#but id just like the feeling of physically putting on the thing to play

[imflyingfish]

Going through another phase of wanting to buy a record player verses being unsure if i should

[thebibliosphere]

I was just playing gotham knights again and noticed some passive dialog regarding Babs having a back brace, which is at least acknowledging that there was damage done, but I'm a little sad for the loss of some really cool disability representation. What are your feelings on her (and on a similar note Batman's) miraculous recovery from paralysis in DC?

I think Gotham Knights handled her disability fairly well, considering this is a universe where magic, nanobots, and puddles of evil green goo that can heal the dead exist. All things considered, it would have been very easy for them to either erase it entirely or just handwave and say, "She worked really hard and got better," as previous iterations of the canon have done.

Because she did work hard and get better, but the hard work is ongoing because they depict her issues as chronic.

She's got a limp (it's the most obvious in her Talon suit with no cape in the way), which means she can't rely on speed or high kicks like the others can (I mean, she can kick, but it's her slowest motion, and until you max out her suit, it's the most liable to get her thrown to the ground), so she falls back on precision and her tech.

Jason punches for maximum pain, Dick moves with dizzying speed, and Tim's gonna sneak up on you and drop you like a rock, but Babs is going for the pressure points with ruthless precision. Not to mention her drones.

The conversation with Tim, realizing she might need help boosting her suit to compensate for her pain/strength issues, is a nice little way of making the player aware that she's got these ongoing problems because, honestly, a casual observer could mistake her back brace for athleisure wear if they didn't recognize the shape of it. It's also a good way of throwing in some exposition about how she's still going to physical rehab and that her PT would like her to "wean off" her back brace, but because her PT doesn't know her actual job as a vigilante, Barbara admits she can't and is essentially finding ways to manage her own care and create her own accommodations. Accommodations which they are all shown to be willing to help with.

It's a nice little touch when superhero narratives tend to revolve around self-sacrifice to the point of self-destruction. Alfred giving Dick into trouble for pushing himself too far and hiding injuries is a nice touch, too, even if it's like trying to bail water on the Titanic with a teacup.

I also like that not only do you see her wheelchair lurking around the Belfry—along with the disability adaptations they put in place, like the ramps, the wheelchair elevator, and the desks that move up and down to wheelchair height—but that she also still uses her chair from time to time.

[ID a screenshot from Gotham Knights showing the Belfry. Light streams in through a giant clockface, showcasing a bank of computer screens. In front of the screen, Barbara Gordon is using her wheelchair as Dick Grayson stands behind her, probably making a bad pun.]

Whether she's using it because she's tired or simply because it's more comfortable than the computer chair is never revealed. Nor is it brought up or commented on. It's just something that's normal for Barbara to do, and I like that. I like that it's normal. It's not a part of herself she's trying to erase. She works with it, not against it.

Is it perfect? No. Do they outright erase her disability like so many of the comics are guilty of? Also, no. I'd argue that, in fact, they kept her disability. They just changed the nature of it.

Barbara now has a dynamic disability, one which fluctuates and requires different management based on her day-to-day (or night) activity. She's in active treatment for it and will be for the rest of her life. Are some of the physical feats she achieves realistic for someone with an injury of her nature? Not really, but again, this is a world where nobody stays dead, and there are zombie assassins coming out of the walls. I'll take the attention to detail and care they put into her story any day over the "Willpower Fixed My Spine" narrative we could have gotten.

As for Bruce getting healed by magic, again, it's Batman. Comic book logic is wibbly-wobbly at the best of times, and realistically speaking, they couldn't leave Batman paralyzed. His whole deal revolves around being stealthy and punching the shit out of people. He wouldn't be Batman anymore, and frankly, I don't trust the comic writers as far as I could throw them to handle that right.

By contrast, the Gotham Knights writers handled Barbara with much more care and nuance than I ever expected. And I'm thankful for that.

---

*I also like that both Dick and Barbara are often shown wearing joint braces. Dick's are especially reminiscent of the way gymnasts and people with hypermobility tape their joints to reduce pain and prevent injuries. It's a nice little touch. They're not invincible. Their bodies hurt. They're just like me but with money and much bigger problems like giant killer robots and zombie assassins.

[bodyhopper-files]

Body Hopper Files: Mateo

My stomach churned and my mind spun as I found myself in a new body. Again. It was a familiar feeling, but it never got any less disorienting. I had no control over these spontaneous jumps from one person's life to another's. For the past two months, I had been living as a quiet college professor. But now, who was I? Where was I?

I took in my surroundings with a quick glance: a busy kitchen filled with people moving all around. I felt young, definitely younger than the professor. How young, though? Looking at my hands, I saw light brown skin and some tattoos on my arms. My uniform was black and stained with food, an apron tied around my waist. In my pocket, I found a phone that unlocked with my new face as the ID. I switched quickly to the camera and saw myself for the first time; a cute face with full lips and scruffy facial hair greeted me. Probably around 19 years old. Not bad, not bad at all.

Putting the phone away, my next instinct was to feel myself up through the fabric of my uniform. A nice long and thick surprise awaited me in between my legs - a big new sausage to play with. It was quite the contrast from the professor's more modest middle-aged penis (not that I'm complaining! I've grown to appreciate all types of genitalia during these random body switches).

Suddenly, a stern voice called out behind me - Mateo's boss, probably. "Mateo! Get back to work! And stop taking selfies!"

Shit, I was about to get this kid in trouble if I didn't start pretending to be him real soon.

I quickly straightened up and turned to face my boss, trying to play it cool. "Sorry sir, just checking the time," I said with a sheepish smile. I figured I was young enough I could still play it cute and get away things like that.

He grunted in response and turned his attention back to the food he was preparing. With a developed skilled I’d picked up from so many random body hops, I returned seamlessly to Mateo’s daily work, navigating the busy kitchen with ease, knowing exactly what needed to be done and when. It was clear that he was well-liked by his coworkers, who joked and laughed with him throughout the shift. Despite the long hours and physical demands, Mateo loved his job, and before long I felt the same youthful passion as I helped the line cooks out, bussed tables, and flirted with the waitresses. It was all in a night’s work for Mateo.

Before I knew it, closing time neared and the orders slowed. I untied my apron, wiped sweat from my brow and headed to the break room for a much-needed rest before the restaurant closed. Sinking into a plastic chair, I pulled out Mateo's phone again. There were dozens of notifications - mostly messages from friends and family wondering how he was doing in the big city. But I was more interested in his dating profiles.

As I scrolled through the apps, I couldn't help but chuckle at some of the messages he'd been receiving. There were dirty one-liners, shirtless selfies, and even a few invitations to kinky encounters. Mateo clearly had a way with the guys! I responded to a few messages, using his usual flirty tone, all the while feeling that big new sausage throbbing underneath Mateo’s dirty workwear. It wasn’t likely that I’d be spending the night alone, given how some of the men I’d messaged in Mateo’s apps had responded.

"Good work today, Mateo," the head chef called out as he walked by, giving me a friendly pat on the back. I smiled and nodded, trying my best to act natural and turn attention away from my raging boner.

The restaurant finally closed for the night and everyone began to clock out. I made sure to say goodbye and thank all of Mateo's coworkers, who were all too eager to invite me out for drinks. It was tempting, but I had bigger plans for my first night in this new body.

I made my way to the locker room, quickly changing out of my sweaty work clothes along with all the other restaurant staff and into street clothes for a night out. Mateo's phone buzzed with another notification - it was one of the guys I'd been messaging earlier. He wanted to meet up at a nearby bar.

Feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, I headed out into the city streets and made my way towards the bar. As I walked, I couldn't help but soak in the feeling of being young and carefree again. It had been so long since I had felt this way, as most of my recent host bodies had been older men with their own set ways and responsibilities. But as Mateo, I could be whoever I wanted to be - a young, attractive guy, new to the city with his whole life ahead of him.

I arrived at the bar and spotted my date sitting at a booth in the corner. He looked just as good as in his pictures; an attractive young man about Mateo’s age but with a larger, more dominant physique. He waved me over eagerly as I approached, giving me an appreciative once-over.

"Hey there, Mateo," he said with a grin as we awkwardly hugged hello.

"Hey," I replied with a flirty smile that came naturally in this body.

We settled into our seats and ordered drinks, chatting about our lives and interests as I delved into Mateo’s memories and personaltiy. As we talked, he reached across the table to brush his hand against mine, sending shivers down my spine. His touch was electric against Mateo's skin.

The conversation eventually turned more flirtatious as our drinks continued to flow. My hands trembled slightly as I leaned in closer to his, my heart racing with anticipation.

“Mateo, do you want to come home with me?”

Finally, it was time for me to give into the urges of the body I now possessed. I smiled seductively and said "I'd love to."

We quickly paid our tab and headed out into the night, his arm wrapped firmly around my waist. As we walked, I could feel Mateo's young, toned body tingling with excitement at the prospect of what was to come.

When we arrived at his apartment, he led me straight to the bedroom, kissing me passionately as we tumbled onto the bed. I eagerly returned his kisses, reveling in the feeling of stubble against Mateo's soft skin.

We had a wonderful evening together, fucking again and again with seemingly unlimited stamina, and then laughing and talking late into the night. I felt comfortable and at ease in Mateo's body, like I could truly be myself, even though I knew I was just a pretender. As it got later, we cuddled up close and fell asleep in each other's arms.

The next morning, sunshine streamed in through the window as I slowly awoke. For a moment, I had forgotten I was in Mateo's body. As I looked around the unfamiliar room, the memories of the night before came flooding back. I smiled thinking about the fun we'd had.

I couldn't help but think my time as Mateo was going to be great. As long as was him, I'd have an easy job that he absolutely loves and hook up with hot men every single night! ----- ----- -----

Original story and AI Illustration by @bodyhopper-files

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 | Part 5

A smile from you is all he needs to feel recharged.

Tags/Warnings: Game Designer!Jungkook, Non Idol AU, established relationship, Angst , emotional kook, suggestive messages, poor Maria pt.1 [Tags will be different for every part!]

Length: 1k Words

There is no taglist for this fic.

Collab with @euphoricfilter ! 💜

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

This is not going to plan at all.

Not only is he behind schedule wise, he's also not thought about the possibility of what this all might look like to you at all. Because why would you even think that in the first place? He'd be absolutely stupid to cheat on you, let alone with a 64 year old married woman of all people!

But then again, you don't know that part- and he also can't really properly explain it as he would surely blow his own cover, and he's just too close to the finish line to give up now. He already almost cried at deleting your face ID and fingerprint from his phone, feeling like he deleted the memory of setting those things up too, but he swore himself it's for a good cause down the line. You'll make so many more memories together for sure, and they'll top those more than by just a little. He'll make sure that they will.

[Alright, I'm so excited! Next time let's do it this way right from the start- no need to make it so complicated!] Maria had wrote him in full, and he reads over it with a bit of worry. Does she really understand what he meant by his worries?

[I'm not sure you understand. I'm planning something big, and I'm also behind when it comes to physical intimacy these days, you know?] He writes the woman, who he's asked prior about the rules and such regarding.. well, sex in the home he's renting out for the upcoming special occasion he's planned. He doesn't want to get locked up for not following some Airbnb laws he overlooked after all. That would just be embarrassing. [And we're very intimate people. I'm taking her pleasure and happiness seriously, if you get the hint.] He texts her as he boils some water on the stove for his absolute accurately made ramyeon.

[Oh trust me, I've been young too! No need to be shy, I can only imagine that emotions will run high most likely!] She responds, and Jungkook pursed his lips for a second, before he starts to play with his piercings deep in thought.

[No, Maria, I don't think you get it-] he begins to type. [-it's been almost two full weeks at this point, that's the longest we've ever gone without any sex, we're talking at least three orgasms a day times fourteen, I've got some major catching up to do..] jungkook sends her, before he puts his phone down for a second as to prepare the instant noodles properly.

[It's fine, really. No need to worry!] The woman responds. But jungkook wants to make sure.

[She's a squirter- you know what that is right? Either way it's gonna get messy so I'm just making sure you REALLY know what you're getting into if you say it's alright because the carpet looked really nice and I'm not sure how to get cum stains out of that] he rambles, not noticing you emerge from the bedroom now as you put your bag on one of the kitchen chairs. [I can replace it too if that happens no problem, you know how my girlfriend gets haha. Well you don't but you will know after we're done with the place-] he taps and accidentally sends out as you call his name, causing him to almost drop his phone into the soup pot on the stove, only barely catching it in time before he can practically throw it into the pocket of his sweatpants. "Yeah?" He asks towards you, and you look at him still way too hostile in his opinion.

He knows you can be a bit of a hot head. It's what he loves about you- how fierce you can get and how you'll always stand your ground. But he also knows that you're a bit of an aklebiter with some serious anger issues sometimes- once you see red, you don't see anything else anymore. So he's got to be careful not to fuck it up any further, because once he loses you, he loses for good.

Because you're stubborn if you've made up your mind.

"The water's boiling over." You mumble, avoiding his gaze as you sit at the kitchen table, arms crossed in defense. He jumps at your words and turns off the stove at that, somewhat awkwardly playing up some food into bowl for the both of you, watching you eat silently across from him with an almost needy gaze.

You're gonna probably try and kick his balls if he asks you to sit on his lap right now, so he swallows down the request to keep them intact.

He's gonna seriously crunch some hours while you're sleeping over at a friend's house so he can still make the deadline, able to pass up on sleep with you not actually home to scold him for it. He hates the fact that the app on his phone constantly reminds him of the lack of intimacy between you two- taunting him with notifications about his streak being broken, his record being topped, his spot up top on the scoreboard being taken. He hates it. He created this app, he should be the one who's best at it too!

God he can't wait to get his hands on you again. He feels like his dick is going to fall off in the next few days.

And it's not just that, either. He doesn't sleep well when you're not with him, he misses all the interactions you usually have during the day, the love, the intimacy of just being close, he misses it so bad. And he kind of doesn't want you to leave right now- he'd love to just call it quits and just cave in, but he's come too far now, and you're also a strong independent woman. You deserve to choose where you want to go or stay, he's got no say in that- or at least he shouldn't try to have it.

"I.. You'll text me when you wanna come back home, right?" He asks as he finishes his bowl, and you shrug.

"Whatever." You mumble. "S' not like you want me home for more than the chores anyways." You huff into your food, and he can't help but feel his eyes tear up. No, stupid Jungkook, don't fucking cry right now. You're gonna ruin it all with your dumb tears and weak heart just like always-

"I do want you home.." he mumbles quietly, blinking harder to avoid you spotting anything off- but you notice. Of course you do.

"...I'll text you." You say, and that at least soothes his mind for the moment as his phone falls out of his pocket, screen cracking and making him cringe.

Fuck. That's the what.. 20th time this year?

But it's all worth it, if it means he can at least see the hint of a smile pull at your lips for once.

The sight alone motivation enough to make him work even harder now.

[trashmouth-richie]

eddie x Fem! Reader

honey I’m home masterlist

TW: 18+ hospitals, trauma, crying, etc

A/N: this is a short little chapter. the next one will be longer— thank you for hanging onto this story even though it took me forever to get it started. I have most of the next chapter done so it’ll probably be posted next week.

The blue and red lights are blinking in rapid succession. Painting the curtains in washes of ruby and royal. 

  The sirens should have been loud but Eddie figured it was the blood trickling down his head and into his ear canal that was preventing him from hearing clearly. 

  He fought with the first responders. 

  Fought with the people fussing over him and trying to rush him into an ambulance. 

  He refused to leave you. 

  He didn’t need to be cared for. 

  He didn’t care about anything. 

  Only you.

  Mr. Derry’s loud knock and burst through the door was the exact distraction needed for Eddie to grip the bat in his bloody hand. 

  Rings squeezing tight around blood and the wooden handle, he swung hard. A suddenly athlete in a smokers body. He felt the thuds and friction vibrating in his forearms when the nailed head connected with flesh. But he didn’t stop until there were two crumpled bodies collapsed on the red stained carpet. 

  And when the ambulance crew met him at the door, gurney ready, you were wrapped tight in his arms. A faint pulse echoed like a whisper against your skin. Eddie’s tears streaming down his face and onto yours. 

  His promise pressed delicately to your lips.

—

  “What have we got?” 

  “According to the patient’s friend, she is twenty-one-year, sir! you need to be looked at, and lived by herself for the past few months..” 

  I’m fine! Jesus— get off me and help her! 

  “…call came in at 2208 from a Mr. William Derry— the neighbor— claiming there were screams coming from across the street of his residence on Cherry Lane. Dispatch didn’t think to respond right away due to the many calls Mr. Derry has submitted to the Police Department.”

  “Sir, I am not telling you again, you need to be checked out!” 

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “When nobody showed up, the neighbor went across the street after hearing more screaming. Patient was held up by her throat by the DOA”

  “Bill has him in truck 011, ID found on the body confirmed he was Chad Cunningham.” 

—-

Eddie is standing before you, looking the same has he did the morning g after Halloween. It’s similar but different. There’s more light in the kitchen, and he is rosy cheeked like a cherub, his movements almost floating like angel wings as he moves the carton of orange juice hp to his lips, small glints of a silver nipple ring peaking out from the cutoff shirt he wore. 

  When he speaks, it’s like a harp is playing, all song and beautiful notes, extending and echoing around the room. 

  “So when do I get this trophy sweetheart?” He says with a grin, “thinking of putting on a shelf in my room,” 

  Your laugh feels like butterflies tickling your stomach, “you can’t be serious.” 

  His head dips as he walks towards you, smile displaying the prettiest teeth, “damn straight, want the whole town to know I had the best costume!”

  “Stolen costume,”

  “Pppffft, I just borrowed it.” the wink he delivers is almost sinful, toothachingly sweet enough to give a dentist a cavity, and you melt on the spot. 

— 

“Miss? Can you tell us your name? Can you tell us anything?” 

  Sterile. 

  Chemical.

  You were either in a hospital or a morgue. You didn’t feel any pain so it very likely could be the worst of the two options. Whatever you were laying on was cold. And when you tried to move you found you couldn’t. 

  Is this death?

  Eyelids heavy and unable to cooperate and make the connection with your brain on flicking open so you could see what was happening. 

  The only thing constant was a buzzing in both ears. A tug along your eyelids and rubber glove fingers on your body. But you were trapped in your mind, unable to speak, to scream, to show any physical movements other than the involuntary rise and fall of your chest and your lungs being filled with oxygen, fed through flexible plastic of the oxygen mask placed on your face. 

  Oblivious to your surroundings. 

  “Severe trauma to both eyes, laceration to the back of the head, severe swelling and possible damage to the larynx, Katerina, what did the CT show?” 

  “CT came back clear, X-Ray showed a break to both zygomatic bones, 5th and 6th ribs and a lacerated spleen…”

  “Look at her nails, poor thing fought for her life,” 

  “they both did.” 

  You found the will to whisper what you needed to tell them. Voice hoarse and barely audible, removing the mask they look in horror back at your words, and  immediately the feeling of warm liquid entering your veins and the blur of sleep covers your body. 

—

  He visits you again, this time you know it’s a dream. The pink clouds flow behind his head even though you are standing in the living room. But it’s different, blurred on the edges, hazy sweet and refined. How heaven could be described. 

  “I look good in this don’t even lie,” Eddie says with a spin, the white cotton of your robe resembling a mini skirt on his long legs, “but if you want me to take it off all you have to do is ask, I’m a pleaser, baby.”

  He was every version of himself, handsome, gross and menacing. Sweet and caring, eye twinkling, soft voiced: Eddie. The beer taped to his hand like it was all those months ago when you splashed him awake, threatening to kick him out. 

  Delivering his classic one liners that you now knew helped fuel your love for him. 

  “What? Hair of the dog baby, gotta keep drinking to avoid a hangover.”

  And maybe your love for him was always there. 

  Showing up in the background, fluttering bird wings of your heart before you even noticed. 

  Developing into something sweeter, deeper, so heartbreakingly sick it took a disaster and almost the last pulse in your veins for you to be able to admit it. 

  -

Steve had been pacing the cream colored tiles for over thirty minutes. The squeak of his Nikes against the floor were something Eddie was trying hard to focus on instead of worrying about you in the ICU, but so far it wasn’t working.

  The nasal cannula was annoying, he could breathe fine on his own. The stitches in his eyebrow itched and stung with each weave through his skin, pulled taut around the swelling in his face. 

  The shot the nurses had administered to calm him down after screaming and trying to fight his way to you, was making his mind fuzzy— still, Steve’s pacing kept him company. Step step step squeak, step step step hand in hair, followed by an agitated huffing breath.

  A nurse with a long blond ponytail braided down her back opens the polyester curtain with a drag and slips inside the room. A black rubber and steel stethoscope around her neck, before she could introduce herself Steve exploded with fury. 

  “Tell me what the hell is going on in this poor excuse for a hospital, right now!” Steve’s hair shook from its feathered position when he spoke, his demanding voice booming across the tiles. 

  Without missing a beat and clearly dealing with high strung men before she said almost monotonously, “Sir, you need to calm yourself down, this is a h-”

  But Steve’s fire was only fueled by her dismissive tone, his voice never wavering, “No, I will not calm down! The police were made aware of this situation a year ago and nothing was ever done!” 

  The police officer standing outside guarding entry to the room tipped his head in slow, “Mr. Harrington, we hear your complaints but there isn’t anything we can—”

  “Bullshit!” A tear stain cheeked Robin sobbed, her face red and blotchy from hours of crying and rubbing her freckles clean, “Eddie told you what happened yet he’s still cuffed to a bed like a fucking criminal!”

  She broke down again, clinging to Steve’s side like a wounded child, sobbing into the soft cotton of his crewneck sweater. “This is unethical! Unco—”

  “Alright that’s enough hot shot,” Hopper shouts in finality towards Steve, a wrinkle burrowed deep in his forehead accompanied with graying thick eyebrows set in a devastating frown. 

  “Chief,” Wayne interjects, cap wringing in his calloused, wrinkle bared hands, his voice wobbly but steady, runny nose and wet tears cling to his scruffy beard, “my son was protectin’ that girl, you know Eddie…he’d never hurt someone unless his life or someone he cared about was in danger.” 

  Hopper tore his gaze from the one of the richest in the room to the poorest, hanging his head with sorrow, “ ‘m sorry, Wayne— but until Mr. Derry’s statement comes back and Eddie is cleared… the cuffs stay.” 

  Wayne hung his head low, the few wiry hairs on his balding head stuck in all sorts of directions despite his attempt at raking them into submission. 

  “Jim Hopper you should be ashamed of yourself,” Karen Wheeler spoke up now, head held high, claw clip  teetering with each gesturing movement of her head, “you know good and well this boy couldn’t have done that to her! They loved each other!” 

  Since the pacing of Steve’s feet had stopped Eddie’s heart rattled hard in his chest, he clawed at the heart monitors on his chest, tried to bite the IV’s from his arms, caged like a wild animal he let out a broken cry, “ple— please, she needs me.”

  “Mr. Munson,” the nurse with blonde hair replies sternly, “she is in critical condition, we don’t know if or when she will be able to to recover, she is heavily sedated and needs rest, her only visitors will be family at this time.” 

  “Speaking of,” another nurse chirps, young and fresh gilled, entirely too eager to please her superior, “do you know how to get a hold of her family?”

  He shakes his head slow, causing a pounding headache, “I am her family,” Eddie grunts through clenched teeth, pushing himself up on the bed as far as his cuffs would allow, Steve’s hand on his shoulder. “Look around this room! Ted and Karen Wheeler, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Nancy Byers.. we are all she has,” a single tear falls down his bruised cheek, liquid salt in the cut in his top lip. 

  “Okay sir.. who is responsible for her?” 

  “In regards to what? Financially? You money hungry pricks just don’t let up so you?,” Ted Wheeler finally speaks behind his wife, shock and anger evident on his wrinkled features.

  “Not exactly…”

  “Whatever it is, I will handle it, alright?” Eddie interjects, annoyed with the questions, worried only about you, “I’m responsible for her.”

  “Oh,” the nurse says, perking up slightly, marking a red check mark on her clipboard, smoothing out her uniform, “so you are aware of her condition then.” 

  Light bulbs click for everyone in the room but the curly brown haired metal head. 

  Oh my God

  …Tooty

  Holy shit.

  “That she got the shit kicked out of her by that fucking psycho Chad Cunningham?”

  Eddie.

  Ma’am can we talk privately in the hall? 

  “…obviously I’m aware! I was there when it happened! That dumb fuck already took my statement!” he said gesturing to Deputy Wallace. 

  “No, Mr. Munson..”

  This isn’t the time for this! Wayne tried to warn the nurse, but it fell on deaf, naive ears.

  “…she’s right around twelve weeks pregnant.” 

  A pin dropping could have been heard from a mile away. The oxygen was sucked from the room. Karen’s hand was clapped around her mouth. Nancy and Robin choked back sobs.  

  Everyone was struck with horror, but not Eddie. 

  His mind playing that beautiful night between you like a movie in his head. The way your skin felt, the way his heart ached with fullness at your shared fervor and passion. 

  REWIND

  PLAY

  The curve of your lips on his skin, kissing him sweet and slow, no noise, just the love making swallowing you both whole. 

  REWIND 

  PLAY

  PAUSE 

  Your soft snores as he counted the popcorn marks in the ceiling, his girl. His entire universe. 

  STOP

  EJECT 

  The tears rolled like a ferocious river down his face, carving a path down his cheeks and under his wobbling chin, wetting the hospital gown he was forced into when he got here. 

  You were alone.

  He didn’t know anything about pregnancy besides the woman usually got sick right? Every emotion that most men feel when finding out they were going to be a dad hit him all at once. 

  But not fear. 

  He imagined you with a big swollen belly, feet too pudgy to fit into shoes, he’d rub them with lotion until you could fall asleep. 

  He’d imagined his arms holding you from behind, your baby wrapped in his arms still in your womb. The relief you might feel from the weight being in his hands. 

  You were experiencing this pain all by yourself. 

  He couldn’t fathom how you were feeling. Scared. Hopeless? He had no idea. And the thought of you being alone had him nauseous. 

  Why didn’t you didn’t tell him?  

  Why didn’t anyone tell him? 

  His fury built and shook as his voiced boom with grief as he screamed at Steve, dark eyes blood shot and red rimmed. 

  “How could you,” he broke, struggling through the words, "why would you not tell me?!” The cuffs around his wrist broke skin as he tried to claw his way out of them, trying to reach at Steve’s shirt demanding to be heard. 

  “Ed— fuck man!” Steve started, mouth gaping at Eddie’s arms dripping with blood from his fresh wounds, “we didn’t know!” 

  Robin speaks now, trying to reach for Eddie’s hand to offer him some comfort, “She didn’t tell us, Eddie—Steve is right, she didn’t say a word to any of us about it.” 

  “Fuck!” Eddie screams, slamming his wrists into the bed sides, “I sh—should h-have..,” the end falls silent as his long legs were pulled to his chin and he buried his head into them. 

  In the minutes it had been since he found out, he was already a shitty fucking dad.

  The pain of what happened to you and him not being able to stop it quick enough was killing him, and now, realizing that you were carrying his child and you were all alone? 

  There weren’t words for the gut wrenching feeling ripping through him. Overwhelming dread, chest tight with panic and pain. The nausea overtaking him. The vomit came fast, splashing allover himself and the bed, landing in thick puddles on Steve’s shoes. He cried harder and sobbed uncontrollably. When his stomach was empty he could only dry heave. 

  Wayne moved across the tiled floor in quick steps, careful not to slip in the wayward puke in his path. Sitting down hard and with purpose next to Eddie. This wasn’t his first rodeo of seeing Eddie in this turmoil. But never as a grown man. 

  He tried his hardest to hold back the tears he swore he’d never let fall in front of his boy, but gravity won the fight when Eddie pulled him into a bone crushing hug, his sobs snuffed by the canvas of his work jacket. 

———

It was a full 12 hours before Mr. Derry’s statement was released. Tough old bird, he couldn’t be coerced even with the gentle threat from the Cunningham’s came down hard breathing down his neck. 

  Surely not their son? Their angel?

  But the proof was there. An eye witness statement and a severely beaten woman, the record from years past and the statement from both Steve and Robin on what happened last year at your apartment, stood its ground. 

  Eddie was cleared as a free man, self defense in the eyes of the law. The second his cuffs were off he was throwing his boots onto his gripper socked feet, and untangling himself from wires and needles. 

  Steve and Wayne had both taken off work to help Eddie pick up his medication and make him go home and rest. When he tried to protest, Wayne gave Eddie a look that could pierce steel, the kind of look saying no bullshit, and begrudgingly he followed the men out to Steve’s Mercedes. 

  Nancy and Karen stayed behind at the hospital, filling your room with heavily perfumed flowers. Hushed whispers between the mother and daughter as they prayed and hoped that you would make it out of this horrific nightmare. 

  The doctors would only speak to Eddie. Letting him aware that your condition was improving but they would not be able to lift the sedation just yet. A day passed then another. Eddie slept in the hospital grade recliner in your room each night. Singing you sweet lulls of your favorite song. Promising you the world if you would just open your eyes. 

  He was weak himself. Fighting the urge to break down in front of anyone again with each hour that passed. 

-

4 days led to 5 and the nurses and doctors whispered behind their clipboards. On the 6th day they decided to lift the sedation to see how your body would tolerate pain. 

  Eddie never left. 

  Machines beeped and ticked. Tubes and wires connecting from you drip with fluid and monitoring systems. The white walls and outdated curtains of the hospital shine a yellowed glow into your room, bringing with it a warmth to your cotton thread blanket and warming the skin on your arms. A welcomed feeling compared to the cold needles of the IV poking into your skin delivering flows of medicine and liquids to keep you hydrated and your pain manageable. 

  Foiled balloons printed with get well wishes bounce and sway with the kick on from the vent. 

  One of your hands is unexpectedly warmer than the other. A rough drag across the knobs of your knuckles is a familiar feeling, and you smell him before you even open your eyes to acknowledge that it’s him. 

  The clinging smell of cigarettes on a freshly washed shirt and the spice of deodorant force their way into your nose. It’s a different shampoo than the one you’re used to catching on him. More manly. All sandalwood and musk a hint of citrus. And at first you think he’s someone else… maybe Steve picked up smoking heavily again?

  But when a tuned hum reverberates low against your hand followed by a pair of lips kissing gently around the IV and tape poked and laid against your skin, you know for certain it’s the man you’ve been dreaming about. 

  The one you cried for. 

  The one who visited your sleeping mind and told you everything was going to be okay.

  His name falls from your lips like choked frozen honey, thick in your mouth and on a dry tongue. 

  It was the most beautiful noise he had ever heard. 

  His girl. His whole world. Awake.

[lemonlimestar]

i absolutely adore your designs! id love to hear about your process for making characters who look similar in canon have unique and identifiable features!!

tysm :,) i’ve always been really into character design so it’s fun to translate that into characters i love.

as for making similar looking characters look different i drew up a little lineup.

this is gonna be a long one sjhdjsjs

cassie, steph, and mia are all beloved white, blonde, *skinny, teenage girls with roughly the same appearance so i decided to focus in on them.

(*they’re usually portrayed as being muscular/fit but nowhere near in same fashion as their male counterparts)

i wish there was a fancier way to put it, but honestly i just play around with shape language until i get a design i like. i try to lean into motifs/commonalities. (ex: the robins have larger noses to be sort of bird-like, cissie has a heart face to tie into the connection between archery & cupid, the house of el s-curl, cassie’s pigtails are shaped like stars) overall, doing lineups like these are really helpful when trying to make characters look different because it shows you a side-by-side of all the similarities & differences in how i draw the characters.

especially when they interact a lot (ex: wally & roy, kon & tim, cissie & greta) i don’t want them looking like siblings or to repeat the same features between characters who already look similar. unless i’m playing into that (dick & donna <3)

when changing race or body types, i try to factor in the actual character & their backstory. i tend to draw cassie stockier because of her more brawler-like fighting style + her being one of shorter yj kids. but also, i made greta chubby both because i thought it worked well with her shape language and i simply wanted to. the world is my oyster.

as for race, i’m a lot more careful about thinking about how being non-white would affect a character. i have to know a decent amount about a character before hitting them with The Self-Indulgence Beam. making a character black, brown, or asian shouldn’t be slapped on like a sticker without any care put into it. i feel like it’s a well-known point, but it’s worth mentioning especially because i’m black & i make so many characters non-white when i draw them.

back to canon portrayals, they’re some unique features given to them (ex: steph’s freckles aren’t always drawn but they do get featured a few times) so i try to make things like that a permanent physical feature. the curls were simply inspired by some other stephs i’ve seen :) i typically hc that she straightens & crimps them when she’s a teenager but i drew her with them for this example. i got very self-indulgent with my steph design because she’s my girl, but i also tried to keep in mind how she complements the people she interacts with the most (cass, tim, babs).

although i’ve enjoyed what i’ve read with her, i know the least about mia. so, i just gave her features i’d like to see more on teenage characters like acne. i pulled from some panels for the shape of her nose and adjusted the shade of her hair about a million times. i debated on giving her piercings, but ended up going against it because she doesn’t have invulnerability nor a full face mask & she doesn’t have piercings in any of the panels i saw of her.

although i’m not the hugest fan of the reveal of cassie secretly being a demigod rather than just having been given her powers, her being not entirely human gives me a little bit more leeway with her design in my head. hence the stark blonde in her lashes being inspired by fantasy design i enjoy.

one more thing i almost forgot was scars. obviously heroes with no powers would have more visible scars. just with the bats: they all have body scarring but i draw cass with more facial scars because of her history + she’s herself so she wouldn’t bother covering them v.s. tim, who doesn’t have visible facial scars bc he’s Very Particular about appearances, but he has a crooked nose.

scars can be fun to play with as far as trying to remember what happens to certain characters that would leave them scarred (cissie’s scar where the arrow went through her, any scars kon got from literally dying, wally’s or barry’s scarring from their “accidents”) they’re an interesting trait to add & reflects the whole vigilantism thing.

okay i think that’s all the thoughts i have. ik this got kinda rambley but i hope it was helpful 😭

here are some closeups, as a treat <3

[dunmeshi-darlings]

eeee i love your writing!!! could i get chilchuck comforting a crying reader (who's normally very bubbly and happy)? Bonus if they're crying bc they think their feelings for chilchuck are unrequited 🫣

Thank you kindly dear anon, i hope your day is going well and that you have rested well and ate well.

Chilchuck was never good with emotions, both his and other peoples. He kept his own emotions hidden so as not to appear vulnerable. And when it came to other peoples emotions he was fine with the positive ones...but quickly became awkward when things turn negative.

In fact he might be the worst (well second worst possibly) when it comes to dealing with emotional issues. So when he walks in and sees you crying he freezes up like a deer caught in the headlights. Its such a foreign sight to him he wasnt even sure if he was seeing it right.

You have always been such a bright cheery person, No matter the situation you were always the one that had the biggest grin across your face telling everyone its going to be ok, to not give up and push on. That was one of the things chilchuck liked about you the most, even if he would talk about how a situation was impossible or that it was to dangerousm you were always the one reassuring him that things were going to be ok. He never said it but it really meant alot to him, usually he would just ignore it or blow it off but he knows deep down it helps him more than he lets on.

He stares at you sobbing, wide eyed for a few moments before quickly making his way over to you. "WOAH woah hey Y/N hey hey its ok! its ok, whats wrong are you hurt?"

He says quickly sitting down beside you putting an arm around you instinctually. He normally isnt one to get physical when it came to comforting people but it was just something he did before he even realized he was doing it.

"Im fine...im just stupid..a stupid stupid idiot...an idiot that should have known better" You said through tears before breaking into sobs again, chilchuck looked around awkwardly before pulling you into him to cry, he sat there patting your back trying to comfort you as best he could. patting your back and repeatedly saying it was ok softly.

Eventually when you finally manage to calm down he wipes away some tears from your face before speaking up. "Now tell me whats going on? what do you mean know beter?" You want to tell him the truth, it had been eating you alive for days and days now. But tonight you realized what the actual truth was, and it was to much and broke you to pieces, it was a truth you had tried to ignore but couldnt and it broke your very being. You dont want to tell anyone about it, let alone him...but you know he wont let you hide away and pretend like this wasnt happening. so you take a deep breath and speak.

"im sorry chilchuck...i know this is going to make you feel awkward...and i know..i know you dont feel the same way.....but i like you, i REALLY like you...i care about you more than anyone else. and i know its stupid and i should just get over it but...it hurts.." you admit to him, not even looking at him, With how you feel right now your sure you wouldnt want him seeing your face right now. He didnt say anything, he only stared wide eyed at you. You should have known this was how he was going to react, you know how he felt about inter group relationships so you know he wouldnt want any part of being with you. However your miserable thoughts were interrupted as he pulled you into a tight hug.

"hey dont talk like that...if there is anyone here thats an idiot its me. I do care about you, I really do. You mean alot more to me than you realize, and you help me stay sane down here." He says squeezing you tight, you sniffle softly as you cant believe what your hearing. "Im not great with emotions...both dealing with other people and my own. Whenever you would be so positive and cheery it would make me genuinely happy, but i didnt want to get to attached so id play it off or something but genuinely you have helped me so much down here. I also have....other reasons on why im so hesitant to show emotions that im not ready to talk about just yet...but i do care about you...in fact i think i might like you the same way you like me. I just struggle being open about things you know? i should have been honest with you and open about my feelings back...that way you wouldnt have to deal with this. Im sorry, But to make it up to you, once we rescue falin and leave the dungeon why dont i take you to dinner?"

You couldnt believe what you were hearing, he had feelings for you to?! you couldnt believe it, you could feel yourself hugging him close as you smiled into his shoulder. "That sounds great, id love to."

[threepandas]

Bad End: Restructuring

The blast doors on my office were stronger then the ones on most bunkers. They matched the one's on the company dorms AND my personal rooms. Thing is? They weren't designed to hold out forever. In fact, I was pretty sure they were a pretty bit of security theater, just to let us fleshys feel safe.

We weren't.

Not a single moment of a single day.

The pay was unmatched. But then again, it'd HAVE to be, with the mortality rate. The morbidity rate on top, too. You didn't take a job like this unless you were crazy. Or, you know, desperate. College loans, man. They get you over a barrel and don't let up. But a few years of this? I'd be clear an free~

Few MORE years? I'd ever have a tasty little nest egg to fall back on, in case of emergencies. I just... you know, had to play it smart. Be really, REALLY careful.

No slacking off. No getting comfortable. Vigilance and best manners. Then we all get to go home alive. Because what's out there? In the Labs? Those guys can pop diamonds like we crush packing peanuts. Highest grade, fancy ass, metal bars of specialty blend metals? Tied up in pretty little bows.

They may LOOK like some sort of waifish boy band... but God, they are NOT. They are really, REALLY not. And their "personality" matrix program thingies? Apparently still a work in progress. A LONG work in progress.

People have fucking DIED.

But does management care? Of course not. Pay out some life insurance. "It was an accident on the job". And "of COURSE steps will be taken to insure to never happens again". Ha! My ass, it is. And my ass, they are. They aren't doing SHIT. Nor are they GOING too. They're in too deep with this project, whatever it is. And us?

Well WE'RE expendable.

Just the cost of doing business.

I watch bleeding edge technology move like dancers, room to room. The wall of screen lighting up my cramped little office. The mini-fridge hums and the fan whirrs, filling the silence. I try to spot FM-036 on one of the screens. I can't find him and it makes me nervous.

He might be hiding. Trying to be polite, in his own way. Since there was an incident.

I FUCKING TOLD Ric not to call them "it"! I TOLD him! It aggravates them. Provokes. You don't DO that with something... some ONE, with that much physical power. 36 put their fist through his SHOULDER. And the God damned wall! He might LOSE his arm, which? Given their ability to calculate better then most supercomputers?

Was probably the point.

I notice one of the androids messing with a computer in a lab. Fuck. I lean forward, hating drawing their attention but knowing I have to do my damn job. I press on the speaker system for that room after a quick glance at the ID on their jumpsuit.

"FM-047, could you please not touch that? I know you are aware that you are not supposed to tamper, meddle, or otherwise engage with the researchers notes or electronics."

The android stop typing. Their head rolling up and to the side to look directly at the camera, their body perfectly still. The angle borders on impossible. Almost owlish, nearly snake like. All perfectly smooth movements effortlessly controlled. Joint not limited by human designs. His face is bemused. Pleasant.

"Of course, night gaurd. My mistake. Thank you for correcting me." He replies, something almost like laughter, nearly like mocking, but not quite, in his smooth voice. They always sound like they are... HUMORING us. Working around us.

It sends a jolt of cold fear though my veins.

I... I REALLY hate talking to the androids.

Pity, they seem to like talking to ME.

"I was unaware you were on shift tonight. I will update the others. It's good to hear your voice again, you seemed nervous, last time we spoke."

Yeah. Because you were asking PERSONAL QUESTIONS. Oh, sure, they had dressed them up as "We're so CURIOUS about Humans~☆" but I wasn't an IDIOT. You Did NOT, under ANY circumstances, try to bond with the machines. NO chatting. That was lesson number one from my trainer.

And Frank? Frank had seen too many "but THIS time it's DIFFERENT! We're FWIENDS~!" Incidents end in unspeakable carnage. Lost too many noobies. We DO NOT chat! With the machines!!! DO. NOT.

"Ah~, you made her nervous again, FM-047" came from a different screen. I flinched. Jerked back so I could see it. Oh god. "Besides, I told you. The calculations showed she wasnt going anywhere. The 'money' is too good."

The androids had stopped. Turned, in some cases unnaturally, to stare up at the cameras. At me. It was a blatant show of how interconnected they were. How distance meant nothing to them. How... how enmeshed they were, in the Lab's systems.

COULD they see me?

I didn't want to know. I NEEDED not to know. If only so I could continue to sleep at night.

They smiled, clearly hoping I'd engage. I wanted to. God did I want too. Wanted to demand "what calculations" and for them to STOP looking at me like that. But I didn't. With tense muscles I careful lifted my finger from the speaker system's button and leaned back. Crossed my arms like I was hugging myself.

Do. Not. Engage.

Remember what Frank taught you.

My... my office felt so claustrophobic. Painfully small. Across the screens before me, matching faces huffed laughs of condescending amusement. Some out right DID laugh. Bright and mean noises that echoed in silence of the night.

Humans? Frank had observed (and I kinda had to agree) were beneath them, in their minds. Flawed little flesh creatures. Annoying. It was something the scientists were trying to correct. Pretty sure they fucked up. Badly. And long, long ago.

Watching over these guys? Felt like watching over a sea of identical demons. Pretty, cruel, and incapable of human understanding. Fond of tormenting the nearest human for sport.

"Tell us, night gaurd, are you afraid?"

Oh that's just PETTY. Fucking cliché as shit, too. I mean, YES, obviously. But STILL. And... and you know what? Fuck it! Frank, gave me his number for a reason! I scramble for my belt. The communicator there. It barely rings.

"Mph, m'awake! Wus happin' kid? Come on, talk to me."

I ramble. Knees dragged up on my chair, curled in a ball. Frank's low, old man, rumble a soothing focal point. These guys are so creepy. I HATE that they KNOW that. Gleefully will TRY to be, sometimes. Can BACK IT UP.

"Hey, hey. I'll stay on the line, okay? You just need to make it to morning shift. They're are creepy lil shits, but they can't get past the doors. I'll come get you myself, okay? Walk you right back to the dorms. You're going to be okay, sweetheart."

I nod, even though I know the old man can't see me. Manage to crackle out a "Mmmhmm". The androids haven't stopped staring. The worst part? Is they realistically DONT HAVE TOO. Can stay, perfectly still, like statues... forever, if they wish.

Watching.

With those "I'm laughing at you" grins. That "aaaw, how PATHETIC" expression. As though I were a wretched little animal to be observed. I ask Frank to tell me about his new show. It's... it's something about socialites, right? Historical? He's glad too. Filling my office with the sound of his voice. It's gonna be a long shift.

I don't notice, high up on the wall, near the back of my office?

A security camera that I do not control. It's red light on.

The company has to be sure it's employees aren't slacking, after all! Aren't up to no good! But don't worry, THAT camera is connect to a database the androids shouldn't be able to access! Because we told them not too.

And THAT'S IT.

No one will learn of the security breach until its far, far too late.

Now? They watch as I watch them.

And it's just the beginning.

[katakaluptastrophy]

Love your TLT meta! I'm curious - what do you make of Nona's "You looked like you wanted to be kissed, that's all." and Alecto's " This is how meat loves meat."?

Thank you!

I don't really have a coherent answer, and I suspect we won't really get one until ATN. We know that Alecto is...a Resurrection Beast...a fully Lyctorised cavalier...that is, some combination of the collective soul of planet earth and the soul of a human guy called John (plus or minus 10 billion ghosts). But just what is Nona?

You kept screaming and screaming...like a baby in pain. So I tried to hurt you - I did hurt you. I reached out for you and it hurt you... He said, I put my hands around your neck. He said, I cupped your soul in my hands. He said, I took you into myself and we became one. ...He said, As the world went up I remade us both. I hid me in you... I hid you in me. And when we were together...once the shaman had claimed the sun... I became God. (John 1:20)

This excerpt elides some of the full horror of John's description, in which Alecto screams rather a lot more and John is vomiting dirt and tearing his ribs out and blaming it all on human nature and his id while he binds her into some horrifying nightmare Barbie body and worries that she'll "escape" before he finishes.

We know Nona doesn't enjoy having a body. And we know necromancy makes Nona feel sad.

There's one particularly horrifying moment in NTN where these two things come together:

She wanted to shout. She wanted to be listened to. She wished the barrier had taken her hands. She wished she had thrust herself into it - become that big seething mass of flesh and meat and tendrils - ruined her body, just melted it; come back messed up, so that nobody could want her body but her, so that it would be hers and nobody else's. (NTN ch 24)

The language that Tamsyn Muir uses to describe both what John did to Alecto and the way that Nona's borrowed body subconsciously remembers that violence is so viscerally uncomfortable.

Just a few chapters later, Nona begins to remember who she is:

"Did you think this was fun, Pyrrah Dve? Did you think this was lovely? Family. Blood. Together. Kiss, kiss. A child's game. You say nice words and everyone pretends they are the words you say. Here is a house. We live in it. Worms slithering over each other... Did you like playing pretend? Did you like being mother and father? You should have given into your desires and eaten us. Chew and swallow. More natural. Would have respected you for it..." (NTN ch 28)

Who have we met who likes to play a twisted game of happy families but who at the end of the day will justify his desire to own and consume and destroy as natural and understandable?

What "lessons of the hand and the mouth" did Alecto learn when John "saw the face of Earth and choked the life out of it and ate it whole"? (John 5:4).

I'm never not haunted by the line in HTN where John reaches out for Harrow and she physically cannot refuse him: "the meat of your meat and the flesh of your flesh belonged to God." (ch 9), which so closely echoes Alecto's "this is how meat loves meat".

"I might not help you when... I'm back," she said, not quite understanding I. "I'll be different. I'll remember everything... I'll remember the thing I'm trying to forget... I won't love anything... I won't know how. I won't be me at all, or I'll be the me who knows the thing, and knowing the thing means I'm not Nona - I'm someone else." (ch 31)

Nona is, in some way we don't quite understand yet, Alecto without John.

And that fills me with quite a lot of sorrow for Alecto and trepidation for Alecto the Ninth.

[onyaki]

"such a needy boy"

c. strife

such a needy boy who won't let his needs be met. he's a boxer and you're his doctor. physical therapy, bruises, cuts, gashes, you take care of whatever he asks for. usually he doesn't ask he just barges right into your clinic asking for you to fix him up. one night after one of his matches you notice he doesn't come in. you can clearly see from the stands that he's injured. bruises and a bloody nose, yet he refuses to have you help him by never coming in. but he's too easy to read.

"cloud." you ring his phone, after his coach called to make sure he had come in after his match, as his coach said he seemed unusually distant, seems to have something on his mind.

"why'd you call, you have no reason too." he's just getting out the shower, his hairs wet and a towel wrapped around his waist. he's sore, not supposed to be though he didn't go to physical therapy with you like he was supposed to.

"whaaat, I can't call a patient? im joking. you didn't come in today and your coach called me to make sure if you did and I had to tell him no. you've never missed a day what's wrong?" you tease him and he has a internal reaction, face heating up just slightly, muscles tense just a bit.

"no response? reacting in the way you don't like?" as his doctor you're supposed to study his reactions he's felt like this before and hates the reaction his body gives.

"anyway. come over, you're beat up I need to make sure nothing's broken. your coach will kill me if you come in too hurt tomorrow for practice."

"right now?" he finally says something.

"yes right now. who cares how late it is, don't come to the clinic come to my place. I cleaned up just for you, it's nice over here promise." your place is nice, the tv speakers playing music low, the low hanging lights above you island just dimmed enough to see the counter. the dim accent lights from your room making the entrance to your room visible.

"just come over. I need to examine you, make sure nothing's broken."

"alright." he's already gotten his clothes on, right when you told him he could come over he'd dropped his phone on the bed, putting you on speaker, listening to your voice from afar.

"I'll see you soon cloud."

he shows up at your front door, soaking wet.

"it's raining? and you walked? why didn't you have your driver take you?"

"why? im capable of walking aren't I?"

"you are. you're a boxer capable of many things. I'll get you a change of clothes, feel free to shower I'll get you towel."

"thank you."

"we're doing manners today? you never say thank you." your voice disappearing into the hall as you grab a towel. "what's going on with you today? got something in your mind?" you walk back up to him with a change of clothes, a towel and a rag. "don't smell like ass, I won't examine you like that."

shit, he thought. he's been feeling a little needy all day. he even let himself get beat up during his match. so you had to touch him, you are his doctor, you fix him, bandage him, but there's plenty of other things you could do for him.

"needa get my head out of the gutter." he mumbles to himself.

"hm?" you tease, knowing whatever he just said wasn't for you to hear. "the bathroom is the second door down the hall, I'll be waiting on the couch." cloud walks past you his towel and clothes in hand, and you make your way over to the couch.

--

"done?" he came out with his towel on his head to dry his hair. you get up from the couch, walking towards your kitchen counter.

"yeah."

"sit on the counter."

"why there?"

"it's so much easier to examine you when you're not sitting where I have to work 10 times harder to even look at you. so just sit here. plus id rather be able to talk to you as well rather than just examine you, and talking to you while your on the ground is weird makes me think you're dead," you laugh a bit, and he smiles slightly.

"so, what hurts?" you question before touching.

"nothing."

"if nothing hurts I wouldn't be a doctor. now what hurts."

"my back," he sighs not wanted to admit his pain

"and..?"

"my chest."

"annnndd..?"

"that's it I swear, that's where I mostly I got hit today." he shifts in his spot, fidgeting a bit.

"your match was looked a little, off I guess I don't know how to describe it."

"I let myself get hit."

"you wanted to see me that bad?" you question, teasing a bit. he's quiet. "im joking, don't be cold and take your shirt off,"

he pulls his shirt off and as your about to touch he stops you grabbing your wrist, and pulling you closer to him. "you really don't know why im here, would any of your other patients really come over just to get an examination?"

"I don't know any who would," the two of you almost as close as you can be, your waist pressing on the counter between his legs, you wrist being pulled by cloud, and your faces so close together that you could've kissed him. "but I also don't know any of my patients who are as needy as you are. you don't think ive realized how needy you are whenever you come in? you sit down and you do everything you can to make me be touchy and teasing."

"the whole point was for you to notice." he closes the distance between you and him, touching on your waist, slipping his hands under your shirt to feel some skin.

"such a needy boy." you tease, and he lets go of your wrist, putting both hands on your waist. he leans in, kissing your neck, nipping at the skin. you squirm in his hands, almost asking for more.

"admit it, admit how needy you are."

"I really need to admit it after kissing your neck like that?"

you get close to his ear, grining. "yeah, that's what I want." your voice gets breathy, and he gets touchier. "talk to me, tell me how needy you are."

"hm, i'm not one to just tell you." he says leaning in to kiss your neck. he takes your hands putting them around his neck. as your hands rest he leans in a little more, kissing your neck even more. covering you in bruises just like the ones he has on his chest from his matches. "you look good bruised. we should switch places one day, im sure id be a good doctor"

you attempt to bite back but he hikes up your shirt. "bite down." unfortunately for you, your tough act falls down and you do as he says. with your shirt in your mouth you stuggle to whimper and moan, his cold hands slowly pawing around your body, you look him in the eyes with an annoyed look seeing how much he's teasing you "don't look at me like that, it's not my fault you tease me so much," he whispered.

you let go of your shirt, whimpering a little from his touch. "it is your fault, you're so easy to tease."

"am I still easy to tease as im touching and kissing you all over?"

"a little less easy,"

"yeah? well im about to make it a lot harder." he pushes you off of him, getting down from the counter, tugging you back to him by your wrist, shoving you between him and the ledge of your counter. "don't touch there." you decided it would be a good idea to touch on his bruises, if he's gonna bruise and bite you, might as well return the favor.

"shit–" his voice breathy and his grip on you starting to loosen. "trying to kill me?" a sense of pain shocks him a bit, and an unexpected wave of pleasure. you take your hand palming at his dick. he huffs, his shoulders collapsing into you, his head resting on your shoulders.

"easy to tease, easy to pleas–!" he takes his hands, from your waist, trailing his hands to your cunt.

"if you're gonna be bogus, we'll both have to be a hot mess."

[ashton-sano]

HxH: Feitan w/ a Strong! S/o Pt.1(?)

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`>When I say strong, the reader, in this case, would be as physically capable and have nen and/or abilities comparable to Feitan. I see a lot of headcanons but not many like this

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`>Getting back into the HXH fandom slowly so while I'm working on some more Food Wars! Content, have these since this gremlin has been plaguing my mind lol. If this gets enough love, ill make a part 2 so tell me what you all think :3

Warning: Murder, Stalking and Strong language

So if you a minor, beware.

.

-To start, he might be a tad put off

-It's pretty rare to find someone with such prowess, especially ones that don't have less than-savory intentions

-Id assume you met on a battlefield of some kind or while he was on one of his missions with the troupe

-Just like him, you aren't exactly the upstanding citizen type and are committing crimes of some sort when you encounter

-Whether stealing the same things or killing the same people, you two have similar goals, regardless of the reason

-To be fair, he didn't think much of you when you first appeared

  "How. Troublesome...."

-An annoying obstacle, someone to dispatch quickly

-However, after a rather tedious fight and a good amount of bruises, he realized it might not be that simple

-Your moves were calculated and precise, and your battle iq no doubt honed over years of experience with nen abilities that even he found difficult to handle

-His interest was certainly piqued, as much as it can for Feitan anyway

-You’ll hand it to him; its been a while since you've seen his level of strength

-A true master of his craft, no doubt

-Regardless, that isn't why you were here

-You came to rid of a target and with your mission accomplished, there was no reason to stay, no matter how curious you were about the extent of his ability

-You were swift at your exit, swift enough that Feitan only caught your figure leaving from the corner of his eye

-Admittedly you've sparked more than enough of his interest

-something about your very being itched him in a way he couldn't describe and lingered his thoughts for moments too long

-Like it or not, your existence loomed his mind awkwardly and gave his chest a tighten

-Indescribably annoying

'Must. know. about. Her. Get rid of stupid feeling.”

-now we all know Feitan is no short of deranged and sadistic so it is no telling if he wanted to know for devious reasons or other

-Whatever the case, it led to him talking Shalnark into researching deep (and I mean very deep) into you

-Playing it off as a simple inquiry, he found you, a picture attached to your profile albeit a very blurry one

-All that he could get was your name and Age

"Y/n. Interesting. Name."

Shalnark is confused

-That's how he got here, peeping from your window as you rest

-Even with such little information, finding you was trivially easy

-Your apartment was small, compact he’d say

-Nothing compared to the places he’s layed his head: cold, dark, and filthy on a good day

-He spent the night watching you sleep, noticing every ministration, every time you got up abruptly and checked your surroundings, nearly certain something was amiss

-He didn't expect peeping on you to be so trepidatious

-That didn't stop him from stopping by every time he wasn't busy to check up and watch you

-Days became weeks and months flew by as he kept this cycle going

-It eventually got to the point that he'd follow you to and from your house

-He was searching and, surprisingly, unsure of what for

-He's never felt any particular connection to people outside of the spiders so it was usually easy to write it off as mindless curiosity

-He just wants to know why you interest him so much, and nothing more

-That's how he ended up in your house when you left for your 8 am morning run, which took you approx. 30 minutes to finish as of this week

-He was just checking your clothes because he wished to know where you frequented, perhaps he could lie in waiting as you shopped, snatching your jugular and relenting this pounding in his chest that paces just a few beats quicker

-He only checks the food you eat to see what your diet consists of, perhaps to poison you as your gaze falters from your plate, even if just for a second, permanently killing the heat that rises against his skin at the thought of you

-He doesn't care about you; he just wants to know your weaknesses to exploit, that’s all

-If that were true, then why was he in your room when you weren't? Taking in your scent as if an attached dog 

-Surely he could've killed you thousands of times over in the dead of your sleep; a slit to your throat would've ended this and yet he feels pulled to let you live 

“Just. one. More day.”

 -If it didn't matter, if you didn't matter, why did he effectively remove any potential romantic partner from your life?

-It's just to make you easier to kill; it's just to make you easier to kill, it's just to make you easier to take. No! Kill...not take...

-What was once curiosity became more of a crippling obsession.

-He had to know everything—what you were doing, who you spoke to, and what you ate in the morning

-You captivated him and even if he couldn't understand it, you had him wrapped around your finger without so much as a word 

-Ever since your mission 4 months ago, a certain feeling has lingered your consciousness and kept you on edge with no clue as to the source

-Things went missing, your associates became distant—well, more distant than you kept them—and your kills have become suspiciously easier.

-To the average person, such a prospect would strike fear and cause for trepidation

-Did you think I wasn't aware that he'd been watching me?

-All credit goes to him, spotting him was the hardest part

-He only let his presence be known through peeks of his bloodlust spilling before he vanished in the same motion, which gave away how seasoned he was

It was hard to tell if he wanted me to find him with how obvious his actions became; no, the word would be bold. His actions have gone from stealing articles from the back of my closet to lacing food when he was sure I hadn't seen him 

-Playing dumb was the easy part; actually avoiding his kidnapping attempt(s) was certainly a challenge 

-Before long, you could see the desperation in his nen

“You're getting sloppy, Stalker.”

-I suppose you've worked hard, stalker, I’ll let you win just this once

[lampiridaes]

HELLO!!! iys me again heheh, id like to request ermm.. tsukasa and minori, with a s/o that RARELY shows affection by physical touch, BUT gets really clingy when theyre half awake or when theyre sick,,, though when they fully regained their consciousness/health,, they get embarrassed about it? thank yew :3!!

♬ now playing: "suddenly clingy"

-> when you've got a partner as aloof and reserved as you, can you really blame them for being so surprised?

★ — chars ; tsukasa , minori

★ — notes ; MWEHEHE HELLO AGAIN LYN (i hope thats ur name and im not misreading anything somehow huhu)!!! another tsukasa and minori req... rlly love writing them so im always grateful :3 DID U KNOW I DREW MINORI FOR MY CLASS PIN THING!?!?! my teacher was nice enough to print it out for everyone hehe... still have yet to receive it bc of break but just a fun little thing that happened!! hope u enjoy <3

★ — warnings ; implied fem!reader for minori (implies that reader also attends miyamasuzaka) , otherwise none!

★ — taglist ; @akitosheart , @mintchocaur (tsukasa!!)

affiliated with @virtualbookstore ★

★ track #1: tenma tsukasa

to put it simply, tsukasa was really surprised! just the night before, you were so calm and reserved, maybe holding his hand a few times. even kissing his cheek once or twice.

... but right now? after you just woke up? you're all over him. literally. he doesn't mind, please don't get him wrong! tsukasa finds it endearing, if anything. it's just...

"tsukasa... love you..."

feeling your entire body cling onto his with such desperation... he wants to question it, but at the same time, it might risk embarrassing you and making you back away again, which isn't what he wants at all!

though the embarrassment was basically inevitable, as 20 minutes or so later, you're back to your usual self, just a little more shy this time.

"oh, goodness... tsukasa, i'm sorry, i didn't-"

"not to worry, [name]! i don't mind it one bit!"

he knows that you don't show a lot of affection normally for a reason. maybe you're too shy, maybe you're uncomfortable with it. as much as he loves it when you do, tsukasa doesn't force you to do anything! sure, he'll ask once or twice every once in a while, but he's very understanding if the answer is no.

... though, if you do it when you're fully awake for the first time... expect him to suddenly get all quiet and freeze up. it's a good thing, no worries.

★ track #2: hanasato minori

minori's way of showing her love for you is mostly words of affirmation or gift giving, so she doesn't mind that you aren't too keen on physical affection!

that doesn't mean anything bad, of course! it's not like she doesn't want to hug you, hold you, or kiss you, it's just that... she's a little shy about it. which means your lack of physical affection works out just fine.

so you can imagine how perplexed she was when you started begging for her attention, holding her hand and asking her to stay with you when you got sick.

"minori, stay a little longer... i'll feel so much better if you're here..."

minori may be an idol now, but hearing compliments from someone she truly holds near and dear to her heart... might give her a heart attack.

... but she also really adores it. after all, it makes her feel loved and special, more so since it's coming from you, of all people.

with all the training and practices she needs to attend to nowadays, minori makes sure to leave cute, handwritten notes or sweet text messages to check up on you! if you're allowed to use your phone when you're sick, that is.

when you finally recover and go back to school, it's absolutely over for the both of you. minori gets flustered easily on her own, but now that you've also lost your cool, getting all red alongside her? it's quite a cute scene from an outsider's perspective.

... the outsiders being the rest of more more jump, of course. as silly and clumsy the two of you can be, you're really the perfect pair for each other.

[theramseyloft]

What do you think is an unnecessary amount of birds for a breeder/fancier ect like could someone keep over a hundred birds comfortably and not be considered a hoarder

The short answer is: Yes. One person could potentially keep over a hundred birds comfortably.

Could every person? Or even most people? No.

That requires a LOT of space and resources.

In order to provide adequate care for 100 birds, one first and foremost either needs a very large loft, or multiple small ones.

The long answer is a lot more nuanced.

I don't think I could set a "specific number of birds over X is automatically a hoarder", simply because of how widely variable the capacity and resources range between individual care takers.

What needs to be considered to identify a hoarder is the physical condition of the animal, the amount and quality of food and water, the cleanliness of their environment, what enrichment is available to them, and whether or not they get medical care when they need it.

Are the animals present healthy and active? That requires there be sufficient space, food, and water available.

Are they able to engage in natural behaviors? This requires sufficient space and enrichment.

If any get injured or fall ill (frankly, an inevitability in living things), is that one separated and do they get any kind of medical treatment?

Birds in particular are naturally messy, but absolutely not naturally dirty!

While there are good reasons one might be (New arrival just uncrated, elderly individual who struggles to preen unaided, or a sick individual being treated), that should not be your overall impression of the flock!

Since you specified a breeder, it does need to be said that outbreaks happen.

No quarantine is 100% bullet proof, however anyone may try.

But if multiple birds are ill, that facility should be closed to the public while they get the issue IDed and treated.

If you see sick birds on the property, leave, for the sake of your own birds' safety, and report it to the Department of Agriculture.

A breeder performing their due diligence will have records to show diagnostic efforts and treatment.

There should be enough space for every bird to have a comfortable perch when the entire flock is off the ground.

Many breeders feed and water once a day, typically early in the day, so scattered seed should not be a concern, but waterers should not be big enough to bathe in and should be changed daily.

Separate places to bathe, offered frequently, will help keep drinking water clean, but even if the bathing places are all put away, you should be able to look at the plumage and drinking water to gauge how clean both are.

Pigeons in particular cannot climb and do not like cluttered flight or walking spaces, so their enclosures can look somewhat barren when compared to a parrot or song bird's.

Shelves, swings and floor space are all used as social spaces.

Look for furniture like caves or nest boxes, mirrors, forage pans, or bath tubs.

Pigeons most like to play with things that feel like sticks, shine, or make a neat sound, so twigs, pine straw, bread ties, blunted tooth picks, q-tips with the cotton tips removed, jingle bells, crinkle mats, wind chimes, bells, or any toy combining two or more of those things should be evident in the living space.

Poop is going to happen.

There is no aviary free of it for any length of time.

But it should not crust surfaces other than a nest box. (babies poop where they sit. It's intended to cement their nest material together into a cohesive pad that can't slide or be blown out of the cliffside crevice they nest in.)

(They are not birds built for high humidity.)

However many birds there are: If they have free access to clean water and feed that meets their nutritional needs, enough space and enrichment to keep themselves clean and engage in natural behaviors, their envoronment is regularly sanitized, and they receive medical care when injured or sick, then the breeder, rescue, or care taker you are visiting is not a hoarder.

[p3ndeja6]

⋆¸*ೃ☼ ⋆¸*ೃ

band au! Stan marsh x y/n

AGED UP! AGED UP! AGED UP!

summary: you were part of Stan’s band, crimson dawn as one of the lead singers, you and Stan had an established relationship but ended things badly due to lack of communication (on his part) everything he did or you did annoyed each other, but how can you guys continue playing together if you guys hate each other

warnings: swearing, arguing, marijuana usage, alcohol consumption, implied sex, angsty, jealous Stan!, maybe smut (probably)

2.6K words

not proof read (my bad)

(idk how many words this got so.. my bad pt 2)

you were currently on Wendy’s bed groaning and whining. you were so fed up and annoyed you could literally punch the next person that breathes next to you.

“Cmon y/n, it can’t be that bad anymore!” Wendy said. Wendy has been trying to cheer you up for over an hour making you forget about what happened at the crimson dawn meeting.

“no Wendy you don’t understand, Stan tries to always take control on everything the band does, we literally can’t fucking breathe anymore, all he does is nag and nag and nag, I can’t fucking stand him” you got up in anger clutching your hair in distress trying not to pull your hair apart, you might be getting grey hairs over this whole thing

“you’re only saying that because you guys broke up on bad terms and you still have to play alongside him y/n”

you and Stan dated for almost over a year before calling it quits. You truly did love that boy but he never tried to put any effort in the relationship anymore after the fourth month of dating. It’s like he lost complete feelings. That wasn’t the case though, he just had a hard time trying to distinguish if your feelings were as true as his but because of all the trying to decipher he lost complete focus on your relationship, resulting in never ending arguments and constant degradation

you loved him so much it hurt you physically after the break up, it took you a while to get yourself together.. for the band. Crimson dawn was getting recognition around South Park county and neighboring counties as well. You guys were getting paid for each gig. You had to continue even if it meant you had to play alongside your ex boyfriend, who you secretly still are in love with but won’t admit to anyone.

You didn’t notice but Wendy brought a box of tissues to you, you hadn’t realized but you were crying. You didn’t know how it happened. But you willing accepted the tissue, wiping your eyes and covering the pure white tissues with black eyeliner and black mascara

“I know it’s not easy, but the band is something you love, don’t let Stan ruin it for you this much.”

She was right, you loved the band, jimmy, butters and Kenny made being in the band fun and bearable

“yeah I guess you’re right-” as soon as you finished your sentence you got a phone call, you looked at the caller ID and it was Stan. You waited a few seconds before answering. “what’s up?” You spoke

“uh hey we just got a gig at some guys party, so come meet at my house in 20 minutes, don’t be late” he replied

“yeah sure whatever, I’ll be on my way” you hanged up in annoyance

“We just got a gig, Wendy by any chance did I leave any extra clothes here?”

You turned around in hopes she did have something you can wear. “Do you mean this?” She held your favorite outfit you forgot about months ago, when you slept over. it was your favorite dress, the flowy ,lacy black dress that made you feel and look so good on your body. God bless, you were already wearing your doc martens. All you had to do was add some finishing touches to your hair and face.

“how do I look?” You asked in worry

“fucking hot, honestly, like I literally could bang right now”

“oh my god! Wendy!!” You laughed at the explicit comment she made

you arrived at Stan’s house in a hurry hoping no one will noticed you were slightly late, you were dreading this but you just couldn’t wait to perform beside Stan

“You’re late y/n” Stan spat

“yeah by a fucking minute, what’s the big deal” you nonchalantly responded, finding your seat next to Kenny.

“the big deal is I told you to not be fucking late and that’s the first thing you do, gosh can’t you understand simply directions?”

“here we go again” Kenny said in humor while taking a sip of his beer

you angrily got up to his face, “You know what jack-ass fuck you, who gives a shit, it was just one fucking minute, why are you bitching about 60 seconds?”

“no fuck you-”

Butters went in between you and Stan who were standing so close to each another

“okay guys! we’re all here Stan cmon tell us what we’re doing” butters shakily said

he took one long second to stare down at you, clearly still pissed off

“okay fine.. I was going to say, that we got a call from one of Clyde’s cousins who’s having a party up in Jefferson county. Just 25 minutes from here. So let’s get ready to head up there”

you all agreed and started gathering your equipment and putting it in the van (that said tegridy farms). It was quiet but not an uncomfortable quiet. You were trying to put all the equipment in the van , fixing the boxes, and the instruments, when stan came up to you.

"y/n... look im sorry i yelled at you..... but seriously dont be late"

" stan i wasnt even that late... i dont know why you are making a big deal out of this... but i accept your apology" "lets just go.. okay?"

"yeah... okay"

As you went inside the van, you sat in between kenny and butters, while stan drove and jimmy sat in the passenger seat. As you were heading towards Jefferson, kenny lit up a joint, taking one huge puff. exhaling and coughing, kenny passing it to you. You received it by taking it in between you thumb and index finger. taking a big puff, you exhaled and then quickly inhaled it all back. Kenny laughed, "oh wow, didn't know you knew how to do that" you giggled and give him a small slap on his shoulder. "please kenny, you were the one who taught me"

The van started to fog up and the herby, skunk smell started to flow around the van, almost disgusting you in a way, creating a bit of a headache due to the "skunk" smell. As you were laughing it up with kenny and butters you had a feeling you were being stared down. You were, Stan was looking at you guys through the rear-view mirror, clenching his jaw and hands, created white marks on his knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel.

Once you guys arrived at clyde's cousins place, you could see all the people outside on the porch laughing, drinking, and smoking. Speaker music faintly coming out through the doors and windows. Colorful lights spinning all around, like a rave almost.

"alright guys, we're here.. we are going to do our best and make everyone know our name... couple ground rules before we go inside... Kenny dont try hooking up with anyone, please we seriously dont have time for that.. actually that goes for everyone. thats it lets go"

"please dude, i'm not gonna have sex... i didn't bring any condoms, plus cartman thought it would be funny how hard he can kick me in my fucking nuts. wasn't fucking funny"

You chuckled giving him a reassuring pat on his back and walked inside with him cursing out cartman and how hes a fat fuck who gets no bitches whatsoever.

You walked in and saw how everyone was dancing and singing and having a great time. you then saw a couple that kind of reminded you of you and stan, they looked so in love and so happy to be in each other's arms. you missed stan and you missed being with him, you didnt realize you were staring until jimmy kicked you with his crutch. "cmon on y-y-y/n" you snapped out of it and proceeded to help the rest of the guys set up. making final adjustments and being ready to perform.

"alright guys, you guys ready?"

"ready!"

"alright.. 1 .. 2 .. 3.."

the jimmy started to bang his drumsticks, and then kenny started with his bass.

you were their lead singer, as you were ready to begin singing you tried to get into the mindset, you know what song was first and it was a song you composed for stan. nobody really knows what the real reason was for the song, you just lied to them saying its based on a scene from a movie you saw.

you took one last deep breath, looking to your left you saw stan, smiling at you and nodding to you, signifying you'll do great. stan knew whenever you were scared or nervous... and knew what to do to calm you down.

you started singing, keeping in the rhythm by tapping your foot, you started to gain confidence as the chorus began to start. you took the microphone off the stand

send you my love on a wire

lift you up everytime

everyone, ooh

pulls away, ooh

from you

you were dancing and whipping your hair to the beat, staining the microphone with your red lipstick, moving your body to the beat and feeling the confidence rise up, when you saw everyone in a big pile, you did the unthinkable, you dived into them, crowd surfing the decent sized group of people, you were laughing and thanked the people who brought you back onto stage.

stan couldn't believe you just did that, he knew you were extroverted but didnt know it to this extent. he fell in love with you all over again. it almost pained him that you were no longer his, because of him, because of how stupid he was with words, how he lost the most important person in his life, the person that made life bearable. he wish he would fix it, could fix your guy's relationship.

the song was ending and you made sure to dance to the every end. as you guys were wrapping up, you had a 30 minute intermission before the last song. You got out to find yourself a drink, heading into the kitchen, it was a really big kitchen, marble countertops and porcelain walls. you found yourself the jungle juice they had, a bit strong for your liking so you only pour yourself a little bit. stan saw you and as he was about to go over and hopefully have a genuine conversation, some prep looking guy came up to you instead. he stood there observing, almost like a creep, but he means well

"hey! im clyde's cousin derek!' he semi shouted

"oh hey!, great party you have here"

"thank you, hey you were really great up there, you have such a great voice, and your performance skills is amazing, that crowd surf has everyone talking about it!"

you were a bit embarrassed that you actually did that. "yeahh sorry about that, i dont know what got into me. i dont usually do that, i just sing and dance really" you chuckled shamelessly

"nah nah you're good!" he looked at you with lustful eyes, he was getting close to you... like really close. you didnt really want to but he were craving the lips of somebody's. Stan was watching this all unravel and he started clenching his jaws. He immediately swooped in and grabbed you by your arm.

"hey whats your problem?!" he ignored your shouts, until he took you in a coat closet. he was intensely looking at you. unfortunatley he was a couple inches taller then you so you had to look up at him. there was this energy that made the temperature in the closet hotter.

"y/n"

"'y-yeah stan"

"im sorry..."

"for what?"

"im sorry for being a horrible boyfriend, i should've never shut you out, nor ignore you when you needed me the most. im so so sorry y/n.. and- and i cant stand you being with other guys, i cnat stand the fact they get to kiss you instead of me- i want to be the only guy holding you, kissing you, caressing you, everything, i want you to me mine... and only mine.. no one else's."

you were in a sort of shock, you didn't know what to say. the thing that you could say was, "stan i-"

you kissed him so passionately, he reacted a second late until he started to kiss you back.

"jump"

he said. you oblied to what he said and jumped. you wrapped you legs around his torso gripping him tight into your embrace, he started to kiss you down to your neck, making you lean your head back into the wall, moaning at the sensatiuon he gave once he found your sweet spot

"oh god, how i missed those noises that come out that pretty mouth of yours"

this made you even more wet then you were before. in a swift motion he took off your dress to reveal your through lace bra, your harden nipples poking out. He pinched them through the fabric, making you moan out in pleasure. You were loud since there was music playing, so no one could hear you scream in pleasure.

you were left in your underwear and bra, stan removed your underwear and started to rub circles in between your lips, using your wetness to lube up his fingers to slowly glide them in. making quenching noises as he pumped in and out of you at very slow pace. His thick fingers making it hurt to fully consume him. He moaned to the feeling of your warm spongy walls trying so hard to take him fully, and this was just his fingers.

"fuck stan, please go faster please.. please" you were begging for more, this drives stan crazy but he wanted to take his time with you, he wanted to make you feel good, make you only scream his name.

"yeah? you want me to go faster? cmon.. y/n enjoy this moment with me"

he started to pump even faster, catching you off guard. you gripped on his shoulders, trying to calm your breathing.

"yeah like that, yes!"

"i just remembered you were gonna kiss that douche out there"

he stopped his movements, and quickly pulled out his fingers

"fuck stan!" you exclaimed

he unbuckled his pants and pulled both his pants and boxers down, revealing his long, red, needy, tip. You smiled at his leaky tip, shakily rubbing all the precum all over his sensitive tip.

he moaned and bit his lip, "you like that?"

you kissed him one last time, "fuck stan, please- please just-just shove it in me"

he wasted no time, and roughly pounded in you. you held a tight grip around his waist and shoulders. he held onto your waist, watching himself disappear into you wet cunt. you had moved your head to the side moaning and winning at the pleasure you were enduring.

you were so close and so was he. he grunting became whinning and whimpers. you held onto his face looking at his beautiful eyes

he breifly looked down and back up you

"y/n im gonna-im gonna cum"

"me-me too"

"i love you"

he pounded one last time into you and let his seed fill you up to the brim. your cum and his began to drip down to the floor, he stood there a moment. both of you trying to regain energy and steading your breath.

you got off of him and leaned back onto the wall. Trying to process everything that went down.

“I love you too”

you both smiled, and cleaned yourselves up. Until both of you heard a loud knock.

“Cmon you fucking weirdos, we have to do our last song!” Kenny shouted from the other side.. "also stan your a hypocrite, you said no hoo-"

"yeah yeah i know what i said"

you both laughed and continued cleaning the closet of any unwanted substance

“y/n I do really love you”

“I know stan… I love you too”

[patricia-taxxon]

almost every video game relies on association to some degree. the entire concept of wordless tutorializing relies on the game assuming you'll make the associations it wants you to make. i think the only puzzle games that dont have any reliance on association are Zachtronics games , pure logic puzzles like Tametsi or pen and paper puzzles that give you all the rules upfront. Stephen's Sausage Roll is almost pure logic, but the way it conveys its mechanics through experimentation and level design means at certain points the game presents a puzzle that cant be solved through simply combining the mechanics you already know (Cold Jag and Dead End come to mind personally) Obviously theres degrees between a game like Stephen's Sausage roll, which id argue has a few major association moments, and a game like Return of the Obra Dinn, which relies so much on specifically literary / narrative associations it was nearly impossible to translate to other languages. I think that the reason one feels like association and one doesn't is simply because of familiarity with video games in general and sokoban puzzle games in particular - theres certain expectations that Stephen's Sausage Roll conforms to. The possibility space is more limited. The interactions are mostly physics based which gives them a sense of intuitiveness that eases the few points that require small leaps of logic or association to work. I think often even in pure puzzle games, these moments of association are the most satisfying and memorable parts of the game (again, Dead End in SSR). I don't think its "association vs no association" its "associations i like vs ones i dont like"

I disagree completely with the premise. I don't think the best moments of SSR were when new associations were made that you had to bring to the game yourself, and I think the game genuinely remains free of such moments for nearly all of its puzzles. Dead End is indeed the single riddle-y moment in the game, but Cold Jag absolutely is not. That puzzle's solution follows from the behavior of Stephen's legs as they push off of things beneath him. The good parts of SSR are indeed the parts where you just put the things the game taught you to use in measured logical steps, and the single part where you need to make a new assumption not given by the game in order to progress is the one part I dislike.

SSR, and especially its understudy Can of Wormholes let you discover their more kooky interactions by pure inevitability. It is almost impossible not to accidentally get a sausage resting on your head while you fruitlessly fiddle with the sudden jenga tower difficulty spike puzzle for several minutes, so when the puzzles begin requiring such a thing, you already have the necessary associations. Can of Wormholes is even more direct, just giving you puzzles that all but force your hand to discover whatever new consequence of the system is being played with. I enjoy puzzle games where the rules and consequences are transparent and knowable, where the difficulty is in applying things that I know for certain, where rules and interactions build into a unifying theory.

[limbuscompanysituations]

Good day

Which of the sinners do you believe would be most likely to be yanderes/yandere headcanons?

Many thanks

After giving it some thought (under the cut because it became longer than expected):

Yi Sang: Unlikely. He's very puppy/good boy coded. He could never do anything if he saw the target of his admiration wasn't into it. He might, I don't know, jerk off thinking about them then cry?

Faust: Likely. Faust is a genius and if you don't think so, she also knows every outcome. There isn't a single world in which the one she admires isn't into her.

Don Quixote: So likely it hurts the scale of likelihood here. I'm glad I'm not ranking them from most to least likely, or else she would break everything. She knows everything about her crush. She has everything her crush could ever want. And if she doesn't? She will acquire it one way or another. Also even if they say clearly they don't want a single thing to do with her, she will take the "oh it's forbidden love" route and go behind their back to be their "knight in shining armor". Everything she does is in her beloved's best interests. Living her best delusional life.

Ryoshu: She might look like it but no, actually not likely. Don't get me wrong, she's very into whoever she likes, but they have to be a little bit obsessed with her or else it won't work. They have to breach the gap. If not it just turns into artistic obsession, which she deals with by slicing them up a little bit and immortalizing them in agony.

Meursault: Likely. He will make an entire plan with several steps on how to best conquer the one he desires the most. He's going for the most efficient path here and will not care if he has to mentally/emotionally/physically manipulate them as long as he conquers his end goal. Now the tricky part is to get him to have such a visceral interest in somebody. He might lose interest about halfway through planning, who knows?

Hong Lu: Unlikely. Some of his other IDs may be more prone to obsessive tendencies, but he's very... free-spirited at his core. If his crush doesn't want anything to do with him, he will be upset and gloomy about it but he will move on. He gives me the impression of a person who's had to give up many things, even in his life of luxuries. I don't think he'd put much effort to get them.

Heathcliff: Likely, but in a pathetic way. I don't think he's much efficient at this whole obsession thing. He wants to please them but he wants to be loved back. The second part is vital here. Other than him needing their absolute love and approval, he might try to conquer them, fail, get sad/angry about it, go on a journey to better himself so they will for sure feel so stupid for dumping him and then end up not going back? I don't know where I've seen this before...

Ishmael: Likely. And she will go after them. Time after time after time, she will go back to them. She's super smart and she will play the long game to get what she wants too. Prone to planning like Meursault, but much less clinical about it. She will not stop until they are the one obsessed with her. Absolutely and completely loyal and dependent on her.

Rodion: Unlikely. Just like her good buddy Hong Lu, she's very free-spirited. She likes when others are drooling after her because then she can use them as she pleases. She doesn't like this obsessive feeling so she might just take a good distance from her crush and see how it works out for her.

Sinclair: Likely but oh boy this one's hard. This little guy has so many anger issues, as well as self image issues. He will change every aspect of himself to get them to notice him. He will internalize his anger as best as he can, as he is worried about hurting others. But there's only so much of this anger his internal self can take, and once it explodes out of him, he might forcefully try to get control over his crush. He will feel like shit for it and he will hate himself more, but he will reason that they were the one to push him to doing unreasonable things. This route can only leave to a tragic ending for both.

Outis: Likely, but she's tricky... Outis can play the long game, as well as any role she's given. She will become what her beloved wants the most, as a way of having their absolute attention and affection. This façade may crack at times, though. If they ever grow averse to her then she will consider kidnapping and other options.

Gregor: Unlikely. He's old and tired. If his crush doesn't like him, he will take the Yi Sang route (jerk off facedown in bed and cry). He will get over it pretty fast too. He's low energy when it comes to emotional matters. Being obsessed about somebody who doesn't want anything to do with him will lower his emotional energy even further. Might grow lethargic while he tries to get over them.

Bonus people:

Vergilius: Unlikely. He doesn't think he deserves anything good in his life. His eyes will glow brighter as he stares at his crush, and he will be taken by an intense desire to have them closer, but then he will turn away and wallow in his own misery. Even if they wanted him, he wouldn't indulge. Having any connection to him will only lead to tragedy.

Dante: WILDCARD. They have a lot going on for them to pick up an obsession. Between figuring out who they are to figuring out where they should go, there's little to no time remaining to even think about pursuing a crush. Now here's where the wildcard part comes from. Even with their memories completely wiped, it is possible that some strong feelings from their previous life could remain. Maybe they will see that special one out on the street one day, and they will not know why, but they will desire them so strongly it makes them feel dizzy. Might even go crazy trying to figure out who this stranger is and why do they want them so bad.