#Unless specified otherwise.

[radiance1]

Killer Croc and Jack Fenton are brothers.

Killer Croc was the first born, just a about 5 years older than Jack. Their father was a large man, much larger than should be possible considering he never had a meta gene.

But oh boy would it have not surprised them if he did. Because that man was strong, 10 feet tall, and shrugged off things that would injure most people.

Like a brick to the head.

Anyways.

Croc was entranced with his younger brother; he was so small so much tinier than he had any right to be, and cuter than a button. He babbled like most babies do, but Croc wouldn't think twice before calling his baby brother the best baby of them all.

His dad could fit him in the palm of his hand easily! Which was just one of Jack's many great qualities in his opinion!

Croc and Jack's parents weren't really on the best of terms, Croc could tell. He didn't know why, really, but he didn't want his baby bro to feel unloved in any sort of way, and it's not like he really had friends to hang out with, plus his parents were busy with jobs.

So he mostly spent his time taking care of and playing with Jack. Changing diapers, feeding him, lifting him up and down with his tail, just the normal sibling stuff.

He feels kind of bad for his dad though, whatever kind of job he had didn't even let him come home most days, and when he did he could barely even walk upright without falling asleep and jolting awake. He still made time for them, however, when he got those rare few off days.

He's honestly surprised that man managed to drive a car properly in the state he was in.

Their mother was often out of the house, Crocc didn't know what she was doing but he just thought it was like his dad. Unlike his dad, however, she didn't really like him. He didn't really know why, nor did he really care either if he was to be honest.

Around a year later the tension between their parents got so thick it could be cut with a butter knife. Then it turned to arguments in the rare times they both were in the house, he didn't even know his parents could make such cutting remarks to each other, and then both of them being in the house less than before.

Then when he turned 10, and Jack 5. They got divorced. Croc was left with his mother and Jack got taken by his father. His mother didn't take the divorce well, really, probably because at the same time she got fired from whatever the hell she was doing and was left jobless.

Then she dropped the bomb on his that his dad wasn't even his actual dad and Jack is only his half-sibling and then promptly abandoned him in the sewers with the rats and what was most likely very poisoned water due to it being the sewers and Gotham.

Well. Fuck.

Croc thinks that Jack doesn't even remember him due to how young he was, nor did he ever see his dad again cause, y'know, being abandoned in the sewers and all.

Then multiple years later he ran into his brother again and got DAMN was he tall. Not taller than him, but it was basically the equivalent of a gut punch to Croc, because he remembers his baby bro being so tiny, so baby.

He blames his father's genes for him being 8 feet taller now. A head shorter than him, sure. But he wants back his small baby bro alright.

Then he finds out his baby bro has a family.

And fuck did he not want to involve himself anymore in fear of being a catalyst for tearing said family apart due to being, well, him and all. Then he was promptly (quite literally) dragged over to meet said family despite his stance on the matter.

Then he finds out he's just treated like a normal person with zero amount of fear. His wife? She had to have a giant in her family too because she was 7 feet tall and was smart enough to kick his ass.

His daughter? 6 feet tall and their first meeting she accidently became his therapist. Also, he was sure she was a meta of some kind, probably something to do with wolves.

Then finally, their son.

It felt like he was thrown back to his childhood when he saw him, he looked so much like Jack did, and he was so, so tiny just like his baby bro was. He had to physically hold himself back from doing anything with the kid because he feared he would accidentally break him or something.

Then he found out that apparently his nephew was half-dead and that his brother and his wife hated ghosts with a passion, built a portal to the other side, had their city attack by the ghost king and then promptly found out about their son's half-dead status and had to do a major revamp of basically everything they knew and acted upon.

Which they're still working on.

Oh and also their daughter is a werewolf, she had a meta gene from someone of his dad's side and only recently activated it.

All of that which was a lot to take in for old Killer Croc, also he knew his niece had something to do with wolves.

So, Killer Croc in all of his life from the point of being abandoned at up to now, decided to go screw the bats and whatever they're attempts of figuring out what the fuck's going on with him (look at you Red Hood.) and decided to try and integrate himself into this family and brother's life again as best he can.

[dragonskulls]

a little design idea i had for a swamp/coast hybrid based off colorful fishing lures and the Nomeus gronovii fish. Still unsure on name but i know for sure they love fishing. Some stuff:

has an annoying amount of retractable venomous barbs (see: tail, spine, and fins)

got the trademark bright markings of swamp lurkers, including the iconic false eye in the wing, however she can't "color change" them like full lurkers do

his harpoon tongue is coated in venom that strangely enough seems to attract and lull fish, and resembles a hook more than a spear, as do the sickle index claws

the minis

[matchbet-allofthetime]

Little drabble with thoughts of MK11 Kung Lao smacking some ass because he's always in my head and god damn, he's got thick fingers.

GN reader! ✨

───────────── ⊱ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ⊰ ─────────────

Kung Lao, settling you across his knees, your hands helping brace you against his thick, strong thighs right as he's cracking a palm against your ass.

He's got big hands; he's never been a particularly small man.

Doesn't matter if you're shorter, or taller. He'll still give cocky, snarky little comments, but the tone of affection is never lost in his teases.

"Sweetheart... Can you take a few more for me?"

"Doing so well, aren't you?"

He's always got a hand seeking your ass, and perhaps you should've known he'd pull you over his knees one of these days.

Doesn't mean you expected him to swat at your ass until it stings, the sensation barely on the brink of just a little too much.

But it's good, endlessly so, and you struggle not to wiggle your hips back against him with each little hit he awards you.

If you can count for him and keep your numbers in order past the bite of pain mixing with all those moments he smacks just a little lower, he'll reward you with praises and him tenderly soothing his palm across your flesh, before being a bit mean again and smacking your flesh just to see it ripple once more.

He'll never get sick of his hands on you- and he's got an idea you'll never complain.

[catgirlbutthole]

women are allowed to be weird any horny towards me

[factorialsotherfandoms]

Pac wakes to the sound of someone stumbling into the room. Fit, just the other side of the bed, is awake but not moving; he follows his lead.

"Fuck!" it's Mike, it's only Mike, but he sounds terrible. "Fucking shit!"

There's the sound of Mike kicking the box he just walked into, and that's when Pac acts. He leaves Fit's arms, rolling over and flicking on the light.

"Mike?" he asks, rubbing sleep from an eye. "What's wrong?"

He's drunk. Pac can easily see that Mike is drunk, from the way he sways slightly and the slur in his voice. Richarlyson pops up beside him - Pac gestures for his son to go put himself to bed.

Richarlyson doesn't move immediately, but Mike does.

"Pac?" Mike asks. "Are you-?"

Despite the alcohol, there's a break in Mike's voice; Pac stands, and walks over, and pulls him into a hug.

"You're fucking drunk, bro," Pac says. "What's wrong?"

"He killed me," Mike replies, drunken rage quickly shifting to alcohol-fueled sobs. "He killed me!"

Pac clutches Mike a bit tighter, tugs him over to the bed. Fit has sat up, now, making room for them both.

"Who killed you?" Pac asks, even as he sits and forces Mike to curl at is side. "Mike, who hurt you?"

"Naked Slenderman," Mike hiccups, pulling more wine from his inventory; Pac is tempted to steal it, but knows already how that ends. "We were trying to banish him, but he locked us all in the Freddy Restaurant. Took people out one by one until it was just me, then he put this skull down and then this red axe-"

The shaking and tears take over. Pac himself is shaking too, clutching Mike a bit closer. Fit looks over from his comms, probably reading a surely mangled translation, and raises an eyebrow.

Pac shakes his head - not now.

Fit nods and quietly adds, "you're safe here, Mike; I'll just put Richas to bed."

The boy is not thrilled to be sent away with one dad still sobbing, but Fit herds him out anyway. There's a sign left behind, one reading 'Chayanne got back in and got him up. Ramon and I looked after him.'

Pac makes a note to thank the children in the morning; for now it's better they sleep.

He can't fix this - he can't. He doesn't understand the naked slenderman, for all it stalks and terrified him too. In the lamplight, in the night...

Pac hopes Fit is back soon, because he is definitely also scared.

"I think it's the guard I killed," Mike whispers. "I tried to give him back his badge, and he just sealed me in the sewer."

"The sewer?" Pac asks, before he remembers the teenage mutant ninja turtles area of the lower backrooms.

Mike nods, and whimpers, "once I lined up the photos the exit came back."

"Fuck," Pac replies, because what else can he say. "I won't let him get you Mike."

"I don't think you have a choice," Mike replies. "He's powerful. He's so powerful, Pac, he just dragged us around and not even Dapper's ritual could stop him! Dapper told me to start praying and I did and he killed me!"

"Does it still hurt?" Pac asks, because sometimes it does. He wants to help, to comfort, but his brain feels filled with fog.

A nod against his ribs; Pac pulls the blankets up to hide Mike, and holds him even closer.

"We can try new enchantments on your armour," Pac suggests. "Maybe...?"

Mike shakes his head - still drunk, still inconsolable, "one hit Pac! All my armour shattered and he killed me! We can't win. We can't win. He's going to take us!"

The hopelessness is in Pac's soul too - he pulls the blankets even higher, hiding himself as well.

"Even if he hurts us, we'll come back," Pac promises instead. "We always come back, always get out - no escape is impossible, remember? We just have to work it out."

Mike cries and trembles, and Pac continues to console him. While Mike stays hidden Pac's eyes flicker out, searching every corner of the room. He doesn't see it - there's no white, nothing like that, not again, but he can't help it! Even as he promises Mike they'll be okay his own heart rate picks up, searching out the creature - ghost perhaps - with a vendetta against him and his friend.

The door opens, and Pac shrieks.

Mike's sobs grow more desperate, clinging tighter as he does.

"Calm, calm," Fit uses a few of the Portuguese words he knows. "Just me. Richarlyson is asleep."

"Thank you, Fit," Pac replies on instinct, as he remembers how to breathe.

"You good?" is the reply.

Pac... Pac switches to English, because he wants Fit to understand. "Naked Slenderman is after Mike. It kidnapped him and killed him and kidnapped him again. I've seen it too - at the museum. We think it's after us."

He half expects teasing, but Fit's face turns serious.

"Let's push the bed against the wall. Pac? You go the far side. Mike in the middle. I'll guard the outside - the wall should guard your back."

It's better then just pretending to be a pile of blankets; Pac nods, and quickly translates the plan for Mike. Mike's English is just as good as his, but scared out of his mind... It's better, to be sure; Pac's struggling enough himself, and he's not the one who was stabbed.

It takes less convincing than Pac expected to convince Mike into pajamas. It's only as Pac remembers that, of course, Mike's armour was ruined and so he's just as vulnerable in all states.

Pac slips a few diamonds and enchantment books into Mike's backpack, just to be sure he'll be able to replace it in the morning. It might not be the best as Etoiles would define it, but it'll make something as good as is reasonable.

It is as Mike is being helped into something more comfortable - still clinging to Pac with every opportunity even if he is quieter now - that Fit shoves the bed to the wall, and Pac notices the new scar on Mike's chest.

A giant cleave, from the hollow of his shoulder all the way to his thigh and, damn, that's a painful way to die.

A painful way to die, and a horrific injury to survive.

Pac can imagine Mike on the floor, bleeding and in agony, screaming and calling for help in a sealed up room, pain blinding his senses until only a child can make it through a slowly widening hole to save him, anyone else too large - Mike screaming for Chayanne to get to safety instead, more willing to die than let a child be harmed... As soon as he thinks Mike will let him, Pac pulls him into the tightest hug he can manage, and onto the bed.

Mike stinks of cheap wine and other alcohol, but he's still Mike - he's Mike, he's Mike, he's /always/ Mike.

Fit leaves on the light as he comes to bed, pulling the blankets up over all three of them. Rolling onto his side he reaches across Mike to rest his hand on Pac's shoulder, and curls his body protectively around Mike's back.

Mike's safe now, or as safe as he can be - Pac shields his front and Fit his behind. They both hold him tight, secure he can't be taken.

"I've got you," Pac whispers the promise in soft Portuguese. "He won't take you from me."

Mike just nods against his chest.

"Good night Pac, good night Mike," offers Fit. "Sleep well."

Pac appreciates the sentiment, but doubts either of them will ever sleep again.

[batwynn]

A bit spicy, of the neuro kind.

(Full/clear version and sticker available on Patreon)

[of-nyon]

hc that Rodimus has OPINIONS about forging/smelting/smithing etc. Metalwork in general. Handy to have on hand in the specific situation where you are Drift and eying up a sword in some alien marketplace and you have your personal Knows Shit About Melting Metal Guy to weigh in on the quality of it.

[underthenightskydreamsneverdie]

Fanfic Masterlist

I write for Hogwarts Legacy and Criminal Minds

Explicit sexual content -🌶️ Fluff -🌸 Angst -❤️‍🩹

Hogwarts Legacy:

Hate that I now have to add that all characters have been aged up. If you are a minor, get the fuck out, this is not the place for you.

 Sharing is Caring stories in order: 

Everyone Has Needs - Ominis makes time to take care of himself 🌶️

Sharing is Caring - Ominis has an issue with Sebastian and f!MC. When Sebastian finds out what the problem is he talks with MC, wishing they could help Ominis Sebastian x f!MC 🌶️❤️‍🩹

Sharing is Caring chapter 2  - After a bit of denial the trio have a threesome Sebastian x f!MC x Ominis 🌶️❤️‍🩹🌸 

Sharing is Caring chapter 3 - The trio work to get Ominis out of an arranged marriage  Sebastian x f!MC, Sebastian x f!MC x Ominis 🌶️❤️‍🩹 

Sharing is Caring chapter 4 - A member of the HL gang finds out the trios secret  🌸❤️‍🩹

Other Sharing is Caring stories: 

We’re All Winners Here (aka untitled Quidditch story) - Sebastian and Ominis cheer on their girl 🌸

Precious Moments  - Ominis uses Polyjuice potion to witness special moments with Sebastian and f!MC 🌸

Oneshots/Other writings: (Most of these can fit into SiC before Everyone has Needs, but they can also be read as stand alone pieces!)

A Snack by the Lake - Sebastian gets a special snack from MC during a picnic Sebastian x f!MC 🌶️

A Snack by the Lake, Part 2 - MC gets a special snack from Sebastian during their picnic  Sebastian x f!MC 🌶️ 

A Snack by the Lake, Part 3 - Sebastian and MC have a nice ending to their picnic  Sebastian x f!MC 🌶️ 

The Green Imposter - Sebastian finds something interesting in MCs nightstand and puts it to good use Sebastian x f!MC 🌶️ 

Is That What You Want? - After a few drink and a day full of teasing, Sebastian gives MC exactly what she wants  Sebastian x f!MC 🌶️

Little Wolf - After taking out an Ashwinder camp, Sebastian and MC have some feral sex in the woods.  Sebastian x f!MC 🌶️ 

Daddy - The first time MC calls Sebastian Daddy and the first time he calls himself Daddy  Sebastain x f!MC 🌶️🌸 

Worth the Wait - Sebastian and f!MC have a sweet first time together (Not SiC related) 🌶️ 

Naughty Escapades and a Wily Temptress  - Sebastian and MC make a deal to wait until after taking their NEWTs to have sex, but MC can’t stop teasing him (Not SiC related) 🌶️ Sebastian x f!MC 

Ask and Headcannons:

 Sebastian and Ominis kinks

Sebastian and Ominis favorite positions/if they prefer head or penetration 

Sebastian and Ominis how loud they are/their dirty talk 

Sebastian and Ominis what their first times with f!MC are like 

How the trio became a throuple 

Ghost on the Shore - Sebastian Sallow HC 🌸

Daddy Dom Sebastian (Not SiC related)

The start of Sebinis from Sebastians POV 

Ominis knows nothing about girls and Sebastian is totally wiling to teach him (Not SiC related)

Sebastian and Ominis as Doms and Subs  

How Sebastian and Ominis react to MC dancing with another guy at the Yule Ball 🌸 

Life after Hogwarts with Sebastian and Ominis 🌸

Hogwarts Legacy Character Reactions: 

HLC react to MC asking them to have a threesome 🌸 

HLC react to MC taking them to a sex shop to pick out new toys and lingerie 

HL boys pick out lingerie for f!MC 

HL girls pick out lingerie for f!MC and she picks some out for them 

HLC react to being allowed to touch MCs face for the first time  🌸

HLC react to you flinching when they try to touch you for the first time 🌸

Criminal Minds :

Oneshots: Starving - Your boss, Aaron Hotchner, calls you into his office for an unexpected reason Aaron Hotchner x f!bau!reader 🌶️

Headcannons: Hotch loves to buy his lover fancy lingerie

[noitkot1]

s4!Scar's base is so cool and shelters all the dead Scars

Or all Life Series Scar's respawn in Scar's Frontier Outpost- or or, oh god all 5 Scar's are stuck together.

All throughout s4 Scar mentions something-something that Scar's Frontier Outpost is "a place for all Scar's to go!" This au is that, but Scar's Frontier Outpost is quite literal in its description. All Scar's that have died go there to rest. And happen to meet some of the other universe's version of themselves in death.

3rd!Scar waking up completely alone as the first, only with the cats to accompany him as he slowly wanders through this very not well lit up town. Only gaping at the TERRIBLE train track construction. Even if he is no expert a train track should not have a 90 degree turn! Of course half shirtless with a cat on his shoulder, or well guiding him. The place is abandoned to his eyes and- well. He's dead isn't he? Passed when Grian murdered him in the cactus ring, so this is his afterlife...

Its nicer than he had imagined it to be.

Then one day months and months later, there's a silly wizard in his bed with green, depressed eyes. And as he stares into a mirror, this replica-Scar sits up slowly, hands shaking with winces and the biggest frown ever. Looking towards the other Scar, his voice cracks during the sentence, "am I dead?" 3rd!Scar only does a quick nod, because while he assumed this is the afterlife, why would the afterlife have multiple versions of himself? He shrugs it off, probably better not to question it. It'll be nice to have some company.

Meanwhile LL!Scar is pulling his hoodie over his head and trying his best to be small and hide away. Because he was unrightfully- totally rightfully, it was a death game. A death game he did not sign up for- murdered. And now he's dead and seeing other versions of himself. It'd be a shock to anyone's system truly, and LL!Scar stares blindly as 3rd!Scar goes on a long babble, sitting down and petting one of the cats with a smile as he talks all about the local train in the area. A week later, the two have settled in and just exist. Because they're dead now and all they can really do is make the world more pretty.

This repeats for each one. After DL 3rd!Scar stops sleeping in the bed they keep spawning in, changing that room out to be more welcoming in a sense. After the mess that is DL, the one who somehow stays farther away from the "group" than LL did, the two give little concerned glances and raises of the eyebrow. That room has a big banner over the door reading "WELCOME TO SCARS FRONTEIR OUTPOST(AKA YOUR DEAD)", streamers hanging from the ceiling, and a red carpet added to the bottom. The entire room is restructured, and they add a chest full of essential items and a little note reading, "DISCONT FOR ONE SANDWICH!" and on the back it read all horribly scribbled out, "if youd like one more glorius sandwich, that will cost you one shoe!" DL got scammed through this, the two longer dead Scar's putting on smiles and demanding two diamonds for the amazing tour they gave the other. And somehow DL couldn't help the laugh that crackled from his chest, the others couldn't stop their snickers either.

SL and LL get along well, but either refuse to acknowledge why or talk about their past. Just when the other appears they connect.

LiL!Scar being like the youngest child. Definitely does the most pranks and gets along like a fire with everyone, but 3rd!Scar encourages his chaos. These two have definitely set off fireworks for fun on the anniversaries of their own deaths(LiL starting this tradition because he simply can. Bdubs and Cleo would've loved to see the pretty lights).

DL being the dramatic middle child... somewhere in there. He ends up being the most reserved even when LiL arrives. He's scared of making many connections and accepts his cats as his soulmates and his only friends. Said cats are also how the other two bring DL out of his shell. Making tons of the toys for the kitters and bonding over their equal love of the little guys.

They all deserve a little happiness in their endings somehow! A nice afterlife where they can thrive together and enjoy some bits of it after realizing they all aren't out to get each other, they're simply just... dead. Now all they have are the alternate universe also dead versions of themselves(this being pointed out over a campfire would make them snort).

[orchideae]

Starter call! Yep, you saw correctly. I've been making progress in my drafts, and I realized since it was mentioned the other day that I function a little better under pressure, so, yes.

These will be a little shorter (and I'm going to be a little strict with myself on that so that I actually get them written), so expect roughly a paragraph and if it stems from an idea that we've spoken about in plotting or whatnot, then it might be a little longer. But generally, they will be shorter starters that knowing me, will become lengthier threads as the replies progress! This is also welcome to non-Genshin blogs, but then please remember that I do not have any verses outside of Yelan's game canon, and so I'll be looking at your Genshin verses!

[dantesunbreaker]

Ditch of Despair

Papa Emeritus IV x Reader (based off me falling in a trench the other day, fluff, anxiety, hurt/comfort, 1.9k words)

You are working outside when you manage to trip and fall. But a certain Papa finds you and comes to your rescue!

Warm sunlight seeps out between a cover of thin wispy clouds reaching across the blue sky. Birds chirp their beautiful evening songs from the trees above. Sweat clings to your skin in a thin even layer, a single river trickling down between your shoulder blades to pool at the small of your back.

Luckily, despite The Clergy’s insistence that all Siblings of Sin are to wear uniforms, you had yet to encounter anyone who would enforce said dress code. And thank Satan for that. Otherwise you would have long since melted into a puddle under the sun. Wearing a pair of shorts and an all too big cut off shirt was all that was sparing you from the full brunt of the blazing Summer heat. Plans had been set to build a gazebo near their small pond in order to make the church grounds seem more lively and inviting. You happen to be among the Siblings tasked with making it happen.

Others had been with you through the day and afternoon, but without a supervisor to oversee their work, they all had decided to call the day early around 3PM. Ever the workaholic however, you were set on working until the expected 5PM cut off time. Even if that meant working alone. Why prolong a project more than is necessary? So, alone  you stand as you place a level along a cross beam that would soon make up the floor. A few minor adjustments are made before you are expertly securing the board into place.

Along the outer edge of the frame of the gazebo some of the Brothers have dug small trenches where Primo plans to plant some of his rhododendrons. You remain completely unaware of the uneven earth surrounding you. Okay okay, so maybe you did know about your Brothers digging around the worksite. But what’s the phrase? Out of sight out of mind?

Taking a step backwards as you are turning around surely isn’t your brightest idea, but you are already in motion before the thought crosses your mind. Big mistake. As your foot twists along with you, it catches the edge of one of the many ditches and has your balance immediately thrown out the window. Strings of curses spill from your mouth as your world begins to turn horizontal.

Your ankle hits first, exposed skin dragging along rough dirt until the flesh is pink and raw. From ankle to knee your shin burns with the friction along the disheveled earth you come crashing down upon. All too late for salvation, your palms catch the grass in a futile attempt to stop your already stalled momentum, right hand catching and slicing layers deep. Flat on the ground you lie as you wait for the thunder in your chest to cease. But it doesn’t.

Tears bubble at the corner of your eyes as you try to make sense of what’s up from down. Frustration fueled panic sets in, inducing your anxiety to cloud your senses. Stomach churning, you can’t bring  yourself to lift up and out from the shallow ditch. Can’t bring yourself to assess the damage. You are content to wallow in the makeshift grave until either the passing of the feeling of impending doom or Satan himself is ready to come claim you. Pressing your face down you try to let the soft grass kiss your cheeks and muffle the stutter of your quiet sobs.

“Caro, are you out here?” A breath hitches in your throat at the sound of a familiar accented voice. One you have grown to love, but one you dread to face in your current state.

Maybe, just maybe if you hold ever so still enough he won’t be able to spot you. But he isn’t that prehistoric. The last thing you want is your partner seeing you in such a sorry state. But you hear the crunch of footfalls through grass continues to creep closer. You can’t bring yourself to lift your head as the footsteps halt a few feet away.

“Napping on the job are we now, amore?” From an outsider’s view it surely looked as if you had stepped into the small hole and spread your upper half out amongst the grass.

You are somewhat sprawled out in an awkward way that if anxiety wasn’t killing you, you would find it quite comical as well. Kind of like a starfish clinging to the rocks of the tidepools. But we don’t always get what we want. Giving the single most pathetic whimper you have ever heard, you lift your head just enough to expose your big watery eyes and trembling bottom lip. Mismatched mirthful gaze turns somber within seconds as Papa Emeritus IV drops to a knee before you.

“Oh, caro, what happened? Did you take a tumble?” Copia speaks in such an easy soothing tone that is full of concern. At your nod, he gives the most heart wrenching frown. “May I see? Can you do that for me, amore?”

Stifling another sniffle you drop your face back into the grass but you lift  your stinging hand, outstretching it away from you. Leather clad hands grasp your hand in a feather light touch before delicately turning it palm up. A whine leaves your lips as a thumb brushes along what you can only assume is a large gash splitting your palm. 

“It’s not so bad topolino. Come take a look, si?” You really don’t want to, but as both thumbs move to rub gentle circles along your wrist you know that you have to. “Prometto, it truly is not as bad as you may think, amore mio.”

Sucking a deep breath in hopes it will provide the strength you require, you lift your head once again. Your eyes follow the same path as the mismatched pair before you to take in the damage.

“Oh...”

You feel just as small as you are sure your voice sounds in the moment. A mere two inch cut is what you see before you. Blood is clearly seen between the torn skin, but it is trapped below the surface of another layer of skin already sealed off due to the angle of the wound. Embarrassment flushes your cheeks as you drop your head and let out a pitiful wail. Tugging at your arm, you try to pull from Copia’s grasp to curl up in on yourself. But he holds fast.

“No, no none of that! There is nothing to be ashamed of mio dolce ragazzo!” His hands slide down your forearm to grasp just above the elbow. As you pause your retreat, Copia takes that as his go ahead to continue. “Will you come out so I may see all of you?”

Eyes lifting to meet those of your lover, you silently beg for him to lend you some of his strength. Sensing what you need, Copia gives  you a bright beaming smile that tells you without words that he believes in all that you are. Another whimper passes your lips, but in a way that communicates your appreciation.

Reaching your other arm out towards Copia, you wait for him to take hold and begin to move backwards. Half being pulled and half crawling, you manage to slither out of your pit of despair only to sprawl awkwardly partially in Copia’s lap. He hums and coos at you as he shuffles your limbs around until you are cradled perfectly between his legs and side pressed to his chest.

“That’s it,” Copia gives one of those old man sighs of comfort and content as he gives you praise and holds you to him. “Now let Papa see the rest, si? Let me take care of you.”

Nodding, still not quite ready to use your words, you press your face into his neck and point him towards your shins. Unlike your palm, your left leg looks a bit worse for wear. From ankle to knee your skin is a practically glowing shade of radiant pink. Patches of skin in areas are rubbed away and completely raw, oozing bits of blood and plasma. It will certainly be a big mess of scabs come the following day.

“You will be fine,” Copia’s soothing voice hums as one hand rubs up and down your bicep. “Just a few scrapes and booboos, nothing you cannot handle, si?”

Once again you nod, head tucked nicely into his neck. But that is all the answer Copia needs. Rather than pushing you before you are ready, Copia is content to simply hold you until you decide to tell him the chain of events that led him to finding you this way. Focusing on the steady rise and fall of his chest with breath puts you more and more at ease with each passing moment. Nuzzling once into his neck, you finally sigh and straighten your back.

“Are you ready to tell Papa what happened?” Copia’s voice regains his teasing tone as he takes note of your improved mood. It earns him a small giggle and soft elbow jab to the ribs. He takes it as a sign he has done his job.

“I uh... forgot that the others had dug out some holes for Primo’s flowers. And well, I kept working after they all decided to leave early,” your hands are moving and gesturing, conveying nothing really in particular as you explain your mishap. “So there I was making sure the board was level, then I stepped back as I was turning to grab something and... and well then I was in a ditch. It seems my clumsiness knows no bounds.”

All the while Copia listens intently, reassuring hands giving you a gentle squeeze whenever your speech begins to falter. When you’ve finished, he gives a nod and gains a look of being deep in thought. Holding you close to his chest, Copia lets his eyes meet yours before he speaks.

“I see, topolino,” a thumb reaches up to brush along your cheek. “Would you like for me to punish the other Siblings for abandoning their duties early? It is not safe to leave a Brother to work alone on the job.”

For probably too long you consider the thought. Sure, had the others been there you may have not fallen. Or even if you did, they at least would have been there to help you immediately instead of leaving you to wallow with frustrated anxiety.

“No, Copia,” you punctuate his name by placing a kiss along the bottom of his jaw. “Thank you for the offer though.”

“Are you sure? I know Sister Imperator would be more than delighted to subject  them to a weekend of work.”

Snaking your arms around your Papa’s shoulders, you smile and once more press your nose into his neck. Without a doubt you could see Sister full of glee at putting more work onto the shoulders of your Siblings.

“Yes, I am sure. It wasn’t their fault, and I just as well could have gone with them when they all left. But you know me, a big workaholic.” You feel the way Copia leans into your touch. “However,” you break the brief pause of silence. “I would love it if a certain Papa were to carry me back to his room to get cleaned up...maybe even to share a hot bath with.”

Happy chuckles leave your partner as he slides an arm under your legs. A small giggling scream leaves you as you are lifted into the air as Copia stands. Though you hear the creak of his old joints, he shows no signs of strain or discomfort under your added weight. 

“That I can arrange, amore mio,” you don’t miss the eyebrow wiggle he gives before setting towards his room at a more than walking pace.

[butchfeygela]

its never been easy to convince goyim, especially white christain goyim, to take antisemitism seriously, esp if they can hand wave the dog whistle away as a joke (like the fact you guys refuse to stop using the aryan wojack) but i definitely have noticed that non palestinian goyim, and often non-arabic goyim in general, have like decided tht antisemitism isnt a big deal and its just pedantic 'well actually'ing to bring it up, because of zionists co-option of antisemitism for their genocidal ends

like why ime do palestinians, actively undergoing a genocide by jewish supremacists, care more abt confronting real antisemitism than goyim that are supposedly allied to the palestinian cause? like especially considering israel actively uses antisemitism from white christains as justification for needing a jewish ethnostate. i just think yall should being pulling more weight in confronting that material reality. like if i hear one more white goy at a protest yell at zionist jews in the US to 'go back home' im gonna lose it! not only is that going to be attributed to palestinians by bigots, its just straight up the same antisemitism that has driven jews out of their homes for centuries, creating the conditions for white supremacy to be able to co opt jewish fears for their own ends

if your not in israel and youre a christain or a culturally christain atheist, your oppress jews and its part of your responsibility to confront antisemitism. otherwise you cede figjting antisemitism entirely to zionists who only care abt being big enough fascists to not feel vulnerable to the threats of the world

[angclnumber]

𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑪𝑨𝑳𝑳 !

here to say that i want even more sapphic stuff so i want to get some thing going with the muses under the cut ! if you are interested in a starter from any of them then please like this post ! ♡

𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑬𝑺 .

DAWN MENKEN LIAW / director / bi / she + they / chase sui wonders

born in amsterdam and ( mostly ) raised in new york and has the weird accent to prove it, brought up by the world’s grumpiest old man and it shows, mother owns one of europe’s most successful talent agencies, guitarist in all girl punk band called atomic boob as a side gig, painfully pessimistic, a tortured artist trying to make it in the film industry, has an attitude problem tbh, janis ian coded .

HAVEN MAURY LIANG / weather girl / queer / she + they / havana rose liu

local weird girl who will flirtatiously read your palm at a party, has big dreams of joining cirque du soleil as a trapeze artist and is simply forecasting the weather until then, in love with love and everything to do with it while simultaneously being a commitment-phobe, victim of the perfect little rich girl to quietly disowned pipeline, the vibe of a drunk girl in a club bathroom, a lil ty lee inspired .

ROMINA ESCOBAR / reality tv star / lesbian / she + her / camila mendes

a part of a family reality show inspired by the kardashians, deeply codependent and therefore painfully loyal to those she deems deserving, more than kind of bratty, vain, and self absorbed, hates men and is loud about it, is probably the last one to figure out her sexuality because doesn't every gal just want to makeout with her bffs sometimes ? mildly inspired by jennifer check .

RUTH RANSOM / actress / bi / she + her / kristine froseth

daughter of a washed up rockstar and his groupie, mommy and daddy issues ( double homicide ), ran away from home at seventeen, energiser bunny adjacent girlie who never shuts up, the world's biggest flirt with the world's biggest commitment issues, stumbled into the world of acting half hungover and still in last night's glittery makeup, manic pixie dream just a girl inspired by penny lane.

SLATER KATZ  / rockstar / lesbian / she + they / ruby cruz

born and raised in australia, replacement child to an incredibly well off couple who wanted to save their marriage , has had a prodigious talent with music from childhood, has daddy issues, mommy issues, and anger issues, painfully obtuse with feelings, does not know how to talk to people, tends to hit first and ask questions later, never has an empty bed, billy dunn and daisy jones coded .

𝑻𝑬𝑺𝑻 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑬𝑺 .

ELM MOSSBACH  / museum tour guide / queer / she + they / taylor russell

works for a small museum in a small town in the middle of nowhere, generally the kind of place that people stop by for gas on their way to somewhere better, very much suburban gothic inspired in terms of environment . does she work at an oddities museum ? maybe so . longs for adventure but feels stuck, wants to get out of this town .

FELICIA 'FLICK' RELF / actress / bi / she + her / madelyn cline + meghann fahy

was in a mystery inc crew when she was a teenager and is the star of a limited series inspired by their exploits, is seen as a sellout by the other members of that crew but does it really matter if she's famous ? grew up in a motel as the daughter of the deadbeat parents who owned it, swears all the supernatural stuff in their stories is all fake, but was it really ? semi inspired by scooby doo and the x files .

KINSLEY 'KIDNEY' BEAN  / petty thief / bi / she + her / abigail cowen

raised by two parents who had too many kids to truly give a fuck about all of them, the only girl in a hoard full of brothers, has the accent of a southern belle and the charm to match, will use that charm to walk away with your wallet, has never been single for more than a few weeks in her life, responsible for more than a few gas station hold ups, inspired by villains ( 2019 ) and bandits in general .

LORENA FONTBONA  / grad student / queer / she + they / jenna ortega

drenched in dark academia vibes but exclusively the weird ones, family owns a successful board game company that a lot of them are convinced they made a deal with the devil for but ren has their doubts, a legacy in a secret society, game theory student who reluctantly plans to take over the family business, a natural cynic, april ludgate coded and semi inspired by ready or not .

OCTOBER 'TOBI' CRAFT  / f1 racer / lesbian / she + they / margaret qualley

white trash golden retriever, grew up in a trailer park without a lot of prospects so even she's surprised that she got this far, raised by a father that specifically always wanted one of one of his sons to race ( surprise, dad !), got discovered by chance while street racing ( allegedly ) and hasn't looked back since, can't go to a gay bar without running into at least five girls that she's slept with .

RAVEN ZHAO  / gas station attendant / bi / she + they / courtney eaton

final girl of death valley, nevada and no one will let her forget it, born as the child of a obsessive occultist and his lovesick wife and was abandoned by both respectively, spent most of her adolescence living in an abandoned 'cursed' church and ergo was the town's very own social pariah ( and the first scapegoat ) for it, refuses to go to therapy even if the killer ended up being her own mother .

WREN 'OZ' OSWIN  / athlete / lesbian / they + them / brigette lundy paine

raised by a couple of zoologists who named all of their children after animals and dragged them around the world for their work, one of seven kids, grew up homeschooled and therefore chronically online in search of community and it shows, a goober who just happens to be tall and surprisingly athletic, the world's biggest romantic but they try to keep that on the low, in the wnba .

WYATT KILMER  / student / lesbian / she + they / sophie thatcher

was the favourite child of the worst father in the world which sucked but happens to come in very handy in the zombie apocalypse, was taught to hunt under the guise of bonding, lost almost their entire family at the start of the apocalypse but is searching for their little brother, was the first person in their family to go to university but does that matter now ? deeply ( and reluctantly ) protective .

ZIAZAN 'ZI' DERIAN  / mortician / lesbian / she + her / angela sarafyan

grew up working in her family's funeral home and always knew she would inherit it, has a passion for her work that was also inherited, deeply romantic in an only mildly creepy way ( most of the time ), almost always finds herself going for the crazy ones, writes gothic literature under a pseudonym, vaguely inspired by morticia addams and lisa frankenstein .

[jgracie]

omg also i never talk ab him but … luke castellan 🫣

[hlvrai-stuck-together]

He's late.

It's the big day, and he's already fucking it up. Awesome. Leave it to Gordon to continuously make everything harder for everyone around him.

Under stress, panicking, and annoyed to hell and back, he pushed the cart into the beam. As soon as the crystal touched the laser, it sparked, electricity zapping out across the large chamber. Smoke started to rise from the machine, and the creak of radiation filled the air.

Gordon took a few steps back, looking up at it in horror. Shit, they did it too fast, didn't they? They could hear their coworkers screaming behind them, but their attention was locked on the giant machine.

The security guard who'd followed him in suddenly vanished from his peripheral. Gordon looked away for just a moment to try and find him again- there! Standing on top of the platform where the controls were, there was the "non-human" guy who'd been following him all day. The radiation beams were shooting right next to him, ohh fuck he was going to die up there.

"Get off the top of the- you're gonna wanna be on the floor, what if the fuckin' rafters fall?!" they shouted up at him. "You gotta-"

With a flash of light, the test's sample started glowing an intense, neon green color, cutting Gordon off. He threw his hands up over his eyes, catching a glimpse of the chat as he did so. He couldn't make out any of the words, but he could see that people were speaking in all caps now. He yelled a swear at the pain.

He spun around to look at the window, shouting for help, only to watch helplessly as one of the other scientists overseeing the project launched himself down into the chamber. He shouted in fear, running around in panic before seemingly tripping over his own feet and knocking himself out on the floor.

The guard was just fuckin' gone by now. He must have gotten trapped in the beam or something, there was no way to tell and no time to find his body. The crystal started rocking in the cart, and with each shift there came another explosion, with atoms crashing into each other and splitting in ways that should not have been possible with humanity's current tools. Gordon could only look up at it, frozen in fear.

With one final shift of the crystal, it shattered. With it went the whole experiment, lighting the entire room up in harsh green. Gordon threw his hands up in front of him, screaming as his world was changed forever.

Then... nothing.

Gordon blinked a few times, looking around themself at the pitch blackness that had enveloped his world. He couldn't even see himself in it.

...Was he dead?

No, that couldn't have been right. He was still breathing, right? That had to count for something.

He squinted into the dark, trying to see anything. As his eyes adjusted, he swore he could see faint lines of green running lengthwise down his vision. Whether that was caused by the bright light of radiation or if that was actually SOMETHING, he couldn't tell yet.

He opened his mouth to yell, but instead of screaming out into the dark like he'd planned, he let out a simple, friendly greeting.

"Howdy."

No one answered him.

As his eyes continued to adjust, he began to make out what the lines were- numbers. They were lines and lines of numbers, wrapping all around him.

...Where was he?

"Howdy," he continued to call out. "Howdy. Howdy. Howdy. Howdy."

Still, no answer.

The world around him began to flash, green as the radiation from the test gone wrong. Gordon spun around, trying to find the source of it. The numbers lit up under the flashing lights- illuminated by shots of lightning- ones and zeros.

It was the same light from the Resonance Cascade. Aw fuck, was he still in the test chamber? Shit, he had to wake up, he was going to get hit.

He struggled to move, only to realize there was a pull on his arm. Looking towards it, he could see green strings attached, pulling him nowhere and in five different directions at once. It hurt, oh GOD it hurt, but no amount of pulling was freeing him. He pushed against it with his left hand, his free hand, and no avail. Nothing.

Before he could do much else, the strings yanked, and with this tug went his hand. He screamed in pain and surprise, everything going dark again, but only briefly.

He was in the garbage compactor. His hand was gone.

He wanted to stop, but something compelled him forward. He wanted to lay down and go back to sleep, but something wouldn't let him. He wanted to give up. Something in him made him grit his teeth.

He kept going through Black Mesa, lead on by Tommy this time. He wanted to collapse. Something forced his legs forward.

He kept getting kicked back down when he tried to climb out of the water, the clone's heels relentless. He yelled for Tommy, trying in vain to pull himself out. He only could with Tommy's help.

His friend was caught up in the tide of clones, too, and was quickly shoved away from Gordon. The shots from his gun continued to echo through the room, adding to Gordon's massive headache.

"I've unleashed the power of all 300 clones," Dr Coomer's voice boomed from somewhere. It was near impossible to tell if he was far away or close by with all the noise. Gordon's head swiveled quickly, trying to pinpoint where the hell he was.

"There's an entrance in your suit, Gordon, AND I WANT IN."

There! He was shoving his own clones aside, slowly making his way closer. He had the look of a crazed man about him, eyes too wide, grin too large. He was shaking, too, like he was high on adrenaline.

Green lines were starting to creep along the walls, down down down like a watercolor painting. Gordon squeezed their eyes shut, shouting Tommy's name.

He was backed into a corner, swarmed by clones as the real- main?- Coomer crept closer and closer. "I've been outside Black Mesa, Dr Freeman. There's nothing there. But you..." He shoved his way in front of Gordon, grabbing his stub of an arm. "I KNOW there's a world in your dreams, AND I NEED TO GO THERE."

Gordon screamed.

Berdey shot up, startled out of xeir nightmare. Fuck... nightmare. At least it wasn't real.

Just to be sure, they pinched themself. Yep. That hurt.

They flopped back down on the bed with a sigh. Gordon could never escape these, either- of COURSE Berdey would inherit them from him. Couldn't catch a break, in this life or the next.

It was still dark under the door, implying the darkness outside, too. Night. Well, they didn't wanna go back to sleep, not after that.

Looking at xeir left hand, they saw no new messages aside from the "goodnight"s that had been there before they drifted off.

They didn't wanna get up, but they also wanted to check on Coomer, just to make sure he was okay. Gordon had never managed to figure out what the fuck he'd meant by the whole "world in your dreams" thing. His dreams were a nightmare. Literally this time around. Why would Coomer want to go there?

It was anxiety talking. Coomer hadn't brought it up in a long time. Maybe he'd finally gotten over it. Besides, he didn't exactly want to see him right now.

With a sigh, he laid back down. It was gonna be a long night.

[frostfairysteve]

which one do you like more: ftm steve or mtf steve? or the special third option oOoOo

The secret third option is that I love femme Steve the most, be it ftm!Steve realising it doesn't make him less of a man to enjoy femininity, nb!Steve finding themselves, or mtf!Steve realising that she doesn't have to be "Steve Harrington" if she doesn't want to, and she doesn't.

I do think that there isn't enough amab representation in any fandom spaces, so while I as a ftm person do love seeing ftm!Steve, it's not my preferred way to go for my own ideas.