#morcellate

[of-root-and-void]

[I lay down a single dog biscuit]

《 a strange little morcel appeared before me. I dont know how it got there but i am greatful for it. It was not enough to satisfy my hunger, but it was enough to give me strength to move on from this place. Hopefully id remember more on the way to... wherever im going to be heading.》

[aashiyancha]

Here's the masterpost

[creamyforestmushroom]

I would like to thank all of Mappa for this week's jjk episode. They put their whole mapussy into it (I'm in severe mental anguish after the double whammy of chapter 236 and this episode)

[mosalahd]

am a bit late but ∞ please 💙😊

no worries at all!! you got the origin of my url on main aka one of my all-time favourite songs yeah right — vince staples

[oldmanyellsatclouds]

Just a goofy guy — Interesting to note that even on the most narcissistic platform (online diary) I still feel like I need a reason to post a picture of myself. I just like it, so now I’m posting it. Great, ok, next

[littlestonerthoughts2]

I swear to god if I have one more fucking conversation with some dumb ass moron who couldn’t tell the difference between their head and their ass I’m going to commit war crimes.

[delicatemagazinedreamer]

Laparoscopic Power Morcellators Market 2022- Trends, Comprehensive Analysis, Company Latest News, and Forecast to 2029

The Laparoscopic Power Morcellators Market has undergone significant developments in 2022, showcasing trends that are set to shape the industry's trajectory. This comprehensive analysis delves into the emerging trends, the latest company news, and the forecast for the market up to 2029.

Trends for 2022 The year 2022 has witnessed continued growth in the adoption of laparoscopic power morcellators. The trend towards minimally invasive surgical procedures has been a driving force. Patients and surgeons alike are recognizing the benefits of reduced scarring, faster recovery, and shorter hospital stays associated with laparoscopic techniques.

Another trend is the focus on safety and innovation. Manufacturers are investing in research and development to create morcellators that offer improved tissue removal while minimizing the risk of complications. These advancements are not only enhancing patient outcomes but also boosting the overall confidence in the use of such devices.

Comprehensive Analysis A comprehensive analysis of the laparoscopic power morcellators for market in 2022 reveals a positive outlook. The market's growth is driven by factors such as increasing prevalence of gynecological conditions, growing awareness about minimally invasive surgeries, and technological advancements in surgical instruments.

The competition among key players in the market is intensifying, leading to the introduction of innovative products. These products aim to address the limitations of earlier morcellators, providing better precision, efficiency, and safety during surgical procedures.

Company Latest News In 2022, several leading companies in the Laparoscopic Power Morcellators Market have made significant strides. Key players have announced product launches, strategic collaborations, and regulatory approvals to strengthen their market presence.

Companies are focused on developing morcellators that are compatible with various surgical approaches and provide seamless integration into existing surgical workflows. Moreover, efforts are being made to enhance surgeon training and education on the effective use of these devices.

Forecast to 2029 Looking ahead to 2029, the laparoscopic power morcellators for market is expected to continue its growth trajectory. As healthcare systems around the world prioritize patient-centered care and minimally invasive surgical options, the demand for advanced morcellation devices will rise.

Technological advancements are projected to drive the market forward. Improved cutting mechanisms, better tissue containment systems, and enhanced visualization tools will contribute to the development of safer and more efficient morcellators.

The Laparoscopic Power Morcellators Market in 2022 showcases a dynamic landscape with trends favoring minimally invasive surgical approaches and patient safety. The industry's comprehensive analysis reveals positive growth prospects, driven by factors such as increasing awareness, technological advancements, and the competitive strategies of key market players. As the market continues to evolve, innovations in morcellator design and surgical techniques are set to reshape the landscape, making the forecast for 2029 promising for both patients and stakeholders in the healthcare industry.

[curl-up-and-cry]

i jsut want to be held goddamn it

[stuck-writing-sickos]

In Poor Taste [P4]

[Series Link]

(Yandere × F! Reader)

[Warning: misogyny, explicit language, violence, harrassment, bodily harm]

(A/N: i see some of yall find Lukas so offputting 🎯yall not rocking with him? Why❤️What for✨️ is it his personality 💕is he vile and disgusting 🥹? do u hate him💋? Do u wanna beat his ass 🫶? )

You were never crazy about spoiled rich men. They were nothing but troubles.

He didn't expect to see a familiar face in the tight, dim, sweaty corner of Tokyo. He regretted going to this silly punk rock concert in the first place, but he did say this morning that he would go to one so he could talk to you about it. Mostly he was set on going because he wanted to try out something new, something to talk about - his peers wouldn't set foot near this underground coffee. It was unfortunate that he had no genuine interest in the music - it was loud and complicated. Unpredictable. The guitar might sound cool, but there wasn't a groove to which he could chill and bob his head or trip balls on mushroom while making out with a stranger. No trippy backdrops here - just the dim, anxiety-inducing colored stage light.

So he was there at a standing table way back, watching the crowd dance and scream. He found it strange - the hair, the makeup, the eccentric clothes. The only thing he would safely get behind was the fishnet and leather skirts that some girl really rocked. Sometimes, the girls over at the States would wear that to bars or theme nights. He liked that. He didn't like the way he feel here - half aroused, half judgemental. He would rather the tight sportwears on tanned blond surfers or yoga instructors. The ones who earned nods and hums and vile comments from his frat brothers were he to kiss and tell. Being attracted to them made him feel normal. Accepted. Approved. He wouldn't be caught dead eyeing these women.

But his friends weren't here, so he got to look. Never tell, though. Or if he did, he would say "oh, they dressed crazy", or "their eyeliner were scary", or "their piercings freak me out".

Deciding that it was time for another beer, Lukas begrudgingly went to the bar again. He felt anxious and alone, sticking out like a sore thumb. He earned quite some looks from women, but he couldn't be so sure if they liked what they see or if they could tell he was a poser who only came just to say he did it. He couldn't read their expressions, partly since he was drunk, partly because he was now considering the cultural differences, even if only for a morcel. He was made aware of it most pointedly this morning: the couple faux-pas he made with Sakamoto might have been intentional, but the guy's lack of reaction made him question how big of an insult he had put out there.

Sakamoto made him feel defensive, though Lukas decided not to dwell on it. He wasn't one to feel insecure, especially with guys like that - soft faced and soft-spoken. His big round eyes and sickly skin made him look like a woman, too. At least, Lukas would acknowledge that he was tall. But that was his only saving grace.

He wasn't explicitly aware that he was feeling more territorial over you. It wasn't about you anyway, it was by default. Even in the past, he had done these things - putting down other men to get to women. They were his wingmen, he would justify, they weren't supposed to outshine him. When it was his turn to wingman, he definitely let his brothers dog on him for days. It was common and understandable. If anything, Sakamoto should make ways for him. A girl like you wouldn't suit that guy - he was too uptight and serious. What would two high-strung people do together? You should be with someone who know what a good time is. Also, he saw something Sakamoto didn't - a glimpse of your tattoo. Those family-man wouldn't know how to deal with that. How would he take bring that up to his family? They would freak. Even his sister's "31:25" tattoo freaked his parents out, and they were already the most liberal rich family in his neighborhood.

Yeah, Sakamoto should leave you to him.

Settling in on a barstool, he ordered another beer, then repeat himself when the bartender couldn't quite make out what he was trying to say.

Lukas let his eyes scan the people sitting near him. Only a few, he noticed. It wasn't a crazy crowd to begin with.

After this beer, he'd go home.

As the bartender come back with his bottle, Lukas noticed something he didn't expect. From the crowd, you emerged, making your way toward the bar. He blinked, trying to see if he was mistaken.

No... that was definitely you.

All black from head to toes, you treaded silently like a death omen, your sleek heels clicking. Your short sleeved turtle neck and your tight pants started a heat within his chest. Your face wasn't any different, though - just the usual look. No crazy eyeliner, no bold dark lipstick. Seemed like you did not come here to impress the crowd.

You didn't notice him. Hopping onto a stool at the other end with your back facing him, you ordered something.  You knew Japanese, or just enough to get by. A lot of expats got to that point eventually.

Lukas debated on confronting you about your lies - you said you would be at dinner with a friend. Or maybe he could do that tomorrow.

He didn't peg you for such a casual liar.

Lukas hatched another plan: he could observe you, and see how deep your lies could go. Sipping on his beer, he followed your movement. You adjusted in your chair, still with that calm manner you carried yourself. Then, his eyes rested on your skin left bare by the bold backless top. You looked good, but clueless. Would you know the implications of such a shirt? The way your body moved in it... men would think you were asking for troubles. Bad men. Asshole men who didn't know they were pigs. At least he had the decency to admit that he was a pig, but he was an honest pig who respected women. He was a pig who knew to ask once, then if rejected a couple more time just to make sure, then he would leave it alone. Most pigs wouldn't know to even ask.

You sipped on your pink cocktail. That was cute. Your right now style reminded him of those ravebabes he met during spring break, but you were more subtle and quiet. Your movement were less urgent, and your clothes were less exposing. It was a nice feminine touch.

Your moment of rest didn't seem to last long. A man had chosen to sit down right next to you. This man was lanky, dressed in a very unbuttoned black button-down. He started to chatter, first in Japanese, then in English. Another sleazeball trying to test out his games. Lukas wondered when would be appropriate to interfere.

Your body language made it clear you weren't interested, but not afraid. Immediately covering your drink, you tried to turn your body away. The man seemed not to mind. If anything, his speech seemed more excited, his hands moving around like a stupid puppet. Desperate, Lukas thought, that was not a good look.

Deciding your half-finished drink wasn't safe anymore, you laid it on the bar and stepped down, trying to leave. Upon this, the man caught your wrist, forcing you to turn his way. Lukas' stomach twisted - here it was, the moment where he step it and scare off this asshole.

A loud, off-tune note shred through the music. Lukas looked at the stage. The band played on, but it seemed there was a technical issues with the guitarist.

The momentary distraction cost him his chance to intervene. When he turned his eyes back to you, he was hit with a strange scene - in a swift movement you twisted your arms around the man's and grabbed onto his forearm, forcing it down so hard he stumbled. Your face, now turned sideway during the commotion, was eerily calm when you talked. Lukas heard "Sir... I said no."

The man said something in Japanese, something that sounded bitter. Probably a curse word. Lukas jumped off his seat just as the stranger swung with his free arm to slap you across the face. The bartender seemed to have decided that whatever was going on was enough, and she rushed to you. Before she could, you clenched your idle fist and landed an uppercut so hard the harrasser let out a cartoonish "oof", his limp fingers releasing you as he stumbled backward, hitting right against the bouncer who appeared as if from the shadow.

Something in Lukas awakened in that moment. Your stone cold feature and your bruised knuckle left him slack-jawed. He stepped closer, intending to ask if you were okay. Once again, he was interrupted.

"Sir and ma'am, please explain what happened", the burly bouncer commanded. The pathetic guy excitedly tried to speak, but you only crossed your arms and watched. Your eyes was set on the sad attempt at vidication, but you were patient to let him finish his spiel.

"Is it true that you attacked this gentleman unprovoked, ma'am?"

"I apologize for the commotion, sir", your bowed, hands now hanging right atop your knees. Pulling yourself back up, you continued, "this young man seemed to have taken my rejection poorly, and he had slapped me across my face. I understand that my punch was unseemly, but I did that in an attempt to protect myself. He had gotten ahold of my arms and hit me, so I was fearing for the worst."

The bouncer's scowled, but he decided that he had heard it all. His big hand grabbed onto the stranger's wrist, and together they exited out the backdoor.

The fight definitely grabbed some attention. Lukas stood watching you look around, soaking in the side eyes. Taking in a breath, you dusted yourself off and hopped back onto a barstool. The thick, moist, cigarette-dense air fell heavy in Lukas' lungs. He felt his heart drumming, his body hot from an excitement he couldn't surpress. Something about the way you fought hit him like ecstasy.

He wondered if your punch hurts.

Lost in the unprecedented euphoria, he could only gaze at you as some women came up and asked if you were okay. You reassurred them with a familiar smile, one he had seen you wore at work. Your voice was soft again as you thanked the chirpy crowd for their concerns.

Lukas didn't say anything to you that night. He went home and let the image of you and your victorious knuckle bruises lull him to sleep.

___

"Do you need me to find out who he is?"

Yuki wasn't happy when he asked that. The sight of your bandaged hand and the medical patch on your face stirred his stomach with guilt.

"No, of course not", you shook your head, "I'm fine! Really, it was nothing."

Yuki pursed his lips. The lunch he packed himself suddenly tasted like cardboard.

He tried to make it easier by reminding himself that at least Lukas didn't push to have lunch with you today. In fact, the guy had been stoic for the entire morning. Even though you weren't around, Lukas had somehow been working on his computer silently instead of sprawling on his chair like a slacker. Perhaps you had reminded him about his attitudes at work?

If you did, Yuki was impressed that the newbie knew to listen. He didn't think that kid would be the type to do so.

"Sakamoto, please don't worry. I had fun, and your set was great."

He looked down. He knew he wasn't directly to blame, though the guilt never went away- he was well-acquainted with this sort of harrassment. Right in his childhood home he had witnessed worse. What grated him the most was the silence afterward. The way his mother's frail form would hunch, casting a bent shadow on the shoji, her hands cupping her face. He was too young and small to do anything but stand in the hallway and watch as she eventually moved, mute and rigid. He heard the folds of her clothes creasing against one another and the floorboard barely creaking under her feet.

She couldn't have fought back. She was sickly. When he grew into his middle school uniform, Yuki tried to fight on her behalf but his teenage body bounced off his father's sturdy chest. His father was a merciless man, strong like the grey stone wall surrounding their mansion. Yuki remembered the disappointment in the old man's voice as he lamented "my only son is emotional like a woman, and weak like one, too."

"I see...", he said to you, his voice weary. He didn't know what else to say. He didn't want to bring up the fact that when he saw your tug of war, he let his hand slip across the strings, messing up the song. He had planned to jump off the stage, but his lead singer had tugged on his sleeve and eyed the bouncer who was already coming your way. What was there to tell you? He couldn't say that he had almost done something. Either he did something or he did nothing. In this case, he did nothing. Yuki tried to find solace in the fact that you held your own, but he couldn't. You shouldn't have to, not right in front of a friend.

Another wave of bitterness hit him when he remembered Lukas standing there watching, hesitant to interfere, tall and awkward like an useless telephone pole. Yuki wondered if he should bring Lukas up, but he decides against it. He didn't want you to feel worse - a friend and a junior watching you getting hit, that would not brighten anyone's day. He felt sorry for you to have to deal with two cowards.

Well, if he couldn't feel better, the least he could do was to keep you from feeling worse. He had been of no help with his stupid sad face. After all, this should not be about him. Yuki shamefully put his feelings in the corner as he tried to think of something that would cheer your up.

"Hey, would you like to check out a cat cafe this weekend with me?"

Your eyes lit up.

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's right down the street from where I live. I have been meaning to visit, but it would be awkward to go alone."

Yuki already visited. He liked their cakes and tea. Still, he saw no harm in a little white lie to make his invitation seem more natural. He would hate for you to get the idea that he felt obliged to make up for what happened. That would be a transactional spin on what was supposed to be a gesture of friendship.

"That would be so nice! I also was hoping to relax a little lately..."

The knot in his chest unraveled at that.

___

You were intimidated by Lukas' switch-up. Since morning, he was quiet. Upon seeing your bruises, he asked what happened, to which you gave a vague respond about tripping on the sidewalk. No more inappropriate attempts of flirting nor small talks - he appeared to be engrossed in the tasks you handed to him. You found it simultaneously nice and unnerving, so a part of you were glad that you were scheduled to teach until lunch. You were worried that if you were near him for too long, you wouldn't be able to resist asking him what triggered this change.

You thought of asking him to join you and Sakamoto for lunch, remembering the agreement you had made the day prior. Though, by the time you reached the lounge, he was getting ready to leave. "Please don't mind me", he said with an oddly soft smile, "I need to pick up something at the convenient store nearby. I hope you and Mr. Sakamoto have a good meal". His out of character veneered grin hit you like a brick.

By the time afternoon rolled by, Lukas occupied only a corner of your mind. You were mowing through the last days of school, teaching, writing, planning the end of year school festival. When you landed from the whirlwind and came back to the lounge for your last hour, you barely noticed the junior colleague who was still hunched over his laptop. Brushing past him, you got settled. Your tense body completely dropped its guards as you melted in your chair.

Your gaze met with a bottle of cold green tea in your cubicle. From the thin condensation, you figured it hadn't been around for long.

"Afternoon", Lukas' voice echoed from the other side of your corner, "you seemed tired. It's not much, but I hope you feel a little more refreshed drinking that."

"Mr. Lukas... it's so nice of you. I'm embarrassed to not have anything in return."

He didn't move to look at you.

"Don't mind it! You had a long day."

His tone was cool and distant, a long shot from the flirtatiousness you had to suffer so far.

"Really, thank you, Mr. Lukas. I do like this brand a lot, so this definitely made me feel better."

There was a quick pause before he spoke again: "I'm glad."

He moved at last, turning to you. You missed his gaze as you twisted open the cap and took a sip.

"If you don't mind, I would love your opinion on the powerpoints I made so far."

"Of course", you nodded, rolling your chair his way. He arched back, giving you the space to take a look

Your attention was on the mistakes he had made. You had a flaw: you were a perfectionist. Despite your lack of vocal reaction, you knew you could be critical when you saw someone take over your work incorrectly. It comes with expertise. Still, you had trained yourself to manage the uneasiness and maintain an encouraging attitude - something your close friends called "softening the blow".

You often forget, though, that your face could betray you.

"Okay, you did great so far", you said, neglecting to meet his eyes, "but I want to make some notes here. Would you mind?"

"Not at all."

For someone so surprisingly tough, you lacked an eye for details. You didn't see the look on him as he watched your hardening face and bandaged knuckle as if he was starving.

[gooppoo]

Finding a Mate: Part 3

Requests Open!

mdni.

warnings: more spiceeee, Neteyam is still a grown man, creampie, squirting, cuddlingggg, size kink, praise

Hearing you plead for Neteyam in a syrupy, siren-like way left him hungry.

He felt called to jump into action, "Are you sure-?"

"Yes!" You exasperated, squirming from your lust's intensity.

Understanding, Neteyam confidently planted his lips on yours to reassure you were well taken care of. Not for a moment you thought otherwise. Again, your hands were intertwined against your chest, both of you feeling your powerful heart. Neteyam was calculated with his movements, so if you changed your mind, you knew which stage of the process you were in. But not a single morcel in your physical or spiritual being had undergone the desire for tangible release like this.

His free hand glided down your now glistening physique and eventually your center, gathering newly secreted slick. Feeling his digits discover you made you sigh, involuntarily jolting when your clit was caressed - purely out of admiration from Neteyam. With the substance on his hands, he quickly made the connection to coat his stiffness. His leaky pre-cum mixed with your essence was a hot, sticky mixture of heaven, exacerbating the vehement longing in his lower abdomen.

"Oh Neteyam-!" You whined, under-stimulated and overwhelmed. You couldn't blame him for getting caught up with himself admits the passion thickening the air.

"Are you ready?" Your mate had adjusted his hips to be aligned with yours, hands still intertwined, eyes full.

You hummed an eager, 'mmhmm!' and felt pressure moments later. With disgusting ease he slipped into you, cautious and slow, inch by inch, leaving you with ample time to adjust to the stretch, and enjoy how complete you felt being filled. Both of you mewled out variations of groans and grunts and gasps, praising about how good it all felt. And when Neteyam could go no further, a second was dedicated to bathing in the bond you had created.

"Fuck," Neteyam heaved, forehead finding refuge against your chest and nipping along your collar bone.

"Neteyam," you breathed, "please move."

Your mate's composure was slipping as he slowly removed and sent himself back into your tight center. Once again at the hilt, his muscles gave way some and his shaky moan sounded in your ear like intoxicating music. It rippled down to your hips and left you vicing around him, making him grunt. Once the acuteness of his timely thrust subsided, a rhythm was introduced, as were sloppy kisses to your neck, and even your own lips.

Driven by pure, sinful lust, your tongues collided and slipped past one another, accentuated with moans, from his thrusts or the hotness of it all was unnecessary to identify.

When your legs wrapped around his waist, he assumed, "Faster?"

"Harder."

Your request barely made it to the world because the next syllable was a pleasurable shriek exploding from your throat.

Neteyam's free arm kept him propped upward, and this newfound rigor made you grasp his muscle to maintain your sanity. Now with some distance between your expressions, Neteyam noticed your heavy lids and drunk eyes, furrowed brows and slack jaw, spit covered lips and sweet, sweet moans.

"Feels good, doesn't it pretty girl?" He grunted rhetorically, you could only hum your response.

Unbeknownst to you, your clasped hands had been unraveled, and his palm held your lower back above the ground, giving him a more intimate angle and you a more delicious experience. From this stance he noticed his length bulging in your stomach, and this left his tail flicking excitedly.

"Mmm feel this baby?" He brought your palm down and had you press between your hips, a newfound sensation left you whimpering.

"Neteyam-" you fought to catch your breath, "I think-"

"Are you gonna cum? C'mon baby, please cum for me, let me hear it all."

The cherry topper was him vigorously rubbing your clit with a speed you didn't anticipate. The orgasm quickly reaching your floodgates wasn't akin to the one you had previous, it was going to be messier.

"Neteyam!" You howled, every nerve in your body on fire. Your g-spot within was nudged restlessly, your clit toyed with roughly, and your own greedy palm still applying pressure to your groin. There was no stopping the gush from your cunt. All you could feel was Neteyam, taking advantage of all your pleasure weak spots and tormenting them in the most pleasurable way possible.

And when he felt you totally release, he released too. Head tossed back and biting down hard onto his bottom lip to contain his screech. Every clamp around him was another twitch of cum infiltrating you. All you could be attentive of was the gushy warmth creaming within you and how your world buzzed euphorically. Nirvana was all you could imagine, all you could feel. Until your limbs flopped against the grass.

With similar exhaustion, Neteyam gently pulled from you -- to not overstimulate himself or leave you sore -- and collapsed in the grass beside you. Lazily, an arm draped across your torso and barely inched you closer.

"Even with you just inside me, you still feel you must be close to me." You panted, laughing dryly.

Neteyam's voice was muffled by his face in the grass, "Being close to you is my favorite thing, Y/n."

Admiration tickled your cheeks, pulling your lips into a grateful smile. Your arms connected with his over your torso. Buzzing with joy and honeymoon-like love made you invincible.

After he caught his breath (face still tickled by grass), Neteyam rose and perched his chin on the heel of his palm. Sleepy, adorable eyes crossed yours, and moments later brought you in for a tender kiss.

Conveniently, eclipse bestowed Pandora, and an honest sleepiness weighed on you and your mate. Pursuing his 'favorite' act, both arms swaddled your near limp body onto his steady chest, chin nuzzling the crown of your head. Careful to avoid his nearly recovered injuries, you snuggled against his unharmed peg, tracing the outline of his bandage.

"I see you." Neteyam rasped, softly, caressing a palm over your braids.

Smiling, you reciprocated, "I see you. I've always seen you, Neteyam."

No further words needed to be exchanged. Drowsiness quickly rued your being and sent you into a slumber quickly and deeply. The added warmth of Neteyam's safe arms encouraged your restfulness, and keeping you close mirrored the affect for him.

Through this, you hoped Neytiri and Jake would see you, too.

[ace-marshmallow]

I'm so proud of you, sweetheart.

You just look so marvelous with the extra weight, I can't wait to see how much more good-looking you'll become as time goes by.

I know you've been trying very hard to accomplish your goals and every morcel of food that passes your lips is a little victory. You're doing such a great job at gaining weight for you and for me.

You are so so beautiful and loved, baby.

I only wish you could see yourself as I see you, so cute, so chubby and lovely. I want to kiss you each time I see you, hug you so tight to share the butterflies in my stomach and feel how soft you are.

The indent of your belly button in your t-shirt is only my latest obsession, without mentioning your soft arms, face and hands.

You are so beautiful, so perfect.

And I am so proud of you.

[lovely-abeille]

Im not really sure how to articulate this but could you possibly do a web-weave about performance? Like wearing a mask to hide or fit in and conform to the world around you but beneath you dont know who you are or you hate yourself and thats why you pretend...something along those lines?

a diary entry written c. august 1922 featured in "diaries", virginia woolf // morcellation, leila chatti // please hear what i'm not saying, cardinal deardon // an ocean of grief

[oldmanyellsatclouds]

Am back to compulsively thinking the phrase “I want to kill myself” today. Ayoooo

(idk compulsively is probably not the right word but I don’t know what the right word is. It just pops into my grade at the barest hiccup)

[gabessquishytum]

Tonight's brainrot is You've Got Mail! AU. Dream has the small, corner bookstore "The Prince of Stories", a name his older sister gave to him when he was a kid, and which he runs with Lucienne. He doesn't earn a lot, but it's a cozy place, where he spends most of his time reading to kids with his deep, tell-tale voice. He is adored by the kids and the entire neighborhood for his way with children, but also his sweet albeit shy nature. He is also an absolute disaster in his love life, currently being with a partner who barely pays attention to him.

Enter Hob Gadling, the owner of the collosal bookstore chain "Companion" that just opened in the neighborhood and is threatening to decimate the last morcels of Dream's clientele. Dream wants to hate him, but when they meet at a party he has to act all frustrated in order to hide the truth: that he finds Hob absolutely delightful. Hob is funny, down to earth, nothing like the dick billionaire everyone expects him to be.

He is also hot as all fuck and something like out of the fairytales Dream reads to kids.

Hob too finds Dream adorable. Hob never wanted to actually strangle the life out of small businesses, he was just born in this business and that's how it's done. He finds Dream sweet, exceedingly knowledgeable and caring, and devastatingly handsome.

The two of them start chatting on an online chatting page, unknowingly. The page is called "100 messages later" and the idea is that, if two people manage to keep chatting for 100 messages, they agree to meet in person.

Which they eventually do, but Dream immediately books it when he sees that it's Hob dick-who-is-about-to-bankrupt-me-and-i-still-want-him-to-rearrange-my-"bookshelf" Gadling.

AHHH yeah this movie is so weird and toxic but I like nothing better than fictional weirdness and toxicity, especially with dreamling in the mix!!

It's not like Hob is even a bad person, okay?! Hes just trying to make a living and help his company grow. He has employees who deserve that, hell, he wants books to be cheap and available for everyone. He's not the evil capitalist that Dream seems to think he is!! Hence, when he finds out that the cutie he's been writing to online is in fact Dream... Hob doesn't tell him. (Dream still didn't realise that Hob was his date... he writes to his "100 messages" partner, apologising for missing their meeting - he had to run away because he saw this awful guy that he hates, this sleazy corporate guy who's trying to ruin Dream’s business...) Hob knows now that Dream hates him, and doesn't want to ruin what they have! And yes, he knows that Dream will find out eventually. But Hob wants to savour having Dream’s attention (even if it's only online) for as long as possible.

As it happens, Dream does not hate Hob. He's actually battling a rather large crush on him - that's why he ran off. Maybe there's some way they can coexist? Oh, if only loving and talking to Hob was as simple as talking to the guy on "100 messages"...

[fandoms-my-fandoms]

Phineas and Ferb Season Five

I’m sorry but when season five finally premieres, it’s OVER. I will not eat, sleep, leave my room, go to class, or BREATHE until I finish every last DROP, SCRAP, SNIPPET, FRAGMENT, PARTICLE, PIECE, and MORCEL…of Phineas and Ferb. I won’t be able to talk about anything else for DAYS. nay, WEEKS. nay, MONTHS. IM GOING TO LOSE MY MIND. I WILL BE SO FERAL CONSUMING ALL THIS NEW CONTENT AND INFORMATION. I will go insane. I will RULE the WORLD.

…anyway, uh.

…thanks for coming to my Ted talk.

[cursedthing]

.begging for lantern soul au doovid to be granted even a morcel of rest