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flamingpudding · 5 months

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I had a crack idea that I was thinking of so you know in Dan is Klarion au I was imagining a au based off of that one where all of Danny's children are Klarion is like the robin thing for Batman it started off with Danielle when nabu insulted Danny as the Ghost King and Balance

Ever since Ellie decided that she needed to get back in blood so she made the chaotic antihero Klarion and and her suppose it familiar 'cat' Teekl the way to help out her mother and mess with Dr Fate/Nabu Teekl is actually a bear with an illusion on that makes him look like a cat in the human's eyes

Whatever since the anti-hero Klarion in The Phantom family has been passed down each of them giving their own flair to the persona of Klarion with a different animal every time that they had pretending to be a cat

Tell her to finally passed on to Dan it is an honorary sibling thing each of them has their own antihero name once they passed down the title of Klarion

Diana's query and takes after his father's style of dressing and his tickle is a phoenix

First of Thanks for the Ask! Inspirational as always! Helps with my writers block [insert awkward laugh]

Either way because this is split in two asks... you get two version! One focused on how it started and the other on the reveal! Though the might be some little Shorts... Also there is something really funny to me about a giant bear letting Illusionen into a cat... So Enjoy!

(BTW still thinking over the other ask... and working on it don't worry!)

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Ellie huffed as Danny reprimanded her for her actions. She just huffed crossing her arms. She was just helping Danny. Her mom got a lot on his shoulders and she as the sort of oldest saw that the best. Sure technically Dan was older then her but, he shrunk down to kid level again and now she was the oldest.

Well if she ignored her other brothers but they were only saved recently and still in treatment with Frostbite. So she was the oldest. End of story.

"Ellie you can't just go off like that you know that messing with an Ancient is not-"

"Mom, That Nabu-Guy was being a pain in the a- " - "Ellie!" - "A PAIN, babbling on to much about Order here Order there. How keeping Balance means keeping Order and bla bla bla!" She cut in stopping her mom before he could go on another rant about the Ancients, she needed to treat with respect.

"He doesn't respect you, the Ancient of Balance! You are the literal Symbol of Balance between Life and Death! Aside from being the Ghost King. So of course I had to mess with the one HE mentors!" Ellie added huffing as she crossed her arms.

Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ellie, you created an entire alternate persona!"

"Yea so?"

"You used an illusion spell on Fluffels!"

"And? Any good Anit-Hero needs a Mascot." Ellie shrugged once more looking up at her mom before looking over to Fluffels, her pet ghost grizzly that was pretty much double maybe even tripple her size and the fluffiest ghost grizzly you could find in the entire Ghost Zone, and the cutest.

Danny on the other hand groaned, wondering if he had done anything wrong while raising Danielle. Sure he had been a teen himself but good damit why the hell did Ellie decided messing with the Ancient of Order or rather his mentee was a good idea. "I am calling Jazz! You can explain to her what you were thinking!"

He was definitely to overworked and stressed to deal with Ellies mischievousness right now. Well she did call her alternate persona Klarion, Lord of Chaos. Nope! He was not dealing with this right now, so Danny did the sanest thing he could think of. Turning on his heel and walking away. Where to? Who cares maybe he would check in with his old man Clockwork and see what Ellie had actually been up to, instead of just reading through Nabu's complains.

Ellie on the other hand blinked watching her mom leave before calling after him. "Does that mean I have to stop, being Klarion?"

"Mom?!"

"MOM!"

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"Well hello my lovely Amadillos! Long time not seen!"

Ellie shouted cheerfully as she twirled into appearing hair styled into a horn like form, black suit and she might have over done it a little with the black eyeliner but hey it was an iconic look wasn't it. She smirked as Fluffles growled which translated into a meow for the mortals before her thank to the illusion spell.

The mortal teen looked up at her surprised as she floated down her hand glowing with red ectoplasm (a color change from her usual green ectoplasm that had taken a while to learn from Pandora). Young Justice was currently transporting something of interest to her. Well of Interest for the Justice League, really but Doctor Fate was involved which meant Nabu was involved, which naturally meant she would get involved. It didn't hurt that she would also get to try to try some new tricks.

"You got something interesting there... and I want that." She grinned. Ellie didn't give them long before she acted using the new tricks she had learned.

"Woah! Hey there, watch the pointy and sharp thowies!" She laughed making a quick shield as she blocked some batarangs and arrows before blinking.

"Hey they look different. Robin, did you change equipment? Did you get a new haircut too?" She asked curious but didn't really receive an answer as they ignored her questions and shouted something about distracting her while the others continue the transportation. Still she bend down to pick one of them up twirling it between her fingers. "What gives didn't they have a different design before?"

In hindsight it was probably not a good idea to just abandon her original goal but Robin was making her curious. And she could always find a different way to mess with Nabu. Her mom had given her an indirect okay years ago anyway.

"Teekl!" She called out and only her eyes could see how Fluffles jumped at the call growling in response as he swatted away some of the more annoying Young Justice kids. To the mortals it probably looked like Teekl was using ectoplasm, or well magic, in their eyes.

She used that change to go up into Robins face smirking widely as she looked at the other more closely, trying to get a read on him. "You are different! You aren't the same Robin I meet before!"

She ducked in time avoid Superboy as she hopped back excited with a new idea for her family.

But first she would have to deal with the little chaos and mischief she was creating.

------------------

".....and that is how I learned that the Robin title is getting passed down. So I was thinking of doing the same!" Ellie broadly stated looking at all her younger siblings before her. "We all get pretty annoyed with the way Nabu treats Mom so there always has to be a Lord of Chaos to 'balance' Nabu out!"

She grinned at her siblings expecting the same kind of excitement she had and they didn't disappoint. Danny had been there for all of them, even going so far as in to find a way with Clockwork to save some of their lives. So of course they all would jump at the change to mess with the one Ancient that was badmouthing their Mother just because Balance didn't entitle Order the way they wanted.

After all Chaos was needed to Balance Order out.

This was going to be fun...

[Follow up part Linked here]

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miaoua3 · 5 days

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Can we please get a Vernon head cannon… I struggle to find them on here but your svt ones are just amazing :))

hi! sure you can, and thank you so much for saying that, hope you enjoy this!

Vernon Boyfriend Headcanons:

•(sfw! hcs):

we all know that he is mostly silent throughout the day, but i truly believe that vernon would NOT be able to shut up with his significant other, he would be talking 24/7 to you, be prepared to hear about his day from the moment he woke up to the moment he came through the door of your apartment

throughout your relationship, you notice that your boyfriend has a problem. a very big and potentially dangerous problem. and that is that he brings all sorts of animals home. it started on one rainy night, he was supposed to be home 20 minutes ago but he was nowhere to be seen or heard. just as you were about to call him for the nth time, he came in through the door, drenched from head to toe from the heavy rain. and with three kittens in his arms. he didn’t even try to make any excuses, he just proceeded to say “i found them behind the dumpster two blocks away.”

we all know that he sleeps like a corpse, so naturally he wouldn’t cuddle you back while he’s asleep, but before that he definitely won’t let you out of his arms. he’s either talking your ear off or is casually scrolling through his phone. to be honest, it doesn’t matter what he’s doing, as long as you are in his arms he considers it time well spent. and just because he doesn’t cuddle you back during his sleep doesn’t mean you can’t do what you will lol, you can lie on him, hug him tightly and throw your leg over his stomach, he won’t care-but he also he won’t reciprocate it either because my man is just like this🧍

constantly shows you something on his phone, doesn’t matter what you are doing, you will just see his hand appear in front of your face before you even hear him say “babe look at this”, be it a meme or a cute cat video, he just wants you to see everything that he does too so you can enjoy it too

speaking off, kinda unpopular opinion but vernon definitely calls you babe or a nickname based on your name, i don’t really see him only calling you bro or dude like most claim he would do, i just don’t think he would go that overboard on cute nicknames either, but something small and cute just to signify both to himself and you, as well as to people around you that you two are together, and at the end of the day that would be a small way of him showing his love and affectionate for you

if you have a niece, count on vernon to ask you every other week with sparkly eyes if you can go and visit them, he just loves your niece so much even though he doesn’t really know how to play with her, he still loves her so much. even if he has to sit on a little pink chair with a tiara on his head while drinking ‘tea’ from a little pink cup, he doesn’t mind, as long as he gets to read her bed time stories when she goes to bed, he’s okay with it all❤️

i feel like everyone has already said this but vernon definitely has a big thing for showing you and sharing to you his love for music and movies. from making you new playlists with new songs he heard (and that remind him of you), to having a dedicated day of the week for movie nights, he just wants to have somebody that he can talk to about his favourite things so pls make sure to pay close attention to what he’s showing you :(

•(nsfw! hcs):

vernon strikes me as a man who wouldn’t have that high of a sex drive, but when he’s in a mood, count on the fact that you will be doing it for hours to no end and that you won’t be able to walk the next day. he will bend you in positions you didn’t even know you could be bent into, he will try out all the paces until he finds one that you enjoy the most that night. sex with vernon would never feel like chore but rather like a brand new and beautiful experience every single time

he actually gets really nervous before going on stage, so he always drags you into the nearest corner for a quickie or to eat you out or to have you suck his dick, for him it’s a great way to get all that pent up energy out (plus seeing you on your knees, with teary eyes as you struggle to wrap your mouth around his thick cock is something he can think about while on stage as a way to pass the time-)

if you ever thought that this man had a stone face and that he’s expressionless most of the time, that would change the very first time he fucked you-his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, his mouth opened as moans keep on spilling from his mouth, droplets of sweat sliding down his temple, a few landing onto you due to him hovering above you-yeah, let’s just say that he makes the prettiest faces and noises ever

prefers it when you ride him, especially after a hard day at work, there’s nothing he loves more than leaning on the backrest of the couch and letting you take care of him, as well as letting your wet pussy swallow him whole, he would just lay there with his eyes closed and let you do whatever you think he would enjoy-sucking on his neck, scratching his chest with your nails, whispering sweet and encouraging words in his ears- let’s just say that this is top 3 best feelings he could ever feel

has a thing for both biting and being bitten, just something about the sensation you feel when you’re being bitten is so hot to him-imagine feeling so good and so much pleasure that the only thing to stop from screaming and letting the whole world know how good you’re feeling is to bite his shoulder, it makes his brain go ckslcnsnqjqh

for some reason finds himself always fucking you in the most unusual places-on top of the kitchen counter, in the bathtub, behind some restaurant that is secluded enough but also not enough, on dino’s couch??? when he wasn’t even in his apartment??? he just…fucks you when he gets in the mood, no matter the time, place or the occasion

you can’t even dare to say to me that he doesn’t have a thing for cream pies, just the sight of his cum dripping from inside you, your pussy clenching around nothing before he pushes his cock back inside along with the cum that was just about to drip out-let’s just say every thought from his head (if he had any left due to the feeling of your pussy clenching around his dick) evaporates, only thing he can focus on is you and how good his cum looks like coating your lower lips i- i need him i fear

#seventeen #svt #svt x reader #fypシ #tumblr fyp #fypage #smut #vernon x reader #hansol vernon chwe #vernon #vernon x you

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trungles · 9 months

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Cross-posting an essay I wrote for my Patreon since the post is free and open to the public.

Hello everyone! I hope you're relaxing as best you can this holiday season. I recently went to see Miyazaki's latest Ghibli movie, The Boy and the Heron, and I had some thoughts about it. If you're into art historical allusions and gently cranky opinions, please enjoy. I've attached a downloadable PDF in the Patreon post if you'd prefer to read it that way. Apologies for the formatting of the endnotes! Patreon's text posting does not allow for superscripts, which means all my notations are in awkward parentheses. Please note that this writing contains some mild spoilers for The Boy and the Heron.

Hayao Miyazaki’s 2023 feature animated film The Boy and the Heron reads as an extended meditation on grief and legacy. The Master of a grand tower seeks a descendant to carry on his maddening duty, balancing toy blocks of magical stone upon which the entire fabric of his little pocket of reality rests. The world’s foundations are frail and fleeting, and can pass away into the cold void of space should he neglect to maintain this task. The Master’s desire to pass the torch undergirds much of the film’s narrative.

(Isle of the Dead. Arnold Böcklin. 1880. Oil on Canvas. Kunstmuseum. Basel, Switzerland.)

Arnold Böcklin, a Swiss Symbolist(1) painter, was born on October 16 in 1827, the same year the Swiss Evangelical Reformed Church bought a plot of land in Florence from the Grand Duke of Tuscany, Leopold II, that had long been used for the burials of Protestants around Florence. It is colloquially known as The English Cemetery, so called because it was the resting place of many Anglophones and Protestants around Tuscany, and Böcklin frequented this cemetery—his workshop was adjacent and his infant daughter Maria was buried there. In 1880, he drew inspiration from the cemetery, a lone plot of Protestant land among a sea of Catholic graveyards, and began to paint what would be the first of six images entitled Isle of the Dead. An oil on canvas piece, it depicts a moody little island mausoleum crowned with a gently swaying grove of cypresses, a type of tree common in European cemeteries and some of which are referred to as arborvitae. A figure on a boat, presumably Charon, ferries a soul toward the island and away from the viewer.

(Photo of The English Cemetery in Florence. Samuli Lintula. 2006.)

The Isle of the Dead paintings varied slightly from version to version, with figures and names added and removed to suit the needs of the time or the commissioner. The painting was glowingly referenced and remained fairly popular throughout the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The painting used to be inescapable in much of European popular culture. Professor Okulicz-Kozaryn, a philologist (someone with a deep interest in the ways language and cultural canons evolve)(2) observed that the painting, like many other works in its time, was itself iterative and became widely reiterated and referenced among its contemporaries. It became something like Romantic kitsch in the eyes of modern art critics, overwrought and excessively Byronic. I imagine Miyazaki might also resent a work of that level of manufactured ubiquity, as Miyazaki famously held Disney animated films in contempt (3). Miyazaki’s films are popularly aspirational to young animators and cartoonists, but gestures at imitation typically fall well short, often reducing Miyazaki’s weighty films to kitschy images of saccharine vibes and a lazy indulgence in a sort of empty magical domestic coziness. Being trapped in a realm of rote sentiment by an uncritical, unthoughtful viewership is its own Isle of Death.

(Still from The Boy and the Heron, 2023. Studio Ghibli.)

The Boy and the Heron follows a familiar narrative arc to many of Miyazaki’s other films: a child must journey through a magical and quietly menacing world in order to rescue their loved ones. This arc is an echo of Satsuki’s journey to find Mei in My Neighbor Totoro (1988) and Chihiro’s journey to rescue her parents Spirited Away (2001). To better understand Miyazaki’s fixation with this particular character journey, it can be instructive to watch Lev Atamanov’s 1957 animated film, The Snow Queen (4)(5), a beautifully realized take on Hans Christian Andersen’s 1844 children’s story (6)(7). Mahito’s journey continues in this tradition, as the boy travels into a painted world to rescue his new stepmother from a mysterious tower.

Throughout the film, Miyazaki visually references Isle of the Dead. Transported to a surreal world, Mahito initially awakens on a little green island with a gated mausoleum crowned with cypress trees. He is accosted by hungry pelicans before being rescued by a fisherwoman named Kiriko. After a day of catching and gutting fish, Mahito wakes up under the fisherwoman’s dining table, surrounded by kokeshi—little wooden dolls—in the shapes of the old women who run Mahito’s family’s rural household. Mahito is told they must not be touched, as the kokeshi are wards set up for his protection. There is a popular urban legend associated with the kokeshi wherein they act as stand-ins for victims of infanticide, though there seems to be very little available writing to support this legend. Still, it’s a neat little trick that Miyazaki pulls, placing a stray reference to a local legend of unverifiable provenance that persists in the popular imagination, like the effect of fairy stories passed on through oral retellings, continually remolded each new iteration.

(Still from The Boy and the Heron, 2023. Studio Ghibli.)

Kiriko’s job in this strange landscape is to catch fish to nourish unborn spirits, the adorable floating warawara, before they can attempt to ascend on a journey into the world of the living. Their journey is thwarted by flocks of supernatural pelicans, who swarm the warawara and devour them. This seems to nod to the association of pelicans with death in mythologies around the world, especially in relationship to children (8). Miyazaki’s pelicans contemplate the passing of their generations as each successive generation seems to regress, their capacity to fulfill their roles steadily diminishing.

(Still from The Boy and the Heron, 2023. Studio Ghibli.)

As Mahito’s adventure continues, we find the landscapes changing away from Böcklin’s Isle of the Dead into more familiar Ghibli territories as we start to see spaces inspired by one of Studio Ghibli’s aesthetic mainstays, Naohisa Inoue and his explorations of the fantasy realms of Iblard. He might be most familiar to Ghibli enthusiasts as the background artists for the more fantastical elements of Whisper of the Heart (1995).

(Naohisa Inoue, for Iblard Jikan, 2007. Studio Ghibli.)

By the time we arrive at the climax of The Boy and the Heron, the fantasy island environment starts to resemble English takes on Italian gardens, the likes of which captivated illustrators and commercial artists of the early 20th century such as Maxfield Parrish. This appears to be a return to one of Böcklin’s later paintings, The Island of Life (1888), a somewhat tongue-in-cheek reaction to the overwhelming presence of Isle of the Dead in his life and career. The Island of Life depicts a little spot of land amid an ocean very like the one on which Isle of the Dead’s somber mausoleum is depicted, except this time the figures are lively and engaged with each other, the vegetation lush and colorful, replete with pink flowers and palm fronds.

(Island of Life. Arnold Böcklin. Oil on canvas. 1888. Kunstmuseum. Basel, Switzerland.)

In 2022, Russia’s State Hermitage Museum in Saint Petersburg acquired the sixth and final Isle of the Dead painting. In the last year of his life, Arnold Böcklin would paint this image in collaboration with his son Carlo Böcklin, himself an artist and an architect. Arnold Böcklin spent three years painting the same image three times over at the site of his infant daughter’s grave, trapped on the Isle of the Dead. By the time of his death in 1901 at age 74, Böcklin would be survived by only five of his fourteen children. That the final Isle of the Dead painting would be a collaboration between father and son seemed a little ironic considering Hayao Miyazaki’s reticence in passing on his own legacy. Like the old Master in The Boy and the Heron, Miyazaki finds himself with no true successors.

The Master of the Tower's beautiful islands of painted glass fade into nothing as Mahito, his only worthy descendant, departs to live his own life, fulfilling the thesis of Genzaburo Yoshino’s 1937 book How Do You Live?, published three years after Carlo Böcklin’s death. In evoking Yoshino and Böcklin’s works, Hayao Miyazaki’s The Boy and the Heron suggests that, like his character the Master, Miyazaki himself must make peace with the notion that he has no heirs to his legacy, and that those whom he wished to follow in his footsteps might be best served by finding their own paths.

(Isle of the Dead. Arnold and Carlo Böcklin. Oil on canvas. 1901. The State Hermitage Museum. Saint Petersburg, Russia.)

INFORMAL ENDNOTES

1 - Symbolists are sort of tough to nail down. They were started as a literary movement to 1 distinguish themselves from the Decadents, but their manifesto was so vague that critics and academics fight about it to this day. The long and the short of it is that the Symbolists made generous use of a lot of metaphorical imagery in their work. They borrow a lot of icons from antiquity, echo the moody aesthetics from the Romantics, maintained an emphasis on figurative imagery more so than the Surrealists, and were only slightly more technically married to the trappings of traditionalist academic painters than Modernists and Impressionists. They're extremely vibes-forward.

2 - Okulicz-Kozaryn, Radosław. Predilection of Modernism for Variations. Ciulionis' Serenity among Different Developments of the Theme of Toteninsel. ACTA Academiae Artium Vilnensis 59. 2010. The article is incredibly cranky and very funny to read in parts. Contains a lot of observations I found to be helpful in placing Isle of the Dead within its context.

3 - "From my perspective, even if they are lightweight in nature, the more popular and common films still must be filled with a purity of emotion. There are few barriers to entry into these films-they will invite anyone in but the barriers to exit must be high and purifying. Films must also not be produced out of idle nervousness or boredom, or be used to recognise, emphasise, or amplify vulgarity. And in that context, I must say that I hate Disney's works. The barrier to both the entry and exit of Disney films is too low and too wide. To me, they show nothing but contempt for the audience." from Miyazaki's own writing in his collection of essays, Starting Point, published in 2014 from VIZ Media.

4 - You can watch the movie here in its original Russian with English closed captions here.

5 If you want to learn more about the making of Atamanoy's The Snow Queen, Animation Obsessive wrote a neat little article about it. It's a good overview, though I have to gently disagree with some of its conclusions about the irony of Miyazaki hating Disney and loving Snow Queen, which draws inspiration from Bambi. Feature film animation as we know it hadonly been around a few decades by 1957, and I find it specious, particularly as a comic artistand author, to see someone conflating an entire form with the character of its content, especially in the relative infancy of the form. But that's just one hot take. The rest of the essay is lovely.

6 - Miyazaki loves this movie. He blurbed it in a Japanese re-release of it in 2007.

7 - Julia Alekseyeva interprets Princess Mononoke as an iteration of Atamanov's The Snow Queen, arguing that San, the wolf princess, is Miyazaki's homage to Atamanoy's little robber girl character.

8 - Hart, George. The Routledge Dictionary of Egyptian Gods And Goddesses. Routledge Dictionaries. Abingdon, United Kingdom: Routledge. 2005.

#hayao miyazaki #the boy and the heron #how do you live #arnold böcklin #carlo böcklin #symbolists #symbolism #animation #the snow queen #lev atamanov #naohisa inoue #the endnotes are very very informal aksjlsksakjd #sorry to actual essayists

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nejiweek · 6 months

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NEJI WEEK RULES

Hello!! Thank you very much for taking a look at this event! Here are a few basic rules for the event (These are subject to change at any time):

Please be respectful to your fellow Naruto fans! This is meant to be a fun and casual event for us to celebrate Neji!

Please create new work for this event!

Writing, art, gif sets, playlists, etc. are welcome to participate!

Using AI to create pieces for this event WILL NOT BE TOLERATED. If it is discovered that AI is used in any way for any piece, the creator will be BLOCKED AND BANNED from participating in any future events.

Please interpret the prompts however you'd like!

When posting your work for the event, please use the hashtag #NejiWeek2024 and/or tag the Tumblr page! @nejiweek

Content containing problematic content/ships (i*ncest, p*edo, etc.) WILL NOT BE TOLERATED. If it is discovered those themes are in any content made for this event, the creator will be BLOCKED AND BANNED from participating in any future events.

Please keep all works at nothing higher than a PG13/T for Teen rating. (The anime and manga are typically rated 13+, so consider using that as a baseline)

Late submissions WILL BE ACCEPTED!!! Simply use the same tag and/or tag the blog! If your work is not reblogged in a few days, please feel free to send a message (Sometimes Tumblr messes up and doesn't show tagged posts)!

You do not have to do every prompt or day. If you are able to create work for every prompt or day, wonderful! But please do not feel obligated to do every single one. This is meant to be fun and casual!

Please tag all works containing any sort of shipping with the respective ship. For example, if your work contains NejiLee, please be sure to place the ship name in the tags. For “x reader” and “x oc” content, please place those in the tags. This will make it easier for filtering and searching. I will also be sure to include ship names in the tags when I reblog here.

Please refrain from character bashing. This applies to Neji and any other characters. This is meant to be a fun and positive experience after all! (This does not mean there cannot be conflict between characters.)

HAVE FUN!!!

#nejiweek2024 #neji week #neji week 2024 #neji hyuga #neji #neji hyuuga #neji hyūga #hyuga neji #hyuuga neji #hyuga #hyuuga #naruto #naruto shippuuden #naruto shippuden #shippuden #shippuuden #mod speaks

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riririnnnn · 6 months

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I tried choking myself like this and oh boy it was such an awful experience—it felt as if someone had placed a really heavy stone over my head Don't try it, not worth it at all, I promise. 0/10, wouldn't recommend.

To choke yourself to the point where saliva is pooling out of your mouth and for you to cough like an asthmatic person, your airway passage must be blocked which means that this dude was really going at it.

So, let's talk about him:

What Kaiser has for Isagi now isn't rivalry anymore, it has become a near obsession and keeping their ship aside, they actually have a pretty unique kind of relation—they both want to get ahead in the path of their soccer career and un/fortunately, they both just happen to be the best stepping stone for eachother right now.

Since the very first time Kaiser was introduced, he had made it clear that Isagi was some sort of a pawn for him to get ahead in his soccer career and that's what Ness also said here:

And Kaiser's words seemed to match Ness' words too:

And I don't blame Kaiser for choosing Isagi to be his rival.

You see, it's tough to truly understand how much impact Isagi's goal had in the BLLK universe. The investors and club owners were literally putting pressure on Noa to make Isagi play—defeating such a boy and proving that you are better than him is a perfect way for literally anyone to increase their value; it fits even well for Kaiser since they both are in the same age group too.

But, the recent chapters, especially after BM Vs Ubers match ended, confused me more. Royale Madrid/Re Al is said to be the strongest/best soccer club in the whole world in BLLK universe, so it indirectly means that Kaiser's value increased—it actually did increase though, about ¥20 millions and Ness' reaction perfectly sums what I want to say:

Kaiser achieved what he had came for in NEL to achieve.

However, we all know what his reaction was: he didn't care, all he cared was that he was inferior to Isagi.

...why?

Like, it just doesn't make sense. He got what he wanted. Besides, Kaiser has a value of ¥320M meanwhile Isagi is still behind Rin and Rin is himself behind Kaiser by ¥100M+! Further, every team has man-marked Kaiser right away! He is already perceived as some kind of threat by every opponent team, what more he wants? Is it some pride thing of boys that I don't understand?

It just feels.. weird.

If Kaiser were to be a real narcissist, then I don't think that he would've accepted so easily that Noa is better than him and that he can't compete against him.

The above statement sends me back to this again:

Chris words can be considered as something said just to provoke Kaiser which worked a bit too perfectly well. I don't know why, but the above panel seems much more important to the story, especially to his character when we glance at this panel:

Just.. what the heck is this guy's backstory!?

I must say that he is very well written and honestly, when Blue Lock Manga ends, Kaneshiro-san can literally make a spin-off of him and the Fandom will inhale it instantly. I wish Itoshi brothers had one too.

When NEL starts in the anime, I hope an official BLLKTV/BLLKTWT app gets launch. Istg it'll be a massive hit.

#blue lock #bllk #michael kaiser #雪 ranting

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directdogman · 5 months

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Question! Are there going to be any support animals in the game or in the future? Ik Jerry has a bunch of sheep and German Shepard, but ifk if they were shown as support animals or not, and I dont remember if their was actualy any mention of a support animal already so of their was apoligies for that!

I just think it be good representation and also be good for fun intreactoins :3

I mean- have you seen Randy and Norm? Those two need some sort of support animal/pos

it's funny you mention this, i was planning to write a lil thing about Gingi going through animal support training since my childhood dog tried to get certified as a support animal and failed and I figured the same exact thing would happen to Gingi.

Basically, I imagine Gingi's friends had the idea that it'd make a good support animal since it's dated so many people around town and approved their lives, but during training, freaked out during that part where the animal has to sit in a room while someone walks around it using a cane in an exaggerated/noisy way (as a stress test to make sure the animal won't freak out in any circumstance around them.)

Gingi savaged the cane. Gingi's friends appealed to have gingi repeat the test, but Mayor Mingus blocked it because she uses a valuable cane and the last thing she wants is for Gingi to begin instinctively mauling canes.

(There's also therapy-emus in Roger's route, but they don't do the job awfully well. bc they're emus. roger doesn't get the connection.)

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wolken-himmel · 2 years

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In which Leona brings (Y/n) a half-dead rabbit from a hunt. But what first looked like some sort of sick joke may have been more than that.

Like a beastfolk gesture to show affection.

Requested by anon.

"What did you do now, Leona?!"

A horrified scowl decorated your face, and you jolted backwards at once. All the while, you couldn't take your eyes off the sight in front of you: a trembling and very much dishevelled rabbit. Leona held the small animal by its neck, dangling it in the air.

"What do you mean?" the dorm leader asked in confusion.

As soon as he let go of the animal, you dashed forward to scoop it up into your arms. The poor rabbit looked frightened out of its mind, trembling and wailing like it feared for its death. At first, it thrashed around in your arms — but as soon as it realised that you meant no harm, it buried its head deeper into your shoulder. You hummed softly and continued to cradle it in your arms.

"The poor thing! You almost scared it to death, Leona..." you cried out angrily. "Look at the frightened bunny..."

The beastman furrowed his eyebrows further. "I don't get it. Why are you crying?" he asked in genuine confusion.

His baffled scowl infuriated you even more. But before you could explode with anger and worry, you decided to focus your attention on the still shivering rabbit in your grasp. You tenderly brushed its ears back and buried your face in its soft fur. "Everything will be alright..." you cooed and felt its shivering lessen. "Worry not, I will protect you from the evil predator. He won't hurt you anymore."

"Really? Now I'm the bad guy?" Leona quirked an eyebrow in disbelief.

"You're the one who hurt this innocent creature."

An annoyed growl escaped his throat at your words. He narrowed his eyes at you, but you didn't seem intimidated in the slightest. On the contrary, you tightened your hold on the rabbit and glared back at him.

"Has no one explained to you yet that this is the cycle of life?"

"Perhaps so," you shot back. "But I don't appreciate you bringing me a half-dead rabbit. What kind of strange joke is this?"

Leona felt his ears flatten against his head and his hands tighten into fists. With every second he spent watching you coddle the rabbit, he grew more angry — until he couldn't take it anymore. Finally, he threw his hands into the air. "Fine, do whatever you want," he growled and whipped around to stomp away. "Keep the rabbit. I don't care." Without another word, he exited the courtyard.

Behind the doors, Ruggie was already waiting for him. "So that didn't go as planned?" the hyena asked sheepishly while running after his dorm leader.

"No."

Ruggie let out a little sigh, a little bit breathless by the other's quick pace. "The prefect must have misunderstood your intentions," he muttered comfortingly. "And you didn't even care to explain what this gesture meant."

"Whatever. It happened."

Again, Ruggie exhaled — although this time, annoyance echoed in his voice. "Don't you dare 'whatever' me..." he grumbled under his breath and rolled his eyes. Finally, unable to continue this hellish quick pace, he jumped in front of Leona and blocked his path. A look of determination flashed across the hyena's face. "Listen, why don't you apologise to (Y/n) and then explain everything properly?"

"No way," Leona grumbled and tried to shove his fellow dorm member out of the way.

Much to his dismay, Ruggie dodged his hands easily. A few snickers even escaped the hyena's lips. "I understand that it's embarrassing. I mean... wasn't this your first attempt of courting the prefect—"

"Don't you dare continue, hyena."

"Look, someone's embarrassed!" Ruggie's laughter grew even louder.

By then, Leona had covered his ears with his hands, his eyes scrunched up in exasperation. His lips were pursed into a thin line, yet he eventually managed to press out, "Fine, I'll go talk to the herbivore if you'll stop pestering me..." The ceasing laughter made him open his eyes to find a giant grin on his fellow beastman's face.

"It's a deal!" Ruggie looked satisfied, without a doubt — a little bit smug, too. "Oh, what would you do without me, dorm leader?"

"All of this was your idea in the first place, anyway... The herbivore wouldn't be angry at me if it weren't for you."

Despite the tension in the air, the second-year merely began laughing loudly. With his hands behind his head, he leisurely walked away, now that he had achieved his goal. "Well, perhaps you took one step backwards... but this is your chance to take two forward!" he threw over his shoulder, grinning. "If you catch my drift~"

It was later that day when Leona found the perfect opportunity to speak to you again. Seated on a bench in the botanical garden, you were watching in glee as your newfound rabbit friend hopped in circles around you. The small animal seemed to be back to normal, joyful and lively whenever you brushed its ears.

Yet, as soon as it sensed his presence in the area, the small rabbit immediately darted over to you and leapt into your arms. There, it quivered and shivered, trying to press its tiny body even further into your chest. Confusion laced your voice when you asked the rabbit what was wrong — only to realise the answer yourself when a familiar voice reached your ears.

"Herbivore."

Slowly, you glanced up to find a familiar lion beastman towering over you. At once, you narrowed your eyes and mustered the angriest glare you could send him. "Oh, it's you..." you grumbled and comforted the rabbit gently.

Leona let out a small sigh. "Is the... rabbit alright?"

"Yes, Mr. Cuddles is doing much better now."

"You already named the fluff ball?" He quirked his eyebrows in amusement, especially when he noticed how your cheeks warmed up slightly. When you merely avoided his gaze, flustered, he began chuckling to himself. "Don't tell me you're planning to keep him."

"No..." After having pressed a kiss to the rabbit's head, you let out a disappointed sigh. "Sadly, Ramshackle is no place to keep a bunny. I mean, all the dust can't be good for them."

The dorm leader huffed in satisfaction. "Good."

"Is there anything else you wanted from me?" you asked after a while of silence had passed. The rabbit, despite your attempts of comforting it, still felt uneasy, based on the way it wiggled and shivered.

Leona tensed up at your question. "Yes..." A dreadful sigh escaped his lips, and the tension in his shoulders seemed to reach its highpoint. His eyes darkened in conflict, but he eventually whispered, "I'm here to apologise?"

"You make it sound like a question." You quirked an eyebrow mockingly.

His apologetic attitude went out of the window at once, and he instead began growling. And this time, you were so caught off-guard that you shrank into yourself. With his ears pressed flat against his head, he asked in frustration, "Do you know why I gave you the rabbit?" You were about to spit another witty comeback, but he stopped you before you could open your mouth. "I hunted it for you. It's a gesture of caring for one another — showing affection and what not..."

The way his voice became quieter and quieter — you knew that he was being genuine about the situation. So, with your mouth open in confusion, you merely cried out, "You... care for me?" The surprise in your voice turned into smugness once he pursed his lips and remained silent.

"Not if you continue to grin like that, herbivore."

Your lips morphed into a wide and bright smile, and all the hostility you had harboured against him suddenly disappeared. A sheepish chuckle escaped your lips. "I mean... no bunnies were harmed in the process," you trailed off playfully. "So, thank you for the gesture? I appreciate it. But you don't expect me to hunt you a rabbit, do you?"

This time, it was his turn to grin in satisfaction. "Now that would be a funny idea."

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #reader insert #y/n #disney twst #twst x you #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #twst leona #twst leona kingscholar #twst leona x reader #gender neutral reader

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plantsjustwannahavefun · 1 year

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I keep seeing so many people here getting angry that this season is "vilifying Ed", and it's depressingly fascinating to see how others can watch the same show and somehow see something completely different. Is it simply the lack of media literacy? Is it the inability to appreciate and enjoy complex, nuanced, morally grey characters without willfully blocking out anything even slightly unpalatable about them to the point where the character they think they love isn't really that character anymore?

Because, uh... Season 1 already "vilified" Ed plenty. Except "vilify" is the wrong word, of course. It wasn't in any way malicious or mean-spirited, quite the contrary, it was often played as comedic (until the end of episode 10 when it was anything but) - Ed was always meant to be a sympathetic character, he's a protagonist after all, and the show's portrayal of him is very compassionate. It merely refused to sugarcoat or shy away from his darker side. He's literally history's most famous pirate, you don't become one by being nice and treating everyone gently. He ambushed and strangled his own father to death when he was like 9 years old (100% deserved and justifiable ofc, but it still bears saying it out loud like this just to comprehend how unhinged this actually was). He loves torturing and maiming people for fun, and sometimes even animals (that scene with forcing a turtle to fight a crab). He didn't give a fuck about his crew members dying to satisfy his whim to meet Stede. He entirely failed in his role as a captain in ep 4. He effectively played a double agent with Izzy and Stede for a while before changing his mind. He attempted to murder Lucius. And while you could try to argue his punishment of Izzy was at least to some degree deserved, not only cutting Izzy's toe off but forcing him to eat went beyond punishment, it was sadistic torture.

So, yeah, please just read all that and take it in. And then remember once again that Ed is also a traumatised, lonely, depressed, sensitive, creative, curious, deeply passionate person yearning for true love and for something different in life... just like Stede. He loves music and can play the piano. He wrote a very vulnerable song and sand his heart out. He likes his tea with seven sugars. He enjoys fashion and dressing up. He has such a limitless sense of wonder for the world. He went on a trek with Stede just to make him happy, even though he hated nature and was in a shit mood that day. He wants to host a talent show. He wants to become free. He's clever and funny and fascinating. I love Ed.

Yes, it's possible to reconcile those two sides of him and accept both sides as the "real" Ed. You have to reconcile the two sides if you want to enjoy him as a character, because if you don't, you're going to either detest him to the core (which would make enjoying the show practically impossible since he's sort of a main character...), or you'll only be able to enjoy a diminished, crippled, cardboard cutout version of his character, which would be such a pity and a massive disservice to the creators of this show who worked hard to create interesting, multidimensional characters.

Not to mention you'd be missing one of the core messages of the show - the idea that people still deserve love and can be loved even if they're imperfect, or not necessarily good people. Because love is a human condition. It's not a sole dominion of "good" people. "Bad" people can fall in love too - even if, just like them, that love isn't exactly "nice" or "pure", and neither are the relationships that stem from it. They can be messy and exasperating. But "bad" people can also grow and change because of it. That's what OFMD is ultimately about - growth and change, learning to accept yourself but also become better. That can't happen if the character is already 100% perfect the way they are.Ed is far from that. So is Izzy. They can both become better, and they both still deserve compassion and understanding, because that's the environment people need to become better.

So, if you're mad that at the start of S2 the crew are sympathetic to Izzy's suffering and want to help him instead of kicking him when he's down, and what Ed did to him is being acknowledged as cruel and wrong... congratulations, you have completely missed what OFMD is all about.

#normally I hate fandom drama and hate getting involved but I've seen too many of those posts #so unfortunately it needs saying #and tbh there seem to be a few Izzy fans out there who are unreasonably hateful and unsympathetic towards Ed too #so they need to hear this as well #izzy hands #blackbeard #ofmd ed teach #ofmd #our flag means death #our flag means death s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers

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cycat4077 · 9 months

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Gator's room: foreshadowing & clues

I went back to take a look at the scene of Gator in his room. While the "flag", girly posters, blaring heavy metal and handcuffs were an immediate stand out to all of us, I wanted to have a look to see if there were any other clues to who Gator is.

First up, here's his room:

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT FOR EPISODES 1-8

Let's look a little closer at the obvious foreshadowing.

Based on the previews and the Instagram post from the makeup artist (along with the subtle nods to Oedipus), it appears Ole Munch is going to torture Gator. We see him holding a knife to his eyes, and in the original trailer, Gator is bloody and blindfolded while being led by a noose.

Gator's own posters, decor, and drawings seem to depict this fate.

#1 The poster immediately behind his shoulder depicts a man with no eyes - potentially gouged out.

#2 The drawing below it has the eyes blocked out in colours that suggest necrotic (dead) tissue.

#3 The animal skull on his wall obviously has no eyes.

The Oedipus parallel and removal of his peepers were foreshadowed right in Gator's room from episode 3.

Linda's fate (mommy issues)

We learned in the last episode that Linda is dead. Roy tells Dot that he can burry Dot right next to Linda. When Dot confronts Gator and tries to win him over via his mother, Gator gets visibly emotional and shaken. We see hope and heartache run through him simultaneously. I think Gator knows instinctively that his mother is dead, but some small part of him hopes she is still out there.

I also think Gator's drawings depict his mother.

#1 This drawing not only depicts a person with eyes blacked out, but the drawing is clearly of a woman - possibly a corpse. She has breasts and long hair but is drawn in purples, reds, and blues; colours that represent bruises, blood, and dying flesh.

#2 The other drawing with missing eyes is also of a woman. This drawing once again has long hair, but she is smiling.

Perhaps Gator accidentally saw his mother's dead body. He has a drawing that represents a scary corpse (reality) and one that represents an almost comical one. Maybe the smile is how he tries to remember Linda - dead but somehow still smiling for him.

Other little things

#1 Robbed of childhood innocence. Gator's room is filled with "tough boy" items: swimsuit model photos, car photos, alcohol, heavy metal posters, etc. But he also has children's toy cars. The hot rod photos are in direct contrast to the toy cars on his shelf. The boy trapped inside the man. A boy robbed of his childhood by abuse and traumatic events.

#2 Jack Skellington. I'm probably one of the only people on the planet who have not yet watched The Nightmare Before Christmas, but the Jack Skellington parallels go beyond just the mask Gator wore. To me, it looks like he also drew Jack - and yet another reference to death. The skull's mouth is sewn shut too, just like Gator is sworn to obey his father and not speak the truths about what Roy has done.

#3 Red or Blue Pill? Again, I have failed to watch yet another classic film: the Matrix. But this poster seems to be a clear reference to it, I think.

According to Google, "The red pill and blue pill represent a choice between the willingness to learn a potentially unsettling or life-changing truth by taking the red pill or remaining in the contented experience of ordinary reality with the blue pill."

And if there's anyone with the last name of Tillman who will be forced to see reality (and potentially change), it is Gator. Gator will likely be forced this "red pill" by Ole Munch, either finally seeing the reality of his father's ways, or by becoming the next sin eater.

Whatever the outcome, the poster must have some sort of meaning!

That's all for now 😊 But I really love all the subtleties in this show! It's fantastically written and acted, and Joe is doing such an exceptional job playing this mutli-layered and morally ambiguous character of Gator!

***EDIT***

A post by @familyfriendlyhoho got me thinking about the drawing on Gator's wall. I was thinking that his drawings represent his dead mother, Linda and that he may have accidentally seen her corpse. The post theorizes that:

"I feel like Gator knew Linda was dead. but worst, I feel like Roy showed it to him."

And I think that this is the most-likely scenario. Roy is sinister enough to do something like that to his own son. I can imaging Roy telling Gator to stop being a loser and become a winner and, to drive the point home, he could have led Gator to Linda's corpse warning "this is what happens to losers".

If so, Gator's drawings would depict the corpse he witnessed. Even here, before Gator gives himself the "I'm a winner" pep talk, we see him glance towards the drawing - a reminder of what happens to losers. He then feels the need to convince himself that he is not one, despite what his father says.

#fargo season 5 #fargo fx #fargo s5 #fargo spoilers #fargo #gator tillman #joe keery

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wilddflwer · 3 months

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Two-Way Mirror

Song by Loathe

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ reader x j. slaughter ˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

ps, just wanted to write something short, not the best but I needed to get rid of my writers block sooo bad.

Summary: reader manages to get away from the man who held her captive, blindfolded, and abused for days. thinking she finally escaped hell, she comes to realize she wasn’t even close.

Contains: dark themes, kidnapping, abuse, gore, Johnnys an asshole

𓉸ྀི 𓉸ྀི 𓉸ྀི

Your jaw ached at how tightly the gag was tied, forcing your mouth to stay open, no doubt leaving a deep red marking on the sides of your face. You move your tied down wrists and ankles uncomfortably, only being able to shift them just by an inch. Your whole body ached, from the abuse, from the consistent sitting position in the chair you were bound to, from the hopelessness inside, from the lack of strength. You hung your head lowered in defeat as you stayed wondering how long you’ve been here. You haven’t been able to see anything but pure darkness for what felt like months. He never takes the blindfold off.

It wasn’t unusual for your capture to leave you alone for more than two days, starved and beaten. It was something you prefer actually, beats having to deal with his sadistic nature. It almost became some sort of routine for you. Every two to four days he would be gone, then he’d show up again, almost excited to see you. Despite not have ever looking at his face, you felt you already knew him whole. You grew to recognize his foot steps, they were heavy and paced lightly. That’s when you knew he was back, when your found peace was about to end. You recognized his touch, always gloved, never skin, leaving continuous bruises and wounds on your body. Most importantly, you recognized his voice. You’ll never forget his voice, his laugh, his mockery, his twisted praising, his mean degrading, his breathing pattern. Hell, even his scent you grew familiar with, cigarettes and death. No, you’ll never forget it. His voice and laughter echo in the your mind constantly, it bounces off the walls and follows you to your restless dreams. Aside from learning his cruel ways, the only other thing you knew of him was his name; Johnny.

It was day three of Johnnys absence. Day three of another torture of silence, aside from your own breathing and on and off cries. Your stomach rumbled in hunger as you shifted your weight uncomfortably, wishing you never went on your stupid trip. That last minute trip driven by anger and spite towards your father, who you had a pretty bad argument with just before you left. That was another thing that weighed down on you, regret. You said such awful things to him, and those were the last words your father would ever hear from you. It hurt, it really hurt. If you could, you’d apologize over and over until you couldn’t speak anymore. You figured you had until tomorrow to have time to yourself to rest and attempt to gather your thoughts. Although, he was unpredictable, so you didn’t rely too much on your own guessing games. You just preyed he’d never come back. You’d rather die at this point, your sane mind was reaching its breaking point. You were slowly losing your fighting spirt.

“I wanna go home” you whimpered to the empty room, the last little hope in you wishing someone would hear your words. Of course, there was never a response. You fell silent once more. You’ve already tried again and again to escape, thrashing around in your restraints hoping they’d get loose. They never did. You were growing tired of the mind games he’d play with you, the abuse, the inhumanity of it all. Even the small things such as feeding you. You’d feel his eyes on you as you eat what you assumed was some sort of meat. His small chuckles made you second guess yourself, forcing the food down. You didn’t want to think it was anything else besides some sort of animal.

You don’t know how much more you could endure. So, there you are once again, attempting to get out. The thought of seeing your father again and taste of freedom is enough to bring back lost determination. You thrash your wrists and ankles wildly against the rope that burns into your tender skin. You twist and pull, flexing them in different directions in hope it’ll loosen just a little. You whimper and hiss through the pain, the rope burn only seemed to get worse on your broken skin. You didn’t stop. You keep twisting, pulling, thrashing, anything you could take off to get free.

Your struggling suddenly becomes worth it as you manage to tug your left hand free, slipping and tugging it through the rope. It was a tight squeeze out, tight enough to force your hand purple for a small amount of time. That didn’t matter though, you could finally get out. Maybe he tied the rope lazily, thinking it was enough to keep you strapped down. After all, you had been trapped here for almost a month now. Either way, your escape would be a slip up on Johnnys end.

You quickly loosened the rope on your other hand, tugging your joint free from its own prison. Then finally, you take off your blindfold for the first time since you’ve been here. Your eyes adjusted quickly to the ominous, dark room you were in. The only light source was a couple lanterns that were draped on the ceiling and the little sunlight that shined down from a hole in the ceiling. It was just enough to make out the horrors of the cold room you were in. The ceiling was littered with various human body parts, from hands to feet. There were at least four corpses strung up, rotting to the bone. You hadn’t realized it until now you had become nose blind to that god awful smell of rotting. You swallowed down the vomit that crept up your throat. Then there was the ladder that led up to who knows where. You quickly started undoing the ropes around your ankles, your last step to finally find your way out of this hellhole. You massage your aching wrists and ankle before thinking about your next step.

Your legs shake as you stand, causing you to hold onto the arm of the chair for support. You keep your eyes to the floor, avoiding looking at any gruesome scene. You force yourself to stand straight as you make your way, or rather stumble, towards the door that leads out. You tug at the sliding door, attempting to use all your strength to open it. It doesn’t budge at all.

“It’s locked?” you whisper to yourself, half distraught and half confused. Why would he lock the door if you were already tied down? Either way, it’s just another obstacle for your freedom. You take a deep breath before doing a quick scan of the room. Doing your best to ignore the bodies, your eyes fall on a toolbox set on a counter. You push off the door and towards the tool box. You quietly rummage through it, finding something that could fit as a lock pick. Pulling out a skinny tool, you grip it tightly and go back towards the door. You’ve never had to lock pick something, but now wasn’t the time to just give up. You slide the tool through the keyhole and give it your best. You use the tool to apply pressure on the part that’ll unlock the door for you. It takes you a minute but you manage to unlock it. You drop the now bent up tool on the ground and slide open the door. You cringe at the loudness, hoping he wasn’t anywhere near by.

There was no mistaking it, you were in a basement. It was more of a maze if anything. You didn’t know where to go or where to start. You hold yourself for some sort of comfort as you begin to explore. Again, you avoid looking at the various dead bodies you come across. You can’t help but wonder if that’s going to end up being you. Just another lifeless corpse rotting down here. Then you wonder if Johnny did all this by himself. Surely not? This whole place was one big grave. The further you walk, the more your anxiety rises. Everything was unfamiliar and eerie. You think back to the ladder in the cold room. It seemed too easy for an escape, but you weren’t exactly getting anywhere right now. You circle back to the room that was your prison. Each step getting quicker as you approach the ladder. You wince lightly with every move as you climb up, your eyes squinting as you are met with sunlight for the first time in awhile. You could almost cry feeling the fresh breeze and the warmth of the sun blanketing your cold and bruised skin. To you, it felt like an angels kiss.

Once you’re back on your feet above ground, you find yourself in the back of somebody’s yard. It was a big property, so many areas to hide if needed. You timidly begin to move to the front of the house where you know there has to be a road. You squeeze through a small gap as a short cut to reach the side ramp that you can see from where you are. Afraid Johnny might be inside the house, you are careful not to be too obvious as you make your way up the dirt road and over the cattle grates. Paranoid, you keep glancing around for anybody that may harm you. You weren’t sure how many people lived here, but you figured they must know of Johnnys crimes. How could they not? The basement was littered with evidence.

You tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear as you admire the various sunflowers in the front yard. The front of the house was welcoming and beautiful, almost like there wasn’t any horrors behind its walls or under it. You crept closer towards the front gate that led to freedom, and to your luck it was open. You pushed the gate open and left the property without looking back once.

You were free.

A sense of relief washed over you as you began to walk faster. Part of you wanted to run, but your body wouldn’t allow it. Your legs felt too damaged to do anything other than walk. You sped walked down the road for what felt like miles, your feet sore. It had to be at least an hours now, the sun was setting and there was still not a vehicle or person in sight. You needed help badly. You needed to get to proper safety and call the police and your father.

You hugged yourself once again. The house you escaped from was long gone now, miles and miles behind you. At this point, you were in a zombie like state. You legs kept going but you felt like you weren’t really there. Your mind was else where. Maybe it was the trauma, or the self defence mechanism you gained over the month you were here, or maybe you were just tried. Either way, you weren’t keen on your surrounding enough. Not like there was anything around you for miles, you were alone and lost. Though, it was better than being tied down to that damned chair. You did your best to ignore the growing ache in your feet as you continued on. Your eyes stared at the ground in a daze. You shivered every now and then, and to think you’d be use to the cold by now.

Right now, all you could think about was your bed, your shower, your father’s embrace, the feeling of being home, your old life before your kidnapping. You squeezed your fingers tighter against your shoulders as you hazily looked forward at the gleaming light getting closer. You hadn’t realized it until now but there was a vehicle getting closer and closer from the distance just up ahead the road. It took a moment to sink in but there was indeed a vehicle approaching you, a truck is what you could make it out to be. Immediately you felt overwhelmed with emotions. There’s somebody that will help you. You could almost cry at the thought of finally getting far away from this place.

As the truck got closer, you stepped in the middle of the road so it couldn’t get around you. You waved your tired arm to signal the driver to stop. Your body shakes with anticipation as the pickup truck comes to a halt just a few feet in front of you. You can’t see the driver from where you stand, but they sure as hell could see you. The way the sun is angled is blinding your view of him, but you could vaguely make out a man’s silhouette. Without thinking, you jog up to the passenger side door and open it. You take your spot and slam the door shut. Home was so close now.

“Thank you, thank you” you repeat a couple times as you turn to your saviour, “I need to get to the police station as soon as possible. I don’t know where I am, I was taken and- and”

Your words were scrambled and fast as you tried to explain your situation without scaring the stranger off too much. At this moment you’re able to take in his appearance. The man’s got slicked back dark hair, dark eyes and a nasty scar that runs along his forehead to over his eye. Despite the scar, he was quite the looker. He’s got a cigarette loosely hanging from his lip as he studies you, nodding mindlessly to your rambling. A small smirk tugs at his lips as he begins driving the direction back to the house who had just escaped from.

“Wait…” puzzled, you shake your head desperately, “You’re going the wrong way. I can’t go back there”

It goes silent between the two of you for a minute. The bad feeling in the pit of your stomach returns as you feel the shift of speed of his driving. Then he spoke.

“You got pretty far, huh?” Johnny comments, his amusement growing as the look of horror and realization colours your face at the recognition of his voice. Your heartbeat quickens by the second as you feel your body freeze and tense. Your breathing seems to come to a stop as you can’t find the words or seem remember how to breathe. You felt your anxiety pouring over the edge as Johnny makes heavy eye contact with you. For the first time, you look straight into the dark eyes of evil and he stares into your fear struck stare. The sudden familiar smell of cigarettes and despair hit your nose, triggering your flight or flight. Everything suddenly came together. The gloves, the boots, his voice, his scent. It was him, it was Johnny.

“No…” you whimper, backing away until your back hits the door, “No…”

You reach for the handle and push the door open, falling out at a high speed. It hurt like hell, but you don’t take long to get back in your feet and run for the hills. Your body burns but you can’t go back. You can’t let him get you again. You take off the opposite direction of where he was taking you. Johnny stops the truck immediately, shifting gear and pressing his foot down on the gas, going backwards towards you just as fast. He rests his arm over the seat as he looks back to watch you run. It was pointless really, but it was both a surprise and rush to him that you still had the energy to try get away from him.

You can practically feel your heartbeat in your ears as you take off into the fields of tall grass. Johnny halts his truck, putting it in park and stepping out. He chuckles watching you make a run for it, attempting to hide from him.

“Aw…You leaving so soon?” Johnny tauntingly calls out to you, raising your anxiety. You can’t let him catch you. Surely you were dead this time. You keep pushing on until you realize you have no sense of direction, you’re completely lost.

“I’m gonna find you!” Johnnys voice calls out to you, he’s getting closer already, “I will! I promise!”

The sun was almost completely set now, leaving you without much light to see two steps in front of you. Your breathing was loud and heavy as you pushed grass out of your way. Johnnys taunting stopped and it was now eerily quiet, aside from your panicked breathes. You stopped moving and covered your mouth to avoid further detection. It seemed like time stopped completely. Johnny was being just as quiet as you. There was no way he could find you in this grass, and much less lack of light. Maybe he’d give up…you prayed he’d give up and just leave you alone.

“Hey there!” Johnnys sudden voice made you jump out of your skin. You screamed as you stumbled back, loosing your footing and landing straight on your ass. However, you moved quick, getting back in your feet and ready to take off. As much as Johnny loved the chase, the risk of another person driving by and you somehow escaping him was not something he wanted to deal with. He was quick to grab your arm and force you back to him.

“Oh, you ain’t gettin away! Im keeping you!”

“Don’t touch me! Get the fuck off of me!” You curse at him, hitting him with all the strength you have left. It must be the adrenaline, or maybe even the fear that gave you enough courage to fight back. You were so close to freedom, yet so far. Of course it had to be him driving down that road, of course you had to mindlessly get in his truck. This nightmare never seemed to end. You were desperate.

Johnny was quick to pull out his hunters knife, giving you two deep gashes as a warning. You screamed out in pain at the sudden fire stinging wounds. Johnny found an opening to sink the knife deep into you, yet he didn’t.

“Hurtin’ real bad, ain’t you sweetheart?” Johnny asks as he gets a firm hold on you, restraining you from hitting him any further. You cry, scream, anything to maybe get someone to hear you. Yet again, there’s nobody; just you and Johnny.

Johnny keeps you restrained against him until you’re done. Too tired to scream, too tired to cry, too tied to fight back. He could’ve shut you up, covered your mouth, but he thrived off it. Found your screams and cried music to his ears. He knew nobody could hear you, just as well you knew deep down inside. Any ounce of energy you had was gone. The past and present abuse on your body worn you out completely to the point where you finally slumped into his arms.

“There you go” Johnny hums, placing his knife back into his sheath, “You’ve had a long day, haven’t you, [name]?”

You didn’t reply, not that you refused to, but you couldn’t. You felt too defeated. Your only chance at escaping was gone. Instead you let your mind wander again as Johnny lifted you. You focused on the beauty of the tall grass you were in, on the fields among it. You focused on the cool night breeze and fresh air that you wouldn’t ever feel again. You focused on the arising moon way up in the sky and how pretty it looked. You wondered if your father was looking at it too.

“Damn…so close! Good try though” Johnny chuckled at your unresponsive state. He figured he broke your mind long ago, that you had no will to escape anymore and accepted the fact you were his now. Johnny knew better now, you were stronger than the others, he had more time with you. You were his favourite by far.

“Let’s go home”

#texas chainsaw game #johnny slaughter x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #johnny slaughter #tcm x reader #johnny sawyer

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devilfic · 1 year

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❝nocturnal animal❞

plot: okay, maybe the caped crusader is a vampire. and maybe you just want to know what it would feel like for him to sink his teeth into you. it's not weird. pairing: vampire!battinson!bruce wayne x detective!gn!reader. cw: vampires (duh), vampire-typical erotic descriptions of blood drinking, vampire hypnotism/compulsion, teasing martinez (lovingly). words: 2.6k.

a/n: I had a rough month last month and writer's block was the icing on the cake, but I picked up a vampire encyclopedia at the library and found out batman has been turned into a vampire... several times. more times than I thought, actually. this is what came of it. happy halloween month!!

"How does it feel?"

Gordon cuts his eyes to you for a moment, still thumbing through rows of manila folders. You sort of do the same just to appear a little less eager. "How does what feel?"

"The... well, you know." You awkwardly gesture to his wrist where the sleeve had fallen back a hair.

Your lieutenant flicks back his coat sleeve as if he were checking the time, but the watch face is laid flush against the inside of his wrist. He tugs at it. Frowns. Shrugs. "Feels like nothin'."

"Oh, do not bullshit me."

Gordon looks at you again. Then he glances around the storage room, quieter and emptier than every other room in the precinct right now. It's just the two of you here. You'd made sure of that before you decided to ask.

He props his arm on the box of cold cases and gives you a hard, judging stare. "I'm not describing what it feels like to have a grown man sucking..." He glances around again just to be sure no one had slipped in all of a sudden, "...if you wanna know, go ask him to bite you."

You... hadn't considered that. "He'd be okay with that?"

"I don't know, probably. It's not like he has a preference."

"I thought he didn't like Martinez."

"Well, you've seen Martinez. He eats like a high schooler."

You press your thumb into your own wrist, clenching and unclenching your fist until the veins show. You're possessed with a shiver as the draft from the vent above cools the skin. "So I... what? I just go up and ask?"

"Yeah, sure. Worst he can say is no."

"Detective."

About a third of your coffee goes flying, splattering milky brown onto concrete. You're lucky it had gone cold on your way up here or else it would've singed the skin off your ankles, but you're still not happy.

"Christ- get down from there. I'm not talking to you like that."

The Bat is perched comfortably above the doorway, looking down on you from above, but makes no move to get down. He keeps himself crouched, "Where's Lieutenant Gordon?"

“Night off with Barb. He’s been overworking lately, you know how he is. I told him I’d take care of you.” You stare up into the darkness and feel your heartbeat pick up a bit. You force yourself to still it, keep it tamped down under the years of poker face your career had honed for you. “I’m serious. Come down and talk to me or I’m making Martinez do this.”

You usually negotiated with people on the other side of a table, and none of them could ever hear your heart going ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump… so this was fairly new to you.

He drops down in front of you, cape fluttering gracefully. The first time you met him, Gordon had warned you to keep your cool. I mean, six foot something unknown, dressed in all black armor with innumerable resources and connections, endlessly prowling the night sky, whose intentions were murky and who was only on your side until he decided he wasn’t? Everyone thought Gordon was crazy. You were the first to give him a chance.

You noticed the little things. You rarely saw him during the day, never could get him to come out of the shadows when you did, always skulking about and never seeming to slow down. Weekdays, weekends, holidays. At one point, you’d wondered if he was even human. You’d wondered it out loud, in front of Gordon, expecting him to rip off the cowl to reveal a labyrinth of wires and then-

And then you’d realized you’d been paying an awful lot of attention to the Batman, and absolutely not enough to Jim Gordon.

He doesn’t sway or make faces like other people, doesn’t give away his thoughts like you’re used to. Instead, you’ve noticed very minute ticks: prolonged staring (even worse than his normal staring), not bothering to take a breath, the stillness of him and around him. The cityscape in the background might as well be a wide, empty plain when you’re standing next to him. Eventually, he lies, “Martinez is fine.”

"Worst he can say is no," your ass.

You try not to be offended by that. “You don’t like Martinez.” You sound pretty offended, against your best efforts.

“That’s not true.”

“I- you know what I meant. You said it yourself. Gordon told me.”

“It's fine."

You squint, “Am I not good enough for you?” A rare look of surprise flickers in his eyes. "You just said you’d prefer the guy whose blood you don’t even like.”

“I said he’s fine.” You hear a little edge to his voice that gives you pause. You’ve heard it before, coiling around the margins of his words. A tell-tale sign, Gordon had said, that you were trekking into dangerous territory.

You press your lips into a firm line but stand your ground, “I already made my choice. If you really want Martinez, say so. Clearly. Use your words and mean it.”

The Bat stares, unreadable.

You know how this goes with Gordon. It’s nothing intimate. The wrist most of the time, other times the neck when it’s closest. Or when Gordon’s busy on his computer. It’s always quick. You don’t even see Gordon flinch.

But with you? You don’t know how it’ll go with you. You don’t know where to start, only that you’d been thinking about it all day after you’d finally called Gordon and promised “I can take care of him.”

Batman takes your wrist, brings it to his nose, and flinches away. You panic at the thought that it might really be he prefers Martinez to you until he plucks the coffee out of your hand and sets it down on the ledge. His eyes follow yours as his mouth falls to the inner wrist and you feel wet, cool breath against it. It tingles all the way up to your ears. Those eyes flicker away a millisecond later, inspecting your arm in its entirety.

His leather-gloved thumb caressing your skin should make you something other than what you’re currently feeling, that’s for sure.

“Thank you,” Batman starts, sounding reluctant. His eyes quickly flicker to your throat and then away again, “Do you have a preference? Anywhere I should avoid?”

"Avoid?"

"Anywhere someone might look. A friend... or partner, perhaps."

Your lips part, sucking in a breath, “No, uh- no. No one like that. Wrist is fine. O-Or neck. Whichever is… easier.”

He doesn't say anything more. His lips curl up. Two pointed fangs reveal themselves behind the parting of his mouth, fangs that weren’t there before when he spoke. You ruminate on that, a reminder that the man under the mask could be anyone if he could hide so easily like that.

You watch—transfixed, barely registering the pain—when those fangs pierce skin. Blood beads where his teeth push in slow, and the icy sting you're expecting is no more than a needle prick at best. But the strangeness of a mouth pressed there, suckling at the wound as blood dribbled out of it… you stretch your fingers and stiffen. It was all you could do not to scare yourself and rip that hand back, tearing a vein in the process.

His tongue unmistakably presses to the flat of your inner wrist and before you can question it, he’s got his eyes on you. All of it goes quiet after that.

You no longer feel the sting, nor his lips pillowing around his teeth, nor the grip of his hands holding your wrist to his mouth. All you see is blue. Endless, reeling pools of blue. Not red like they were in the movies, or yellow, or black all over. Blue. Human blue. Wondrously beautiful blue. Had you ever liked blue eyes this much before? It felt like this was your first time truly seeing them. They were just so… radiant. And here he was, swathed in night, with pale skin peeking out like a waning crescent. Had you ever seen skin so pale? It felt like this was the first time truly seeing it. It was just so...

Your train of thought wanes. Sweeping over you is a dizzy spell so abrupt that you think you gasp. Or whimper.

Feeling returns to you as soon as he breaks your gaze. All at once, your skin is flush, your breathing concernedly slow, your knees weak. It’s so shocking that you buckle at the slightest gust of wind.

Just as quickly, the Bat clings to your wrist and pulls you flush to his chest, holding your bleeding arm in between the both of you while he holds you in a half-dip (like a pause in a waltz), suspended over you. Your eyes catch on the darkness staining his bottom lip where his fangs are still poking out, and you watch as a drop of blood gathers, swells, and falls… right onto your cheek. It’s still warm.

You feel a subconscious warning thrum through you. Perhaps it was because you were so close now, that the blue looked more hypnotic than radiant and his skin looked more undead than celestial. You understand in one sweeping, chilling second, what you’ve just let sink its teeth into you. “What the fuck was that?”

“You were starting to panic,” he explains, low, using no effort at all to hold you, “I calmed you down.”

“How? It’s like… it’s like you hypnotized me. Did you hypnotize me? Do you do that to Gordon?”

You don’t mean for it all to come out like an accusation, but the feeling had been akin to walking on a cloud, only to wake up the minute your foot falls through. In the time that you’d been lost in his eyes, waxing poetic about his otherworldliness, he could’ve… well, he could’ve… he could’ve done anything.

The feeling was untethered. Wild. Alien.

When he’s sure you won’t hurt yourself, the Bat lets your hand fall back to your side, straightens you up but never pulls away. Your eyes keep glancing between his and the points right above his brow, unsure that he wouldn’t draw you right back into that place if you looked directly at him again. “Gordon doesn’t panic.” He simply answers.

You go to defend yourself but you had felt it; the mounting pressure of it, the strange pain toggling on the instinct to get away, get away, get away. Your heartbeat was so slow when you came back to, like he'd damn near put a stop to it. “I panicked?”

The Bat doesn’t laugh at you, even when the answer is so obvious. “It's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's a common phobia.”

You're struck by his implication, “Are you seriously trying to say I’m scared of blood?”

“Maybe just your own.”

“I'm a detective. I see blood all the time. Maybe it's because you're a fucking vampire and my ooga booga brain is rightfully terrified.”

“You offered.”

Your ears burn, “As a favor to Gordon.”

“I can hear you lying.”

The sureness of his statement stops you quick. You feel yourself choke on nothing, sounding strangled as you respond, “Excuse me?”

“I could hear it,” your heartbeat thrums in your ears as the Bat continues to hold you, less waltz now and more hostage situation, “I heard it when you lied just now. I heard it earlier, on your way here. And I heard Gordon on the phone… not with Barbara.” He's blocking the wind sweeping over the ledge, making your flush feel hotter than before. “I don't prefer Martinez to you, but I know why you offered.”

You swallow, exposed. He'd make a damn good detective. "And?"

Your offended wrist is seized once more, and he studies the small holes there, as well as the teeny-tiny drops of blood still lightly flowing from the wound. It looks like it'll stop soon.

Achingly slow, Batman brings it to his mouth and licks away the last of you.

You have no choice but to watch, of sound mind and body, because he refuses to look you in the eye. You're forced to see him in his entirety. Forced to keep down that mounting pressure. A test, to see if you're just a little bit better than Martinez.

You steady your breathing and stare, trying to make this unnatural thing feel natural. Trying to not like it so much.

When he peels away, your skin is clean, and you can tell your blood is beginning to coagulate. "If you come back to me, I won't stop you. But if we're going to do this, I'd prefer somewhere with less concrete. In case you faint."

Your eyes narrow in on the slight pursing of his lips. Almost as if he were trying not to laugh. "I'm not scared of blood." You can’t tell if it’s because he’s so good at his poker face or if he really just doesn’t want to tease you further, but something about the clearness in his expression convinces you to speak up for yourself, “It’s probably because I missed dinner. That's all."

For one single moment, his face shifts. Then it smooths out again. You watch him climb onto the ledge, next to your long-forgotten excuse of a coffee, and turn back to you, "Will you be alright?"

You want to be annoyed about it, you really do, but the concern in his voice is true. As a compromise, you take a seat on the ledge, "Well, if you see the signal in the sky tonight, just assume I ate shit going downstairs."

As one final surprise, he smiles at you. Then he's disappearing into the darkness below.

You can hear Gordon in your head as you slip a bag of chips out of Martinez' upper drawer. After the vending machine had eaten six of your dollars, you'd given up just short of kicking a hole in the glass. You didn't want to think about what kind of hell Chief Bock would put you through for that one.

After the Bat left, you'd stumbled your way down several flights of stairs with the hopes of ending your shift only a little past midnight. There were still cops around, most unusually idle for a night in Gotham, and you supposed they had Batman to thank for that. Not that they ever would.

The very thought of him flashes images of his tongue on your skin, lapping at your blood, and you immediately force yourself to think of anything else. That was going to be a long-lasting memory.

If you were lucky, you at least wouldn't see him until tomorrow night, and that might give you time to get some sense into you. And food, too. The chips in your hand are no Michelin star dinner, but they'd hold you over until you made it home.

Just as you turn the corner to your office, you notice that something isn't quite how you left it. The door, for starters, is cracked where it was once closed.

You take a beat, then two. You listen for movement in your office, careful not to cast a shadow under the door and give yourself away, but hear nothing.

You push the door open in a rush, staring into the dimly lit room searching for the barrel of a gun staring back at you. Or, considerably worse, a person.

Instead, on your desk where it definitely wasn't before, is a bag of something that smells suspiciously like good food. You approach cautiously. Sure enough, you recognize it from Gordon's favorite lunch spot... your go-to, as only Gordon would know it.

A note is stuck to the side of the bag, a message written in neat curves and lines. The penmanship of a steady hand, not at all like your lieutenant's fast-moving scrawl. You read the note and feel a phantom sting where your wrist is patched up in band-aids.

Thanks for dinner.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes @angxlictexrs @moonlightreader649 @geekyfer @thescarletfang @navs-bhat @yehet-moi-ohorat @bluestuesday

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne fluff #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman scenarios #batman fic #batman fluff #the batman #battinson x reader #battinson #dc #mjwrites

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wewerebornsextuplets · 4 months

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idk how but you draw in the Oso-san style so good i need to know your secret please

HAHA thank you very much!! im glad you think so :D unfortunately im not very good at explaining how i work, but ill try my best to show what i mean!!

once again this is long as hell. you know the drill at this point

to be honest, half the battle i fight with drawing in the osmt style is just. Looking at it. the ososan art style actually fluctuates pretty wildly depending on what you're looking for, whether that be the mobile games (for instance, tabimatsu and hesowars look nothing alike in terms of style despite both being the same source material), official art and merch, or even the seasons of the show itself!

using ichi as my example here since i draw him the most, but its pretty easy to play spot the difference with the varying styles. even within a specific season you can do this across episodes, especially with season 1!

when i draw, i tend to be a bit sacrilege and use references across different media; usually ill use the show [especially season 2, if only because its a bit more "uniform"] as reference for the actual features and colors/poses/etc, but i like to use hesowars to reference proportions, since they seem to be most consistent there.

SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO NOTE: theres a WEALTH of fanartists that have styles that are INCREDIBLY similar to the show, so be careful to check your sources! these artists deserve credit for their hard work, which they often don't get since their work is reposted under the guise of being official art.

once you've pinned down the exact style you'd like to emulate, and the character you're looking to draw, its really just a matter of finding references, which is pretty easy! you can scrub through different episodes for good angles/shots, or if you're going for one of the game styles the AU wiki has most of the games catalogued to my knowledge. if you're looking to draw an oc, use characters you think they would look similar to in the show. if you really wanna waste your time, though, you can always scrub through crowd scenes in the show to see if any background characters might look like what you're going for; the season 3 episode Mt. Takao comes to mind, there were a lot of cute mob characters there.

using keiko as my example here, you can see that i pulled her features from multiple different characters to get her to look right in the style. with ocs, its important to reference a number of different characters, since the likelihood of a background character being a 1:1 for your little guy is unfortunately pretty low. there WILL, however, be a lot of characters that look KIND of like them. the key is to figure out what parts go where!

to this point, most prominent ososan women have very similar stock anime girl faces with very minor differences, so if youre looking to make a cute girl oc, most of the womens' faces can be used somewhat interchangeably. if you want your cute girl oc to have a more unique face, though, the movie gave us some women with more unique faces in the form of the NEETs' old classmates! theres also no harm in referencing male characters faces in this regard. #butchswag #kiruminikuya

BUT. going back to the assumption that you're drawing a canon character, today I'll be drawing oso for my example

when you're first getting a feel for the style, tracing some of your references can actually be a really great way to acclimate yourself to the characters proportions and features. think of like when you were a kid, and would trace over pictures of pokemon or cartoon characters so you could draw them better. its basically the same principle! this was especially helpful for me when it came to eyes; they vary the most wildly of any other trait that characters have in ososan, so going over the different shapes to get a feel for each of them was very important.

when you trace, though, I recommend doing so a bit more loosely, sort of like if you're doing a photo study for anatomy; block out the basic shapes and do small markers for different features (i.e small lines to denote where the eyes start and and, distance from nose to mouth, things like that), and from there draw the rest on your own.

after long enough you'll get a feel for the basic placement of where everything should go! the eyes and nose are undoubtedly the hardest when it comes to the sextuplets, since they shift around a LOT between games/seasons/etc. so don't feel bad if you have a hard time with that, since there isnt really a "right" answer with how frequently it changes. i still fuck it up all the time myself!

as for some basic tips, heres some stuff i try to keep in mind when drawing them that just helps the finished product look a bit nicer!

when drawing the hair + fringe line, its important to swoop it downwards a little bit; the flat across look Can work, but if you're not careful you risk showing the tops of their eyes, which is um. ew! ick! nast!

when a matsu is facing forward, their hair will usually tend towards one direction to keep the silhouette. in most screenshots i saw, the bowl cut points left! that said, dont be afraid to point rightwards if its better for your specific drawing!

and lastly: USE THE LIQUIFY TOOL. LIBERALLY. i am not joking when i say this has saved my ass so many times, its hard to get the placement right on the facial features and even harder to get everything to LOOK good, so if its available to you i HIGHLY suggest just squishing everything around with a liquify tool until it looks right. you can always go back and correct the blurry lines. its really a life saver

BUT YEAH! i dont know if this was very helpful but i hope you're at least able to gain something from it :-))

#larry time #answers

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miss-menhera · 6 months

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FAIR WARNING: Oversharing thoughts about lusting over how Adam would taste like somehow turns into a ramble about how Angels ACTUALLY taste like. Messy brainless drabble.

(I am legimately mentally ill and an oversharer if you're squeamish I advise you not to interact with me cuz I always say weird shit, I am absolutely shameless and unconcerned by backlash and I associated borderline cannibalism with pure adoration so bear with me😭)

You know when someone is so cute, you go "you're so cute, I could eat you" yes? No? Either way I legimately could take a bite out of someone I adore. I know people get this urge with animals, so perhaps it's more normal than I think

So I was thinking about Adam's cock, and what his cum would be and what it would taste like,(I came heh to the conclusion it would probably be alot, so thick, hard to swallow and salty asf due to his diet) then if that couldn't get any worse I started thinking "What if I bit his 40 inch dick off the moment he starts boasting and saying demeaning stuff", AND then that somehow went into even more unhinged territory and turned into what if I bit and swallowed his dick too?

Then I came back to my senses and I was like wow, that would be kinda gross and cruel huh?

Then I also thought meh it's gonna grow back in like 3 seconds cuz he ain't human and he'd probably be all scared or incredibly mad, and I dont mind either of those options so it's a win-win no matter what, he could either fuck me with pure rage or scramble away leave me a edged mess.

Then I stopped thinking horny and my thoughts went to "AH I love him so much I could bite a piece of his arm off T- T" to "Hold on a second what do angels taste like.."

You know what guys? The cannibals were kinda based in Hazbin Hotel?

Like honestly I myself, kinda wanna know what Angel's wings taste like? I feel like they'd be like huge chicken wings, and also Angels bleed glowy GOLD? That can't taste like blood, what does that taste like? Their blood looks like shiny sweetsour sauce, what if fried angels taste like chicken tenders marinated in sweet n sour sauce. Adam is 11 feet tall and fat ast he'd be literally delicious and he could feed whole cannibal town for a week.

..I guess this means Adam isn't a dick, he's a cock heh.

No seriously what if I took a bite out of him? Then what? Who's gonna stop me? Salmonella? Nuh-huh. Is (fictional)cannibalism a love language? Can it be actively practiced? Should I take my pills? Should I stop thinking about eating men I like? What sin do these thoughts represent? Lust? Gluttony? Even if there's 0 malice in my words? Is this what they call girl thoughts? Should i stop? Should I go dry my hair? I think I should go dry my hair.

This will get me on some sort of blacklist and blocked by alot of people I think

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chaotic-iguana · 1 year

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Tease

Based on this ask here. Here’s my masterlist and ao3 link.

Summary: Reader teases Joel all day, seemingly getting away with it until a few days later when he decides to get his payback, with a little bit of angst and plot sprinkled in. based on above request. (no/pre-outbreak AU.)

Pairing: husband! joel x reader (no use of y/n)

Wordcount: 4k (yeah i know. i know)

Warnings: bondage, dacryphilia, edging/denial, overstim, mean daddy dom! joel basically just fixing your attitude, smut and fluff, a little angst but its ok he takes care of it, implied/referenced age gap, husband! joel, soft joel but also most importantly malewife! joel ofc. MDNI please

A/N: so i went way off the prompt here and fleshed this out into a whole fic (my longest one yet actually); i hope you dont mind. i did change some elements, but it is still a pre-outbreak fic with an established relationship, and joel does technically punish reader for the pool party. i sprinkled some (~2k words) plot in to sort of have the forgetting about it element yk? and also im just feral for husband joel so this was an extremely experimental fic. i really hope you like it!

——————————————————————————————————

So far, it had been a really good day. Your newly-moved-in next door neighbors invited you, Joel, and Sarah over (along with half the block) for their housewarming party. For the first two or so hours, you sat on a reclined chaise next to the pool, watching Sarah splash around with the kids down below while Joel sat next to the grill with the other men, drinking a beer and in a seemingly animated conversation with someone.

You wanted to laugh at the scene, witty comments about white men crowding to gossip about one of their three common interests - football, grilling or women - sitting just on the tip of your tongue while you chatted with Mia, your long-time neighbor and friend. Lying in the sun with a mimosa in hand, a book on one side of you and a companion on the other made something itch in your brain; a need to break the comfortable lethargy that had set in your bones.

You were just this close to melting into the lawn chair out of boredom - lifting your head to scan your surroundings for Joel again, squinting underneath a furrowed brow when you can’t seem to find him. He was just there. Huffing, you grabbed the overshirt you had on-his flannel, actually, and pulled it up over your head. Gesturing for Mia to pass over the sunscreen, you took some out in your hand before starting to rub it in circles all over your arms, chest, stomach and legs.

You were about to turn and try and get some on your back as well, when a man you don’t remember meeting before walked up to you and asked if he could “help you out”. You stuttered and told him it was alright, your husband would do it for you, swiveling your head to find him but gritting your teeth when once again, you couldn’t find Joel. Growing increasingly irritated, you turned to your friend, rolling your eyes at her teasing grin. “Where is he?” you mused, equal parts irritated with Joel for going MIA and with the creepy man you could see still hovering just a few steps away. “Why don’t you go find him? I’ll look after Sarah and yell for you if something happens,” she offers, smiling with a knowing glint in her eye.

He’d been busy with some big construction contract these past two weeks, and the one morning you thought he’d be able to spend with you was spent with him passed out on the couch; apparently Tommy had needed to be bailed out late the previous night and he’d slipped out while you were sleeping. You missed Joel. He should have been the one helping you with sunblock, not some random guy-John, you’d learned, from two streets down with a chihuahua and a dentistry clinic not too far-who also evidently lacked the ability to shut up, because now your head was swimming with useless things about him he’d offered up to catch your attention, obviously thinking your “husband” was an excuse to end the conversation.

So maybe you conveniently forgot to put the shirt back on and decided to find Joel in your skimpy swimsuit. Maybe you even batted your lashes at a few of the men gathered on the other side of the pool, and laughed a bit too sweetly and easily at their terrible jokes and obvious flirting. Just as you were about to ask if they’d seen where Joel went, the man himself materialized behind you. You felt a possessive hand grip your waist as he peered at the guys you were talking to with something in his gaze aggressive enough to suddenly make all the men stuttering, bumbling fools who were instantly unable to meet your eyes, sheepishly muttering excuses before turning back to each other. Suppressing a grin, you turned to him and brought a hand up to his cheek, peering up at him through your lashes. “So evasive, Mr. Miller. I was having such a hard time finding you, I had to settle for spending some time with other people, instead.” You watched his gaze get darker, hardening as he trailed it over your form. Got him.

“Let me introduce you to my new friend, John. He’s a dentist and he has the cutest dog,” you grip his wrist and tug him behind you before waving at John enthusiastically and walking up to him. John, you found, was also a complete idiot, because he choked on a greeting when he caught sight of your nipples through the swimsuit. Nevertheless, you persisted. “Meet my husband, Joel.” You point at John, explaining to Joel “Y’ know he’s also really kind? Offered to help me apply my sunblock without me asking. I was struggling with my back and chest, wasn’t I John?” you turn back to the man in question with another deceivingly charming smirk, watching him wither under Joel’s scowl and nod meekly; mumbling an apology and slinking towards the drinks.

Catching sight of Joel’s thunderous expression, you innocently raise a brow at him before stretching exaggeratedly, palming his bulge subtly as you move your hands over your head. “Sitting around in all this heat, think I need to cool off for a bit. See ya later” is all you offer to him, slipping into the adults’ side of the pool before he can retaliate, biting your lip in an effort not to snicker at the frustration teeming from him: clenched fists and tightened jaw, narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. He let out a long, shuddering breath before waving back to Sarah and stalking back to his friends.

Overall, the party was pretty boring. But holding Joel’s gaze every time you bent forward just a littlemore than necessary, giggled at someone’s musings more than was warranted, or bit your lip in that way you knew drove him crazy before turning away from him and back to whoever you were speaking to? Priceless. You’d be willing to pay to do it again.

His breaking point was when he saw you get out of the pool, water dripping from your hair and mascara smudged just enough to send images of you with his cock down your throat flashing in his mind - him slamming his beer bottle down before smiling tightly at his companions and thanking the hosts, grousing something about an early morning before his hand was around your wrist and Sarah bundled in his other arm - barely giving you any time for goodbyes as you were being dragged behind him in the direction of your home.

Laughing at his desperation, you cocked a questioning brow at him before feighning naïvety to the situation. “What’s wrong? I thought you were kept plenty busy at the party, no? Why’re we leaving so soon?” you questioned, capturing your bottom lip between your teeth as you frowned at him and searched his face. “Not early. Been five hours, sweetheart. ‘S a school night, remember?” was all he remarked to you before opening the door and carrying Sarah up to bed.

You honest-to-God waited for him in bed, but the fatigue from such a thrilling evening caught up quickly after the adrenaline faded. Before you knew it, you’d fallen asleep in your new set of lingerie, blinking awake when your alarm went off at 5 am the next morning. Blearily pulling yourself out of bed, you groaned in frustration at the fact that you still hadn't gotten time with Joel and it was Monday again. Which inevitably meant he'd be caught up in his important contract this week too; coming home late, leaving early, the whole spiel.

The week passed by in a monotonous blur, and you got increasingly snappier with Joel in the short minutes that you did see him, frustrated with the distance that had developed between you two. On top of everything at home, work had gotten more stressful lately as sales didn’t meet the quotas and your boss decided to take it out on all of you. Normally, it wouldn’t have bothered you; he was a dick to you most of the time, but you couldn’t even rant about it to your favorite person because you barely saw him. You needed Joel - not just on top of you - holding you, talking to you, comforting you as before.

Friday rolled around, and turned out to be extremely shitty while it was at it. Your alarm didn’t go off, thanks to which you reached work thirty minutes later than usual after dropping Sarah off. Some intern had fucked up paperwork, and the fallout was promptly handed to you with a jeering tone and sharp glare as if it was somehow your fault. You’d forgotten lunch at home, so you had to spend the day on stale coffee and somehow bitter biscuits, and when you reached Sarah’s school to pick her up as usual they told you Joel had done it already. Feeling tears of frustration build up in your eyes, you dialed his number while climbing back into your car. Was it so difficult to communicate simple things like ‘I’ll pick her up today’? A text or quick call would have worked; saved you the trip and your boss’s biting remarks about your “priorities” while you walked out of the office to get to Sarah’s school in time.

When he didn’t pick up, you drove straight home. Fuck going back to work. You needed your bed. And Joel, but he clearly was too busy to so much as pick up a fucking phone. Wiping your eyes, you slammed the car door shut and started trudging to your bedroom, too overwhelmed to notice that the door had been unlocked. Jumping, you gasped in surprise when you walked it and saw Joel sitting on the bed, holding two wine glasses and looking up at you. “What the fuck, Joel? What are you doing here?” you bit out at him. He blinked up at you, frowning at your anger and the tear-stains on your cheek while you glared at him with eyes red from crying.

“Told the boys to handle it today, thought you looked a bit rough lately, wanted to spent the evening together. Dropped Sarah off at her friend’s house an’ was just about to call you to take the day off. You okay?” his tone was so gentle, concern evident in his voice as he reached a hand out towards you.

“Call me? Oh, so suddenly you’re capable of using a phone?” you bat his hand away and continue “And I’ve been looking rough?” your laugh is bitter, but your anger morphs into something sharper. “Maybe I’d look less rough if I saw my husband more often or if he could just pick up the damn phone and text me when he’s picking our daughter up so I don’t get into deeper shit with my stupid fucking boss!” You��re yelling by the end of it, but you can’t stop the words tumbling out now. “And I’ve missed you so much, tried so hard on Sunday, but you just didn’t come to bed. This week has been absolute dogshit-fucking interns messed everything up and somehow it’s on me-and you’ve been so distant,so I’m so sorry for looking rough, Joel.” Your tears return with a vengeance, and you turn away from him as you feel them spill over your lashline, pressing your hands into your eyes as your shoulders shake.

And suddenly he’s in front of you, solid and warm and there again, crowding you into his arms and holding you tight against him. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been here, and it’s been tearing me apart too. Missed you every damn day, shoulda seen how I’ve been at the site all week. Been snapping at everyone left and right. And I’m sorry I didn’t pick up - my phone was chargin’ an’ Sarah was telling me a story the whole way there so I didn’t see you’d called till just now.” His hand cradles your head under his chin as the other strokes your back, and he’s so gentle you want to cry harder.

You stay there for a while until you feel calmer, pulling back to look up at him. His eyes are wide, swimming with worry as he wipes your cheeks with his thumb. You sniff, bringing a hand up to swipe your nose, and grimace apologetically at the wet patch of snot, tears and makeup on his chest. At the quizzical way he raises a brow, you clarify, with a grin: “I’ve completely ruined your shirt.”

“Could think of better ways to ruin shirts, baby. An’ don’t think your effort on Sunday went unnoticed either. Was so damn ready to rip that lacy set off ya, but some idiot kid told Sarah a ghost story an’ I had to check under the bed n’ in the closet every two minutes till she fell asleep. By the time I crawled into bed, you were asleep and looking so peaceful I didn’t wanna wake you. ‘M sorry, honey”. His thumb was rubbing circles on your cheek now as he looked down at you, regret written all over his face.

Softening, you reached up to press a kiss on the corner of his mouth. And another on the other side. And another, until you were just ghosting your mouth all over his face and jaw, giggling when his lips twitched into a smile. “There’s my girl” he whispered into the kisses, making you beam as your kisses got more feverish, more urgent. All the need from the past few weeks came rushing back, making you dizzy with desperation as you caught his bottom lip between your teeth and tugged, moaning softly at the hitch in his breath.

Suddenly, your wrists were caught by one of his hands and he was stepping back. “Then again, honey, found it really fuckin’ difficult not to notice you at that party when you were teasin’ me all evenin’. Did ya enjoy putting on a show for our neighbors, hm?” his thumb trailed your jaw, fingers curling under your chin as you nodded. “That’s not something good girls do, is it now?” And then he was ducking his head, sucking bruises into your neck and soothing them with his tongue. He chuckled at the whimper that escaped you, his hand coming down to swat your ass. “Answer me, sweet thing. Do good girls go around begging for attention when they know daddy’s gonna take care ‘f them?” the rasp of his voice cut through the haze building in your head as you gasped when he nibbled your ear.

“N-no daddy. Plea-please take care of me,” you whined, trying to pull your hands from his unrelenting grasp as you felt him swat your ass again. He just gripped them harder, nipping at your neck before he pulled away completely, chuckling at your alarmed whimper.

“Relax, sweetheart. Course ‘m gonna take care of you. But I gotta punish you, too, remember? Didn’t think I forgot John and his adorable dog so quick, did ya?” His smirk became animalistic as he nudged you to the bed, pawing at your clothes to guide you to take them off.

“Wouldn’t know how it works at your age, old man. Thought your memory mighta started to go by now,” you coo up at him, eager to see him undone. His answering snarl prompted your smirk to widen before he looked down at you with a tight set to his jaw.

“Got such a mouth on you, babygirl. ‘S okay, I’ll take care ‘f it,” was all the warning you got before his hands were everywhere, groping and grabbing at you while his mouth resumed its assault on your neck. His bites got harsher, making you yelp, and he grinned against your skin before lapping at the near-broken skin before trailing his lips downwards.

He pinched your nipples harshly, rolling them between his thumb and forefingers before ducking down to catch one between his teeth and tug cruelly, making you release high-pitched moans as your back arched into him. Switching sides, he starts flicking the other one and smoothing over it when you whimper before trailing hot open-mouthed kisses into your sternum and moving down your body to settle with his head between your legs. Turning to the side, he started nipping the inside of your thighs; rolling the flesh between his teeth and sucking at it till they were matted blue and purple. Leaning back to admire his handiwork, he brought his mouth down to press kisses just above your mound, moving back to your thighs before you huffed and bucked your hips. His eyes glinting dangerously, he smiled up at you before tilting his head. “Need somethin’, baby?” his voice was laced with amusement as he drawled the question up at you, watching you buck under him.

At the stubborn shake of your head, he laughed before dragging a thumb down your folds, holding it up for you to see the slick coating it. "Y'sure, pretty?" you could hear the cockiness creeping into his voice and it just made you needier, whining down at him to do anything. His mouth ghosted over your clit, stubble scratching right there before he moved down to your thigh again, making you wind a hand into his hair and pull, albeit harshly. Tutting, he pushed up onto his elbows. "Wasn't very nice, now was that?” his lips quirked to the side at the sight of your frustration before you stuttered out a pathetic "t-touch me, please", at which he laughed again.

“Needy little thing. Let’s fix that attitude, hm?” and he pushed off entirely, stalking to the closet and pulling out a tie. Looming over you, he weaved the strip of fabric between your headboard and secured your wrists to it. “Too tight?” he checked, looking down at you to sense any discomfort. When you pulled experimentally to check and showed him it was alright, he went back to his earlier position. Blowing a breath over your cunt, he relished in your squirming before grazing your clit with his teeth and pressing down softly before lapping at it. Pressing kisses against you, he slid a finger inside you and began pumping it at an agonizingly slow pace. Feeling your orgasm approach embarassingly fast, you opened your mouth to warn him, but just as you began clenching against his finger, he pulled away to pull the hood of your clit back and blow on it again, making you keen.

Smiling, he inserted three fingers into you roughly before using his teeth on your clit again, your sensitivity making you mewl and rock your hips away, but his other hand attached itself to your hip to pin you to the mattress before his fingers began fucking into you in earnest. Pulsating in his mouth, you felt yourself about to clamp down again before he pulled out and away once more. Whining and kicking your legs out in aggravation, you frowned down at him and watched him smirk at your tantrum.

This time, he kept his head up to maintain eye contact with you while he ground his palm against your clit and squeezed three fingers into you again. Bringing you to the edge once more, he answered your devastated whimper at the denial by slapping your clit in rapid succession, each hit harder than the last and making your thighs twitch.

He continued for what felt like hours. The sun went down, and with it the lingering scraps of your pride and expectation to come. He edged you until you were a mumbling mess, babbling broken pleas down at him; till your clit was painfully red and swollen and your slick was running down your thighs. Tears were flowing down your face as you bucked your hips in search for his fingers, but his merciless chuckle taunted you again as you sobbed. “P-please, please, ple-please, gonna be g-good, please…” Your voice broke with every word you wailed, and he contemplated for a second before nodding and entering you in a single thrust.

You could feel the tip of his cock kissing your womb, overwhelming you to the point of pain. A wince marked your features, making him pause and strum your clit before starting to fuck into you at a brutal pace. You were yanking against your restraints now, eyes rolling back into your head every time he entered into you - hitting the spot that made your thighs begin to shake uncontrollably.

Your babbles were reduced to mono-syllabic moans, rendering you unable to warn him of the release you felt coiling in you. When you started clenching against him, he just doubled down the force of his thrusts and the movements against your clit, delighting in the way you twitched at the oversensitivity as he drew out your orgasm. “D-daddy, nnh-D-Da-Daddy” was all you could get out as the oversensitivity consumed you, making you go limp as his pace didn’t falter.

He gripped your chin and leaned forward to spit into your open mouth, eyeing the drool dribble down your chin as your jaw hung slack. “What is it pretty girl? Use your words.” Another thrust. You opened your mouth to answer him, to beg him to slow down, but all that came out was a pathetically shrill “ca-can’t” as he rolled his hips into yours halfway through your word, making you choke. “Eager enough to whore herself out in public, but when she gets what she needs she can’t? Too bad, pretty girl, you’re gonna get it now.” He stopped for a glorious second, reaching down to rest his forehead on yours before planting kisses on your face and forehead to give you a second to breathe. Glancing up at your straining wrists, he pulled at the knot of his tie to free them, then resumed his previous speed.

Raking your fingers down his back, your eyes fluttered shut at the continued drive of him impaling you on his cock, meeting his mouth in sloppy kisses as his fingers came down to flick over your clit again. “Again.” His command sent a jolt through you, pulling you taut as every cell in your body pushed itself to overdrive to obey and every sensation seemed to multiply tenfold. Joel was everywhere, consuming your entire being, and you felt your joints lock up as your hips arched off the bed before you were cumming devastatingly hard, soaking him with the force of your release. His fingers kept abusing your clit, your whole body jerking with the force of the hypersensitivity. He pressed in impossibly deeper, sobs hiccuping from you and weak hands pushing at his chest. He pressed into you languidly, in slow, deep strokes that left you ruined before gasping in your ear and cumming deep inside you.

Going limp on top of you, he pressed his face into your neck and lay on you as you both caught your breath - ruining the peaceful moment by looking up at you with a boyish grin and a twinkle in his eye, glancing down at your joined forms and snickering like a child finding much-coveted candy. At the furrow in your brow, he elaborated - “Who knew all it took was a little edgin’ to make you squirt, huh?” And judging by the tone of his voice, you knew it wouldn’t be long before he was going to test that theory. And he did - twenty minutes later. And again. Over and over, until your cunt was convulsing and throbbing with oversensitivity - only then did he pull away, gathering you in his arms and holding you to him before suggesting softly, “Sarah wanted to stay over for the rest of the weekend. Let’s pick her up on Sunday, and how about you and me take some time to ourselves, hm?” You nod into his chest, voice too hoarse to reply, and hum in contentment as he starts stroking your hair. You needed to act out more often.

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones @breakfastatjoels

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