#idk. throwing out ideas.

[starblaster]

i’m thinking of designing printable cards or slips that people can hand to their doctor(s) so that fellow psychiatric survivors and others with medically-associated trauma can advocate for themselves in clinical settings. would anyone be interested in these if i made them?

[elsecrytt]

curse technique concept:

your technique can make anyone fall in love with you. it's not permanent, but the emotions are extremely real, and powerful, wearing off over time unless refreshed.

the technique is activated by eye contact.

you've also taken a binding vow - you cannot activate your technique at will, it's always on. this makes your technique much stronger than it should be.

so you run around with a blindfold, much like gojo, just to prevent making random people fall in love with you.

it's not so bad, really!

growing up, your parents would wear eyepatches - with only one eye making contact, the technique was half as effective!

except... if the effectiveness of the technique increases proportionally with the number of eyes... well...

[lizardbrainlabs]

sketched out all the human partners!!!

[marragurl]

Saxaphone player Gallagher has not left my mind since the jazz night art dropped AND THEN Robin saying Halovian’s innately have good voices and Sunday used to hum lullabies to her as kids happened in the 2.2 special program, and I’m sure you guys can see where my unfortunate Galladay heart is going with this.

Whoever decided to make this art, I love you. I hope your pillow is cool every night, you’re never stuck in traffic, and your water is refreshing with every sip.

Also the art of Sunday with the White Gentlemen drink in the S.P.A.R.K.L.E jazz night event has also spiraled into me delusionally thinking that’s his go to drink. Which is hilarious since Robin has hinted before that he seems to have a massive sweet tooth in her letters.

(Sunday how do you even make holding a drink menacing, Sunday please get some therapy-)

So imagine this:

Pre 2.0 Galladay, where they’re both wary and suspicious of each other but didn’t do anything outright. Sunday slowly began to visit Gallagher’s bar whenever he had time to observe the Hound, initially on the down low just to get a sense of what he was working with and what to keep an eye on. He always gravitated to that one corner booth that every bar had with the most privacy, and just stalked there for a few hours before leaving. (Smol menacing birb in a tree vibes)

Gallagher obviously knew that Sunday was doing this (even though everyone else seemed to somehow completely miss him, Gallagher wouldn’t be surprised if Sunday was doing some weird Harmony mind tricks), and after the first few “stakeouts,” he bit the bullet and actually approached the table to engage with Sunday, on the off chance this was some weird “test of loyalty” by the Halovian to see if the Hound would swallow his pride to serve his so-called masters.

Nothing terrible happened, but he remained passive-aggressively polite when serving him, and Sunday remained passive-aggressively cool-headed in response. There was some snark of what dear “sweet-toothed” Sunday would want at a bar, and an icy reply of “aren’t you the master drink smith? Why don’t you show me those skills you boasted about?” which led to Gallagher being petty and giving Sunday the White Gentlemen drink, both for the story behind it being such a metaphor for Sunday, and because it was on the more bitter side of alcoholic drinks.

Sunday wasn’t too against the drink; it wasn’t something he would have ordered if it had been his choice, but it wasn’t a bad drink by any means. He couldn’t help but continue to drink it even after Gallagher left his little hidey booth to go back to the main bar, but he’d never stoop so low as to complement the Hound. Of course, he never ordered anything else from then on, only White Gentleman. In fact, over time it seemed to slowly get better, the flavors grew on him, and he couldn't help but look forward to it during difficult nights in the Dreamscape.

If Gallagher tried to needle him into a different drink, Sunday just bit back a “oh? Admitting defeat? I thought this was your best drink for me?” with a little smirk while Gallagher had to use every bit of self-control to not punch him in the face.

As time went on, the bar slowly became a place Sunday frequented to not quite relax, but to get away from the hustle and bustle of Penacony and his duties as one of its main faces. The stresses slowly started piling up, especially with the Charmony fast approaching in a few months and all that came with it.

Gallagher didn’t seem to loosen up regarding his attitude with Sunday, but he did get better at shoving down the visceral hatred he had for everything to do with The Family and Sunday as time went on. He didn’t get soft with Sunday per se, but he definitely kept an eye out for him, and definitely knew when to cut off his drinks on days where it seemed that Sunday wasn’t all that there for their usual veiled comments towards one another when he went to serve him his drink.

It started small, with Sunday staying later and later until sometimes he was the last one to leave the bar to return to reality. Gallagher wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, still wasn’t quite sure this wasn’t some weird long-term test Sunday was devising, especially since he still seemed to be the same ruthless Family member, the same Head of the Oak Family, when Gallagher was working as a Bloodhound outside the bar. For some reason though, within the enclosed space of this strange sanctuary, it was almost peaceful between the two.

One night, there was something wrong when Sunday entered the bar during Gallagher’s shift. He saw a bit of a crowd near the small stage that was within eyesight of his little hidey booth, it seemed some of the musicians of the live band were arguing? He watched as Gallagher came over, seemed to try to speak with the group before honing in on one of the musicians who had been making the most noise and seemed to be about to get physical with the rest. Sunday watched as Gallagher picked up the musician by the scruff of their suit with one hand and carried them towards the doors and lightly tossed them out.

(It was the first time Sunday had actually seen Gallagher perform anything resembling the actual duty of a Bloodhound. It only hit him that he’d only ever seen the other when giving reports, orders, or at the bar. Why was this so shocking to him, he’d seen the man’s arms before, hard not to with his slovenly dress and messy clothing style, as if he couldn’t bother to hide away his imperfections from the world, not like Sunday who refused to be seen by the world, to dare to show one thing off about himself despite his countless failings- he’s getting far too distracted by one meager showing of strength, focus Sunday)

There had always been a live music segment. Sunday was curious to see what would happen with the band missing a member, but was distracted by Gallagher placing his usual White Gentlemen in front of him before heading back to the musicians without a single word to him. Gallagher took a moment to speak with the rest of the band, who seemed to be coming out of their shock and took on worried looks. Sunday could only watch in muted shock as Gallagher went behind the bar and came back with a case, opening it to reveal a saxophone. He then went on stage with the rest of the group, positioned himself further to the side and in the back amongst the shadows within Sunday’s line of sight, and played with the band for the rest of the night.

Sunday couldn’t look away.

He was frozen as he watched Gallagher seamlessly transition from song to song, taking only small breaks to continue serving the other patrons before heading back in. Sunday only remembered about his own drink when his gloves began to get wet from the ice melting into condensation on his glass.

Something felt off within Sunday, and for the first time since Robin’s debut, he couldn't help humming to the music of the band, music that wasn’t of his own sister’s making. He couldn’t help but remember those little concerts the two would have, taking care of his little sister, his only world. He would do anything to keep the Harmony, to keep their family going. When was the last time they truly spent time together? Before he became the Head of the Oak Family? Before he couldn't recognize his own smile?

He was so lost in his thoughts, in memories he thought he buried, that he didn’t realize that it was once again closing time, and he was once again the last one left. He only snapped out of it when Gallagher came by to grab his empty glass, only quirking a questioning brow at him before heading back to the bar.

Gallagher had been keeping a quiet eye on the Halovian that night from the back of the band, in the shadows he felt the most comfort in when in the Dreamscape of Penacony. He had watched Sunday’s eyes glaze over, and the only reason he hadn’t felt offended by the seeming disinterest was the look in the other man’s eyes reminding him of his own when he looked in the mirror. The same look of shame, regret, loss, longing, of the wishes to regain everything he had lost. The same look he strove to hide under every bit of the facade he had crafted of this new self, but came back all too often with every reference of the Family found within his prison in the Dreamscape.

Maybe it was the shared nostalgia within his own heart, that little bit of his true self that he thought died when the Family tore out everything that made him who he was, that made him return behind the bar and begin making Sunday another White Gentlemen, giving Sunday a small nod to beckon him over. He wasn’t expecting anything from it, and he masked his own surprise when Sunday actually left his little shelter to come and take a seat in front of him at the bar. Even while out of it, Gallagher made note of the quiet confidence the other still carried himself. Nothing seemed wrong to anyone else looking at him, only for the lost look in his eyes.

The first time in the many months that they’ve been skirting around each other, and finally they seemed to be face to face.

It was quiet as Gallagher made Sunday his usual drink, a drink he had been slowly changing over the months to be sweeter and sweeter that Sunday never quite seemed to notice, or if he did, he never said anything, only seeming to savor it more each subsequent night. Maybe not even Gallagher noticed his own changes to the drink, subtle as they were.

It was quiet as Sunday took the finished drink, and it was quiet as his eyes slid over the bartop to see the saxophone case laying open with the instrument inside. It was quiet as Gallagher followed his eyes, as he came out from behind the bartop to take the saxophone out and take a seat in a chair only one seat down from Sunday’s. It was quiet as Gallagher began to play to his audience of one.

It was quiet as Sunday quietly hummed along.

It was quiet as they both knew that it would not last.

OK yea so this was all because I heard ‘La vie en rose’ at the end of the Jazz night event and went “Damn I wish that’s Gallagher playing on his Sax” and then we spiraled.

Uh. Idk what it is with me having a small ship moment which then spirals into a full blown writing session. My mind blanked out and as I came to I find out that I made a whole ass little one shot over here then completely forgot about it WHOOPS

So yea, hope my fellow Galladay enjoyers… enjoyed! I think I’ve slowly begun to crave… not domestic or fluff per se from these two, but after every AO3 fic being super dark between them (which I get! They are the toxic yaoi kings of Penacony as of writing this, no one is denying that!) I think I want to see them be explored in a more melancholic sense. Not quite the “forbidden” love angle, but in the “damn we kinda have some parallels, and maybe in another life we could have gotten along but there’s too much baggage and anger, both historically and currently to really even try anything”

I have this feeling this may not be the last time I write about these two… is Galladay going to be the ship that gets me to actually use my AO3 account?

[rodolfoparras]

Color Show

Spider Noir x Male reader

Synopsis: In which Noir wants to learn about colors and you’re more than happy to help

Content tags: 18+, MINORS DNI, Dom! Male reader, sub!noir, anal play, anal beads, size kink, pain kink (kind of?), edging, mirror sex

A/N: so basically I learned that noir isn’t capable of feeling pain and the thought of him having a pain kink along with a size kink made my head start spinning. As always excuse my mistakes and I hope you enjoy the read!

“How about this, if you get all the colors right I’ll let you cum?”

Your words echo in Noir’s head as he stares at his reflection in the mirror. He looks absolutely wrecked, down on all four, hair mussed, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace and cock hard and leaking as you circle his puckered hole with your newest toy.

You’ve been teasing him for a while, gotten him so worked up only to pull away every time he’d been seconds away from reaching his climax.

He had begged and pleaded, asked you to let him finish but you’d denied his request every time.

At some point though, you had made an offer and pulled something out of your closet. Desperate and in need he was ready to agree to whatever you had wanted of him, and that very thing happened to be-

“Alright doll, how about you tell me the color of the first one?” You say, voice sounding sickly sweet as nudge the lubed up bead against his puckered rim.

The sound of your voice brings his attention back to the present moment, gaze shifting from his own reflection onto the sphere reflected in the mirror.

It’s colorful and rather large in size and his dick twitches at the thought of having it inside.

“Noir,” you say sharply “answer the question, darling”

He takes a moment to think before he recognizes the color in front of him.

“Green, sir” he says and just as the words leave his lips you slowly push the bead inside of him.

“Hah- god!” he mewls out, brows pinched and mouth agape, as his hole accommodates to the stretch.

“Good job doll, doing so well” Noir hears you say, but he barely registers your words as he focuses on the intrusion inside his hole.

There’s no stinging feeling that comes with the stretch since he’s long lost the ability to feel pain but the way his muscle contours uncomfortably around the sphere sends delightful sparks of pleasure through his entire body.

“You good doll?” You ask once the first bead is completely inside of him and the second one is nudging at his rim.

By this point, the pleasurable sensation from the stretch had long subsided, leaving him feeling wet, almost cold and hole gaping for more, more, more and he makes his wishes known, words slurred and hips rocking into your touch. “Mm- Please- need - need more”

You just chuckle at his enthusiasm but don’t hesitate to move onto the next question.

“Alright, alright, doll how about you tell me the color of this one” you ask him, tone ever so calm and patient as you wait for him to answer.

The next bead was slightly larger than the three fingers that you had prepared him with, and much more duller in color than the one nestled inside of him.

Noir takes a moment to respond, mind still a bit distracted from the intrusion in his hole but he mulls over the answer as his gaze inspects the color.

“Purple sir” he whispers under a shaky breath and just as the words leave his lips, you slide the second bead into him,

“Oh - oh- oh yes” he cries out as the plastic tugs and taunts at his rim, hole once again stretching to accommodate to the size of the sphere. The pleasurable sensation from earlier returning once again as the bead drags along his walls and burrows inside of him.

“Right again, doll” you say, sounding pleased with him and he can’t help but let the words go straight to his head, Like the cat that got the cream, he thinks to himself as he catches your proud expression in the mirror.

Although he feels slightly more full with two beads inside of him, he can’t help but crave more more more and he once again makes his wishes known, needy noises escaping his parted mouth as he rocks into your touch.

“This one might be a bit harder, let’s see how well you’ll do” You say, referring to the third bead nudging at his rim. It’s larger than the previous two and sporting a rather bright hue.

He tries to remember where he’d seen the color before but quickly loses his train of thoughts when your free hand glides between his thighs, gently fondling his balls.“Please - ah- I cant!”

“I asked you something Noir and I expect a reply,” you say sharply as you tug at his balls in warning.

“Fuuuck!” Noir wails out as he clutches harder onto the mattress. The sudden tug at his most sensitive part sends pleasurable waves rippling through his body, almost derailing him completely from what he’s supposed to be doing but when you tug at them again he forces himself to regain his focus.

This color he’d seen many times before. Its the very same color that can be found on his lips, cheeks and his hard and weeping cock.

“That’s blue- no wait red” and just as he says that you slide the third bead into him, hearing the obscene squelching sound his hole makes as it takes the sphere.

“Nffh-please!” he squeaks out, head tipping back as his fingers dig further into the mattress. With three beads inside of him he finally feels the fullness he’d be craving. He’s now hyper aware of the hand you have on his lower back, the way his cock is hard and leaking between his thighs and the way the beads are stretching him almost in the same way your cock does. “please need to -ah need to-“ he says voice frantic as his mind starts to panic.

“Shhh it’s okay doll you can touch yourself” you say already knowing what he needs

“Thank you, sir” he says under a shaky breath, hand brushing over the fringe of curls and eager fingers wrapping around the base, before he slowly starts stroking himself .

“Feels- ah- feels so so good sir- oh god” he slurs out as he goes from languid strokes to harshly tugging at his cock.

You continue this little game of yours and at some point he loses counts of how many colors he’d recited. All he know is that the beads kept sliding and sliding and sliding inside of him until he was basically skewed onto the thing and was sure he could feel the beads all the way to his stomach. On top of that his cock is aching and leaking all over his fist as he keeps vigorously stroking it.

“What color is this?” Noir hears you say but at this point he’s barely registering your words as heat starts coiling in his groin.

“Noir” He hears you call out again as his vision starts to blur, pulse roaring in his ears, and the pleasurable sensations starts making its way through his entire body.

Through his hazy like state he hears your voice again, calm and collected, ever so patient as you clue him in on the answer to your question.

“Color of sunflowers?” He echos back in question, as his hazy mind scrambles for an answer. But all he can think about is how the room is turning into a blurry picture of shapes and blobs and how the blood roaring in his ears sounds very much like colors.

He knows the answer, has seen the color enough to know, can taste the word at the tip of his tongue but he can also taste the sweet, sweet, taste of his release and he loses focus easily.

His toes curl, fingers threating to rip at the sheets as he says the first color that comes to him “blue”

It takes him a second to register your words, too lost in pleasure to notice that he got it-

“ wrong” you say, voice dripping with disappointment. “We’ll have to stop here”

That’s when he finally snaps out his daze, the blurry image coming together and forming a clear picture of your disappointed face.

“No no no no no!" He shouts out in protest, sounding wrecked and desperate, body withering under your touch as you wrap your hand around his wrist to halt any and all movements on his cock. “Why did you stop?”

“You got it wrong, Noir. We have to do it again” you repeat in a much slower tone, giving him time to digest your words.

He goes to say something again but the look on your face has him halting any attempts to protest. “Yes sir” he says under a shaky breath as he prepares for you to pull the beads out of him.

“I hope I made it clear that you are not allowed to cum” you say sounding firm in your tone.

He tries to form a response, anything that won’t come out in the form of a wretched sob, but he can’t seem to find the words, too busy mourning the loss of his release and only manages to nod.

Don’t move, stay, take what he gives, something says inside of him.

“Good boy, Noir” you say as you tug at the end of the handle, watching the way the first bead slides out of him, evoking a deep groan out of him.

The second bead slides out of him and his vision starts to blur again.

By the time the third bead is sliding out of him he feels his knees almost buckle.

The onslaught of sensation keeps coming in waves - a pop-pop-popping sensation against his rim as you pulled the beads out of him, and despite everything in him begging to give in to his release he manages to hold out all the way to the last bead.

“Good there, Noir. Now, let’s try this again, yeah?”

[sicc-nasti]

Hanging out after a long day :9

[stiffyck]

Artists on Instagram and tiktok and most other sites are the strongest people on earth because the comments are always fied with so many stupid people. I'd be murdering them if that was on my posts.

People have no idea what the fuck art is.

[rogueolight]

wakaba and juri friendship because i tignk it would be funny

[puppetmaster13u]

My take on @phoenixcatch7 's Possessed Doll Au, specifically the designs lol. Technically a first rendition and might change (and of course it's not all of them seeing as there'd be others like Nightwing or Red Hood lol)

[ganondoodle]

(idk if anyone wants to keep hearing my opinions on totk book stuff but-)

apparently it says that rauru DID have kids, multiple even, which yeah... is kinda necessary for zelda to even be connected to them so much so that sonia can SENSE a blood connection (which, even with all the excuses with magic, is just a little too far for me to suspend my disbelief bc its over, OVER, ten thousand years worth of generations that seperate her from them that one lil touch of the hand can sense that (feels more like an attempt to make you care about them or .. see them as zeldas "better" parents just bc they exchange a few nice words, i never got the feeling they were 'better' parents and its also kinda disrespectful to her actual parents, like sure rhoam wasnt the best but i wouldnt call rauru better just bc he was polite)- i could see maybe the light power of hylia or sth but since its the coolest dude that ever lived rauru now that had it which still doesnt make sense and makes me unreasonably annoyed and she can sense BOTH of their powers in her? nah) the fact theres NOTHING about them in the game itself is just so ... no way they planned any of this

i dont think theres anything they can do or say that wont make be believe they either

are making it up alla 'fix it in post' mentality trying to hastily explain stuff the game never bothers to do to try and appease fans or let it appear as if they thought about it at all

something went really REALLY wrong during development, which kinda seems likely given how the game turned out (im sorry i cannot let go, its not just the writing, the game design too and how little was changed in the map while being so damn expensive, i dont know how people dont feel scammed q_q)

given that they (allegedly) spent the last entire year of development on polish (where??? where????? huh??? like it would make it more understandable (EXCEPT for the price) if there was alot of trouble, which was also bc it got delayed and ... turned out like this, but they dont want to say it, especially given their reputation, with that quote i have heard way too many times 'a delayed game blah blah') i just??

are they just gonna go and do it like they did with kashiwa (kass)? "they uuuh where flying around the whole time ony cool sonau tech maschines, you just dont see or hear from them ooooorrr they were uuuuh out of the country at the time" (sending invitations to other continents to join their glorious kingdom ;) )

(bet they are also gonna say they did all the stuff like ... moving the shrines around (lol?) and lifting the islands up into the sky- which is still weird bc ... didnt they also say they were living in the sky before coming to the surface?? so where?? did they park all their islands on the surface and the mystery kids had the keys so they had to repark them back into the sky after they returned off camera?? xD also why are the islands so different as an environment if they where from the surface? like even the STONE up there is different- and if they were first in the sky then on the surface and the nback in the sky .. why is there not a single yellow tree or grass in the past- you cant really argue that it changed bc they were up there so long bc .. nothing else changed, the suddendly and totally always there sonau buildings are largely in prime condition, only some slightly moldy, and what we see of the glorious past looks barely any different from the present, aside from like ... some standard trees shuffled, no castle yet and that glowy uwu filter DESPITE that stupidly long time frame between it)

[moss-on-trees]

dp x dc prompt: "never ever let a fenton drive", or team phantom's dimension-hopping adventure

danny inherited the abysmal driving skills of his parents. the people in amity park are used to it though so this wouldn't be such a problem if he hadn't started learning to create portals recently, as seen when he opened a portal under his car while driving to avoid crashing into someone else while pursued by the GIW (sue him, it was a stressful situation). jazz is passed out right next to him, sam and tucker are screaming in the backseat while dani's cackling between them, adrenaline junkie that she is. the car is falling into the ghost zone and right out of another natural portal. they land right in front of a group of weirdos dressed in colourful costumes.

"... the only reason why i'm not killing you a second time is because this city looks super goth," says sam, waving the fenton thermos threateningly.

"there's nothing stopping me," mutters tucker, eyeing the costumed people warily.

danny squirms. "well, at least the GIW can't get us there?"

[8thsniper]

hunter melly ideas

[deoidesign]

.

[corrodedcoughin]

Guardian Angel au where Eddie is sent down as a last ditch attempt to get him to abide by heaven’s rules. He gets charged with looking after Dustin, a kid who has just moved to Hawkins and could do with a friend. Eddie does his best to give dustin a bit of fun in his life, ends up with a good group of friends that really Get Him.

What neither of them count on is Claudia signing Dustin up to the big brother program. A program that lands Steve Harrington on Dustin’s doorstep and into their hearts. Eddie could spend his time feeling threatened by the clear hero worship Dustin has for the guy. Even spends some time doing a bit of background guardian angel-ing to make sure Steve isn’t going to mess anything up for Dustin. Only he ends up falling for the guy. Maybe he falls from grace in the process

[lucentstarss]

Ever since book 9.5 was a thing I’ve thought the book would be about how keefe already knows what (who) Elysian is

Like he figures it out in the human world or something

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

the x files au where everything is exactly the same except mulder takes home the child neanderthal from the jersey devil episode and raises them as his own