other version of yourself that's currently away.

"Are you tired?" The question is so genuine, an honest answer almost tumbles out. Sure, you're feeling a little more out of it than you thought you would, but you don't want to bring down the mood. You press your lips together and shake your head. "Really?"

You nod, keeping your expression as neutral and put together as possible. "I'm okay."

His eyebrows pinch together. "You want to lay down?" Felix straightens, setting his hands against the mattress. "For a little?"

While you have nothing against taking a nap in Felix's bed, the two of you aren't alone. There are people everywhere, leaning against Felix's desk and sitting on the floor. There's even a girl sitting on the other side of Felix, on the same bed he's telling you to lie down on.

"It's okay." You sit up a little straighter in an attempt to seem more awake. "I don't want to bother anyone."

Felix leans back a little more, his weight settling on his forearms. "No one will care."

No one will care if he lies down on someone's lap randomly. The thought almost slips out before you can stop it. Maybe you should lay down for a little. You nod, "Okay."

Felix places a hand on your arm, keeping you steady as you move to lay down. You set your head on his lap. Felix drags his knuckles against your arm, back and forth with a consistency that settles you.

You're in a place between asleep and awake when you hear someone mention some club opening in the city. Mira, the other girl on the bed gasps. "We should go--we should totally go." There's a beat of silence, and then she asks, "Felix?"

"Hm..." He hums, his hand never stalling on your arm. The last thing you can make out is someone repeating the question.

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny @lilyrachelcassidy @khxna @imbabycowboy

[feyhunter78]

ms girl I'm begging you to be added to you tag list for the jon snow fic cause I can't keep maniacally scrolling every 2 days this is very very serious.

thank you.

I'll add you to the taglist, but I also thought I'd reward your patience with a little chapter delivery!

Chapter Seventeen - Within the war camp of the Starks and Tullys you find yourself facing your family in different ways. CH 18

You try not to laugh as you watch Margaery smooth down her skirts, Robb’s tunic laces strung back up incorrectly, hanging uneven as he addresses his men.

“Tyrion Lannister has responded quickly, as we expected, considering we have his children and grandchildren.” Robb says, letting your grandsire’s letter be passed around among his bannermen. “He will meet us in the fields outside Bitterbridge and asks that we list our demands so that he might decide if they are worth considering.”

“Does he truly believe he has any leverage? My entire family is here.” You whisper to Jon, feeling a pang of guilt for not immediately inquiring after the health of your family. You have been so preoccupied with Jon, with sticking to him in order to avoid the harsh stares, the whispers that circulated throughout the camp. True you may have Jon’s heart, and Robb liked you well enough but their men? They did not trust you; you remained a lion at the side of a wolf, and it will serve you well to remember that.

“You know your grandsire; he will not give in so easily.” Jon whispers back, his eyes on Robb.

Robb continues, his voice gaining in volume, in confidence. “We know our terms men, the throne for Stannis Baratheon, more bodies for the wall, the annulment of Queen Margaery’s marriage—”

“And enough Redwyne wine to last us through the winter.” Theon chimes in from his place behind Robb, a tongue-in-cheek smile on his face, his eyes bright with mirth.

“Aye, enough drink to warm us while it snows.” A Northman you do not recognize says.

“And perhaps some pretty Southron wives too.” Someone else calls, as laughter begins to roll through the crowd.

Margaery laughs, and it sounds like bells, clear and pure, all eyes shift to her. “While I cannot speak for every woman of the south… I can say that I have found myself quite content with my Northman, and I am sure many others will feel the same once they are rescued from their soft willed and greedy husbands.”

A cheer rises at her words, and you find yourself biting your tongue to keep from laughing once more. Only Margaery can make possible bride kidnapping sound like a heroic deed. Though you guess you cannot blame her, nor would you blame any women that left the South for the North. If you were married to one of those lazy, greedy lords who spent all day chasing after servant girls and squandering away his gold, you would rush into the arms of the nearest Northman as well.

Even though Robb had dismissed everyone hours ago, their cheers still ring faintly in your ears as you walk towards the constructed cells that held your aunt and uncle. They were less cells but cages, bars of iron stuck into the ground, a metal sheet hammered atop for a roof. You had not wanted your aunt and uncle put in these things. They were people, not animals, but you know your presence in the camp is still a precarious one. You are still a Lannister, still an enemy of the North, and your voice is not one they wish to hear.

Tommen and your father have been put in a tent, of course. Your father had helped organize this entire plan and no one truly thought Tommen would run, he was still a boy, but your aunt and uncle? Perhaps your aunt would not run if she were alone, but with your Uncle Jamie by her side? Anything was possible.

Your aunt and uncle look up when they hear your footsteps, both dirtied and tired, the smell of smoke clinging to them.

Your aunt’s eyes are wildfire, the heat directed at you, while your uncle’s eyes are dull swamp water, and downcast. “How could you do this to us?” She spits, rising to her feet when you approach.

“I did not, I had no idea, you must voice your complaints to my father.” You tell her, handing her and your uncle bowls of oatmeal.

Your uncle takes it quietly, giving you a nod of thanks, but your aunt slaps it from your hands, the mushy oats splattering across the ground and the hem of your gown. “Tell your snake of a father I will not be given gruel and locked up as if I were a common criminal. I am the Dowager Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“I will tell him, but I cannot promise much, he is sitting on Lord Robb’s war council at the moment, preparing for Grandsire’s arrival.” You say airily, trying not to look at your uncle, trying not to see the defeat and acceptance in his eyes.

“War council? That boy truly thinks he will defeat our father? You disappoint me, niece; you have squandered my lessons.” Your aunt says, her arms crossed over her chest, her head held high, even in a cage she still looks every inch a queen. “Pray to the Seven that your grandsire will be merciful and send you off to become a septa instead of taking your head.”

“Cersei…” Your uncle says quietly, leaning his head back against the bars of his cage.

“I will pray that King Stannis grants you mercy.” You tell her, collecting the bowl and spoon from the ground before turning on your heel, a mountain of guilt ever-growing in your heart.

As you walk back to the kitchen tent you spot Ser Arthur, he is polishing his sword, his eyes drifting in the direction of the cells every so often.

“My uncle spoke very highly of you.” You say once you get closer. You do not know what he had said to your uncle that day he claimed Jon in court, but it had struck him to his core. “He wished to be you, to live up to the standard you set.”

“I know.” Ser Arthur says softly, a frown etched into his weathered face, his hand stilling in its task. “I told him the truth, the whole of it, and in return he told me why he had done it, of the wildfire beneath the city. I have told Lord Robb; he will write to King Stannis and inform him of the danger.”

You are still holding your aunt’s rejected bowl, your grip on it tightening at his words. Your uncle had only once told you the story, you were young, and he was deep in his cups, the words spilling out like water. You wanted to tell everyone of his brave actions, to erase the title Kingslayer from his name, but he forbid you, said it did not matter now.

“He is better than me, surpassed the standard I set, he had always been rebellious, or we thought him rebellious. We did not see it was a conscious he possesses not a nasty streak of near insubordination.” Ser Arthur sighs.

“He hated it, standing guard while two kings raped their queens, it would have been three if Joffrey had lived, I do not know if he could have survived three.” You admit quietly, scanning your surroundings.

It is early morning, the sun still rising, the birds still waking, the breeze slightly cool but ever warming. There is dew on the grass, and in the quiet stillness you look at Ser Arthur. He is soon to be your good-father, you have grown up hearing tales of his greatness, but in this moment he is nothing but the man who failed your uncle. The man followed his oath to a mad prince so blindly he could not see the bodies left in his wake, and could not muster the courage to flee, to take Lady Lyanna somewhere safe. You know he is Jon’s father, that his acknowledgement of Jon, his affection for him has made your sworn sword happy beyond words, but you would trade Ser Arthur for your uncle in a heartbeat. Your Uncle Jaime is a good man, he saved millions. Defended you, protected you, even now as he sits in a cage, he has not lost his honor, has not spat cruel words at you for your part in this scheme.

“My uncle is a good man; he does not deserve to die.” You whisper, hoping the wind will take your words before anyone else hears them.

Ser Arthur stares at his sword, his eyes reflected in the metal. “I will ask the king to send him to The Wall, I cannot see Ser Jaime lose his head, not when he saved the whole of King’s Landing. I trained that boy, he was five and ten when he came to us, I watched him become a man with great honor, I know he has been tainted, manipulated by your aunt, but he is not beyond saving.” He says, beginning to polish his sword once more.

You nod, but do not let your hopes rise.

Your father and cousin sit playing cyvasse in your father’s tent, the entrance watched by two Stark guards, who give you a cautious look but allow you entry. Your father’s tent is large, not as large as Robb’s but more than enough for him and Tommen. Furs are laid out on two cots pushed in the far corner, a small table and a few chairs sit in the middle with a large chest set against one wall of the tent. A fire pit has been dug, a low flame within to heat the tent.

Tommen looks up at your approach, his eyes rimmed with red. “Cousin.”

“Cousin.” You echo, taking a seat between them.

“If I am to die, will you ensure Ser Pounce, and Lady Whiskers are looked after?” Tommen asks, his voice shaky, his eyes on the gameboard.

Your heart leaps into your throat, and you grip the edge of the table, glancing at your father. “You will not die; you are a child.”

Tommen nods and wipes at his eyes with his sleeve. “That is what your father said too, but I wished to hear it from someone the Starks truly trust.”

Your father looks away, and you can spot tears forming in his eyes as he stands. “I must go and meet with Lord Robb; I will return for dinner.”

He makes a hasty exit, leaving you and Tommen at the table, the silence only broken by Tommen’s soft sniffles.

“You will not die; I will beg the king on my knees for your life if need be.” You tell him, taking his hands between yours. Besides your father, Tommen is all the family you have left, Myrcella is in Dorne, and your aunt and uncle will likely be killed. Your grandsire will surely be killed as well, if not imprisoned or sent to the Wall for the rest of his life.

“What will happen to me?” He asks.

You curse your father for his quick escape, it should be him who explains all this to Tommen, why is it left to you? Because Tommen trusts you, he finds you far more comforting than I. You can already hear your father’s explanation in your head.

Reaching out to brush away a few stray tears for his cheeks, you lay out your plan. “I will advocate for you to join Lord Stark in Winterfell as a ward, I do not expect it to be allowed, so my next suggestion will be for you to become a septon or a maester in the Citadel.”

“But they will hate me in Winterfell.”

“No, no, you will find happiness there, Bran and Rickon are near your age, and the Starks are good, honorable people, they understand you are not to blame.” You reassure him, squeezing his hands tightly.

“What about Margaery, what will happen to her?” Tommen sniffles.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Margaery will be marrying Lord Robb, to help secure peace.”

“They are a similar age; she will be happier with someone who likes what she does.” Tommen sounds almost relieved by the news, then his bottom lip begins to tremble, and his shoulders slump. “What if he hits her, like father or Joffrey? I saw father hit mother, I saw Joffrey hit you and Myrcella simply for speaking your thoughts aloud. Margaery has many thoughts, and she enjoys voicing them. What if Lord Robb does not like that?”

You squeeze his hands again and give him a soft smile, your heartbreaking at the thought of Tommen seeing what you, your aunt, and Myrcella had tried so hard to hide from him. “He will not, Lord Robb finds everything she says interesting, and if he does then I am sure one of his sisters will make him pay. They do not tolerate such things; you will see when you go to meet them.”

Tommen nods but does not relinquish your hand. “Will you come visit me in Winterfell?”

“Of course, Tommen, I will come see you in Winterfell then I will go see Uncle Jamie at the wall and then when I return, I will stop by and see you once more. Perhaps I will even be able to bring Myrcella.”

He smiles, it is slow to spread across his face, and it is watery, but it is still a smile. “I would like that.”

TL: @mostclevermiss, @solacestyles, @2valentines, @sharknutz, @idohknow, @bdudette, @pluraldoggo, @legolastheleafyelf, @faerie-film, @wifiatthetrainstation, @duskypinki, @tartine-de-pain, @rebeccawinters, @taylorsfemalerage, @rax-raxus, @certainwonderlandperfection, @designatedramaiver

[testosteroneb0y]

NSFW alphabet - HABIT emH

-Cross posted on ao3-

CW: explicit/18+ content below the cut, A lot of kinks are implied but not directly mentioned and there is probably things I could add in here but I'm too lazy, just know it's kinky and smutty and all that jazz

Author's Note: this is the first thing I've written in a while and most of it is just me yapping. I tried to go over it and fix any mistakes but I've been too tired to properly proofread it. I also tried to keep it mostly in character but Habit is just such a questionable character it's rather hard to make it not end up being ooc. Gender neutral but made with afab body parts in mind.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I would like to think there would be a little bit but tbh it seems like a no. He'd probably make you see stars and then go straight back to murdering people or something <3

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His : hands. This fella probably has hands that would be on the larger side (which is shocking) and he just loves that, he can do so much more whether it's wrapping a hand around your wrists to hold them together or something else (that I can't think of rn😔 I'm too tired) he just loves the fact that it gives him more control

Partner : thighs, hips. I don't really have a good reason for this, he just seems like the type of guy to love leaving handprints from grabbing too hard on thighs 😇 similar to the thighs part, he probably just loves gripping onto them.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he cums inside, there's no denying it. He'll say things like "'gonna fill you up so good, m'kay, rabbit?" I don't even think he would be that big on breeding but my god does that man love seeing his seed dripping out of you

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Jerked off and came into a pair of your underwear and put it back into your drawer. He would be soossososoooo obsessed with the fact that you'd end up not realising and wearing them will they were still dirty

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Habit knows his stuff and I stand by that. Evan, not so much. From being in so many different people's bodies he has to have gotten some action. He was probably pissed off when he realised Evan's body couldn't take as much as he would like to.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Literally any as long as he can grab at your ass, or thighs, or hips. Also doggy style occasionally because he just loves absolutely pounding down into you, shoving your face into a pillow and going to town.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

(This is more my Evan hcs bcuz yk its his body n stuff !!)

Naturally doesn't have much hair down there besides a little happy trail

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

honestly, canon habit probably would not give a fuck, as long as he gets to cum then he is fine but I'm a fanboy and dont care, i like that anyway :3

on the more ooc side, I think if he was truly inlove with you he would try to be more romantic but it's hard for him considering his violent nature

He would always try his best to make sure you have a nice (well...as nice as getting your brain fucked out of you can be) time.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he is shameless. He will leave a room and go to the bathroom or something and have a wank, he doesn't care if people in the other room hear him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

CHOKING. He fucking loves choking people because he likes the way they try to grasp for air. The light leaving their eyes is enough to get this man GOING.🥰 he loves pain, inflicting it mainly. I think it would be kinda obvious considering his...occupation, if you will. He is big on corruption. He just loves turning a little innocent "rabbit" into the freakiest person :3

I could go on and on about his kinks but I'm trying to contain myself.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Despite popular belief, I think he probably prefers being in his own house, but he would do it anywhere in the house.

If he is reeeally horny then he might pull you into an alley or something for a quickie

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything and everything you do will turn him on. I'm leaving it at that.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Im a strong believer that tbis man likes everything no matter how weird but maaaybe like scat n stuff, I can just see him not really being the biggest fan of things like that, he probably thinks it's too gross (and will say that while being covered in like 6 different peoples blood)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves receiving, Face fucking is one of his favourite things. Everything from how you look in the aftermath of it, to (going back to the choking thing) Your eyes rolling back as he just shoves his cock down into your throat.

Although he likes receiving, I think he would be pretty good at giving. It's almost like a wasted talent of his.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

I don't even know why I have to say this but he definitely is rough ASSSSFFFFF. He will plow into you like there's no tomorrow. If he is feeling really cruel he will go super slow at first, only moving very slightly, making it almost like new form of torture.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If he is even slightly pent up he most definitely will let it out. He seems like the typa guy that hates being sexually frustrated and he HAS to have some sort of release to calm him down or he is just rougher later on in the day.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He is down to try everything and if I'm being honest he probably has already tried everything, and I genuinely mean every single thing a person could like. This isn't to say he likes everything, but he does probably enjoys mostly everything being the 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 he is.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He could and would go all day, all night. Unfortunately, he has other business to attend to. (Brutally murdering people 😍)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

oh brother, he has toys, TOO many toys. Mainly to use on other people but I can see him using a vibrator on himself on occasion. He also would own everything that could he used for bondage, which also happens to come in handy when he gets a bit silly and kidnaps people ! This is kind of random but I can see him loving nip clamps.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

So much, too much. I personally would not be able to stand the amount that he would tease, and I can put up with more than the average person. He is just a cruel motherfucker.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

I can't imagine him being very loud. Evan whimpers, Habit himself wouldn't WANT to but that's the price that he has to pay when he uses other people's bodies.

He will talk and whisper dirty stuff into your ears most of the time but sometimes if he has had a bad day and is just really angry he will just shut up and get it over with.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He loves putting you in your place, even the slightest little bit of back chat and you are done for.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I think he would be pretty average in size, maybe even slightly smaller considering Evan's height, but he would make up for it in other ways.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It doesn't take much to get him going so even just the simple act of bending down infront of him, whether it was purposely or not, and he will have you bent over.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Habit himself wouldn't be tired because of the whole being an entity but he would realise "oh shit this body is so tired" and he would just force himself to go to sleep.

[thatwritterbeach]

one messed up bat .4

Dc masterlist

Batfam x reader x Jason eventually

Summary: The batboys sticking close to y/n

Warnings: self harm, self hate, angst, short sorry

A/N: I do not own dc

"Let's take a little trip around the room and you can tell me where all the sharp things are, or, you can be moved to an unused room and only come in here with supervision," Dick said with his hands on his hips.

"It'd be faster to move rooms, after all I have vigilante stuff in here too."

"I was afraid you'd say that, alright well, grab your pillow and anything else you need. Phone charger or whatever. I'm gonna lock the door when you're done and I will have to let you in-"

"This is ridiculous all my games and books and stuff are in here, not to mention my sewing supplies." (because I said so you now know how to sew, Y/n designs leather goods, handbags, fancy wallets etc. and has dreams of people actually knowing they exist)

"I didn't know you sewed," Tim said looking up from his phone to take in her room.

"I've had a machine sitting in the corner for years now, I thought you were supposed to be smart," she said walking over just so she could flick his ear.

"Hey, ow, I thought it was just girly decoration?"

"I suppose to giant shelf of supplies next to it is also decor," she asked with her head tilted.

"Sewing shears are sharp as hell, no way are you allowed around them without somebody's eyes glued to you," Jason said holding a pair of Italian knifes edge shears.

"Hey put those down they were three-hundred-bucks!" He nearly dropped them at her shout but caught them and set them gently back in their case.

"For scissors," Dick asked in disbelief.

"They could cut your arm off. They're Italian and I love them more than I love any of you."

"You're sleeping in a different room but you can be in her during the day, with one of us here."

She rolled her eyes but kept her mouth shut, whatever he needed to tell himself but she knew how this was gonna go. They'd say they were gonna take shifts, but stuff would come up, they would get bored. Tired of following her to the bathroom and sitting outside awkwardly. She'd be a good little pet, keep her skin clear of even a bruise from bumping into something and they would get complacent and lazy, checking up on her once a day. She gave it two weeks before they were leaving her alone again, and a month before they couldn't be under the same roof anymore and she only had to deal with Tim, easy the kid slept and drank coffee, and Damian who she could distract.

"Fine, anyone up for a snack?"

They nodded and she led the way to the kitchen, it was well into the night so it was dark aside from a few motion sensor lights she'd put in herself. (after the boys had said every curse word under the sun from bumping into stuff) She pulled out some chips and the other grabs various foods and drinks.

"We eating in here or you wanna go watch a movie?"

"Movie,"Tim answered starting to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"If you drink that at this hour-in fact if you drink any caffeine after four pm I'll start breaking picture frames to cut myself with the glass," she said snatching the cup from him and dumping it down the drain.

"Oh my God," Dick gasped dropping the bag of popcorn he'd just taken from the microwave.

"But...my coffee," Tim whispered looking at the drain like she'd just flushed his stash.

"Me no slashy you no caffey," she said pulling him into a hug. His arms came around her quickly and held her to him tight enough to make her back crack but neither of them moved. Her eyes welled with tears from the comfort and she tried to pull away but he held on.

"If you don't let me go I'm gonna cry," she warned.

"Go for it, you deserve it."

"If I start I won't stop."

"Oh, Y/n," Jason and Dick said in unison putting down their loot to add their arms to the hug. She was fully surrounded, encased in shear muscle, Tim's arms around her ribs and hands on her back. Dick's arms on top of his more hugging Tim than her but it was fine. Jason's arms were circled completely around her waist and they all took turns placing kisses on her hair. The need to cry and the urge to get away battled inside her but the only way out was teleportation.

"We love you," Dick said finally backing off.

"I second that," Jason said also stepping away.

"Thirdsies," Tim said stepping back to grab her face in his hands. "If you don't want me to drink coffee I won't drink it."

"Nice try, I said caffeine, energy drinks and tea included."

"Damn."

The moment passed they all grabbed their stuff again and headed to the theater room. A half hour into the movie she was the only one awake and she rolled her eye at the predictability, she started to sneak out of the room but Damian came in and snuggled up on her lap in the reclining seat she was in. (picture the Lego Batman seats the red velvet cushy looking ones)

"Tt, so pathetic they couldn't even be trusted to watch you for one night. He was so cute in his little batman pajamas she couldn't help but laugh at him squishing his face in her hands.

"Good thing I have you to look after me then huh?" He batted her hands away like and angry cat and grabbed the remote to change the tv, putting on old cartoon reruns instead. Dick was snoring like a freight train and she felt guilty for keeping him up so late, poor guy hadn't slept since birth. Tim was talking in his sleep something about mergers and 'no you can't sit there you little twat' he watched way too much British tv. Jason was silent and still as the dead next to her on hand stretched out in her direction as if he was offering her a lifeline even in his sleep.

@stormz369 sorry love forgot 😘

9-28-24

[thebottomfromhell]

Hello!, this is my first time on tumblr and i love hantengu so much. And i was wondering if you could do a hantengu x reader fluff (you can do any idea btw!) Oh! and you can add the hantengu clones if you want!.

very very sorry if your not taking requests right now!

I am always accepting requests, don't worry. People might just have to wait for them since they pile up. I will keep it to only Hantengu, since it seems the preference of the moment.

Hantengu cuddling against GN Human Reader while resting

Warnings: Hantengu being Hantengu :/

Unlike Hantengu, you are human, that means having to wake up every morning in order to finish and do chores and works. You need a profesional life, a social life, a domestic life and so on. Sometimes you can't help but envy how he gets to skipt every responsibility you have as a human, his only job is to survive... well, technically that is also your only job, but you have very different standards on how to do so. Still, that doesn't change that you come back home late, not wanting to move a sigle muscle the second you sit or lie down, like now. It's night, you are in your home, lying in your beddings as you read a book that is not that interesting but was the nearist one and you were either too tired or lazy to look for something else.

You can't even pay attention to the reading, every word before your eyes just turn into a meaningless symbol, even if you re-read it several times, being only a distraction that keeps your eyes active to do something that is not sleeping. Or... well, whatever. You really don't care enough, so you just zone out, mind thinking in anything else but the book, when you get startled by a figure "suddenly appearing" besides you. "Eeeek! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Oh, it's just Hantengu. You didn't expect him to be here tonight, and he is usually sneaky, so you probably just didn't see him get close as you were not paying attention and since it's dark already, only a latern behind you lightning the room.

"Hantengu, you scared me." You reply calming your breath as he still squeaks and apologizes, making you laugh as the adrenaline dies in your veins. "It's ok, I'm not angy. Need anything?" Not that you feel that you would want to do anything that means standing up unless you get hungry or need to use the restroom, but thankfully, Hantengu just shakes his head. But that only leads to an akward silence in which none of you both move a single finger, besides the fact that he is trembling and playing with his hand, but he is still kneeling besides your beddings. After a while you lazily open an arm to invite him in after he starts sobbing.

"Want to lie with me?" You ask softly to not trigger him, making nod after a while as he lies with his head on your stomach. The horns and the tumor make it a bit uncomfortable, besides his body weighting slightly, but you don't mind about it, only starting to pet his head. At first he tenses at the contect but he slowly relaxes against you as the soft touch prolonges. Some tears wet your robes but you don't mind it as you close your eyes, not really sleeping but trying to relax as well.

He nuzzles against you, if it was not for your clothes the scratch the horns would make would have hurted you, but none of you seem to care. He wants comfort and you want to give into sloth like he usually does, barely doing anything, letting the clones take away all the work. With the weight the heat and your pulse rise up, making you a bit sleepy as you have to remind and force yourself into keep petting your partner. You wonder where the others are, probably stored away. In order to stay awake you try to open you eyes, but they keep closing, eyelids heavy. "Y-Y-Y/N?" You ask as he noticed you stop, but it's the last thing you heard before everything is still.

By the time you wake up, Hantengu is still over you, but in a different position. It takes you a while to process that he surely got up to close and cover the windows in order to hide from the sun. The second you turn your head, rubbing your eyes to fight how tired you feel, not even knowing yet if it's day or not, you look at Hantengu, who is also looking at you with tears in his eyes, shin and palms against your stomach as his body is on top of you, his legs to each side, sheet covering all of him. With his eyes glowing and his position, he almost looks like a cat, making you laugh tiredly.

"Good morning, Hantengu." You have no idea if it's actually morning or not, but instead of correcting you Hantengu just looks away, ears and face blushing, before digging his face in your stomach, the horns made that sting, but nothing you can't tolerate. He probably was watching you sleep, not having anything better to do, since he himself doesn't sleep. The weight makes you not want to move, specially since that would mean disturbing him, so you just keep the activity you where doing before falling asleep, patting Hantengu, until he feels annoyed and gets up on his own.

After a while he moves away "Goo-good morning...." he says quietly, you still feel a bit lazy but sit anyway, yawning loudly, making him flinch. "I um... I have brought you tea." Just now that he is pointing it you see the keetle besides your beddings. You smile to Hantengu as you start serving yourself, barely mouthing the "thank you". He hugs you from behind while you do, giving you silence as he burries his face in your back, letting you remember the routine of today.

Once you remember everything you have to do and make a mental list... you decide to stay for a little longer. "5 more minutes..."

[lover-of-mine]

I'm not your Lady Whistledown, but the Oliver stuff started very subtly following the joint interview. I think reality hit a few of them following that. They built it up as this big springboard for the ship and when it didn't go that way the, there were no more interviews, or promo for the pair from the show, anger at Oliver started to creep in. It was subtle until Lou closed his cameo, but once they lost their direct contact with him, lots of them blamed Oliver. They believe the show forced him to shut it down. And many believe Oliver had something to do with that. It didn't help that immediately after he closed his cameo he also stopped interacting with or answering their questions on Twitter. And of course Oliver started blocking people as well. There are lots of them who are also freaking out over the SWAT stuff because he's clearly going back to that show, in some capacity, and they don't know what that will mean for his availability as far as 911 goes.

Ryan's interviews aren't helping them either. He's kind of been systematically disproving each of their arguments with every interview he does. The Men's Health interview with Oliver, I think was just what finally broke some of them. He's not going to get on board with Tommy, whether the show gives him canon Buddie or not, he clearly isn't vested in or going to vest in B/T and I think that's getting harder and harder for them to pretend away. I think it's also becoming clear that Lou's enthusiasm for it has certainly dimmed as well, for whenever reason. They're not being fed anything to sustain them anymore because all of it was coming from Lou himself and once he stopped they didn't have anything else to cling too. So being mad at Oliver is all they have left because they're never going to blame or be angry at Lou. So now Oliver, Tim and even Ryan, because lots of them think Oliver would be fine with B/T if Ryan wasn't around, are to blame for everything. Their ship was never about Oliver or Buck. Once Lou made himself available to their fawning and played along with it, all while taking their money, it became a fandom about Lou. Buck was just the character paired with the actor they were fetishizing. Hopefully they follow him out the door.

wait, they are blaming Oliver for the cameos stopping? I mean, I keep joking if it came down to it the production is gonna do what keeps Oliver happy, but to say Oliver has that kind of pull is just a lazy excuse to hate him. Lou was creating a type of publicity that didn't line up with the route they were going. That's even if Lou was told to stop, we don't know that for sure, do we? Dude can just get tired of playing it up not that he got the exposure he could get and now it has run it's course. I have a little prayer circle for him to book something else and not come back, so if he's back in swat, you will hear me cheering, but seriously, the more I learn the more wtf i am. But it does make sense that they built the thing around the shiny new actor and now can't keep up because the part of the ship that actually matters doesn't care, that adds up. I kinda wanna scream tho, Ryan's interviews are because he's promoting a movie. The dude is not getting interviews because of 911, the fact that he can't shut up about buddie doesn't change the fact that he is not there to talk about them. And since the beginning, Oliver keeps talking about Buck being bisexual outside of Buck dating Tommy, and it's crazy to watch the fantasy crumble when there was never to back it up to begin with. Honestly, I do hope that when Tommy goes he takes that part of the fandom with him, because my god....

[the-s1lly-corner]

Prompts 31-36

speed running the tropes with Jason (guys can you tell hes my favorite yet)

BIRTHDAY

He tries to make you a birthday cake for your birthday... and while it's not terrible it's not... you know what it's the thought that counts! Besides he seems so happy with himself, even if he tries to sign to you that the cake isnt as pretty as he intended it to be. On top of that he gifts you some pretty little piece of clothing or jewelry he found in the camp! Just.. dont ask where it came from. I can see Jason being into wood carving honestly, so its likely that hes made you something! A bowl to keep your little trinkets in, for example! But of course he could make you anything else just say the word! Takes birthdays very seriously when it comes to you, he wants you to feel important

SUPERNATURAL AU

I could be lazy and say that Jason is the one who is supernatural, since hes a zombie during most of the franchise.. but imagine, a reader who is a creature of sorts. My brain always tracks back to a deer person.. he thinks you're so pretty, graceful too. If you have antlers that shed during the fall/winter, he keeps them.. not for any use other than he thinks they're pretty. It's a little odd, but can you blame him for being in love with you? Was completely mesmerized by you the first time he met you, he had never seen anyone like you before. He had never heard about anyone like you before, either. He thinks it's cute when your ears and tail twitch

MOVIE MARATHON

MINI MUSIC MIX

Treehouse - Alex G

Bruno is Orange - Hop Along

I'd add more but my brain... blank

Jason has probably been able to snag movies from past campers, so while he never really had any intention to watch them he does have a bit of a collection! So what better time than now to watch them? You both huddle up together on some small TV with a player you thrifted from town.. you might have even picked up some snacks and additional movies to really drag the night out. Its nice, you're sitting against Jason.. if you get tired at any point but want to keep watching he let's you sit in his lap and melt into his body. Hes like a giant teddy bear, warm and comfortable... you eventually wake up in the morning in bed, not remembering when you fell asleep

BAKING TOGETHER

As mentioned above he can bake, though he is not particularly skilled at it. Not to worry because imagine you offer to give him some lessons. If you've been here around for a while you already know what I'm going to say. Imagine taking his hands in yours when hes cutting something. He can definitely cut well, but hes not good at making.. uniform and neat cuts. He nearly jumps when you take a hold of his hands. He clings onto every word you say and follows your directions to a T.. just explain to him what some terms mean-!

HEAD REST

If you're ever tired or just want to lean into him, hes always open to letting you lean yourself against his shoulder. Just let him know if it's the first few times because he might jump and freeze! As the relationship progresses he let's you rest on his lap and put your head on his chest or his neck as he works on something with his hands.. you two can stay like that forever.. the only thing that would make him take you off of him would be anyone stepping into the camp when they shouldn't be there (which is never! There should never be anyone!)

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,233 Words

Summary: The aftermath of a solar eclipse.

Warnings: Cursing, Blood (mentioned only), Minor Injury (mentioned only), Panic Attack, Caps, Crying (lots of it), Angst, Fluff, Family Bonding, Past Character Death (mentioned), let me know if I should add anything else.

Binding And Bonding: Chapter 2

Eclipse groaned, feeling something moving him. Was Solar moving? No. Someone's foot was planted on his shoulder shaking him.

"Get up, Eclipse, what the fuck did you do in here!?" Moon's voice filtered to Eclipse.

Eclipse groaned again at the annoyance of being awake when he was still exhausted. Eclipse could feel Solar was more awake than him and internally pinged Solar to speak instead.

"Moon?" Solar's voice filtered from their voice box.

"Yeah, Eclipse, it's me. What did you do? Why is there blood on the ground?" Moon asked. Eclipse gave a chuckle at Moon not knowing whose voice was whose.

"Wrong one." Eclipse found it in himself to tell Moon.

"What do you mean wrong one?" Moon asked.

"Look at the sigils. You know what they mean." Eclipse told him, too tired to explain. Eclipse opened their eyes and let Solar have half control like Solar was vying for. Both had control of one eye, giving as much control as they took. It was nice, it was balanced.

Moon was knelt down, looking in growing horror at the sigils on the ground in chalk and swiping blood away from a few of them, which had spread since Eclipse had poured it.

"These are summoning and binding sigils." Moon realized. "You of all people wanted a soul bond?" Moon asked.

"It was the only way." Eclipse huffed.

"Who did you…" Moon stopped his question, seeming to realize where they were and Eclipse gave a lazy half-smirk.

"Hi Moon." Solar greeted Moon, making sure his voice sounded like it used to.

"Solar." Moon lurched forward in tears already, grabbing Eclipse and Solar as he cradled them close like he'd lose Solar again. "Oh god." Moon buried his faceplate into Eclipse's shoulder, little droplets falling against Eclipse's shoulder as Solar hugged Moon back as tightly as he could manage.

"I'm okay. It's okay." Solar assured him as Moon seemed to break into hysterics, shaking and heart-wrenching sobs piercing through the stale air of the room.

"He's safe, Moon." Eclipse pushed to sit up as Moon simply collapsed against them, limp in their arms as he cried and nearly screamed with his hands fighting to cling his upper body as tightly against them as he could.

"I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere, Moon. I'm not dying again." Solar promised, rocking Moon, seeming to know what to do to help Moon more than Eclipse. Since Solar seemed to know better, Eclipse let Solar front more, watching through their eyes as Moon was overwhelmed and slowly crying himself out on their shoulder until he was nearly asleep.

"Shh, I know. I'll be okay. You'll be okay. It's safe to sleep. I'm right here for you." Solar assured Moon, who couldn't help but pass out asleep from how much crying he'd done.

"What happened?" Eclipse whispered.

"He had a panic attack." Solar sighed.

"Is he okay?" Eclipse asked.

"He'll be fine. He just needs to rest." Solar told him, grunting as he scooped Moon's body into his arms and was about to transfer Moon to the bed in the room but spotted that Moon had blood from the circle on his pants.

"Alright, get out of the optics, I need to change his clothes." Solar told Eclipse as he sat Moon against the nightstand and carefully detached Moon's fingers from their neck frills.

"I'm not a pervert. I respect people's privacy, you know." Eclipse scoffed, tuning out their optics to let Solar have privacy with their brother. Was Moon Eclipse's brother again? Did Solar inhabiting his body too make it so that Moon was his brother again? Eclipse kind of liked the idea of having a family again.

"Alright, he's clean and decent." Solar told Eclipse and Eclipse tuned back into their optics, seeing Moon laying in the bed in a clean pair of sweatpants and a big fluffy hoodie.

Moon was curled up in the bed while Solar was rubbing over Moon's arm softly and tucking him in. Eclipse liked that Moon looked so calm when he was sleeping.

"I'm going to clean what you did. Thank you, Eclipse. I'm sorry we have to share a body." Solar told him.

"You think I didn't know I would be sharing a body?" Eclipse asked back.

"I… Thank you anyway." Solar told him, a smile forming on their face as Solar rubbed a particular divot in Moon's faceplate that made Moon give a sighs sigh, relaxing from the tenseness of a nightmare Moon had been having.

"Thank you for coming back. I actually missed you, you nice bastard." Eclipse huffed as he helped Solar clean up the soul binding ritual and fixed up their left hand.

"I missed you too, surprisingly. I missed that cocky other version of me going batshit over Ruin." Solar gave a content sigh, finishing the cleaning up and making sure the blood hadn't seeped into the wood.

"You ruined this patch of flooring." Solar sighed, watching the blood-soaked floorboards.

"Yeah, I know. I plan to offer to fix it." Eclipse groaned with annoyance that the floorboards needed to be ripped up and replaced.

"I want to tell Earth. Lunar and Sun too." Solar told Eclipse.

"Yeah, I'll sleep, you do that." Eclipse muttered, settling to sleep in their mindspace, curled up like a kitten. Solar looked in on this and chuckled at Eclipse sleeping like a cat in their mindspace. It was kind of nice to see him sleep for once.

Solar tucked Moon in more and then went to the daycare, looking down to see the group of three siblings in the daycare cleaning the barrels. Solar knocked on the door to get their attentions as he came in.

"Eclipse?" Sun asked tiredly.

"Nice guess, close but no." Solar told them. "Earth, is knitting still available?" Solar asked, making her eyes widen at him. "Lunar, buddy, is Jack alright?" Lunar stared up at him like he saw a ghost, which he basically was. "Sun, it's a couple weeks late, but can we still play Gang Beasts?" Solar asked.

"Solar?" Lunar asked.

"SOLAR!" Earth tackled him to the ground, tears already on her face as she began to sob and clutch to him, Sun guiding a shaky Lunar over as well.

"I'm okay. I'm back, Earth." Solar assured her as her sobs slowly quieted into hiccups and sniffles, wiping her face.

"I'm sorry for attacking you!" She whimpered out.

"It's okay, I knew you would." Solar hugged her tightly and sighed as she settled against him.

"Solar, it's really you?" Lunar asked.

"It is. Eclipse actually did it." Solar smiled. Eclipse roused with a soft groan in their mindspace, as if annoyed having heard his name in his sleep.

"How?" Sun asked.

"He had to perform a soul-binding ritual, which is why I'm in his body. Our souls are bonded, which makes it so my core is from this world now instead of my old one. And both of us used all of his remaining magic along with the boost from the solar eclipse to bring back all the dimensions Ruin destroyed. We don't have any magic anymore." Solar explained.

"We're so glad you're back, Solar." Sun told him.

"I'm glad I'm back too. It felt like forever and I missed all of you the whole time." Solar smiled, bringing Sun and Lunar in for a hug as well as Earth calmed down.

[loveislandthegame]

thoughts on today's volume! this was certainly an experience. 🙂 for real tho, we've definitely reached the point of the season where everything starts flying off the rails

i'm putting my clown costume on & continuing my natasha route, she told MC that her and stefan are just friends (i was getting mixed signals in this volume tbh, but if stef/natasha are actually romantic if you're off their routes , i'm just gonna assume it's glitches or FB being too lazy to branch rather than her being dishonest)

unfortunately for those who thought uma being a returning islander was going to be a fake-out , hamish brought her ass back in a friendship couple (granted he would've been dumped if he didn't twist, but he seriously couldn't have picked anyone else ? 😭)

then we play whatever this challenge was, i was mentally checking out . i hyped all the guys up except finn. it really bothers me that he keeps flirting with MC no matter how many times i've pied him off, it's giving suresh

i also thought that uma was going to be dumped due to her lack of a redesign ... perhaps fixing her weirdly long broken arm & "5 seconds away from pissing herself" pose is asking too much of FB, but they could've at least given her a new hair & outfits 😭 it wouldn't fix her personality but jeez (slightly off topic but i think uma's face is gorgeous, FB did her so dirty in so many different ways)

i picked all the chill options with her. side note, i'm so bored with these rivals that just go after whoever you're coupled up with . i'd be much more invested if the drama was like: stefan trying to have a proper relationship with natasha, hamish trying to win her back, or even uma wanting to pursue her

speaking of the drama, chen randomly decides that he's somehow more compatible with somebody he's known for a grand total of two days than the person he's been madly in love with for this entire season ... really bad paraphrasing here but my jaw was on the ground when he was like "uma is actually interested in melbourne and did research about it, you shouldn't move to my home city because of me, what if you hate it🥺." mind you, my MC is also australian

FB keeps reusing this "LI and MC fighting because they had a disagreement over the most miniscule bullshit" plot point and i don't understand why . later on he apologises but it's just so...ugh . Overbearing i guess ? idk how to describe it but i think i'm done with him

my tinfoil hat theory is that FB is trying to ruin everybody's route to make finn look good by comparison, and that's just not happening for me luv, but i will say that it made me appreciate hamish more . he's a hot mess but his scenes with MC are very sweet (love a friends to lovers moment)

at least the chen drama gave me the strength to go to the hideaway with natasha without feeling guilty (that damn hyperempathy lmao)

of course we get The Box™ again, but this time there's sexy...crossword ? 😭 (like i've said before, i don't care about these scenes so i can test out whatever FB adds without being like "damnnn that was a waste of time")

it's definitely better than dice, it's not some super spicy thing, just (at least with natasha, idk if it can change) neck kisses before the option of going all the way/bits/cuddling . sexy crossword is a deeply unserious concept but i would go with it if you're tired of the other options

next up is movie night, my MC is a hoe (mainly in the sense that anybody on a wlw route can't officially be with their LI until the final recoupling, but i'm also on hamish's route now) but i didn't do anything in casa, so i wonder what her clip will be. my prediction is that it'll end up being something that can apply to all players e.g. the PDA awards drama

(can't wait for everyone to clutch their pearls over MC turning down finn for the one millionth time 😍)

[terresdebrume]

#14, Joe Liebgott ship of your choice <3

Prompts from the "Things you said" prompt list, with 14 being "When I wasn't meant to hear." Send me a number and a character/pairing if you want to see more writing! :D

Thanks for the request! I feel like it took me forever to answer, but in my defense I was at work and also this thing turned out to be 2.5k long :P No particular warning except for the mention of past suicidal thinking towards the end-ish. Also, this is Webgott, because I'm nothing if not consistent (in shipping choices, anyway).

____

Joe looks up from the cutting board, sniffing against the sting of his onions, and glances idly at the kitchen clock, then frowns when he sees the time. Mrs. Obradovic called David out on the phone almost half an hour ago, saying something about an old friend on the line. Joe assumed it would be Chuck or Christenson, asking David round for a night out on the weekend like they do sometimes, but you don’t pay for half an hour on the line to shoot the crap with a guy you see once a month.

As for the others, well. David wasn’t popular with Easy, and Guarnere is the only one who ever bothers calling, usually to let David know to expect his invitation to the next reunion soon. No way Guarnere has that much to say to David though, especially not on a long-distance call. Curiosity piqued, Joe sets his knife down and abandons his half-chopped onion on the cutting board. He wipes his hands on the apron David got him last Hannukah, with the edges fraying where Joe tore off the lacy frills, and quietly makes his way out of the apartment.

They live on the second floor, under the roof. It’s not a bad spot. Too hot in the summer and too damn cold in the winter, for sure…but it’s also soundproofed from when the rest of the building belonged to a single family who didn’t like to remember they had maids and whatnot living up there. Painfully snob, yes, but it does allow Joe to fuck David until he screams without worrying about being overheard, among other things. Pretty good deal, if you ask him. He makes his way downstairs, inhaling the scent of curry behind the downstairs neighbors’ door, and is stepping on the first landing when he hears David’s laughter.

“Well,” David says, sarcastic, “aren’t you just hilarious today.”

Yeah, this is definitely no one from Easy. If he used that tone with any of them, they’d stop calling, and fast. Chuck and Christenson’s connection to David is already more geographical than anything else, Joe doesn’t think they’d take well to being spoken to with that kind of lazy arrogance. Hell, he’s a floor up and not involved, and it’s already grating on his nerves. He’s stepping down on the stairs, ready to go and pull faces at David for speaking like the snotty Harvard upstart he used to be, but then David sighs and says: ‘Of course I do’ in a tired tone that makes Joe pause. Then, before Joe can make his mind up on taking the next step, David adds:

“Who wouldn’t miss space and functional heating?”

Joe’s entire body goes rigid. Downstairs, David is slumping against the wall, one hand holding the phone up to his ear while the other fiddles with the cord. He seems. Normal. Casual. Like there’s nothing wrong with him chuckling and saying:

“Mmh. I haven’t had lobster in ages.” There is a pause filled with the light whistle that hasn’t left Joe’s ears since the war. “Definitely. And wine. I haven’t had a really good wine in years.” Another pause, and Joe watches David shake his head. “They’d never take me back.”

Something gives Joe’s gut a violent squeeze, like an icy fist around his bowels. He feels the blood climb into his cheeks, the burn against the back of his neck. in his palms, his nails sting. In the hallway, David’s head tips back, to the ceiling in an open-mouthed, beseeching look. It’s a bad angle, from where Joe is, but there’s no mistaking the sudden tension in David’s shoulders, the way he shifts until both of his feet rest on the ground.

Seething, Joe turns around and thunders back upstairs, slamming the front door closed on the way to the kitchen. The ingredients of his mother’s potatoes and leek soup recipe glare at him from the cutting board. Potatoes, leeks, onions, all grown on the damn roof nobody else uses, because Joe figured it’d be good to have something to lean on in case they hit a rough spot at work. Didn’t even consider planting some vine up there, schmuck that he is. Joe strides to the counter in two quick steps, because that’s all it takes in the tiny unit, and picks the onion back up. He peels it with prejudice, and attacks it with his knife as soon as he’s done, barely registering when David’s slippers click through the hallway and into the kitchen.

Though, of course, the situation can’t hold for long.

“What’s going on?” David asks, and Joe stays silent. David sighs. “Joe. What’s going on.”

“Nothing,” Joe mutters.

He’s not surprised when all that gets him is a click of the tongue and David stepping closer. Damn kid is oblivious at the best of times and rarely inclined to use that big brain of his for common sense, but, well. They have been fucking since Lansberg. Five years is a long time to spend in and out of a guy’s bed without figuring out some of his lies. Even so, Joe doesn’t look up from where he’s making the most finely chopped onion of his life.

“Look, I know I said I’d handle dinner—”

If Joe were honest, he’d admit he’d completely forgotten about that. David’s dinners usually consist of sandwiches and cold cuts anyway, so the benefits of leaving that up to him rarely outweigh the costs. But Joe is not always an honest man, and so he says:

“Don’t sweat it.” Then, when it feels like David is relaxing by his side, he adds: “It’s hardly a loss anyway.”

David draws a breath in, sharp and short as his body recoils. Joe keeps his eyes on his hands, ignoring the sting as he reaches for another onion over the countertop and begins peeling it.

“You said you liked my sandwiches,” David says, something confused in his tone, and it’s such an inane response, Joe finds himself looking up to glare at him.

“They’re fucking sandwiches, Web, not some kind of hot cuisine or whatever the fuck you thought you were doing with it.” David’s eyes go from bovinely confused to shining with hurt, the slant of his eyebrows matching the line of his mouth as it falls open. Then his jaw sets, like it always does, he’s glaring right back at Joe:

“You know what? Fuck this. If you wanted fancy dishes all you had to do was teach me to cook something.”

“I don’t give a shit about fancy dishes,” Joe shouts back, acutely aware that’s the heart of their current problem. “I’m fine with normal food.”

“Wha—how the fuck am I not okay with normal food?” David exclaims, voice pitched higher than normal. “I’ve never complained about your cooking, have I?”

“Well,” Joe says, as snide as he knows how to be, “Maybe you should have. Maybe we should both have complained more. Save ourselves some regrets.”

“Regrets?”

David’s face changes again. From the flushed tone of his temper, it falls into the stoniness of all their true arguments. It’s a cold, impassible face, and if Joe weren’t so fucking pissed every time he sees it he’d maybe take the time to envy it. There’s nothing to read on a face like that, not even when you’ve spent the past five years in and out of a guy’s bed, brushing your teeth over the same tiny sinks in the mornings. It’s the kind of face that could hide anything. Does, too, apparently.

“What regrets are you having, then, Joe?” David asks with the voice of a stranger.

“Not my regrets,” Joe corrects, mouth filling with the bitterness of the words. “I’m fine with what I got.” Then, because the chill hasn’t left his guts and it needs something to get out, Joe hisses: “I have enough space.”

David’s face doesn’t change, but Joe sees it anyway: the line. It’s in the way his shoulders stiffen, the way he straightens up. Joe could stop at that line. Could step away from it and let them go back to their evening. But the fist hasn’t left—presses harder on his insides, on his throat, behind his eyes, and so Joe ignores the warnings and says:

“I don’t give a shit about fancy wine.”

Joe can see David’s jaw working at that, eyes fleeing Joe’s to roam around the room. He’s cottoned on, then. Joe braces for the next step: the narrowing of David’s eyes, the flush climbing up his throat. He leans into Joe’s space to hiss:

“You’re being fucking unfair. And you know it.”

“Unfair? It’s not fucking unfair, Web, it’s honest.”

David’s got nothing to complain about here. He’s not the one who’s been busting his ass for nothing for the past five years. Joe fucking found the space, didn’t he? Painted it, furnished it, arranged it so David would have a fucking space to put his bags down once he finished his precious little degree. Kept it up, too: Joe’s the reason they haven’t have to resort to living in filth. And yet, because it’s not the fucking Fairmont—

“It’s not fucking honest,” David hisses again, arms rigid by his side. “You know I like good things. This isn’t a secret; you make fun of me for it at least three times a week.”

Joe glares at David as he speaks, blood beating hard at his temples. The ice in his stomach spreads out, up and down through his ribcage, his armpits, his spine. He clenches his fists again, but no warmth remains there. He is frozen in place, watching as David says:

“I won’t apologize for it. I won’t. I won’t.”

“So what’s the plan, then?” Joe spits out. “Since things clearly aren’t working for you here, what now? Back to New York to beg?”

David’s entire body sags. His shoulders round up, his shirt creasing with the change of posture. Joe, eyes glued onto David’s, is vaguely aware of David’s hands seeking refuge in his pockets. The ice in his chest climbs up, warming, until it boils over the apple of his cheeks and the back of his neck. Still, he stays silent. Watches as David takes an open-mouthed breath, then sighs.

“They’d never take me back,” he says, but this time instead of the flippant thing he’d said on the phone, it comes out quiet and defeated.

It must have been someone from there, Joe realizes too late. Someone calling this other guy named Kenyon to convince him to abandon some kind of lark and come back home. No one in Easy ever really cared to know anything about David beyond his arrogant pride in his Harvard days. Even Joe didn’t ask about it until after the war was over, and getting to know David didn’t feel like volunteering for more scars when he inevitably dropped.

“Exactly,” Joe says, reining in the tension in his voice as best as he can, “so forget about them.”

David scoffs, then turns away from Joe, head leaning back again. Joe listens to the way he breathes in deep, watches the rise and fall of his shoulders. Hears the roughness of his throat when he says:

“You’re not being fucking fair.” Joe hates how quiet he sounds. “You still have your family. I’ve got nothing.”

“You don’t have nothing,” Joe retorts immediately, and flinches when David snorts.

“And what if you get tired of this?” He asks, twisting his head until he can glare at Joe with one withering eye, the apple of his cheek glinting in the slice of afternoon sun that makes it through the kitchen. “What do I have, if I don’t have you?”

David turns away again, breathing in deep. For a moment, Joe watches him. What does David have, outside of him? He’s been here two years. His things are all over the apartment. Joe’s family has almost never set foot in it, and never without warning. And Joe, who is cruelly aware of the ocean that exists between knowing something in the abstract and knowing it for real, is very good at tidying David’s things away. He. Didn’t mean to come to…that. It’s just.

Joe got lucky. More than lucky: he got granted a miracle. He told his Ma about the way he looks at men when he was at his lowest, as a last ditch effort to severe the only tenuous link he still had to sanity and the outside world. Thought that, with that done, he’d finally have the fucking guts to end it all. Instead, he finished explaining and found himself engulfed in his Ma’s arms, head pillowed on her bosom like it had when he was a short and skinny kid, and the sound of her voice in his ears saying ‘I love you, I love you, I love you’ until he had no choice but to believe it. But even so. What if.

Funny, how Joe never really bothered with those two words, before the war. Oh, he’d had plenty awareness of the consequences of his actions. If this, then that. Simple. But ever since Tipper stepped out of that house in Carentan, it’s been what if. What if it were me, what if I’d gotten there sooner, what if Web gets bored, what if Ma changes her mind. What if. And now, here David is, with the same two words stuck in his hands like shrapnel.

Joe looks at him. At the breadth of his back, and the way his shoulders stopped heaving. At the hair that’s starting to get too long at his nape, and the slippers he never fucking puts back on the shoe rack. At the blotchy flush of his nape, and the spot of skin behind his ears that is Joe’s favorite place in the entire world. Joe looks at David, knows the same things he knew yesterday, and the same he will tomorrow. He swallows, and makes himself say:

“You’re never gonna have nothing.”

David’s laughter at that leans a little too close to hysterical. Then, in something that’s almost a whimper, he says: “Joe.”

Joe steps up behind him, lacing his arms around his waist. He feels David’s hands come down and rest on his wrists, as light as a bird waiting to take flight. Then, he raises his nose just enough for it to rest on the spot behind David’s right ear, the one that smells of sweat, aftershave and the occasional dab of pomade. He squeezes David’s waist, just once, his heart pounding.

“You’re not gonna have nothing.”

The birds of David’s hands land more firmly on his wrists, anchoring themselves there as David leans back into Joe’s chest. They stay there for a long time, Joe alternating between nuzzling at David’s neck and placing kisses there, until David’s stomach growls and they’re both hungry enough that they end up eating sandwiches and cold cuts after all.

And the next morning, before David wakes up, Joe calls in sick from work, and drives to his Ma’s house to invite her over for Shabbat.

[its-zur1]

when tired, Levi lays down with his head on Erwin's lap. He never admits he's tired but Erwin always knows, yet never does anything about it, and they both keep it that way, unspoken of, something casual.

Once they both knew they started feeling something for one another, yet their relationship wasn't really official, they just knew and kept it unspoken, Erwin started stroking Levi's hair everytime he did that, and soon realised Levi always fell asleep when he did that.

In the mornings, Levi would swear he fell asleep cause he was tired, not cause he found it comforting. Of course, Erwin knew.

after Erwin's death, Levi can't sleep as much anymore, especially not on the couch where they used to rest so peacefully, without having to worry about anything.

As Levi grows older, he begins forgetting what it felt like to be held, to be calmly resting that way. Then, one night as he goes to sleep, he wakes up to the smell of tea, as well as something else. He's confused at first, as it gives him a sense of comfort, which he hasn't properly felt in a long while. Looking around, he realises his vision is blurry. He feels a hand on his shoulder, and it clicks what the other scent is. It's the smell of nature, a forest, a river, all mixed together, and a sense of nostalgia washes over him.

The hand drags him down, where he stays, not moving until his vision gets better. He blinks a couple of times before seeing that familiar face.

He feels his lips curl into a small smile. He can't remember the last time he's felt so calm, so relaxed, so.. at peace. He doesn't seem to remember how he even got here.

"..Erwin..?"

He asks in a tired voice, staring at him. His eyelids feel heavy, his body isn't moving, only his eyes are observing his surroundings. He realises he's in Erwin's office, on that couch, laying comfortably. He feels the urge to get up, but at the same time feels too lazy to do so. He lifts his head slowly, knowing the scars on his face will hurt when he moves too quickly.

But they don't. Nothing does. Nothing feels dangerous, nothing hurts, he feels safe.

Looking over at his body, he notices none of his fingers are missing. He doesn't react, he feels too tired to. He tries moving his legs as well; it doesn't hurt.

He feels just perfect.

He feels something on his forehead; a kiss. A gentle one.

He rests his head back onto Erwin's lap and lets out a sigh.

"...are you.. real?"

He asks his lover.

"..hm..?"

Erwin looks down at him.

"...it depends."

"..what..do you mean.?"

Levi replies tiredly.

"..would you wish to stay here?"

Erwin smiles down at him, his fingers running throught Levi's hair. Levi finds it soothing, and his eyes feel heavy again.

"..for how long can I?"

"as long as you wish. you've done so good, my love."

Levi feels another kiss on his forehead, and he closes his eyes.

"..Just us..?"

"Just us."

Levi smiles, letting himself relax onto Erwin's touch.

"Although, I'm sure Hange would show up too, they might bring Miche and Nanaba with them."

Erwin adds jokingly, and they both chuckle about it.

"I'm sure your other friends would like to see you too. Isabel and Furlan, am I correct?"

Levi's eyes shoot open once he hears they're names.

"..But they're..."

"Shhh... It's okay."

Levi calms down and feels his eyes close again.

"Yeah, I'd like that.."

He falls asleep for the last time as Erwin continues stroking his hair.

[dynared]

Hello! I'm sorry if you're tired of this topic, but I can't help but be glad that I'm seeing more and more people criticizing IDW comics!

Once I also wrote a post about criticism of these comics, and my main problem was that there is absolutely no lore in these comics, and if there is anything, it is very little.

I just can't believe that for so long the authors haven't brought anything to the transformers lore. During this really huge amount of time and an impressive list of issues, I expected just a ton of worked-out world and everything else. And as a result, the depth of the lore was approximately equal to the depth of the drying puddle.

I don't understand why many fans praise these comics for the politics and the worked-out world, when this is absolutely not the case. Politics is mainly based on some personal conflicts and intrigues, we practically do not immerse ourselves in the structure and work of the political apparatus, ideas, influence on social structures and lifestyle, the response of different segments of the population to this. No, I understand it's difficult and the age audience is not suitable, but maybe you can't make the central theme of comics something that you can't describe and don't understand how it works?

The authors do not know how to describe a truly alien race and, despite their hatred of human characters, have made Cybertronians so similar to humans that it is absurd.

For example, why is functionalism bad? I understand why this would be bad for humans, but why for another species whose lifestyle should be completely different? In fact, this is the most logical way of life for an alien race, because what is the alternative? Is there an alternative? Can Cybertron switch to equipping itself with conventional technology? What will the Cybertronians who are released from work do, what other jobs and activities are there? The authors do not go into this much and we do not see clear ideas of what a Cybertron society should be without functionalism. Well, or I didn't have enough of what the authors gave me.

But well, we have functionalism. Why is it that the elite of society under this regime are mostly the owners of "useless" altmods? Why not those who transform into scientific or very powerful military equipment? In general, under such conditions, the power on the planet would have been seized by the military part of society long ago.

It's not worth talking about the fact that the usual daily life of Cybertronians is described in almost no way. Along with the culture, we have received very little information about it.

Oh, maybe we know something about the transformers themselves then, right? Not really. Basically you can only find headcanon materials. And what about IDW? Maybe they offered us their glossary, terms, schemes? No, there's nothing. Moreover, already at that time, fans on the forums came up with everything and drew the structure of transformers, and the IDW authors were too lazy to even steal any ideas, except for a few.

But if the authors can't work with these topics, do they describe relationships and love well? Again, no, literally all relationships are either built from scratch, or do not develop, or are full of manipulation, deception and emotional swings (yes, everyone's favorite "the only good" pair of Chromedome X Rewind), or end in nothing, as if nothing ever happened. And it doesn't depend on whether it was a gay relationship or a completely straight one, all the relationships there are very poorly written. If this, like Arcee, is a representation, then it looks more like a direct insult.

And, by the way, if love is for everyone, then where is the love between a transformer and a human? Oh yes, authors hate humans. Love is not for everyone!

And in general, it's good, the authors want to add love and romance, but it needs to be justified! Love relationships are not a necessary phenomenon for species, a lot of stars have to come together for this kind of social interaction to be like that. How did the Cybertronians come to this when they don't have any prerequisites for it? How did they get the Conjux Endura ritual (or did you want to say "bonding"? ;) ).Why does such a strict government, as we were told, disapprove, but not prohibit such types of relations, if in all other respects it is totalitarian and cruel?

How do Cybertronian diseases work? Why did Ratchet die of this disease, but not the characters older than him? This point is generally very similar to a cheap way to soften the reader.

I can go on like this endlessly, but I'll stop here. Roberts is not just a fanfiction writer, he is a very mediocre  fanfiction writer who may have a couple of interesting ideas, but lacks the talent to show them. And then, ordinary average writers understand what they are doing and why, and do not get paid for it. It's even more insulting for the authors of fanfiction, who, even for the sake of their strange plots and ideas, try and spin like they're on a frying pan, go out of their skin, coming up with a justification for everything inside the fanfiction. Roberts can't do that.

In the end, I respect the Kiss Players more because the author knew perfectly well what he was doing and wanted to anger the audience, and the audience reacted appropriately. The authors of the IDW comics thought they were doing something smart and great, but they weren't. But the audience presents it as something great.

P.S. I apologize for the mistakes, I use a translator.

There is no need to apologize, you managed to point out the issues with IDW Transformers and why no one really bothered to read them outside of that specific hardcore audience, and not even a general hardcore audience, but an audience that agreed with one specific interpretation of the material, and everyone who had other interpretations could go suck a lemon.

I’ve said it before, this is a prime example of “Writing a comic about a comic” where the use of lore and specific characterizations is so specific to the franchise that any story that is told is Greek to anyone outside of the bubble, which accounts for IDW’s horrible sales. Skybound’s story so far has been criticized by some hardcore fans as a G1 redux, but even if it is, it’s still a well told story with universal themes, consistent, easy to understand characterizations, and characters that are likable for the heroes and hatable for the villains. It has a clear tone, something both IDW and IDW2 failed at utterly. Roberts, meanwhile was a terrible writer, but he was good at engaging the audience the same way fanfic writers do, focusing on the relationships that get the most dialogue, and leaving openings for others to fill in, via discussion or their own fic. But that’s useless when it comes to engaging a general audience. Most of the audience didn’t want to do the work of filling in the holes themselves, they wanted to have the story do that, or at least provide enough context to paint a picture.

As for Kiss Players, while I don’t know if he wanted to purposefully offend the audience or just create shock value, it was a side story comic. It didn’t shape shows afterwards causing them to tank, and doesn’t have people looking at the last show aired and yawning out of sheer boredom.

[yeetus-feetus]

"if you're so hungry why don't you just get up and make yourself food?" "stop being so lazy and get yourself something to eat" "why haven't you eaten all day? You're an adult why can't you get yourself food?"

Because it's not that fucking easy! I struggle sometimes and I'm so tired of being called lazy because I'm grown and can't do things for myself. Do you know how much I hate myself because I can't just get up and eat! Not on a bad days like today. Right now my only safe food is Mac n cheese, I can't eat anything else, do you know how many steps that takes on a bad day??

Look at it like this

On a good day: Step 1) make Mac n cheese. Step 2) extra cheese. Step 3) enjoy the yummy food!

On an okay day: Step 1) find a bowl. Step 2) find Mac n cheese packet. Step 3) put mac n cheese in bowl. Step 4) add water. Step 5) microwave for 2 minutes. Step 6) take out and mix. Step 7) microwave for 3 mins. Step 8) grate cheese. Step 9) mix in extra cheese. Step 10) eat Mac n cheese. Step 11) clean up.

On a bad day: Step 1) make myself get out of bed and try not pass out from the nausea caused by simply getting up. Step 2) walk to kitchen. Step 3) open cubbord and look for bowl. Step 4) find Mac n cheese packet. Step 5) open packet and pour pasta into bowl. Step 6) open flavour packet and pour into bowl. Step 7) find measuring cup. Step 8) measure correct amount of water and add to bowl. Step 9) carry bowl to microwave and open microwave. Step 10) put bowl in microwave. Step 11) press buttons to set microwave to 2 mins. Step 12) look for my comfy spoon. Step 13) panic because I can't find comfy spoon because it never gets put back in the right place unless I do the dishes. Step 14) either find comfy spoon (which adds several more step if I have to clean it) or have to force myself to use a regular spoon and not have a meltdown. Step 15) open microwave and Take out Mac n cheese. Step 16) mix the Mac n cheese. Step 17) put bowl back in microwave. Step 18) press buttons to set microwave to 3 mins. Step 19) sit on the floor because my body aches all over and it's too much to stand, and watch the microwave until it dings. Step 20) open microwave and take out Mac n cheese, trying not to spill it because standing up makes me dizzy. Step 21) mix Mac n cheese again. Step 22) forgo adding extra cheese because that's another 20 steps I'm too tired for. Step 23) look for a comfortable place to sit. Step 24) sit and stare at Mac n cheese until I have enough energy to force myself to eat. It's probably cold by now. I probably have to take several breaks before being able to finish eating. Step 25) make myself get up again, try not cry because everything hurts and the room is spinning again. Step 26) take bowl to kitchen. Step 27) rinse bowl and spoon. 28) wipe over the bench. Step 29) walk back to my room and go back to bed for the rest of the day.

Do you see how impossible a task can seem when it's almost 30 whole steps?? Can you understand why I struggle so much on bad days? It's a good thing if I manage to eat at least one thing. It's a good thing if a manage to get up and got to the bathroom when I need to, instead of laying there and holding it until I can't any longer and then force myself up- that's a thing that happens. And you're gonna get upset at me for not being able to eat?? Do you even know how much pain I'm in right now? How bad my demand avoidance is right now? How many painkillers I've taken, if I've been able able to muster up enough energy to take them? How much I want to gauge my own eyes out to relieve the building pressure in my head because it feels like it's going to explode? Do you see that 29 step list looming over me? A 29 step list that has the possiblity of becoming even more fucking steps if everything doesn't go exactly right? Do you understand why I can't "just get up and make food" now?

Jfc I hate it here.

I hate my body.