#perfect web solutions

[hottopic-wannabe]

yk what fuck it. if tumblr isn't going to give us a dashboard tab for our moots then i'll DIY one

[teckeydesign]

From Zero to Hero

In the bustling digital landscape of Jaipur, finding the right web development company can transform your online presence from zero to hero. As the gateway to your brand's digital identity, your website deserves nothing but the best. With a myriad of options available, navigating through the sea of web development companies can be daunting. Fear not! Teckey Digital Solution is here to guide you through the process of selecting the perfect partner for your web development journey.

Understanding Your Needs

Before embarking on your quest for the ideal web development company in Jaipur, take a moment to reflect on your needs and aspirations. What purpose will your website serve? Who is your target audience? Are there any specific features or functionalities you require? By clarifying these aspects, you lay a solid foundation for your search.

Researching Web Development Companies

With your requirements in mind, it's time to delve into the realm of web development companies in Jaipur. Start by compiling a list of potential candidates based on their expertise and services offered. Explore their websites, scrutinize their portfolios, and assess their credibility in the industry.

Evaluating Portfolios and Case Studies

A picture is worth a thousand words, and the same holds true for a web development company's portfolio. Dive deep into their past projects and case studies to gauge the quality of their work. Look for projects that resonate with your vision and objectives, ensuring compatibility with your brand identity.

Checking Reviews and Testimonials

Seeking validation from previous clients can provide invaluable insights into a web development company's reputation and reliability. Browse through reviews and testimonials to glean firsthand experiences and assess customer satisfaction levels. Pay attention to recurring themes and feedback patterns to make an informed decision.

Considering Budget and Pricing

While quality should never be compromised, it's essential to align your budget with your expectations. Request quotes from shortlisted companies and compare their pricing structures. Strike a balance between affordability and value, ensuring that you get the most bang for your buck.

Communication and Support

Effective communication lays the groundwork for a successful collaboration. Choose a web development company in Jaipur  that prioritizes transparent communication and offers robust support throughout the development process. Accessibility, responsiveness, and proactive problem-solving are key indicators of a reliable partner.

Finalizing Your Decision

Armed with research and insights, it's time to make the ultimate decision. Evaluate each candidate based on their compatibility with your requirements, budget, and timeline. Trust your instincts and choose the web development company that resonates with your vision and values.

Teckey Digital Solution empowers you to embark on your journey from zero to hero with confidence and clarity. Our comprehensive suite of digital marketing and web development services caters to your every need, ensuring a seamless transition into the digital realm. Elevate your brand's online presence and unleash its full potential with Teckey Digital Solution by your side.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

1. What sets Teckey Digital Solution apart from other web development companies in Jaipur?

At Teckey Digital Solution, we pride ourselves on our commitment to excellence and customer satisfaction. Our team of seasoned professionals combines technical expertise with creative flair to deliver bespoke web development solutions tailored to your unique needs. With a focus on innovation, reliability, and transparency, we strive to exceed expectations and elevate your brand's online presence to new heights.

2. How can I determine the right budget for my web development project?

Determining the right budget for your web development project depends on various factors, including the scope of work, desired features, and long-term goals. Our experienced team at Teckey Digital Solution can work with you to assess your requirements and provide a customized quote that aligns with your budgetary constraints without compromising on quality or functionality.

3. What level of support can I expect from Teckey Digital Solution throughout the development process?

At Teckey Digital Solution, we believe in fostering open communication and providing unparalleled support to our clients every step of the way. From initial consultations to post-launch maintenance, our dedicated team is committed to ensuring a seamless and hassle-free experience. Whether you have questions, concerns, or need assistance, we're here to provide timely and effective support to ensure your project's success.

4. How long does it typically take to complete a web development project with Teckey Digital Solution?

The timeline for completing a web development project can vary depending on its complexity, scope, and client requirements. At Teckey Digital Solution, we prioritize efficiency and quality without compromising on speed. Our streamlined development process and agile methodologies enable us to deliver exceptional results within reasonable timeframes, ensuring that your project is completed on schedule and to your satisfaction.

5. Can Teckey Digital Solution assist with digital marketing services in addition to web development?

Absolutely! At Teckey Digital Solution, we offer a comprehensive suite of digital marketing services tailored to enhance your brand's online visibility and drive measurable results. From search engine optimization (SEO) and pay-per-click (PPC) advertising to social media marketing and content creation, our experienced team can devise a customized strategy to amplify your online presence and attract more leads and customers.

6. How do I get started with Teckey Digital Solution for my web development project?

Getting started with Teckey Digital Solution is simple! Reach out to us via our website or contact us directly to schedule a consultation with one of our experts. During the consultation, we'll discuss your project requirements, goals, and expectations to formulate a tailored plan of action. From there, we'll guide you through the process from concept to completion, ensuring a seamless and successful journey from zero to hero in the digital realm.

[damlahayal]

RABİSU - PLATİN (2)

In an ever-evolving digital landscape, having a reliable online presence is integral to success. At Rabisu, we specialize in delivering tailored hosting solutions that empower businesses to thrive. Our diverse range of services—spanning VPS in the UK to comprehensive web hosting—ensures that every client can find the perfect fit for their unique needs. With a focus on speed, security, and seamless performance, Rabisu is dedicated to providing you with the infrastructure necessary to scale your operations and engage with your audience effectively.

VPS UK

When it comes to vps uk hosting, Rabisu stands out for its unmatched performance and reliability. Our virtual private servers are meticulously designed to cater to businesses that require a scalable and secure hosting environment without compromising on speed or up-time.

With Rabisu, you leverage cutting-edge technology that guarantees exceptional performance, allowing your applications to run smoothly even under high traffic conditions. Our VPS solutions come with full root access, enabling you to customize your environment to meet specific needs.

Additionally, Rabisu offers flexible pricing plans that ensure you get the most bang for your buck. Whether you are a start-up or a well-established organization, our plans can be tailored to suit your requirements. We believe in providing our customers with the best value, ensuring your investment drives the desired results for your business.

With 24/7 customer support, you can rest assured knowing our expert team is always available to assist you with any issues or questions you may have. Choosing Rabisu means choosing peace of mind when it comes to managing your digital infrastructure.

Secure your VPS UK hosting today with Rabisu, and take the first step towards a more efficient and scalable online presence. Visit Rabisu to get started now!

Hosting

When it comes to reliable and efficient hosting solutions, Rabisu offers a range of options tailored specifically for your needs. With our cutting-edge VPS UK hosting, you can expect exceptional performance and stability, ensuring that your website remains online and responsive at all times.

Our hosting provides you with dedicated resources, allowing you to customize your server environment according to your unique specifications. This means you have better control over your website's performance, allowing for faster load times and a superior experience for your users.

Rabisu is committed to delivering top-tier security features with our hosting services. We implement advanced security protocols to protect your data, ensuring peace of mind while you focus on growing your business.

Furthermore, our customer support team is always available, ready to assist you 24/7. Whether you're facing a technical challenge or have questions about configuring your server, our experts are just a call or message away, guaranteeing that you are never left in the dark.

In choosing Rabisu for your VPS UK hosting needs, you are opting for reliability, flexibility, and unparalleled support; what more could you ask for? Take your website to new heights with our outstanding hosting solutions today!

[technovillain]

my d.e. fanskills set

these are based on my own personality. so just allow me to be nerdy and vaguely vulnerable for a second.

INTELLECT

SCAFFOLD: call back to past solutions to problems. You are a seasoned professional who can make a Venn diagram of any two situations. This is always appropriate. Cool for: Architects, Think-Tankers, Technical Support

IDEOLOGY: apply your truths. Bring those Philosophy 101 facts to the forefront and show everyone you know how the system works. Fuck the man. Fight the power. Cool for: Soapboxers, Revolutionaries, Activists

REFERENCE: recall previous facts and information you have stored in your head. Cool for: Scholars, Expert Witnesses, Archivists

THREAD: tie unrelated things together to form new concepts or truths. Easily led astray by distraction. Cool for: Conspiracists, Investigators, Crossword Champions

RACONTEUR: tell a story, be it true or false. Is the web you weave convincing? More importantly, does it baffle and dazzle the mind? Cool for: Authors, Compulsive Liars, Dungeon Masters

EVERGREEN: your childlike, everlasting hunger to learn more, and to learn everything. A potted plant frustrated by its root space. Cool for: Finger-Painters, Those Who Pine, Renaissance Men

PSYCHE

APRÉS MOI: look forward to the consequences of the future. See yourself return to the clay and find what remains. Cool for: Dark Poets, Forensic Scientists, Prognosticators

MOTLEY: a fool from a fantasy world. Thinks nothing of the mortal realm and encourages escapism through imagination. Cool for: Spiraling Entertainers, the Absent-Minded, Nincompoops

SOLICITUDE: show compassion and understanding to those around you. You've been there before, reassure them. Cool for: Village Elders, Veterinarians, the Lonely

MATRYOSHKA: connect with versions of yourself long gone. Different names, the shunned, the dearly missed, hold court with them all. Cool for: Introspects, Therapists, Those with Identity Disorders

L'APPEL DU VIDE: think of all the ways it could go wrong. Usually unnecessary and distressing, occasionally enlightening. Occasionally allows you to get into the mindset of a lunatic. Cool for: People on the Edge, Paranoiacs, Health & Safety Inspectors

BREECHES: you're a big boy, you're a grown up, these are facts that you can believe all the time. People take you seriously. You are confident. Cool for: Fragile Egos, Self-Proclaimed Big Boys, Younger Siblings

PHYSIQUE

GUTS: something is stirring in your stomach. Can you handle it? Cool for: Daredevils, the Honest, Dumpster-Divers

SWIVEL: scope out the room. Locate danger and emergency exits. Trust no one. You aren't paranoid, you're just being more cautious than everyone else. Cool for: Bodyguards, Runaways & Fugitives, Petty Criminals

FLOODGATES: Hold it in. Don't cry, don't emote, don't let them know what you're thinking. Cool for: Feeling-Bottlers, Chronic Tough-Guys, Judiciaries

MULTI-TOOL: be resourceful with your tools. Use everything for multiple purposes, get all the juice out of every fruit in your basket. Cool for: The Frugal, Those Who Hate Doing the Dishes, Tailors

ITCH: encompasses most primal desires. Destruction, feasting, sexual gratification, violence. Cool for: Vandals, Hedonists, Party Animals

VIGOR: the overall state of your immune system and physical health. Your body is a well oiled machine. Cool for: Health Nuts, Olympians, Hypochondriacs

MOTORICS

FLOAT: sneak around, light as a feather. Leave the environment undisturbed. You are a gentle breeze. Cool for: Jewel Thieves, Eavesdroppers, the Forgotten

IGNITION: the adrenaline-fed movements of a maniac. How scared are you? How badly do you want to run away? Cool for: Prey Animals, the Guilty, Cowards

FLUIDITY: loosen your jaw and unclench your fists. You're in control of the situation, and none of this will matter a year from now. Cool for: Yogis, Enlightened Monks, Trusted Leaders

PANACHE: move your body in all the right ways. You are unthinkingly perfect at knowing where to put your hands and feet. Cool for: Masters of Charisma, Dancers, Impressive Show-Offs

CROSSHAIRS: make precise and accurate motions with your body and the tools that you wield. Cool for: Court Stenographers, Sharpshooters, Sign Interpreters

BRUNT: bear a heavy load. You don't need any help with this. Your muscles and joints are forged of steel. Cool for: Heroes of the Working Class, Shot-Putters, Powerlifters

[avelera]

Unwell thinking about how the possibility to push Viktor to ask for more of Jayce's attention, or even to remove Mel from the picture, didn't even OCCUR to Future Viktor. Because he truly thinks that Jayce can't possibly unconditionally accept him and his flaws. He NEEDS to be physically perfect first.

So the timeline of Jesus Viktor keeps playing out as an inevitability, partially fueled by Jayce's attention being pulled towards the Council and missing a lot of red flags happening with Viktor.

When all it would have taken was Viktor directly asking Jayce for help or attention instead of skirting around the issue/generalising it to "people need our help". That sweet dog of a man would have dropped anything if only you asked, Viktor

Jayce would have dropped EVERYTHING, E V E R Y T H I N G if just ONCE Viktor had given him an unambiguous, "Help me!" I believe this in my bones.

And this gets into something I love about S1, which is how airtight it is written (S2 has a lot of bigger events but lays less groundwork, it's why I give it a 95% instead of a 100% like S1, just as a writer). Because you can go back to S1 and see every single moment that people could have prevented what comes later, and exactly why they were unable to do so.

You can see that Silco wants to shut down the bridge to trap Vi in the undercity -> He tells Marcus to find a way to shut down the bridge -> Jayce as a new Council is flustered and overwhelmed so when Marcus says the only way to be 100% safe is to shut down the bridge he says sure, let's do that then, because Marcus deliberately only gave an engineer one solution so the engineer listened -> Viktor gets trapped in the blockade after acquiring Shimmer, he's nervous and on edge because he has illegal drugs on him for an illegal experiment -> Jayce is overwhelmed and harried and freaking out because he's been summoned down to the bridge to collect Viktor. He's also freaking out because he's now worried for Viktor's safety because he's been getting fed crisis after crisis about how it's the people from the undercity who are dangerous, he just saw death for the first time after Jinx's explosion and he grew up with Piltover prejudices that are resurfacing under the assault of Silco's machinations, Jinx's attacks, and Marcus's manipulations -> Jayce freaks out and yells at Viktor out of fear for his life -> Viktor who was in an emotionally vulnerable place, fearing for his own life and worried he'd lose Jayce's regard if he proceeds hears Singed's voice in his head saying Jayce might not understand, decides not to tell Jayce about the Shimmer. Jayce's prejudices also push Viktor to clam up instead of going to him for help like he might have otherwise -> overall the chaos on the bridge and the Molotov further heightens the tension and robs Jayce and Viktor of a moment where Viktor would have felt comfortable coming clean, asking for Jayce's help, or bringing him in on the experiment -> Sky dies as a result -> EVERYTHING that happens in Act 2 as a result of Viktor doing those Hexcore experiments alone.

Like that's just one example of how that one bridge scene argument is caught in an incredibly intricate web of human cause and effect, it's fucking genius.

But we see why Viktor didn't ask for help, even aside from that one conversation on the bridge. He generally doesn't ask for help, perhaps because of his disability and his pride, perhaps out of shame because he knows these experiments are extreme, perhaps out of fear because he doesn't want Jayce to know how close to death he really is and fear clouds your judgement, perhaps because it's a very human, self-defeating thing to do.

And as for not asking Jayce to dump Mel... how could he? He's dying. When he dies, Jayce is going to be alone in the world, how can he begrudge him a new partner? Even if he despises her existence in Jayce's life with every fiber of his being? Especially when she seems to represent that he and Jayce's paths in life have diverged, and maybe that's what's best for Jayce! He has a promising future elsewhere, even if Viktor hates it, he's dying and he doesn't have the right to ask Jayce to change, not unless he can cure himself. Not unless he can offer himself as a real alternative.

Which is what makes the Mel-inspired look for his robot in 2.08 so fucking bonkers. Like wow, Viktor did it! He cured his disease and transcended humanity and he's working on their dream like they always wanted and he's BACK and he's ready to FIGHT for Jayce's time and attention, while effectively cosplaying as a robot version of Mel, in the Council Chamber that stole so much of Jayce's attention as if he needed to do any of those things to get Jayce's attention other than just ask him for it directly using his words.

[notanactressyayy]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫

— ₊⊹ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 . Natasha Romanoff x reader

— ₊⊹ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 . in which she finally feels heard, seen.

— ₊⊹ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 . angst, emotional breakdown (panic attack), swearing, mentions of scars (sh), mentions of suicidal ideologies. Nat being honest and open about her feelings for once. hurt/comfort.

— ₊⊹ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. rainy days, match sad stories. venting.

divider credits: @saradika-graphics ༉‧₊˚.

the heaviness of the afternoon air settled over Natasha — weighting down what was already heavy. her mind, her body.. everything felt like a weight, a weight she carried since she was born, or even before her soul was incarnated in her body. she felt— no, she knew that she was born in bad news, cursed, and there was no way of getting out of this. it's funny, those were the exact same thoughts she had ever since she was a child— 10, 11, maybe? and in that age, crossed her mind that probably when she grew up, those ideas would vanish and she would be free to have a normal life.

but that certainly didn't happen. and now, she found herself trapped. trapped in web that the more she struggled, more stuck she got, and that was a routine that repeated over and over and over — optimistic, optimistic delusional thoughts that came to battle with the bad ones, telling her that things would someday be okay, and the real, coherent ones, that crushed all the hope, the little sparkle of hope she had within her, making her mind a complete and total mess. chaos behind chaos. sleepless nights, restless days.

god, how good would it be if at least, her body wasn't enchanted. how perfect would it be, to throw herself down a building and don't feel anymore, instead of having just a few scratches here and there. the blade helped, even with the acknowledge that a normal person would feel 10 times more than she did. because the pain was still little, when comparing to everything this woman already endured. the red lines on her arms and thighs were just a reminder of the red on her ledge, and that it was now impossible to wipe away.

in moments like those ones, her brain desperately searched for any solution, any thought to refute her current state — it was the human instinct to survive. (yeah, she's human). her eyes squeeze tight, feet stumbling forward and hands gripping tightly the trailer's window rail, knuckles turning white.

inhale, exhale. inhale— no, let's stick to panting.

her mind would drift back to the little girls who she shared her life with in the red room, remembering each of their personalities, what each one of them would do in a situation like this. ironically, for Natasha, they deserved to be listened and helped. but herself? nah. but in the deep end, she didn't know if they were still breathing, still in this world. what was the point..?

"come on..." she mutters, hissing loudly as her legs start trembling, knees ready to give up. "stop, stop, stop, stop..."

her heart never felt so filled with anguish and pain like right now — yes it did, but it was always like that: whenever that happened, the past experiences felt like they never existed — and the now felt like too much to handle. her ears buzzed, the sounds of the wind blowing across the tree leaves around her went down to volume zero — the hair on her legs and arms went up in a deep shiver, and eyes went wide — realization.

the same fucking realization as always. nobody listens, nobody cares. no one will ever know her true story. no one will ever fix her. she won't be remembered. her life's a waste— why was she even born, when everything that happened was disgrace after disgrace. that's when the thread snaps, and her body reacts before her mind can follow.

her throat closes, as if suffocating — body falling backwards, hitting the floor with full force. her fingers run through her hair and tug on the strands, pulling them strongly, even breaking a few of the auburn locks. tears of desperation threatens to fall down her cheeks, but she doesn't really realize that yet. she's just so out of air, that's impossible to control any other action.

"why won't that fucking—" Natasha manages between gasps. she groans, grabbing on the skin of her thighs and squeezing them harshly, creating moon-shaped little marks, enough to draw blood. "won't it— stop!"

then, she sobs. wait, but.. why did it felt like.. relief? perhaps because now, she was in your arms.

a foreign, strange sensation of warmth, warmth of another human being, enveloped her. she didn't recognize who it was, nor did she care. with pure instinct, her arms wrapped around the person's midsection, clinging for dear life. and now, with the sense of security, she was able to cry freely. she cried silently, something you didn't like. her chest heaved with emotion, but you wished she was louder. she was taught that widows didn't feel pain, wether it was physical or emotional. that's why her small cries sounded as painful and miserable as loud ones. you, sitting on the floor with her, scooped her weeping frame into your arms and held her — her side against your chest, head tucked in the crook of your neck.

sadly, it wasn't the first time, and you knew it wouldn't be the last. you were always in the trailer with her when she had breakdowns like this one. and that was what broke you the most — her brain subconsciously would tell her she was alone, and she didn't know how to deal with intense feelings like those: thus, she didn't know how to ask for help, how to come to you so you both could prevent those mental draining episodes.

when you first met Natasha, the first thing she asked you was to forget that she was a deadly spy, an avenger, or whatever the hell else people knew her as. at least for a day, so you could see where things would go. this fact only, meant that since the beginning, she had a feeling about you.. one she couldn't quite put a finger on, but which made her want to be herself, with no masks or titles around you.

it was common sense everything she went through. but only you knew about her true point of view. when her own self felt like an outside observer regarding to her own life, you were always there to remind her of who she was.

"you're safe... you're safe, i am safe.. we're both safe.." you whisper, running your hand up and down her shivery arm, putting the cold away. "okay, Nat? you are safe. i am right here, ready to fight whatever evil that befalls you.''

"i don't know.. i-i just.. i'm exhausted... i'm s-so tired.." she manages between small cries, eyes pleadingly looking up into yours. her hand reaches out and intertwine her fingers with your own, grasping on every sense she had of your presence — because she knew it could fade again, that she could fall in the loop again. and it was torturous. "i never.. no one ever listened to me... i never.. told anyone.. about.. a-about..."

"i know." you nod, arms tightening around her. you crawl a little backwards, just so you could reach the blanket that laid upon the couch and grab it. you wrap it around her with one hand, not letting go of her own. she subconsciously brings the fluffy fabric closer to herself and snuggles up against your body. "but you can tell me. isn't it clear, malyshka? that you're stuck with me?"

malyshka. the endearment term in russian she had taught you. she loved it, so goddamn much. a little weak smile tugs on her lips, the kindness you were showing her easing the tension — as if you were offering to carry the weight with her. compassion, empathy. so foreign.

"i just.." she shakes her head, sniffling and taking a deep, shaky breath. she stays silent for a few minutes, and you wait. voice so quiet, small.. and scared. "before you.. no one ever.. held me. i never had anyone holding me. i never had a touch that didn't mean harm. never had anyone to listen."

"i know, Nat. and that pains me more than you think." you confirm, running your fingers through her hair, and nuzzling the side of your face against her cheek, resting on your shoulder. "but trust me, i will listen for hours, days, years and centuries. if you wanna share every single second of your life with me, i'm here to listen."

"that doesn't make any freaking sense to me." she chuckles humorlessly, a soft groan escaping her throat. she was feeling a little tired. "but.. the truth is.. few people understand what i went through. the little people who lived in the same circumstances as me are probably all dead.. and... i truly don't want you to understand. i don't want you to try and live the same horrors as i did. all i wish for..."

you take a moment to stare at her when she pauses. hurt arms, tear filled face. oh, what you wouldn't do to protect this heart. to keep it safe. never let anything harm it again.

"all i wish for, is for you to be here. to hold me like you're doing, to share your own experiences with me, to live with me. to whisper sweet nothings in my ear by the night. handle my body gently. just be here. be here and i know i'll be forever safe."

that was it. everything you ever wished for. you exhale deeply and shift her carefully, so she was on your lap. she looks down at you, and at your hand.. that slowly comes up to land on her cheek. she leans against it and breathes heavily. you smile, waiting for her next expected words.

"can i..." she clears her throat, hands shyly gripping your shoulders, eyes looking at you from below her eyelashes. "can i cry more?"

"of course." you cradle her again and settle her thighs around your hips. her arms wrap around your neck, and she gently leans her head on your shoulder... allowing herself to cry.. out of relief.

your right hand tenderly caresses her leg, tracing over the self indulged scars she had. the left one, makes slow, soothing circles on her spine, moving up, and down her back. she was letting all her emotions out, all the pain inside her heavy heart, was flowing out of her being. thanks to your patience, your gentleness, and your love.

turns out, love wasn't only for children. goodness gracious, how good it was to be loved...

"god," she sobs, squeezing you tighter, nose brushing against your hair as she allows herself to.. let go. "god, i need you."

"i'm here." you confirm quietly, looking up and kissing her temple. "i'm here, i'm not going anywhere."

[anantaru]

DAY 5 — APHRODISIACS

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — tighnari, kazuha

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, aphrodisiacs, dry humping, cowgirl, a little sweaty (side effect of the drug) & lots of cum, feral feral feral, both parties are consenting

𖧡 — TIGHNARI

before you can blink, tighnari presses a metal, at a size of a toothpick, with a drop of crystalline liquid against your tongue, the fluid thawing into your flesh before you're closing your mouth, watching how he's planting the exact same dose on the inside of his lips— moreover, in just a matter of time the bizarre solution began to express certain signs on the state of your body and overall mental capacity when you're touching all over each other, lightheaded tearing and feeling each other up, as if detained by a beclouded response.

the wet sounds of your lips crushing on top of his, rounding your tongue inside his mouth in an almost animalistic rush while your nails were desperate to rake over tighnari's scalp, digits brushing over his sensitive ears to pull him close, the kissing turning heavy when he settles one of his hands on your back, squeezing you against his scorching hot, reactive body with his growing erection nestled in between, in dire need to expose of those tight, uncomfortable pants.

it feels like torture was slowly being forced on to the both of your bodies— despite it being tighnari himself assuring you about the strange substance he was researching on, that you will experience a sense of unwavering calmness, hand in hand with a collected perception by an additional seventy percent.

the side effects would barely show themselves, he promised before muttering something under his breath, but now— the obscene sounds of sloppy kissing slowly drilled and conquered your mind, by now being pressed tightly against the bed, your pussy soaked through the flimsy material of your panting and clenching in longing for his cock to finally bore inside.

tighnari humps his aching cock into your clothed pussy, adding and greatly fueling the frustration and helplessness, if neither of you don't turns out mad because of the mixure taking your mind hostage, you would certainly go mad from lust.

whilst, particularly how tighnari was placing his length just the right way on your core— with towering on top, adjusting his hips and grinding in between your folds until all the way up to your clit, he rubs you there too, thrusting fast with no remorse as to how you're being ruined by not only the drug rampaging inside your blood, but him appearing feral alike.

"fuck—" tighnari moans, "i feel.. hot." and almost winces, cupping the side of one of your thighs to pull you close, his disheveled clothes glued on his body due to the excess sweat the drug was producing, his lips shortly after trailing down against your ear to your neck which also had a faint film of perspiration on top, causing the helplessly rocking of his hips pressed against your wet pussy to increase, hitting extremely near to an orgasm without even taking your clothes off.

"baby.. please." you say, "tighnari— i feel so good.." you repeat and say it loud enough that it would suffocate you— and everything feels heavy around your muscles, your drenched clothes webbed on your skin, the humidity of the room burdening a hefty amount that it limits your capability to breathe as tighnari hides in the nook of your neck, your head falling back before he ends up to shifts his entire weight on top of your body.

you're distorted with pleasure, welcoming the blows of his hips rutting into your clothed pussy as your panties messily crumble against your folds— dried up with your arousal and a surplus of sweat you have to tell tighnari about adding on to the possible side effects.

although in spite of that, neither of you cared about that presently, tighnari was more so occupied on crumbling his eyes down to your wet, fluttering hole and your underwear soaked, presenting the outline of a perfect cunt to his hankering gaze.

𖧡 — KAZUHA

kazuha grins widely at you, drunken on a literal winning smile when you swallow down the strange pill he flaunted in front of your very curious, enchanting eyes— to take it, gulp it down and let it work it's so called “magic”, as he tends to say, whereas his hands were there to take you, listlessly going around the plush of your ass while he's aiding you in straddling his lap.

interestingly enough, it has merely been a good ten minutes before your reactive senses sharpened and you perceive everything to a greater degree now— the aphrodisiac expanding in your system, littering around your body to work when you flinch at the uncommon sensation, then whine against kazuha’s lips, melting your tongues in a heated exchange. his traces and rubs on you felt like fire against your hypersensitive flesh, but, archons, how come being on fire suddenly feels so unexpectedly good?

with deft movements, kazuha clumsily unbuttons his pants and tugs them down his legs so they'd hang uselessly around his knees, opening the view to his cock throbbing in between your thighs— he's swollen and his girth looks in pain, and you're taking it in your hand before placing your cunt right on top, small, needy ruts sending shivers down the entirety of your spine.

his mouth finds yours the second your hips roll into his ache, hungrily pressing your core on him yet all you really longed for was for him to sink his cock inside you, right now, please.

neither of you was intending to wait any longer, especially with the pent up frustration growing and being amplified by a ten fold. you quickly push your panties aside, your boyfriend watching you intently whilst drinking in the moans you'd let out against his lips from his cock fusing on your soaked cunt, his mouth attaching around your every curve on your face as you hear him sigh heavily against your ear.

whilst kazuha was left with no choice, thinking that if he wasn't about to slide his cock inside your warm, wet cunt, he would end up exploding from the painful bristling on his groin, together with your hearts racing and synchronizing, chests pressed against one another, his free hand helping you to take him inside as you're sinking down on his inches, swallowing him whole, the movements slow yet powerful enough to have you whine through a clenched jaw, responding to the slow, deep kisses of his swelled tip nudging against your fuzzy patches with gentle ruts of his cock, jointly with his other hand swiping over your hips, your body jolting at the contact of his nails digging into the plush of your ass.

and when it's all said and done, the drug had sent you into a frenzy, the small dose of the aphrodisiac long since devouring you.

by contrast, kazuha was insatiable, the sweet moans from your lips growing a warm, flushed shade on his face as his cock drags against the spongey spot within your walls, hips rolling, pressing inside the flesh fast and your cunt giving his length good squeezes that he's sighing your name in a breathy heave. the stickiness between your legs and across kazuha's lower stomach making your toes curl in both embarrassment and the need to continue.

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[queeraang]

sometimes, you dislike a piece of media that is very popular and objectively well made. the popularity of it will only make it more annoying to you. now, the solution is not to then comb through a thing you don’t like to see if you can find something problematic to harp on to prove it's actually bad (you will find it, no human being has ever created perfectly inclusive perfectly inoffensive art) that just tanks the vibe and discourages new art because what's the point if it can never be perfect, also sometimes you spin out of control and start accusing people of real life crimes over like... a niche webseries

as someone with over three decades of 'bad taste' under their belt, allow me to guide you on best responses using a real life example of a popular film series, i couldn't give less of a fuck about. the nolan batman trilogy

block, mute, blacklist, whatever you have to do to avoid seeing this thing on your preferred webbed sites

allow yourself a quiet “ugh this shit” when things slip through the cracks

pick a neutral element of the thing to dislike when people ask “i’m not really a batman fan" "i like more lighthearted superhero movies"

when inevitably someone can't BELIEVE you don't LOVE the best thing EVER MADE, you make it boring to talk about "yeah couldn't get into it" "it's just not my thing"

it also helps if you admit that it is good (i'm so sorry) just not good to you. the metaphor i use is gordon ramsey could make the most immaculate mushroom risotto ever made, but it's still not going to taste good if you don't like mushrooms

change the subject/leave the convo. i don't sit around listening to ppl talk about the dark knight, i ignore the gc for a few minutes, i go get a drink irl, if it's one on one i go "no, but you know i did like birds of prey, have you seen that?"

if someone really won't let up, stop talking to them! a guy who always wants to talk about how i should watch batman is a fucking weird guy to know

vent about this with like minded people SPARINGLY, too much and you'll fall down the "and everyone who does like it is morally bankrupt" hole

crucially, don't do this to other people for stuff you like. you're not the arbiter of taste, your "best movie ever" could be someone else's "if i have to hear about that shit again i'll scream"

like i'm sure i could figure out ways the dark knight trilogy is racist/ableist/etc if i really examined it, but like... i would so much rather just NOT WATCH THREE MOVIES I DON'T FUCKING LIKE

[simpxxstan]

best friend's older brother wonwoo

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the members' headcanons in the event too as i post them through this month!

warnings: pg 13+, making out

thinking about best friend's older brother!wonwoo who is just nine months older than your best friend, so he's in the same class as the two of you

you don't even want to figure out how that happened. but it's good for you, because it lets you get an upper hand over wonwoo whenever he tries to bully you.

and bully you he does. he's a massive bully. behind that nerdy, good boy look he charms everyone with, you know that jeon wonwoo is an absolute menace to society.

from stealing your essays, to forcing you to show him your solution of homework, he doesn't spare a chance to irritate you. the worst bit is that he's got everyone convinced that he's the best boy that could ever live and no teacher or parent ever finds a fault in him. if the two of you fight, it's always you who gets scolded. if the teacher spots the two of you talking in class, it's always you who gets punished.

after ten years of facing this, you've come to the conclusion that the universe is unfair. it's a relief that you're in your final year of school and finally, you can count the days until you can get rid of this menace.

thinking about best friend's older brother!wonwoo who knows he's pushing luck every time he annoys you

but he still gets away with it, either through sheer chance or through his good looks and manners.

it's just not fair that he's born in this universe where you're always around him, with your indomitable sarcasm and overperforming tendencies. you seem to be made for him, but in the worst way possible. with you out of the scene, wonwoo would always be first in class, always win quizzes and spellbees, always win the 700 metre sack race. naturally, it can't be his fault for thinking of ways to expel you from school.

and when the two of you hit puberty and wonwoo realises that underneath your acne, you're actually growing up into the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, it makes the entire situation even worse. because now, you're the subject of his annoyance and his desires. and he can't get you out of his head for the best and the worst reasons possible.

so wonwoo is equally relieved as you are to be in the final year of school, with the comfort that as he becomes an adult this year, he will finally live a life free of pests (you).

thinking about best friend's older brother!wonwoo who becomes ill the very week of the midterms

as a result, he misses out on several classes of key revision and even some internal tests that will count towards your final score. you score full in all these tests, getting quite the lead ahead of wonwoo, and yet, you don't feel that rush of joy when you see your perfect score. is it because you don't see the frown on wonwoo's face on seeing you beat him? is it because you don't feel the adrenaline kick in on meeting eyes with wonwoo and seeing the disappointment in his eyes?

at night, you recount about your day's academic successes but it doesn't generate any satisfaction in your heart. for hours you stay awake, trying to make sense of the ache in your chest, wondering what's missing these days that's leaving you feeling high and dry.

it's only at 3 am that you attempt something to cure this worry. you sit up, under your table lamp, writing up your notes on fresh paper, in your best handwriting. you even highlight key portions and add extra information beyond class notes, that you've learnt from the web or from the library.

the next day, you drop the notes with your best friend. "give this to wonwoo asap, hmm?" "notes? he said he'll just use mine-" "well, if his pride isn't too much, he will know what's good for him."

thinking about best friend's older brother!wonwoo who comes back two weeks later

he doesn't talk to you at first, trying to avoid your curious gaze. but you confront him in the corridor after classes are over. you stand right in front of him, your hands on your hips, your eyebrows furrowed. "you still look pretty pale," you tell him. a part in wonwoo wants you to touch him and see if the fever's still there. but he knows you'll not do that.

"you didn't have to send the notes. i would get them anyway." "a thank you would be nice." wonwoo bites his lower lip. is he ready to say thank you to you? is this why you sent the notes? to show your pity towards him? to cast a favour on him? to always be one step ahead of him even on the moral ground?

wonwoo doesn't end up saying thank you. his pride is too large a pill to swallow, and his mind keeps doubting your intentions. after all, ten years of rivalry is not easy to let go of, even if you look even more beautiful after two weeks of not seeing you.

but his attitude towards you changes. consciously or not, he becomes less snarky towards you. and he's surprised to see reciprocation too. you seem more open towards discussing homework with him. you even cooperate with him when your teacher asks you both to organise the annual prom event of the school. and wonwoo's pretty sure this cures his health faster than any medicines the doctor's prescribed to him.

thinking about best friend's older brother!wonwoo who's sitting in his shared bedroom with his sister, playing games on his computer, while she gossips with you about the prom couples of the year

wonwoo doesn't come into the room after that, but when you leave the room to use the washroom in the hall, you see him sitting on the couch and reading a book. "it's rude to listen to other's conversations, wonwoo. haven't you ever learnt that?" wonwoo doesn't look up from his book, so you take a step forward, intending to make yourself heard. "it's also rude to not reply to someone when they are talking to y-"

"guess who asked me today!" "man, i don't know, you tell me. when did they even ask you, i was with you the whole day?" "when we were walking back home and you were fighting with wonwoo in the convenience store about which ramen to buy."

your best friend pouts slightly, which she always does whenever she sees you fight with her brother. "i hate it that even after ten years, my best friend and my brother have not been able to get along. i feel like it's a failure on m-" "okay stop feeling guilty already, and tell me who asked you out for prom!" you squeal, and she giggles too, a high-pitched sound that's so different from her brother's breathy, raspy voice (not that you'd ever prefer his voice over hers). "im changkyun! isn't that so exciting!" you gasp loudly, clapping your hand over your mouth. "girl! i'm so excited for you, he's so dreamy." "i know! i had no idea he liked me!" "oh you're so lucky, love. his voice is so deep, and his eyes are so pretty, and he's so smart! what would i not give to be his prom part-" "im changkyun is a smartass and a teacher's pet. i see birds of a feather do flock together, y/n", wonwoo interrupts your conversation suddenly, giving you a piercing look before he walks out of the room in his haughty manner.

"come with me to prom." wonwoo finally looks up, his book kept on his chest, as he looks straight into your eye. you're standing half a metre away from him, but you can still feel the fire in his gaze.

"sorry, what?" "come with me to prom. be my prom partner." you purse your lips, pretending to consider it. "and why would you ask me?" "because you don't have a partner." "how do you know that?" "you just told me." wonwoo stands up, a smirk on his lips. "why are you asking me, wonwoo? i don't need your pity, i don't need a partner to enjoy prom." "you're right. although it's not pity. i'm just returning the favour. your notes are helping me keep up my academic record in order to get into the colleges i want."

it's a reasonable offer. when he frames it like this, it feels less like a personal affair and more of a professional situation-

"truce." you extend your hand and he shakes it. "truce it is." "for all your big talk, i bet you're asking me only because you're bitchless as fuck." wonwoo laughs at that. "don't be jealous. i'll see you on friday, y/n. be ready at 8."

thinking about best friend's older brother!wonwoo who has all eyes on him at the prom party but his eyes are only on you

"everyone's talking about you, you know." your arm is in his as the two of you lean against a wall, digging into the pastries being circulated. it's a blessing you accepted his offer, because a. if you had refused, he'd never be able to meet your eye confidently again, and b. you're the only one promising him intelligent conversation tonight, and he's glad you're the one talking to him.

"it's my dad's tux. it's what he wore at his prom." wonwoo doesn't miss the way your eyes glaze over his outfit in an appreciative look, and it makes his heart beat faster in his chest. "you look good, but i'm sure he looked better than you in it." "but you think i look good?" your eyes meet his, a tentative look that says more than words will. "i do. does it matter?" "well, a man likes to know that his prom partner approves of him." you laugh, your voice a beautiful tinkle. how has he never noticed how melodious your laugh is? "you're hardly a man, jeon wonwoo. you've got a long way to go."

and he'll go the long way. he'll take risks tonight. something about the perfume you're wearing is making him heady. something about the way you never let go of his arm makes his body warm with something unknown but pleasant. something about the way you're close enough for him to notice how often your eyes stray to his lips when you're talking to him makes him want to take a chance.

when the two of you are alone in a balcony, the fresh air blowing your hair away, revealing your elegant neck and a hint of your collarbones, and you're talking something about how a certain book is helping you study for biology, he zones out and his tunnel vision focuses on your lips. so he leans in and kisses you. it's an extremely short, chaste kiss, but wonwoo's never kissed anyone, so even this shoots electric sparks through his veins.

"what was that for?" this is the first time wonwoo's seen you blush, and his hand instinctively reaches out to touch your warm cheeks, trying to understand if it's for you. "i would ask you to prom even if you did have a partner. i didn't want to go with anyone else apart from you." your eyes are delightfully wide, looking so innocent and so cute. there's a pause, as wonwoo waits for you to give him the green signal or not. when he's going to give up and back off, you tug at his arm and pull him closer. "well, then kiss me again, and let me see if like it."

thinking about best friend's older brother!wonwoo who takes you to his car and gets into the back seat with you

"you look so, so beautiful today." he tells you in between kisses, as he pulls you closer to him. and you let him, your mind foggy, and just one thought rushing through your veins- wonwoo, wonwoo, wonwoo. his kisses are addictive, and you're clinging to him like a drug, letting him bite your lips and kiss your jaw and make a mess of your lipstick.

thank god for the privacy of wonwoo's car, and thank god he's learnt to drive early on. because you'd be so embarrassed of the way you're also equally hungrily touching him, as if you'd waited your entire life for this. but you don't have time to question your thoughts, and frankly speaking, you don't want to. you just know one thing for sure: you've been such a fool for hating wonwoo for so long, when he kisses like this and when you're so attracted to him.

when you're both out of breath and just sitting next to each other, slumped back as he holds you close to his chest and you snuggle your face into his warm body, you finally start confronting your thoughts. when you go silent for a moment too long, wonwoo asks you, "penny for your thoughts?"

you look up at him. why haven't you ever noticed how divine he looks under the moonlight? "i was thinking why we didn't do this sooner." "maybe because you were busy hating me." you sit up, gasping and turning around to face wonwoo. "excuse me? and what were you up to? loving me?" wonwoo smiles. "yes, loving you, i think. because i for sure love this sassy attitude of yours. and your smartass brain. and the way your lips purse into a perfect cupid's bow, but that's not the priority." you laugh. "you can just admit you like me because i'm hot." "yes i could. but that's not the whole truth. i could never like a woman who's not as intelligent as you. i could never like a woman who's not you."

and with every word he utters, you realise how his feelings mirror yours as well. just then, both of your phones ping and you simultaneously take it out to see the notification. "my god- i- wonwoo! i got into my dream college! "me too! wow. congratulations, baby, i knew you would. it'd be their loss to not accept someone as perfect as you." you giggle. "shut up, you're so cheesy." wonwoo grins and you lean in to peck his lips.

"okay, show me your letter. let's see how far we'll be-" you take wonwoo's phone in your hands and read the mail. "f-fuck. you didn't tell me? you bloody-" "what happened?" wonwoo's eyes go wide in alarm and you nearly punch him in shock. "you applied to the same college i did! why didn't you tell me! oh, you sneaky boy."

wonwoo bursts out laughing. "why do you look so ready to beat me up? isn't that a good thing?" you pause, considering it for a second, before the dots connect in your head. you finally break into a smile and hug wonwoo, pulling him into a tight embrace. "i guess it is, baby."

[yandere-romanticaa]

❦ smooth operator.

❝ his eyes are like angels, his heart is cold. ❞

yandere! dazai osamu x gn! reader.

a/n: this fic has no plot or direction, I gave birth to it in under 5 minutes while I was preparing for a quiz I have tomorrow, take it or leave it plebs.

In this world, there were plenty of people who believed in God, fate or just any unexplainable being which lived high up in the heavens, hidden away from the shackles and filth of humanity, as that same being also liked to get its kicks from mocking the poor, defenseless humans.

As you stand on the streets of Yokohama, the hustle and bustle around you became quieter with each breath you took, those striking brown eyes never once leaving your figure.

Perhaps Dazai was that mysterious creature people prayed to, you reckoned. It would make sense, given how he always seemed to have the answer to every question posed to him, the solution to every riddle anyone could ever come up with and then some. He most certainly had the charisma and beauty of an ethereal creature - his slender figure became a common occurrence in your dreams, his beautiful brown hair made you want to run your fingers through it for an eternity and his carefree laughter always made your heart skip a bit. Yes, the man known as Dazai Osamu was as beautiful as any angel.

But, he could be crueler than the devil himself.

With a smug smirk, Dazai crippled the love letter in his left hand, the other casually resting on his hip. His gaze was no better than a dark void - cold, empty, terrifying.

You wanted to cry.

Literally anything would be better than this. Let the ground swallow you whole, let a random car hit you and split your head in two, let some random mugger stab you in the gut and leave you bleeding on the ground - anything would be better than to deal with the humiliation of Dazai's rejection.

You wanted to be coy, perhaps even cute. The thought of giving the man of your dreams a love letter felt like the perfect way to confess your ever growing feelings for him and even if he said no, at least your good colleague Dazai could just laugh it all away, never to be brought up again.

And you would have been okay with that, truly, well, sort of...

Dazai says nothing for a good minute, his face giving no hints as to what he may or may not feel. Even if his gaze was schooled into that of stone cold, perfect nonchalance, his heart and soul were anything but.

Against your knowledge and better judgement, you played right into his hand.

For months, Dazai had been carefully orchestrating meet ups, hang outs and even random times when you would see him on the street. He was no better than a spider, a creature of pure and utter patience. He had woven his web of lies, charm and deceit and you ate up absolutely every single little crumb he had left for you.

Perfect.

In order for you to truly become perfect in his eyes, Dazai had to mold you at first. You posed too many questions at times, which he found to be bothersome.

He does not like dealing with any form of bothersome, especially if it's someone so damn cute.

In order for him to finally hold you how you wanted to be held (well, he sort of tricked you into feeling that way... But, that detail doesn't matter!), a crucial step was for him to break you in, to delete anything he did not fancy and just... Replace it. Make it better, nicer, safer for him.

And what better way to do so than by breaking your poor little heart in two?

It was cruel, yes, he was aware. It was all going to work out in the long run though, he knew so. Dazai was never wrong when it came to these things, never.

And by giving him this silly love letter, you gave him the ability to control you to the utmost extent. How delightful.

[belit0]

can i get a tobirama au where he’s always busy with being a hokage and making up new jutsus/training his students in his free time that he doesn’t notice his neglect of his lover? at least until he’s finally home…… only to spend time in his office again 😞 then reader storms in calling him out over the lack of attention and starts crying when tobirama doesn’t understand. he just sees the situation as of one of his jutsu equations needing to be solved (she’s the hardest equation to him). HAPPY ENDING PLSS! THANK YOU 🙂‍↕️

Tobirama, tobirama... such a silly little boy

Night had fallen over Konoha, dim light from the flickering flames tracing stark lines across stacks of scrolls and unfinished paperwork, highlighting the crease in Tobirama’s brow as he scrawled calculations onto a fresh sheet.

His thoughts were an intricate web of seals and techniques—refinement, improvement, perfection. He did not have time to be distracted.

Even now, after days away from home, he had only returned to bury himself in more work.

A sharp bang against his office door jolted him from his thoughts. Before he could respond, (Y/N) stormed in, eyes burning, jaw set tight with barely restrained frustration.

-Enough.- Her voice cut through the silence like a blade.

Tobirama’s hand stilled over the parchment. He lifted his gaze, taking in the tension in her shoulders, the tremor in her hands, the way her breath came too fast, too unsteady.

-…What’s wrong?- He meant for it to sound calm, but the moment the words left his lips, something in her cracked.

-You’re asking me that?- Her voice wavered. -Tobirama, I haven't seen you properly in weeks. You come home and go straight to your office, and when I try to talk to you, it’s like—like I don’t even exist.-

He blinked, as if processing an unexpected miscalculation. This was a problem. He could recognize that much. But he didn’t yet understand the solution.

-I have responsibilities.- His voice remained steady, measured, as if that alone should be an answer. -The village—

-I’m not the village!- Her breath hitched, her fists clenched at her sides. -Tobirama, I’m your wife. I understand your duty, I knew what I was getting into when I married you—but I refuse to be ignored like I’m nothing more than an afterthought.-

Tobirama stared at her, at the shine in her eyes, the way her breath trembled as if she were holding everything back. And then, without warning, her composure collapsed.

Tears spilled.

-I miss you.- The words came out broken, raw. -I miss my husband.-

Something in him stilled.

He had seen countless things in his lifetime—war, death, chaos—but nothing had ever made his chest feel so tight.

(Y/N) was an equation he had never been able to solve.

She was not like the jutsu formulas he refined, the battle strategies he mastered. There were no patterns, no clear answers. And yet, she was his. His constant. His anchor. And now—now she was crying because of him.

The realization settled deep, unfamiliar but undeniable.

Slowly, without a word, Tobirama rose from his chair.

(Y/N) stiffened, about to turn away, but before she could take a single step, he reached for her.

His arms wrapped around her, firm and warm, pulling her against him. She gasped softly at the sudden closeness, her fingers twitching against his chest as he held her there— as if, for the first time in weeks, he was truly present.

His voice, when it came, was lower. Quieter.

-You are not an afterthought.

She swallowed, trembling slightly against him. -Then… show me.-

A long pause. Then—without hesitation—Tobirama stepped back just enough to lift her into his arms.

(Y/N) let out a startled sound, but he was already striding toward the door. -Tobi?-

-I will not solve this problem by remaining in my office,- he stated simply, and for the first time that night, he looked at her—really looked at her. -We have time to make up for.-

And this time, when she pressed her face against his shoulder, her breath left her in a half-laugh, half-sob.

Because finally—finally—he understood.

Tobirama carried her through the corridors of their home, his grip firm yet reverent, as if grounding himself in the weight of her—the presence he had taken for granted. The tension in (Y/N)'s body slowly unraveled against him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his robe, her breath warm against his neck.

When they reached their room, he set her down with care, lingering a moment as if reluctant to let go. Candlelight flickered in the quiet space, casting soft shadows over the futon, the faint scent of night jasmine weaving through the air.

She looked up at him, searching, waiting.

Tobirama’s hands rose—tentative at first, then surer—as he traced his fingers along her arms, mapping the warmth of her skin. His touch was different now. Purposeful. Present.

He exhaled, leaning down, pressing his forehead to hers. -I am… not always good with words.- A quiet confession, his voice low, almost reluctant. -I can solve a thousand problems, master every jutsu I attempt, but this—us—you… You are the only thing I cannot calculate. And perhaps that is why I—

(Y/N) silenced him with a touch, her hands threading into his hair, gently pulling him closer. -You don’t have to explain.-

But he did.

Because for so long, he had not said enough.

Tobirama shifted, guiding her back onto the futon with the same quiet reverence he reserved for the things he valued most. He hovered above her, his crimson eyes dark with something deep, unspoken, as his lips found her brow first, lingering there.

Then lower.

A kiss to her temple. -You are my peace.-

Another to the corner of her eye. -The one thing I have never mastered, but will never let go of.-

His lips brushed the soft curve of her cheek, the delicate line of her jaw. -I hear your voice even in my silence.-

The words slipped free with each kiss, with every slow, reverent press of his mouth against her skin, as if making up for all the times he had failed to speak them aloud.

(Y/N) sighed softly, her fingers still tangled in his hair, stroking through the silver strands. He melted into her touch, his breath hitching for a fraction of a second when her nails dragged gently against his scalp.

She felt it then—the weight of his restraint, the tension that had ruled his every movement for so long. It was only now, here, with her beneath him, that he allowed himself this vulnerability.

Her lips curled faintly. -For someone who claims not to be good with words, you certainly make them feel like poetry.-

Tobirama huffed against her skin, his mouth trailing lower, pressing against the hollow of her throat where he could feel the pulse of her heartbeat—steady, alive, his.

His hands roamed gently now, exploring the familiar planes of her body, the warmth he had gone too long without. But there was no rush. No desperate fumbling.

Just this.

This quiet moment of reconnection, of rediscovering the rhythm of them.

-(Y/N),- he murmured against her collarbone, voice rough with something unspoken, something he felt but struggled to say.

She pulled him up then, cupping his face in her hands, eyes soft yet unyielding. -Tobi.- Her thumbs brushed over the markings on his cheekbones, grounding him, guiding him back to her.

A pause. A shared breath.

Then, finally, he let himself surrender.

[spoofymcgee]

Stone grew up lonely. Every other word out of his parents' mouths, his teachers' and siblings' was 'we'. 'This is what we do', 'that's just the way we think', 'we believe that's what happens'. He was never quite sure if everyone else genuinely felt connected all like that, one massive web across the globe sharing all these tiny little connectors, or if it was another lie. Either way, he wasn't stupid--he saw the way people started to watch him from a young age, too blank and quiet compared to the children around him, how they flinched back when they pushed him too far and he lashed out. If they were God's sheep, he was the wolf amongst the herd, quiet and docile up until something made him snap. He didn't blame them. He could watch, stuck behind reactions he couldn't control and didn't know how to change, observe exactly how different he was, how far even from the edges of their proclaimed crowd he'd been left behind. He'd grown up, though, turned the ivory mask of his face into an asset instead of a failing, the constant calm and the sudden violence into his tools, and made something useful of himself. It took longer than it should have for him to realize that he didn't have to be useful to the people who'd abandoned him. It took meeting the doctor. For the first time, Stone felt the addicting rush of being a speck of dust in the universe, some tiny miniscule part of a whole greater than he could comprehend. If he could be there to bring the doctor coffee, fill out the paperwork and herd squirming, bigheaded superiors away from his work, keep the rest of the mundane, everyday world as far as possible from the doctor's singular brilliance, he was something. It didn't matter how many times the doctor yelled, the insults that spilled off his tongue like being caught in a torrential downpour; painful and shocking and dangerous, but exhilarating if you were brave enough. The shattered coffee cups and raving and soreness of his jaw in the blooming shape of fingers was nothing compared to the electrifying experience of watching the doctor demonstrate the seamless flight pattern of a new swarm and know he'd soldered the seams and coated the wiring for some of that perfection. Stone had waved goodbye to any religion he'd been raised with three days into his acquaintance with the doctor. It wasn't like his parents' god had given him anything more or less than the doctor could provide, and he'd never felt like he could leave his fingerprints on the world more than he did watching the doctor wipe the smudges of them off the badniks' lenses. The doctor was indifferent. Any praise or condemnation on his part was mercurial, forgotten or remembered according to a pattern as senseless as the topography of a junk drawer. Stone was ultimately beneath his notice; nothing more than a stepping stone, a cupholder, an easy way to dispose of snags in his plans in the form of men with weapons capable of tearing open the fragile human shell containing his untouchable brilliance. He was universes away from Stone, and Stone was nothing more than a faceless solution to minor annoyances. But he was the one who got to stand here, who got to serve the doctor, argue for him and squabble for him and spill blood for him. It was more than anything he'd ever dreamed of getting, and everything he could have wanted.

[captainjonnitkessler]

I was listening to the "Wellness to QAnon Pipeline" episode of Maintenance Phase, which is as it sounds an episode about how people start off well-meaning and curious and end up drawn into QAnon conspiracy theories, and honestly it mimics a lot of behavior I've seen from the left recently.

Like at its core, QAnon believes that there is an elite class of people who hold all the power and can get away with any number of horrible crimes, because the rest of us are all powerless peasants who are being kept in the dark. The only real difference between them and leftist conspiracy theorists is that QAnon calls the elite class (((globalists))) and leftists call them billionaires, but once you start thinking like that it is SUCH a slippery slope from one to the other. It's incredibly dangerous.

It's stuff like confidently stating that Boeing got away with assassinating whistleblowers even though there's zero evidence and it doesn't even make sense that they would do that. Or insisting that Democrats are intentionally losing elections in order to play up the threat of Republicans in order to get elected, which again makes zero sense. It's insisting that the Democratic party fails on purpose because they are one discrete entity that moves in perfect unison and not, like, thousands and thousands of people with different ideas and goals who sometimes work at cross purposes. It's insisting that the reason American healthcare is bad is because the CEOs are all just evil megalomaniacs hitting the "deny care" button repeatedly, instead of understanding that our healthcare is incredibly complicated with a million interlocked parts that all feed into one another. It's insisting that a real progressive will never be elected because "they" won't let that happen, when there is zero evidence that those progressive candidates ever had any real support within the electorate.

It is - basically - the idea that bad things happen because Bad People are doing Bad Things, and the refusal to admit that sometimes bad things happen because of an incredibly complex web of causes and effects that can't be predicted or controlled.

And it's not like there's not any truth to it. Obviously healthcare and pharmaceutical companies put profits over human lives. Obviously billionaires and corporations interfere in politics. But ultimately most things are just really complicated, and anyone who's trying to sell you a fantasy that it's just the Bad People who are causing problems and all we need to do is get rid of them and let The Will of the People take over is either lying to you or is dangerously misinformed. Use your critical thinking, be a skeptic, and don't be blinded by people promising to sell you simple solutions that feel good.

[luxfuxxvii]

things that help me write in case anybody else hasnt found their process and wants a little inspiration:

clean room = clean mind = brain empty = BAD = writers block. have the perfect amount of messy in your room, but an organized writing space. for me, i associate a clean room with a clear mind. empty room, empty mind. if i have a clear mind, im probably thinking thoughts my therapist would be proud of, im also probably thinking about wellness and cleanliness and happy things and spiritual wellness and hmmm maybe i should do yoga. well guess what? writing is messy. writing is having bad thoughts, bad ideas. writing is thinking "how can i hurt my character the most?" or "how can i comfort my character after being hurt?". in order to figure that out you have to let it be chaotic. but EVERYTHING has a spot, okay? for me, i have a pile dedicated to clothes, all tossed into a reusable bag, with a few shirts artfully spilling out onto the floor. but other than that, my floor is relatively clean. you want chaotic, not crowded.

have a spot dedicated to writing. im not talking "this is the only place im allowed to write", im talking a writing shrine. all of my writing stuff is on my nightstand, this way i can write in bed or on the floor, whichever i deem my designated writing space for the day. my notebooks in the same spot. my bluetooth keyboard is also there. i have a cup for pens and highlighters. i have pages ripped out of notebooks filled with tips for revising. passive vs active voice. varying sentence structure. i have an old notebook i used for my creative writing class that i can go to for finding poetic devices. i have a blank sketchpad that ive been using to make little charts or timelines. the books i need for reference are all in my little spot. also thats where my snacks go (offerings to the gods, aka the evil tarantula in my brain making webs of LIES ((bad, bad headcanons)))

have a special writing thing. basically the equivalent of lucky socks or lucky charms or literally whatever, except its for writing. i have a shirt i specifically wear when i plan on writing. its literally just a cream white button up. i dont NEED to wear it in order to write, but on days where i know i can write but am still struggling, putting it on really helps. i struggle to write in special outfits because most of the time, if im wearing a cute outfit, i am performing. well writing isnt a performance. i am a scatterbrained rat. so its usually pajama bottoms and my writing shirt. booya.

water. idfc. idfc. water. water. drink it. chug an entire 20 oz in one go unless you think youll get sick. if youre not gonna get sick, get to chugging. "i always forget" cool me too. adhd sucks man. but i have POTS, so i have to drink 120 oz of water a day. the thing is, i NEVER remember its there. everyones always taking sips at a time and then forgetting they even own a water bottle. solution? drink the entire thing in one go. do it coward. its the only way. if drinking water gives you a stomach ache, i promise you, thats because youre dehydrated. you will get used to it. im sorry it hurts. but the more water you drink, the more it starts to go away. the headaches stop. suddenly you actually start to crave food, and it doesnt even hurt to eat it?????? what???? yeah man. water helps pretty much everything. i might make a separate post to talk about this actually.

find your medium. paper? keyboard? you do both, but for different things? for me, i like to write in notebooks. idk, it just works. i discovered this in my creative writing class. she had us use notebooks and i discovered that writing by hand really gets me in the flow. writing with a keyboard makes me want it to be perfect, and overall, i really struggle to read things on a computer. however, i do like using keyboards because the words get typed faster. problem is, when im using a keyboard on a hard day, my brain cannot keep up with my fingers, and so i stop typing to think of a word, and then im out of the flow. writing it by hand takes longer and gives me ample time to come up with sentences. also the cursor isnt blinking at me menacingly. but also, if ur a paper person, ONLY EVER WRITE IN PEN!!!! ITS LITERALLY A GODSEND!!!!!

some days, you just need to write different things. what i mean by this is there are days when i can absorb information and give instructions, and then there are days when i can follow the instructions. i say "im going to take notes on how to use passive vs active voice", and thats what i wrote for the day. other days, i look back at my notes and i say, "yes im going to put this into practice", and then i DO. writing is writing man. learn as you go. no matter what, youre writing. some days its a notes day. some days its a letter to your best friend. some days its a poem. some days you actually sit down and write the fucking shit you wanted to write (finally). also remember that you dont need to write the same amount of words every time, too. i wrote 18 pages by hand all in one day. the next day? i barely wrote 3. the day after that, i didnt write at all. THAT IS PERFECTLY ACCEPTABLE.

find your system. no im not talking about this writing routine im informing you of right now, im talking do you plot or do you have vibes? are you a very weird, confusing, and inconvenient mix of both? lol. me too. you CAN plot. you CAN just have vibes. but which one actually gets you to start writing? figure out which one you are. think on it rq, cuz it leads to the next one.

timelines can suck it. for me, if i figure out a consecutive timeline, my motivation goes out the fucking door. this is because i FUCKING HATE HATE HATE HATE time crunches. EVEN THOUGH IT'S NOT MY TIME CRUNCH????? ITS THE CHARACTERS?????? basically, for the first draft, i cannot have any concept of time in my story, otherwise i will feel trapped, like i HAVE to do it in the way i originally planned, and then I'll never write it. so how i solve this, is i get an idea. just one. one idea, for one scene. i write that idea down as a little summary (and i really mean little, guys) and add a couple notes to give it vague vibes (moonlight shining through branches, water droplets on skin, laughter, etc), and THEN i write that scene down from memory. this is because i primarily write based on vibes, even though in my head i know exactly how this scene is going to serve the plot, and where exactly this bad boy will fit in my plot. but i know i might change my mind later, so i dont write that down. i recommend doing this if you have adhd, because if youre only writing down ideas one right after the other, chances are, you are not elaborating on them enough for your future self to go back and fall in love with the little note you made. we are just too forgetful. so you write down one idea, add little notes on the vibes you want to incorporate in your idea, and then you go and write the scene. thats it. one at a time. if you come up with another idea as you go, write it at the top of the page where the title goes and pray to god it sticks in your brain when you find it again.

i hope this helps a little in a very adhd way? this is my process (its not really process, more like a rulebook). i hope it inspires you guys to find the things that work for you, or at least opens your mind to the more chaotic organization your brain might need. i know i really struggled with the advice that suggested i do things neurotypically???? like no thanks. nuh uh.

[naffeclipse]

Monster boyfriends... Monster boyfriends... Monster boyfriends....

I don't know whether you're comfortable with answering this question, and it's okay if you're not! But I sometimes wonder how the boys would cope after getting into a fight, argument or disagreement with MC. Mmm, angst.

Mmm, delicious angst. *chef's kiss*

Hawthorn has to take off afterward just to cool down. He catches a strong wind and sails for half the night over the thick woods of his home. In his mind, he's unraveling and weaving through the anguish of raising his voice and MC doing the same. It shouldn't have come to that. He should have handled it better, and now he fears the damage done. Does MC want him around anymore? Is it over? He wanted to apologize. He wanted to hold MC in his arms, but he was boiling and couldn't think past the argument—now he's frozen cold. He should have stayed. He shouldn't have said that. He wonders what the morning will bring. Can he return to MC, repentant, or will MC turn him away? He didn't mean for this to happen, but bad things don't care much for his input.

Grease is furious. He doesn't let MC walk away until a door is slapped in his face and MC screams at him to leave, and then he's talking off. He's tearing through the shadowy alleyways and destroying whatever he can get his hands on, clawing up cars, breaking glass windows, and shattering anything he can throw on the ground. Someone has to pay. It's someone's fault. It's not his and it's not MC's, but it's someone's. He has to put the blame somewhere other than a problem in a relationship—something he can't force or handle with his claws until it becomes shreds. He wants to see MC so badly but it makes him feral once more as he crushes dirt in his hands. The thought of returning to MC's house makes him physically ill, so once he's out of fuel, he stands there, broken pieces littered around him, staring down at what he might have done wrong.

Calmo is the type to sit and stew. He replays the fight over and over in his mind, noting logical inconsistencies MC made and relistening to the moments when his voicebox let out audio that was not true—so why did he say it? He is a machine. He is perfect. He cannot make mistakes and let problems grow into issues. But there's no self-diagnostics for relationships and he can't go out of the house to follow MC. MC stormed away. MC left. Good riddance. He doesn't mean that. He furls and unfurls his digits and tries to find the solution. An apology. A sincere expression of regret and an acknowledgment of wrongdoing. That's what a World Wide Web search provides as an answer, but Calmo does not feel like apologizing yet. His wires are still red-hot and his core whirls like a jet engine. This is a problem. How does he fix it?

[slutforpringles]

You do realise your part of the problem by giving attention to those posts and you give these organisations the clicks they want, and you send a ton of fans in their direction as well….

Look I do get where you're coming from, and I try wherever possible not to give them clicks (i.e. by using a webpage archive, engaging via socials rather than web traffic etc).

But also they're going to run stories like this about Daniel regardless, in which case I'd prefer to correct blatantly incorrect journalism than just leave it and have every F1 tiktoker and their mum use it for a reaction video. 🤷🏻‍♀️ It's not a perfect solution, I know, but sometimes watching the internet believe willful misinformation is more frustrating.