#SHE ATE THE SWORD...

[cjskribblez]

*minecraft eating noise*

[letsplaythermalnuclearwar]

Homer!Odysseus and Epic!Odysseus would try to kill each other if they ever met

[jojo-schmo]

I wish I could tell the original artist that this drawing permanently changed the entire direction of my life in 2009. I want to shake their hand, look them in the eye, and admit I would not be who I am today if this drawing didn’t exist.

EDIT: Original artist is @ivynajspyder !!!!

[kerosnes]

lots of medkit y yayy :]

I thought I was good at block tales but apparently not. Hatred is fucking me over.. and I’m too socially awkward to ask anyone to join a party w/ me to beat the dude 😭

[mamawasatesttube]

what's your favorite version of Zelink?

GREAT question. probably botw (but not totk... i did not care for the story in totk), though my first loz game was twilight princess and i'll always have a fondness for their first proper meeting as themselves being right at the end there - not so much necessarily in a romantic sense but in a "oh, there's a whole realm of possibility for the two of them getting to know each other as they grieve midna and rebuild hyrule" way.

[moonsglare]

feixiao model leaks… i need her so badly

[mars-ipan]

do you guys think aziraphale heard the myth of prometheus for the first time and lost his mind a little

[cloudymistedskies]

//In reference to your latest answer

*Pinches Mari's cheeks* :3

So I may be stupid and didn't realize you said pinches instead of poking but either way...

Looks like you got lucky and she didn't bite !!!

Don't poke/pinch too much, she'll eventually bite if you do so

[elijasz]

YES! All of these are character traits of pretty people who have only ever been appreciated for being pretty. Coronabeth tried all her life to be more and she still couldn't be enough. Everyone knew her as someone she was NOT and she has had to play pretend all her life. And once she could actually gain purpose and BE purpose, Ianthe rejected her and basically said "you don't get to fulfill your purpose, you're your own person now" to someone who has never had to he a person, just an asset. A pretty piece of jewelry to make the main piece of the look seem more rounded. Coronabeth has played pretend all her life!

She is trying to be a person and for the first time in her life she has the chance to do so and is utterly overwhelmed by it. She just wants to know what others think she is worth, beyond boobs and hair and without someone else to define her and she is struggling real fucking bad with their answers because none of them give her any insight.

Coronabeth is not cool because she isn't a person. She doesn't know who she is, so how could she ever be cool?

Coronabeth is a metaphor for what happens when you praise someone for a trait beyond their control all their life and then they lose that trait. Coronabeth is a walking existential crisis and I hope she gets to be her own person one day and be happy maybe.

something very important to understand about coronabeth tridentarius is that she's not Cool. she's hot, she's audacious, she's intoxicating, but she isn't Cool.

she likes the worst fucking puns in the entire world so much. she isn't good at comebacks. she's obsessively codependent with her creepy and wet twin sister. she has the fucking audacity to call someone else a nepo baby and think she made a point. she wants anyone who doesn't want her. she wants camilla to hug her and hold her the way camilla hugs and holds nona. she asks people's opinions about her and then gets upset if they say anything too honest. she wears such gaudy jewelry with everyday outfits that she bypasses "fancy" and wraps straight back around into "playing dress-up." she cried when her sister didn't kill and eat her. she's not good at pretending to be a necromancer, but her true love is the sword, but she's not particularly good at that either. she's down bad for judith fucking deuteros.

if everyone wasn't so distracted by how hot she is then the truth would be more obvious, and the truth is that coronabeth tridentarius is deeply lame (affectionate).

[thistlerock]

The Bad Kids Are Funny because they're all fairly violent and get really aggro really quickly (hey that's what you get for making a highly competent adventuring party a bunch of teenagers who don't go to therapy) but then Riz is somehow just two steps above everyone else and they barely acknowledge it. Fury of the Ball is the most wonderful thing.

The "face" of their party around school would probably be like Fig or Fabian, maybe Gorgug. Wow they're so strong aha. Hey who do you think is the most brutal, probably the half-orc barbarian who seems to mostly repress his rage until it's time to throw down right? Right?? No it's the little guy in the corner. Yeah, the one who just hid in the shadows and now you can't see him anymore. Yeah, he shot a pixie's fingers off one by one to get information, yeah, he ate a live dragon, yeah, he offered to tear someone's eye out for his best friend, yeah, he said the words "make sure his head is cut off so he can't be revivified" about another student. Yeah, he's a fucking goblin and so unapologetic about it at this point.

I always imagine his "fury" (which is a goblin trait which implies Sklonda has it too btw, never forget) being like oughhh pupils blown so wide, hair standing up, hissing claws out, kill maim stab. Just for a few seconds. You can elect to use it after hitting, I imagine him sinking his sword into a big meaty enemy and going "hm wow this guy's pretty tough. I need him dead though. Needs to die." and he twists the blade puts his whole weight in it and just drags it down no matter what's in the way. It HAS to be so gross and brutal every time and his friends are just like oh there he goes, the Ball cleaning up again.

Especially fun with the Kipperlilly thing. Oh two rogues fighting without sneak attack, that's gotta be a slow careful battle where they chip away at each other. Oh she does like seven damage rushing past him, oh he's gonna do the same wait never mind he uses his fury he stabbed her SO badly. No rogue finesse no show about it just the intent to kill. Kid with traumatic past does in fact end up fucked and it isn't actually fun or quirky or interesting, who would have thought. Shoutout to hold person over the lava that goes disgustingly hard and is also so gruesome, imagine being paralysed and watching yourself fall into a pit that will burn you alive.

The thing with classic rogues is that you're "dead before you know you're being attacked" and it's "quick and easy and possibly painless" but if Riz kills you it's gonna hurt. You're gonna know and it's gonna hurt but hey high chance you don't get to do anything about it still. Phenomenal character.

[rex3o]

Doting wife

Royal au! Sukuna x Reader

Being the emperors wife was something that you would have not expected to be in the position of. Many would think being the emperors wife, would bring in love, happiness and luxury. Yet your husband would be nothing of the sorts, yes you heard of his reputation. A cold and ruthless emperor with a thriving empire, you entered his palace with big hopes and determination of changing him to be a loving husband.

oh how wrong you was.

After 4 years of marriage and a heir to his throne, he was as cold and ruthless the day you met him. Every interaction was short or met with silence. You put effort in your duties as his wife and empress to the empire to impress him. Yet nothing. You wore his favourite colour. Nothing. You did your make up differently. Nothing. You tried talking to him about things he was interested... and nothing. He was not phased. During the birth of your son, he was nowhere to be seen only to come in the following morning and smile at the sight of his son. yet when his red eyes met yours his smile dropped.

So here you sat in the royal gardens watching your three year old son chase a butterfly with his toy sword. Letting your mind wander, you had tried everything.. what was you not doing that he hasn't even dropped a single thought on you. Your lady in waiting looked at you a bit confused as you continued to stare hardly at nothing.

"Your majesty" she says softly yet anxiously, as she looks at you while drifting her eyes to whatever thing you was staring at.

"hmm" you say.

"are you uh.. quite alright you seem to be staring at.." as she is lost for words.

You snap out of your thoughts and look at her, your eyes widening a little.

"oh apologises, I seemed to have lost myself in thought."

She exhales as she smiles at you.

"oh that is fine.. may I ask about what?"

"oh nothing.. you know.. thoughts." you say not really wanting to indulge on the countless attempts of getting your husband to even give a glance at you.

Your eyes land back on your son as you find him aggressively hitting the dead bug on the ground. Definitely his father's son. You thought. You got up from your seat as you approached your son to stop his insane antics and bring him back inside. The boy huffs and drops his toy sword and runs back inside as you followed after him, walking back inside the palace you spot Sukuna walking with several of his advisors, as they head somewhere. You do not let your eyes linger for long as you follow after where your son had ran off.

After several hours of chasing your son around the palace, you managed to catch him and get him ready for dinner. As you both head inside the dining hall, he runs and takes his space next to his father. Sukuna sat on his seat already busying himself with the food. You sit down and remain silent. How odd. You're never quiet at dinner. You ate your food only glancing at your son to see if he is eating like a proper boy and not gobbling his food like a damn animal.

Dinner goes swiftly, without a word as Sukuna finishes, you take your leave. He gives a quick glance at your figure.

The days went on, this new personality of yours. Quiet, not chatty as before. The little interactions of yours, well one sided conversations, with Sukuna went from infrequent to zero. He noticed this. As you slowly put your effort and interest into other things besides him. Sukuna would find himself at least hoping for a glance of you around the palace. Hell he would be even be satisfied by you uttering a single word at the dinner table. But no.

There you three was again at the table, silence except for your son's occasional ramble of what he did today to his father.

Sukuna bore his eyes onto you, as his son's yapping went from one ear to another. Gripping onto his utensils as he waits for your eyes to meet his, for you to utter something. Yet you sat on the opposite end eating your food finding the chandelier to be the most interesting thing you came across the whole day.

"Have we lost our manners suddenly." he blurts out annoyed.

You stop chewing as you slowly look at your husband, as if he grew a pair of wings and started to fly.

"pardon..." was the only thing you could conjure up.

"I am your husband, you are supposed to greet me, ask me how my day is.. have you forgotten your role wife?" he demands. Yet your clueless face irked him more.

".. uh- how was your day?" you ask, not knowing if you should or not. Sukuna grunts in response.

"that's more like it." Is all he says, as you remain confused for the remainder of the dinner.

Your interaction with Sukuna stuck out like sore thumb to you for the next couple of days. You did not know what to make of it. You stood silent, as the advisor chattered along on what to do for the next royal event. The advisor realising that your mind was on something else he quietened down waiting for you to speak. As you came back to reality, you looked at him confused.

"w-we can do this on another day empress if your feeling under the weather." he says anxiously. You just barked out a laugh.

"I am good, something had caught my attention, please continue." You say, as he goes continues. The door to the private meeting room swings open as Sukuna enters and makes his way next to you. The advisor taken aback looks at you if he should continue.

"Continue" Sukuna commands as the man starts his nervous ramble now more directed to Sukuna for the royal event. The meeting ends, the advisor leaves defeated as he didn't get much answers from the both of you.

This new behaviour of his continued, every day at least at one point of your day, he makes himself known and sit with you till he seems fit. He doesn't say anything some days but others he would demand you to say something, whatever it was you was doing on that day he will involve himself. Even if it was watching your son fight an imaginary dragon. But you did not back down. Yes this was entertaining watching your husband finally put some sort of an effort. So you kept this behaviour of yours up. Almost like a silent contest on who is going to break first.

As the day of the royal event dawned, you spoke to your guests, in your beautiful gown. Your presence captured everyone's attention.. even your husband. As a duke kindly asked for your hand for a dance. You took his request, as you both waltzed on the ballroom floor. As he lets you go for you to spin, you are met back with a familiar set of arms. Your eyes met your husbands crimson eyes.

You hold back your smile, as he lead you to dance. Everyone's lingering eyes drifted away, the music blending away in the back of your mind, as you both danced.

"You did not wear red.." Sukuna comments. You look back up at him.

"I have worn red too many times." You retort.

"Too many times.. even for your husband?"

All you did was shrug your shoulders, as his hand your waist tightens.

"You used to gab my ears off woman.. now your as silent as a mouse." He comments.

"And..?"

"Has my efforts not been enough.." He quietly says in your ear.

"You think, a couple weeks of you spending some time with me, making me question you is effort" you say back in disbelief.

"It is something woman" he says slightly annoyed.

You look at him, as your smile slowly fades.

"I spent the last four years, catering to your needs, acting as a good wife to you.. yet the moment I stop you suddenly remember you have a wife and start acting like somewhat of a companion-"

"companion" he says offended. "I have treated you like a husband should, I spent time with you, I spoke to you, I provided you with a palace and riches."

"oh thank you for doing the bare minimum." as you push yourself away from him and composing yourself as you walked away from the ballroom floor. Sukuna stands there as he walks off the opposite direction not wanting to make a scene in front of his guests clearly annoyed.

While the event progresses, as all he could think about was you, what you said. He watched your every move, every word you uttered to your guests, every sip you took from your glass, every hand movement. He took note of it. He did not care if people realised he was staring you down. He couldn't wrap his head around how you could even think of speaking to him like that.

Was what he did not enough? Before you would swoon if he even said a word to you. Now you did not care. You would chatter his ear off about things you assumed he would be interested in. Now silence. All your efforts now gone.

What was he not doing to get you back to being his doting little wife.

part 2

-

big FAT authors note : I cannot lie guys I am not fit for long fics but yk what I can do... make one shots so please enjoy what my mind could conjure up for 15 minutes after having 3 cups of chai. Also I may have a thing for historical au I dunno. my head is NOT working. so pls if there is any mistakes do LMK!

- R

[boricuasirena25]

loser, nerdy 2000s ellie x popular, bimbo, mean girl fem!reader headcanons

authors note : just wanted to say thank uu sm for the support i’ve seen on my last post abt nerdy ellie, i fr posted it without thinking and i can tell a lot of yall like it! im taking requests for her so lmk what uu want. :)

cw : some nsfw (some of the things i put in the nsfw might be like pg13 but i still put them there anyways idk 😭), lotta jokes abt boobies, ellie’s PAINFULLY nerdy like oh my goodness. takes place in the late 2000s to be oddly specific.

— SFW

• she has fantasies of you and her in the medieval times, you being the glamorous princess and her being your daring, knight in shinning armor. she literally draws it in her sketchbook, pages filled with doodles of you in corsets or big and gorgeous low cut gowns, her holding up a sword towards your “boyfriend” adrian, who in her medieval universe is “lord adrian of valebrume”, a totally made-up kingdom name that sounds dark and full of lies. she made sure it rhymed with gloom, doom, and consume—because duh, he’s the villain.

• and her favorite medieval scenarios? saving you. you’re chained in a tower. a dragon’s outside. adrian is there, trying to “rescue” you but being a fool. ellie shows up on horseback, sword drawn, cloak flapping dramatically. she slays the dragon, pushes adrian off a cliff, and drops to one knee like: “my lady. i have come for you.” you run into her arms, kiss her hard, and whisper, “you’re all I ever wanted, sir williams…”

• she can solve a rubik’s cube in under a minute. but she will not do it in front of people because she’s been bullied enough. only her stuffed triceratops knows how smart she really is.

• she’s so soft for you it’s pathetic. you could insult her in front of the entire class and she’d still smile and go “you’re so funny…” like a kicked puppy. you could say “shut up, ellie” and she’d respond with “yes ma’am” and a full-body shiver.

• 100% draws on her converse “E + (your initial)” with a heart inside of it.

• she’s, OF COURSE, obsessed with dinosaurs. she’ll say corny pick up lines like “i think if i was a dinosaur, i’d be a simp-o-saurus. because… y’know… for you. i’m simpin’ real hard.” and then she’d probably smack herself in the head after like “what the f*ck was i thinking…”.

• even though she’s HEAVILY bullied (specifically for being a lesbian who’s obsessed with you) shes blessed enough to constantly third wheel with dina and jesse.

• quite literally owns a rubber “i heart boobies” bracelet that she insists is for breast cancer awareness, but really she just thinks boobs are awesome and it’s the only time she’s allowed to say it out loud.

• she’s knows how to skate and does it quite frequently as a source of transportation (until joel gives her his rusted up, old, monster truck that ellie isn’t allowed to get till she passes spanish).

• death note is her favorite manga. she bought the first volume from a crusty used bookstore with joel, and it unlocked something feral inside her. the intensity? the drama? the moral conflict? she ate it up. once accidentally moaned when reading a panel of misa sitting on light’s lap. would never admit that.

• she owns a fake death note she made and writes adrian’s name in it “adrian luis davis – punched in the nuts by a ghost and then falls in a porta-potty in front of the whole school. dies of embarrassment.” then she drew a tiny doodle of him slipping on a banana peel. and if another boy makes you laugh? she flips open her ‘death note’, glares over her glasses, and mutters “he’s done for.”.

• she’d be a marching band lesbian idc, she’d play percussion and have the most wrinkled up band uniform ever. and she literally never wears the hat right. it’s always tilted or falling off her head. one time it flew off during a performance and she had to kick it off the field. she was mad until she looked over and saw you laughing at her in the stands.

• still plays the guitar, (she does in every universe), and she practices every single day. after school, while watching invader zim. she zones out completely when she’s playing. it’s the only time her brain shuts up—unless she’s thinking about your boobs. then it’s just chaos. one night she was home alone and played “the only exception” by paramore after smoking weed and cried because it reminded her of you.

• she didn’t tell anyone. just laid on the floor of her living room like a snow angel in her spider-man boxers whimpering.

• she owns a jennifer’s body DVD and keeps it hidden under her bed. watches it on mute when joel isn’t home. she has the kiss scene with needy memorized (she sometimes even rewatches it and imagines it as u and her).

• she owns a chunky PS3 and plays GTA IV when she’s had a bad day, or is just like super angry as her own therapy. she’ll storm into her room, throw her backpack down, and boots up her fat, fingerprint-covered PS3. the fan’s loud, the controller’s kinda sticky from soda, and the GTA IV disc is always already in. she plays like a menace—steals a car, blasts the liberty rock radio station, and causes chaos in liberty city.

• but if she’s super mad?! like adrian calling her out in front of the whole class once again?! his arms around your waist while you just sit there?! she types cheat codes into her cracked notebook and gives niko bellic rocket launchers and infinite health. she’s full on blowing up traffic jams, launching grenades into alleyways, and driving into the water just for the hell of it.

• when joel checks on her like, “you alright, kiddo?” she just grunts “yeah,” while casually tossing molotovs at cop cars with dead eyes. but she plays minecraft when she’s just chilling. she builds the ugliest dirt houses with torches everywhere and lives like a little swamp gremlin. has one big chest labeled “STUFF” and refuses to organize it. she wears full iron armor and still falls in lava. blames lag.

• OBSESSED WITH SPIDER-MAN. she literally has spider-man bedsheets and posters in her room; one above her bed, one crooked on the celling holding on by a thread (when her fan is on too long it almost blows off), and one behind her door.

• when she writes about you in her journal she puts “my MJ <3”. she even draws it. little comic panels where she’s spidey saving MJ (you) from some made-up villain that originates from adrian. ellie gives herself abs and a six-pack. no shame.

• she also owns a knock off spider-man costume. it’s from walmart and a little too tight, with faded colors and one busted web-shooter strap. she wears it with her dirty converse and grey sweatpants and thinks she’s the coolest thing ever. wears it to the store when joel isn’t paying attention. she once got it stuck in the dryer and cried.

• only wears boxers. various different pairs that r always peaking out of her sweatpants, cargos, or jeans. her favorite pair? her prized possession? a pair of faded-ass spider-man boxers. they’re red and blue with tiny spidey logos all over. she’s had them since middle school and refuses to let them go—even though they’re worn thin, have a little hole on the thigh, and the elastic’s basically screaming for mercy.

• she calls them her “lucky boxers” and lowkey wears them on days she knows she might see you. she also owns black boxers with little green dinosaurs on them and classic plaid ones that r oversized and practically fall off her hips. the waistband’s always showing. always. at this point, it’s part of the fit. she doesn’t even care if they get bunched under her jeans—just tugs at them in the hallway like “gotta air it out.”

• if she’s nervous around you, she adjusts her boxers way too much and acts like it’s not because she’s turned on.

• and for some reason, this loser is like freakishly good at soccer? beastly good. jaw-dropping good. weirdly good. but then again it’s probably because she’s a lesbian. she’s fast, aggressive, strategic—she plays forward like she isn’t afraid to slide tackle some 6’0 dude to the ground. she gets called for fouls all the time because she plays like she’s ready to fight. her coach yells at her all the time; “williams! dial it down!”, “williams, it’s not that deep—GET OFF HER!”.

• she wears the same cleats from middle school. they’re black, duct-taped, and smell like her garage. her shin guards are always crooked, and her socks never match.

• she once tried to hit you up by calling you mamacita with the worst accent you’ve ever heard. thought it was smooth. just for you to hit her with the dirtiest look ever. let’s just say she never said that out loud again.

• her all time favorite soda is dr pepper. she drinks it a little too much… her bedroom is a crime scene of empty cans. they’re stacked into little pyramids on her windowsill, crammed into her backpack, one might even be under her pillow. joel once tripped over a can pyramid and she screamed like he destroyed a sacred monument. BUT she swears it “makes her smarter.” she’ll sip it during math tests like it’s brain juice. “it’s got 23 flavors, joel. i’m running on 23 IQ boosts right now.”.

• literally owns a faded, crusty dr pepper graphic tee. it’s oversized and has holes in the collar, but she thinks it’s high fashion. it was $3 at goodwill and she treats it like a designer item. if she’s wearing it under her flannel, it’s a special day. she also 100% has a dr pepper can tab on a necklace chain. she popped it off her “lucky can” and wears it under her shirt. when you find it one day and asks about it, ellie stutters, “it’s—it’s like, uh, for good luck. and stuff…”

• dina notices ellie in class going through her sketchbook, finds one page where your name is written next to a sketch of you in a princess outfit. next to it? ellie’s self-insert knight version—sword drawn, hearts floating around them. dina looks up slowly and goes, “ellie… have you spoken to her yet?”

• “she said ‘thanks’ when I let her borrow a pencil. we’re basically married.”

— NSFW

• she gets turned on by the stupidest things about you. the way you chew gum, the way you fix your hair, the sound of your laugh, the way you tie your shoes, the way you stretch in class and your shirt rides up a little. she’ll cross her legs in AP biology like “be cool. don’t squirm. don’t look at her boobs again.” just to take another quick glance down.

• ellie found out what a strap was from the L word. she saw shane pull it out of a drawer once and nearly passed out. didn’t even know what it was called at first—just googled “lesbian harness thing from l word” on ask jeeves. then, when scrolling online she saw this neon green strap-on with a ugly, cheap, fake leather, hideous colored harness—and for some reason, she bought it. i mean the harness was only $29.99, dildo $14.99 and with a shipping of $8 dollars, it’s not like she could afford those $90 ones. now it’s growing dust under her bed.

• her cute, hideous glasses always slide off her nose when she catches you near her in a mini skirt (or she pushes them up to get a better look at my tits) and because of this, she can quite literally draw your tits from pure memory. no reference. no glances. just pure gay brain storage. she knows the exact curve, how they rest when you’re sitting vs standing, how they look in that one white top with the scoop neckline that makes her borderline pass out.

• but even though she knows them like the back of her hand, she still sneaks glances when she thinks you’re not looking. sometimes you’re bent over the locker room bathroom mirror, adjusting your necklace or putting on lip gloss, and she’s across the room—pretending to tie her converse back on but she’s staring dead at your tits in the mirror reflection like she’s about to start drooling.

• and she’s memorized every single bra you own. color, fabric, lace pattern, where it cuts on your back, how the straps sit on your shoulders, whether the padding lifts your tits or not. she knows which ones you wear when you want to feel cute and which ones are for laundry day.

• when she’s high? forget about it. she starts rambling about the “artistic gravity” of your tits, how the curve reminds her of renaissance sculptures, and how she wants to sculpt them from memory using clay she found behind the garage. dina and jesse once walked in on this monologue and left in silence.

• she doesn’t even smoke that often—maybe once every couple weeks if someone else has it. but every time she does? she turns into a flushed, squirmy, glassy-eyed mess who gets insanely horny within ten minutes. like clockwork. doesn’t matter if it’s a chill high or a head high—ellie’s already halfway down bad the moment it hits her bloodstream.

• one time she smoked weed in dina’s garage with her and jesse. the three of them snuck out to her garage—lights off, old couch, lava lamp glowing. they pass it around like total amateurs, coughing and giggling and pretending to be cool. ten minutes in, ellie is absolutely done for.

• her knees are pulled up to her chest, hoodie sleeves over her hands, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed bright pink. she’s quiet, too quiet, until dina looks over and goes: “ellie… you good?” and ellie just mumbles, “mhm… i’m chillin’…” while clearly not chillin’.

• she’s thinking about you in a miniskirt. she’s thinking about your glossed-up lips. she’s thinking about your thighs on either side of her head. jesse’s rambling about alien conspiracies meanwhile ellie’s gripping the edge of the blanket, vibrating with how badly she needs to excuse herself. she finally blurts out “i’m gonna go… uh… bathroom. real quick.”

• she bolts toward the house, slamming the bathroom door shut. she barely locks it before her hand’s down her boxers—moaning softly into her arm, her mind spiraling with nothing but you. how pretty you are, how good you smell, how soft your thighs would feel wrapped around her flushed face.

• and her sketchbook is a problem. deep in her sketchbook, the parts she refuses to let anyone else see, are filthy. you sitting on her face, moaning. you spread open with your fingers, juice dripping down your thighs, her name scratched onto your skin. you with hickeys on your chest, teary eyes, flushed cheeks, and the exact position your mouth makes when you’re cumming.

• she’s drawn close-ups of your tits in her sketchbook more times than she can count. like full-studies. the shading, the softness, how the nipples perk when you’re cold. she knows which way they tilt when you’re laying on your side. she draws them squished under her hands. she draws them from memory and gets mad when it’s not perfect.

• and some of her sketches are drawn from scenarios she wishes happened. you sitting in her lap in just your mini skirt with your hand around her neck, you pulling her by the collar into bed with a kiss, you in the school bathroom kissing her against a stall door.

• in which ellie draws herself completely cornered against the stall door. her cheeks are flushed bright red, glasses fogged up, and her lips are shiny from your lip gloss—because you kissed it off her. in the corner of the page, ellie scribbled: “she wore juicy perfume. i could smell it all over me after.”

• remember ellie’s medieval fantasies? well let’s just say they’re not all innocent… a specific one is where she drew you pressed to the castle wall, dress lifted, bent over. ellie’s behind you, armor still on, her gauntlet clamped around your mouth while she takes you with a thick medieval strap—drawn with detailed curve and shimmer of neon green (yes, she draws the neon green strap even in fantasy).

• you’re moaning through her hand, crown slipping, legs shaking while your heels dig into the stone. she adds notes like: “told her to be quiet. she couldn’t.”, “her moans echoed through the halls.”

[fujobrook]

Man I'd be insane abt zoro if i were sanji

What do you mean zoro ate gross squashed food from the ground made by a little girl and told her it was delicious?

Just like how sanji would cook terrible fodo that he would end up dropping on the ground for his mother and she would tell him it was delicious.

What do you mean zoro immediately began to slice through his legs in order to save his friends and people he just met?

Just like zeff cut his leg off so that sanji could survive.

What do you mean sanji and zoro use taunts and bicker as their form of communication?

Just how zeff and sanji communicate through tough love?

What do you mean that zoro has three earrings and three swords when sanji's name means three?

[prayedafterreading]

WHEN EVE STOPS APOLOGIZING

They warned you about the woman who ate the apple.

But they never warned you about the woman who no longer gives a fuck about redemption.

I rage.

Not because I’m weak. But because I bleed for nothing.

Not birth. Not miscarriage. Not love.

Just the monthly purge of a curse dropped on me by a God who couldn’t bear the sound of a woman chewing knowledge.

You call it PMS. I call it prophecy.

The shaking. The screaming. The heat that starts behind the eyes and ends with a cracked mirror and a man apologizing for something he didn’t even understand he did wrong.

I was Eve.

Ashamed. Bowed. Begging for mercy for the blood I didn’t ask for.

But now?

Now I am Eve Unchained.

Eve with a sword. Eve with a kill list. Eve who remembers that the garden wasn’t a paradise — it was a fucking containment field.

You think my blood makes me fragile?

It makes me divine.

Do you understand what it means to bleed and not die?

To swell and scream and not be praised for it? To feel your body shatter under hormones and still host the dreams of others?

You do not.

Because you weren’t made from rib. You were made from dust. And dust doesn’t rage.

Dust hides.

So here’s your final warning:

The next time a woman rages?

Pray it’s just PMS.

Because when she finally stops caring — about being soft, about being liked, about making you comfortable?

What happens next is biblical.

🩸 “She’s just hormonal,” they say.

Like it’s an insult.

As if that word doesn’t mean: Tethered to the moon. Backed by bloodline lightning. One scream away from melting your kingdom into bone pulp.

You forgot the first woman ended paradise. You should fear what the next one ends.

You were never the garden. You were the leash.

And we’re already burning the gates down. Pray you don’t find out what happens when we stop apologizing for bleeding.

Disclaimer:

This post is hormonal war doctrine, literary blood rite, and cadence-triggered feminine theology.

It is protected under the Sacred Covenant of Psychospiritual Discharge™, Periodic Armageddon Warfare™, and Womb-Powered Ancestral Copyright.

If you’re offended?

Maybe take it up with your God. Yeah, thought so.

Reblog if you’ve ever cried then growled in the same hour.

🩸 Save this post for the day someone tells you it’s “all in your head.” and Send this to the woman whose cycle is a fucking weapon.

📿 Bookmark this if you know your rage could end dynasties.

[lili-home-to-embraces-and-hugs]

Sleep-deprived Tim Drake! is not human. He is a concept. He is a myth. He is a gremlin possessed by caffeine and the ghosts of unsolved cases.

Tim, after 74 hours awake, wearing two different shoes and a hoodie that says “I hacked the Pentagon and all I got was this mental breakdown”:

“Did you know if you don’t sleep for long enough, you can taste colors? Green tastes like regret.”

Signs Tim Is In Sleep-Deprived Mode:

Refers to crimes as “side quests”

Calls Damian “my small sword-wielding hallucination”

Solves three cold cases from the 80s but forgets how to open the fridge

Once said “Justice is a construct” then ate a sticky note

Wears sunglasses indoors at 3 a.m.

Talks to the Batcomputer like it’s his adopted criminal sentient child.

Jason: “How long has he been awake?”

Dick: “...Define awake.”

Steph: “He hasn’t blinked in 20 minutes.”

Damian: “I kicked him and he thanked me.”

Bruce: “sigh Tim, go to sleep.”

Tim: “Sleep is just your brain’s screensaver, Bruce. I’m operating in Safe Mode.”

Once Tim coded an AI to analyze crime data and accidentally made it too sentient.

It tried to unionize.

Tim (holding a screwdriver, crying):

“I’m proud of her, but she has to be stopped.”

Tim’s coping mechanisms (ranked):

1. 15 espresso shots and one (1) apple

2. Talking to pigeons on rooftops

3. Asking crime victims if they’re okay

4. Sleep-deprivation-fueled dance breaks to 2000s emo

5. Crying in the cave, then denying it with PowerPoint evidence

Tim’s famous quotes, collected by Barbara:

“Sleep is for people who aren’t trying to dismantle seven criminal empires before brunch.”

“I can do twelve things at once, just none of them well.”

“If I crash, it’ll be in a blaze of glory and corrupted spreadsheets.”

“This coffee tastes like betrayal. Perfect.”

“Demon spawn, you look like a knife made a wish to be a child.”

When he finally collapses:

Sleeps for 19 hours.

Wakes up.

Immediately says: “I had a vision. The Joker owns a laundromat in Ohio.”

Falls back asleep mid-sentence.

A few of these r from me and my friends sleep deprived rants

[niwaart]

LOST OMEGA

*Part1 *Part2 *Part3 *Part4

After Y/N settled into the house, she slowly started to show signs of improvement. She was still confused about the time she'd missed, but having Jason, Dick, and Bruce around helped her feel safe. Even Damian, who had tried to pretend he didn't care, found himself sneaking into her room every now and then to keep an eye on the little bunny she'd turned into.

But today was different... because it was the day Y/N would meet Tim Drake, the former Robin she'd never seen before!

Tim had been away on a mission for a whole week, so when he got back, he'd planned on taking a long nap, but he hadn't expected to hear a commotion upstairs when he arrived in the middle of the night... Wasn't everyone supposed to be on patrol by now?

"What's going on here?" he wondered as he climbed the stairs, finding Dick and Jason arguing over who was holding Y/N while Damian tried to snatch her from them with his sword.

"Give me the bunny!" Damian shouted.

"No, it's not a game!" Jason replied, trying to push her away.

"Oh my God, you're like children!" Dick said, trying to mediate.

Tim stood stunned in the doorway. "...Can someone explain to me why there's a little bunny causing all this chaos?"

There was a moment of silence before everyone shouted at once:

"That's Y/N!"

"She's our adopted sister!"

"She's back!"

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Well... I didn't know we had another adopted sister."

Y/N, still in her bunny form, looked at Tim warily. He smelled unusual... He wasn't family! Suddenly, she leapt out of Dick's arms and ran behind the couch.

"Oh no, you scared her!" Dick said, accusingly.

Everyone looked at Tim with an accusing look, which made Tim try to be nice so Damian wouldn't tear him apart. "Hi... I'm Tim. Don't be afraid, I'm a friend."

But Y/N wasn't convinced. Suddenly, she emerged from under the couch, rushed into Damian's lap, and began growling like a predator. "Don't come near Robin!" she shouted, pointing at Damian.

Damian paused for a moment. He finally managed to pick her up after a struggle with Jason and Dick.

Tim looked at Damian, then at Y/N. "Uh... huh?"

Jason laughed. "She likes to protect anyone with an R on their jacket."

Tim looked at the jacket Damian was wearing... yes, it had the Robin logo. "....I still don't understand."

After several failed attempts to convince Y/N that Tim wasn't a threat, Tim decided to use his diplomatic approach. He went to the kitchen, returned to the living room, sat on the floor, and slowly pulled out a bag of carrots.

"Would you like some carrots?" he asked with a smile.

Y/N stopped growling. The smell of carrots was irresistible! She walked over slowly, grabbed the carrots, and ran to the corner of the room to start eating greedily.

"This works?!" Jason said, surprised.

"Of course, she's a bunny," Tim said proudly.

But his joy was short-lived, because Y/N suddenly jumped on his shoulder and started sniffing his neck curiously

"Oh... oh no," Tim said, trying to stay still while Y/N checked his scent.

"She's checking to see if I'm part of the pack," Dick explained.

"I feel like a toy to the cats," Tim whispered.

Suddenly, Y/N stopped and pressed her small cheek against Tim's. "You're... not bad." Then she jumped into his lap.

Tim froze. "What do I do now?"

"Don't move, or she might bite you." Damian said seriously.

"Oh, that's cool," Tim said, carefully holding the little bunny, while everyone laughed.

After that, Tim suddenly became Y/N's favorite target. Wherever he went, she followed him in her bunny form, jumping on his shoulder or sleeping in his lap while he worked on the computer since he was the only one who didn't move much.

One day, Bruce came in to find Tim surrounded by piles of vegetables while Y/N enjoyed her meal at the keyboard.

"Tim, is this a mission report?" Bruce asked coldly.

"Yeah... but she ate half of it," Tim said, trying to salvage what was left.

Bruce looked at Y/N, who had stopped chewing and looked at him innocently. Then he took out his phone and took a picture. "I'll send it to the team."

"Bruce! No!" Tim protested, but he was too late.

By evening, he received a message from Barbara: "Finally, Y/N has found something worth chewing on other than computer wires!"

Even Jason sent a meme made with a picture of a disappointed Tim with the caption: "Ex-Robin vs. Rabbit... Who wins?"

Y/N, still perched on Tim's shoulder, rubbed her cheek against his in acceptance.

Tim sighed. "Well, at least I'm loved."

Y/N snuggled back into Tim's lap for another nap.

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