#OOC maybe

[karmapasta05]

if u know the joke u know

[sharrrrknight]

[graceraindrops-blog]

Laito: Brother, I feel my time is soon.

Ayato: Laito wtf are you talking abou-

Laito: I am afraid that I may behold the light from the pearly gates .

Ayato: why are you talking like th-

Laito: Oh, how I long to walk anew within the garden's embrace.

Ayato: Stop interrupting m-

Laito: Oh, how I yearn to rekindle the fervent nights with my beloveds.

Laito: Verily, brother, dost thou reckon I could wander the gardens once more ere my time draws nigh?

Ayato: Laito it’s just a damn cold you ain’t dying-

Laito: Oh, how I desire to bestow one final kiss upon my beloved ere we part wa-

Ayato: LAITO FOR FUCKS SAKE YOURE A VAMPIRE, YOU AINT DYING, YOU AINT ENTERING THE PEARLY GATES, AND YOU AINT SEEING ANY DAMN LIGHT.

Laito: Damn can’t a bitch be dramatic

[galvynor]

oops

[asmotheavatarofhorny]

Your (Slightly Moist) Envy Demon 🧡

———————————

⚠️ Warnings:

• Lots and lots of fluffy cuddles<3

• Levi being a pervert incel but nothing actually happens

• Leviathan x GN!MC

• Cussing

• Mention of Mammon

———————————

It was night in the Devildom. The pitch black serving as a picture perfect backsplash for the millions of stars painting the vastness of the sky, the blood red moon glowing impossibly brightly, sending beautiful rays through your window, dyeing your sheets a deep scarlet.

You felt comfortable. Warm. Safe.

You were surrounded by your family. Surrounded by your protectors.

Even in the dreary hell scape that was the Devildom, you felt safer than you did in your home land.

You felt loved.

Your soft blankets, freshly washed courtesy of Beel, hugged your body perfectly, shielding you from any imperfections in the world. You were so at peace.

…

That was.. except for the soft (and incredibly cold) pressure on your thigh that you knew couldn’t be from any inanimate cause.

Your eyes fluttered open, you softly yawned and stretched before leaning up slightly to catch a glimpse of tonight’s invader to your space.

Blue hair and a curled up body was all you could see.

Levi.

The poor boy must have been having a rough night. That, or he just hadn’t slept in a while due to some new game he was speed running.

Either way, he was here now.

You wondered why he didn’t just ask for cuddles instead of intruding and nestling his face dangerously close to your ass, but this was Levi. Of course he didn’t ask.

You reached your hand slowly towards him, massaging his head and fondling his hair which was—

OH MY DEMONS HE’S FUCKING WET??

Well, that explains the cold.

Goddamn it Levi, did you really have to get in my bed after getting out of your fish bowl?? Your bed is going to smell like algae for a while now… and Beel just washed your sheets the other day too!

You sighed in annoyance before sitting up, his head now in between your thighs. You pet him softly, running your fingers through his sopping wet hair. Suddenly you wished you hadn’t opted not to wear your signature pajama pants tonight, although you did feel bad about returning the boxers you borrowed from Mammon moist.

Oh well. They were comfortable anyways, and maybe he’d let you keep them now?

Levi opened one of his eyes slowly, looking up at you, but not making eye contact. His long fingers squeezed your hips lightly as he repositioned himself to be nuzzled into your stomach, rather than your… well. You know.

He meant well, you knew. But you could see a soft blush dusting his features. It beautifully complimented his dark blue hair, and you were glad you got to see it as often as you did.

You tousled his hair once again, before leaning back, letting yourself flop onto your pillows. Your eyes closed softly as you felt Levi’s soft breath on your bare stomach, which was revealed from all the movement causing your shirt to roll up.

You felt awfully exposed, but this was Levi. What was he going to do to you, other than blush and stutter when you called him out on accidentally being a perv?

You sighed, and decided you’d deal with it for now. You just hoped he wouldn’t be gone in the morning, like a fleeting dream that only lasted a few seconds.

The soft rays of the moonlight and the warm breath of the envy demon on your torso combined with the freezing cold of his soggy self, was incredibly comforting as you let your eyes slip closed and your conscious leave you.

It seemed you were doomed to sleep sopping wet.

You just hope you don’t catch a cold later.

[transingthoseformers]

Just

Imagining

It's been fifty to a hundred years after the war ended on earth

Cybertron has been rebuilt

Some mecha have been reformatted because they can

For reasons, Optimus, Megatron, and Starscream come to earth

There is wrangling to be had

A serious "how the hell did these three get together??" "... Oh, I see it now" moment is had

All in all a wholesome little adventure

[xiaos-wedded-partner]

Proposing to Wanderer♡

|WANDERER × GN!READER|

Contents: Fluff, and a very flustered lil puppet boy.

TW: none.

100% proofread♡

Hai:) I have no idea how to work tumblr, or what the customs and things are(I'm from wattpad. Disappointing, I know🫠.) But, I do hope you like this:)

(I definitely used a Character.ai bot I made to help with this because writers block grabs me in a f*cking CHOKEHOLD—)

Warning, maybe a little ooc<3

Wanderer was minding his business up until a few hours ago. Oh, how he longed for that silence now...

While he definitely likes having you around, heck, maybe he even loves it. – Though he'd rather swallow a cryo slime whole than tell you. – He felt he needed some space today. Yeah, that wasn't going to happen.

"H-hey!! What are you doing?!" He barked. Confused and honestly, slightly annoyed. Feeling the cold metal against his ring finger as you slid a ring with a light blue jewel onto his finger.

He looked from the ring, back to you. Unsure what to say in a situation like this, no one had ever even kissed him. Let alone proposed! How was he supposed to deal with this? To deal with you? With how his stomach felt so tingly and warm?? Ugh! he felt weak in the legs. Like he was about to kneel infront of you like some sort of fool.

"You- dare! I-" He raised a hand with his pointer finger up, as if to scold you. Like a mother about to discipline a child, before he stopped. Realising he stumbled over his words already. The sheer embarrassment from doing so left his face red, feeling his cheeks burn up as he held the rim of his hat and looked away. Hiding his face from you and mumbling a faint something.

It really didn't help with how you were looking at him, with that dumb little grin of yours. You looked so proud of yourself, too. Why? You had achieved nothing from this so far. Unless you actually wanted to see him — a usually calm, reserved and collected person. — A blushing and stuttering mess. He didn't see how you'd get any sort of happiness from that, but he didn't understand humans in general.

"What exactly were you trying to do?" His right eye twitched a bit, still ever so slightly annoyed as he slowly looked back at you. You looked as happy as a 7 year old who had plotted how to steal cookies.

...And succeeded.

"Well, what do you think I'm doing? What do people usually ask when they give another person a ring?" His eyes focused on your lips as you spoke. His ears ringing with the soft melody of your voice. Your words could be as dumb and headache inducing as ever, and he'd still grit his teeth and bear through it to simply hear that soft voice of yours.

Music to his mechanical ears.

He took a moment to process your words, letting them sink in as he tried to comprehend what you were asking. He looked down at the ring on his finger, feeling its snug fit. How suddenly soothing the cold metal was to him now. He turned his head to look back at you, his eyes observing every detail, pore and hair on your face.

He felt his cheeks heat up again. He watched as yours did too. And he finally decides to respond to you. Taking a step forward, one of his hands holding your wrist, he brought your hand up to feel his thumping chest. Murmuring four soft words in response.

"Will you marry me..?"

—☆—

Hope you liked it. Just double checking. GN means gender neutral, right?♡

I got inspired from this image off Pinterest<3

—☆—

[toffeebrew]

Help ... my brain is rotting on colorkiller platonic string of fate au where killer keeps finding ways to and cut the string 😭 He can't but he keeps trying .

[emilythezeldafan]

I feel like Norma Bates would violently butcher someone for showing Norman the song Mother by Pink Floyd

[andersouppp]

Zebruh:❤️Lady, what's your name?❤️

Chixie:fuck off/asshole

Zebruh:❤️Sounds exotic. My name is Zebruh Codakk❤️

[toyogamii]

pt.1

shoko has never seen satoru gojo; the strongest, look quite this weak. he’s sprawled across his office desk and the smell of vodka hits her so hard her eyes water.

“what are you doing?” she drawls, eyes flitting around the room as she tries to make sense of the man’s pathetic state.

“y/n?” he slurs and struggles to raise his head up.

shoko sighs.

“not quite.”

she drops her cigarette to the ground and crushes it with her heel as she walks over to him. he finally meets her eyes and she frowns. he looks… dead. the look reminds her of someone long ago… and for a brief moment she’s terrified of the sorcerer in front of her.

“what’s going on gojo?”

he shakes his head and mumbles incoherently, laying back down on his desk. shoko has to force herself to not roll her eyes and she clenches her teeth together.

“you think this is gonna help you?”

she picks up the nearly empty bottle of alcohol and smashes it on the ground.

“you’re fucking pathetic,” she spits, “get yourself up. you’re not… you’re not going to turn out like him no matter what. you’re gonna man up and fix whatever has caused this.”

satoru stares in drunken shock at the smashed bottle. he sighs.

“i can’t… i can’t fix it,” he mutters, “messed it up to bad.”

shoko sighs again.

“did something happen with, y/n?”

he sniffles at the sound of their name coming from shoko’s mouth and gulps.

”i had to protect them,” he whispers, staring emptily at the ground, “i’m dangerous. being around me is dangerous.”

shoko doesn’t know what to say, she watches him as he watches her.

“… you’ve never been the smartest, have you, satoru?”

he scoffs and swings his arm up wildly.

“you’re so mean to me,” he pouts, the momentum from his arm causes him to slide and stumble out of the chair and onto the floor. he groans and flops defeatedly around.

“you’re a mess. stay right here and try not to hurt yourself please.”

— —

satoru doesn’t know when he blacks out or how long he’s been asleep before he hears muffled voices outside the door. his head is pounding but he feels sober enough… unfortunately.

“i don’t know shoko… after what he did…”

“at the very least talk to him, it may give closure for both of you if nothing else.”

there’s silence. then the wooden door creaks open and he winces, flinching away from the light. your blurry form comes into vision. god you’re just as beautiful as the day he left.

“satoru,” you say.

your voice is like honey to his ear, so sweet and soothing. he lifts his head, his blue eyes shining. it’s been weeks but it’s felt like years. your hand comes done to touch his cheek and he shivers, his eyes almost rolling back at the feeling of your skin on his again.

“what’s going on?”

“i miss you,” he mumbles, nuzzling into your palm. you instinctively stroke your thumb along his cheek bone.

“you cheated on me. you… you left me.”

he shakes his head.

“no.”

you raise an eyebrow and cup his chin, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“what do you mean, no?”

“i could never cheat on you.”

the way he says never almost makes you swallow hard.

“you told me you did.”

”i… lied,” he admits, shame in his voice. you freeze.

“you what?”

he groans and pulls away from you, finally sitting up fully and facing you properly. he wants you in his arms so badly.

“i lied,” he sighs, “i thought it would be better… I thought i was protecting us both.”

he feels the sting of your slap before he can fully process what happened.

“that’s for fake cheating on me.”

he gapes at you, hand coming to his cheek.

“you hit me?!”

“you deserved it.”

“… you’re right.”

you sigh one last time before leaning in and kissing him. you still taste just like strawberries and mint, he thinks.

“and that is because i’m stupid enough to still love you after all this.”

[karmapasta05]

he will be the one who call his name, always

its suppose to be funny, but i feels i choose wrong bg screentone

[ky-landfill]

[koipepo]

That omake of little Kabru not being able to show off his howetown sweets because of Misril gets to me a lot so...

Here's a happier Kabru (and Lairu)

[justaz]

merlin who uses his magic everyday in ways that he doesn’t realize isn’t normal. magic helping him see in the dark so he can find his way in the woods or dark rooms with no problem. connecting with the woods around him so he always knows where he is and whats in the general vicinity which allows him to sense bandits just before they attack. using magic to keep warm in the cold or to cool down in the heat. confident and willing to go toe to toe with anyone bc he knows that regardless of what they throw at him, he could always win bc he could just use magic.

then somehow someway (post magic reveal) a sorcerer takes away merlin’s magic. or well just locks it away ig. but anyways merlin doesn’t have this part of him anymore and is left feeling empty, exposed, and vulnerable. arthur, the knights, and merlin going on a quest for answers to their problem and a way to get merlins magic back. but. but. but merlin is all jumpy and he’s rambling more than ever and is often reaching out to grab onto someone (usually arthur) and everyone’s confused and then they get ambushed and merlin freezes in the middle of the path like a deer. he’s watching everything go down around him with wide eyes until he’s targeted and one of the knights have to rush in to save him. afterward merlin is constantly holding someone and his grip is rather tight. he keeps looking around, his eyes scanning the trees around them over and over. when they try and settle down for the night, merlin wont leave the camp without an escort or two and when they’re trying to go to sleep, merlin is flinching at every noise in the woods around them and ends up shuffling over toward the person closest to him and laying pressed up against them.

arthur opening his mouth to tease and call him a coward when the word registers in his mind and he realizes that that’s what he’s actually seeing, merlin scared and defenseless. he ofc doesn’t realize the true depth of it all, i mean he knows merlin is missing his magic but he doesn't know that magic has always been a part of merlin, it makes him him. he’s had magic since he was born, he’s never known life without it. as he is now, he feels bare and exposed and blind and deaf and terrified. the knights are his defense rn and for the past few years, merlins been their protector so its a complete reversal of everything he’s ever known. he’s scared. arthur bites his tongue and lets merlin hold onto his arm and snuggle up close at night for some form of comfort and security. he doesn’t tease or mock and responds to his ramblings of fear with a level of gentleness the knights weren’t aware he even possessed. merlin slowly relaxing as arthur subtly comforts him without addressing it

[sincerelybubbles]

hotch x shy!bau!reader <3 fem content: slight age gap implied. reader is new to the team and more on the introverted side! not proof read, as is my hubris.

Tired, nerves buzzing from a night spent up and chasing sleep that was not welcoming, you throw your bag down on your desk and go off in hunt of coffee. You usually try to curb your caffeine intake, especially with the travel associated with your new job, but this morning is a happy exception to your new rule.

"Here," Emily says, watching you scan the cabinets of the kitchen. You hadn't heard her walk in, but she's offering you a mug with a sympathetic smile. "Long night?"

"Yes," you say, tone thankful, and spin to figure out the coffee machine.

"Three weeks and i haven't seen you use that once," she comments, sipping from her own warm mug and watching you settle the filter in place.

"I've stayed away. it's harder to sleep when I get back because of the jet lag, anyway, don't need to add coffee at all odd hours to the list, too."

It's the most you've said in casual conversation like this. To say you've been shy with your new team would be an understatement. You're good at your job, you were pulled from the academy early to do this for a reason. You fit well into the team, generally. You like listening to Spencer ramble, especially on the longer flights. Rossi's dry humor reminds you of one of your old professors you grew up admiring. JJ is a constant breath of fresh air, Morgan's consistent strength has built up your own moral. Garcia took no getting used to, lifting you up and settling into your life easily. Hotch is intimidating but kind under the colder-tones, long glances sometimes distracting but oterhwise comforting. Emily is easily one of your favorites on the team, friendly and whip-smart. But, at the core of it, you're shy. Painfully so, even.

The team caught onto this quick, settling into the truth that your observational nature that makes you so adept at noticing the smaller details is bound to weep into your social life as well. So, despite your comfort levels rising with the team, you find these situations hard. Do you explain your nightmares to Emily? Share that you're a diagnosed insomniac who spent the night watching FRIENDS reruns after chasing sleep that pranced beyond reach?

"You're better than me, then," Emily says, smiling over her mug. Her eyes tell you she's pleased at the little crack into your life that you've let her see. They're all like that: insufferably kind and polite with your introverted nature but greedily sipping up everything they can learn about you.

"It's a new development," you admit, clicking start on the machine and settling back against the counter facing her. Something about your sleepiness makes it easier to talk, your tongue looser, your ache to let loose around the team more profound. "I'm sure most of us are insomniacs, though."

"Not me," Emily says, chuckling. "I get home and feel like I don't wake up until I get back here."

"Ah, well, I'm sure it can feel like a curse no matter what way you fall," you say with a shrug. Emily lifts her coffee in cheers to that.

"Morning," Morgan says, turning into the kitchen and giving you a surprised smile. "Hello, sunshine, you're looking bright eyed today."

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "I know, I know."

Emily points with her chin at you, "She's making the coffee this morning."

"Ah-ah, remaking it because you and pretty boy always get here first and finish the first pot." Morgan teases her with a slight shake of his head, grinning and opening the fridge to pull out the creamer.

"Well, you snooze you loose. Or," she sends you a smile, complete with a little nose wrinkle and a tilt of her head, "you don't snooze and still loose."

"Clever," you say, voice dry with humor, hiding your laugh by turning around as the pot finished brewing. "I'll remember this later."

"Careful, she's got teeth," Morgan warns Emily, reaching around you to grab the coffee before you can and filling his cup.

"Hey!" You call in protest, voice raising louder than usual and a pout hitting your lips. Morgan laughs, white teeth on display, eyes crinkled at the corners.

"Here, here," he says, placating, tipping the pitcher to fill your cup as well. "Any sugar or cream to placate the beast?"

Before you can answer, a laugh on the tip o your tongue, Hotch walks in and settles his watchful eyes on you, interest sparking them. You shrink, not in fear but in self-awareness, and send him a closed lip smile. Stepping away from Morgan, you turn quickly to fix your own coffee.

"Good morning," Hotch says, nodding at Emily and Morgan, answering Emily's question about Jack's recent sickness (he's recovering well, thank you) and trying to catch your eye.

You duck away, cowardly and regressing back into your shell, deciding it's time to get to work and stop indulging. You catch Morgan tease Hotch as you leave, though, "Aw, you've scared her off."

You try not to think about it as you duck away, pushing all thoughts of your boss away.

You're unsuccessful.

The problem isn't that you're afraid of him because you think he's mean or unkind in any way. He's done his best to welcome you to the team, allowing you to take investigations in your own direction and listening to your insights since day one. There was a brief moment in your first week where you felt tested, like his questions weren't to gain your insight but to see if you were up to the task, but you slipped past that easily. you have the credentials to back yourself up. you're quiet, yeah, but you're always right on track to where you need to be. pulled early from academy to jump into investigating was hard but it made this easy. a few years of experience under your belt and the job feels natural and, even with the shift in teams to join the big guns in Quantico, you feel like you're exactly where you're meant to be.

No, embarrassingly, this has nothing to do with you not liking your boss or being afraid of him. Rather, he makes you too comfortable. He ducks his head to hear you speak as you walk and talk, settling deep eyes on your face. He's sturdy, dependable, and exactly everything you're all too interested in.

You hate it, harboring a school crush on your boss like you're a teen pining over your teacher. You know it's normal, you know it's perfectly reasonable and there's absolutely nothing wrong with being attracted to him, but you still slink away from him more than the others because of that attraction.

Because it's more than physical.

He listens when you talk. Granted, so do the rest of the team - they're profilers, of course they catalogue everything everyone is saying for future reference. But, beyond that, you catch him paying attention. He complimented your new blouse earlier in the week and it caused air to catch in your throat, suffocating you. It looked new, bright white and without wrinkles, but you knew he must have been looking, noticing, to remember you not wearing it before. He's kind, remembering details about you and the team and using them to aid in everyone's comfort. He knows Spencer can't handle dairy and you've heard him reminding an intern to stock the dairy-free alternatives for creamer in the jet. He brought you a neck pillow on your second flight because you didn't have one.

That gift you accepted with stuttering thank-you's and a flushed face. It hadn't flared this crush, but it definitely aided in your ability to accept it when you finally got around to no longer avoiding how he made you feel with every kind smile and gentle good morning.

You settle down at your desk, putting your steaming mug on a pile of paperwork you really need to sort through, and try to physically push the thoughts out of your head by ranking your hands through your hair, lifting it from your forehead and squeezing your eyes shut. Today isn't the day. You're too tired, sure that the team will be flying out today, and really need to be on your A-Game.

"Everything okay?" A calm voice asks from your elbow. When you look up, you decide the universe hates you. Hotch is leaning on the desk adjacent to yours, holding his own travel cup full of fresh coffee, chin tilted down to check on you. His gaze is kind, light on your face, and his eyebrows are lifted slightly. You get the feeling that he's doing everything in his power to present himself as less imposing.

"Yes, of course," you answer automatically, heart thudding in your throat.

"You know, you shouldn't lie to profilers," he says, tone teasing, voice still low. "If you're tired, it's okay to admit it to me, too."

You're about to brush him off when something in your brain freezes before clicking into place.

He's looking at you, pleading, expression open. He's usually guarded, professional. Caring, but with a guard up. Rare are these moments of genuine asking, especially rarer so are the moment of pleading hidden behind a mask of gentle humor. You think, briefly, about how it must seem to him. He heard you, Emily, and Morgan joking in the kitchen. You haven't been here long, you're shy, but slowly thawing to everyone but him. He doesn't know your reasons, he couldn't, you've made a genuine effort to hide them, and you force yourself to see it from his perspective.

"Sorry," you say, softly, slowly. "I didn't sleep well. First nightmares and then insomnia. Hence," you gesture toward your mug. You shrug, heart beating out of your chest, eyes searching his. Nice, be nice, be open and kind and yourself. "At least I have FRIENDS reruns to keep me company."

You see something relax in him at your gentle offering of the information. He sends you a not-quite-smile, nodding once and pushing himself off of the desk he was lightly leaning against.

"Take a few minutes, I'm sure JJ will call us in soon." He scans your face for a moment before looking down at your desk. He reaches forward, slowly but with purpose, and lifts a file that has been nagging you for days. The new computer system is hard to get used to and the paperwork load is heavier than you've experienced before. "I can help you with this to ease some of your load, too."

He's walking away before you can protest, tucking the file under his arm and ducking into his office. He moves swiftly, leaving no room for argument, and you're left at your desk, mouth agape and heart in your mouth.

"Wow," Spencer says, jolting you in your chair to spin around and face him. His desk is near yours, across a walkway, and you hadn't registered him sitting there. You think he was nose-deep in a book when you walked in but you hadn't been paying attention. "I don't think I've seen him warm up to someone that fast," Spencer admits, leaning back in his seat and giving you a confused look, eyebrows lowered. "Actually, he's never offered to help me do my paperwork. Ever."

"That's because you read far too fast for it to actually help you," you offer, mind racing, words hollow as your thoughts are elsewhere.

Eyes trained on the windows of Hotch's office, you take his advice and relax for the few minutes before JJ comes to gather you all in the conference room. Coffee on your lips, you let yourself smile behind the rim of your mug. You can't imagine how you could think of anything other than that, really.