#there i fixed it

[rinny-rae]

Leave my slutty bisexual alone

[hometoursandotherstuff]

[whatwouldmickeydo]

Stiles wakes with a gasp, hand trembling at his throat.

A quick, bleary glance at the bedside clock tells him it’s just past 2 am.

He shudders, then breathes in deep, the remnants of whatever that dream was - no, nightmare - slowly beginning to dissipate.

There’s a sleepy murmur from beside him, and he feels a warm hand come up to grasp his arm as if in question.

The sleep warm body next to him brings waves of relief and comfort, and he can feel himself calming down enough to return to sleep.

“Had the weirdest fucking nightmare, man. Dreamt that you were set on fire in front of Eli and like, burned to death,” he murmurs into the dark, eyelids growing heavy again.

“Good thing it was just a nightmare then,” he hears just before he falls back to sleep.

[fandom-trash-goblin]

ao3 dont hurt me no more baby please. no.

[junkokiu]

"What am I to you ? "My most beloved- ✨

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~ Please, do not edit or repost my art ~

[theangrykimchi]

✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵

But touch my tears with your lips

Touch my world with your fingertips

And we can have forever

And we can love forever

Forever is our today

✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵✵

[wynnyfryd]

(part 1) angst resolution as promised

Steve tugs Eddie from the bench by his wrist and guides him along a dirt path, beyond the treeline into a secluded clearing deeper in the woods. The nature trail he takes his class out to every Friday when the weather’s nice. He lets go of Eddie’s arm and turns to face him, fighting back nausea as he looks at him head on.

“Explain. Please.”

Eddie crumples like paper, bursts into tears and launches himself at Steve, wrapping his arms tight around his middle and spilling hot tears into his shirt. “I don’t wanna break up,” he mumbles pitifully into the damp fabric.

Steve hugs him back, a strong circle around shaking shoulders. Kisses Eddie’s hair. Tuts softly, voice gentle. “Then why the hell are you trying to, baby?”

“I just— you’re so- you’re so good with all the kids in your class, and I see how much you love them, and we’re getting older, and I— and…”

Eddie chokes on another sob, and Steve chews his lip, waits for Eddie to collect himself. Wonders what loving his job or finding his first gray hair have to do with getting dumped.

“I know you want six nuggets, Stevie,” Eddie sniffs when he’s all cried out. “And I can’t give them to you, which just, um. Just makes me really fucking sad all the time lately.”

Oh. “Oh, baby, no, that’s—”

Eddie laughs through his tears, short and sharp and incredulous. “Don’t tell me ‘that’s okay,’ you insufferably selfless bastard.”

He wipes his eyes and shoves lightly at Steve’s chest then reels him right back in, digging his nails into Steve’s back, somber again when he whispers hoarse confessions into the crook of his neck.

“You deserve to have the things you want in life. I hate the thought that you might grow to resent me because I held you back from getting what you wanted.”

“Eddie,” Steve sighs. “Honey, look at me.”

Eddie lifts his head to meet Steve’s gaze, his eyes shining with a fresh wave of tears.

“I have everything I want,” Steve assures him. It’s true. He does want kids — some day, hypothetically, sure. But if it means giving Eddie up?

Eddie looks like he doesn’t believe him. “Sure,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes. “For now.”

Steve cradles Eddie’s face between his hands. “No,” he promises. “Forever.”

[ghoulymadge]

Red Dead Redemption: Callbacks 1/?

[shiiko529]

"you're pretty annoying."

[fruitcontent]

An alternate, better, universe in which Lemon gets his bubble milk tea instead of the Fiji water & drinks the whole thing in one go & they lose the case & they split up to track Ladybug down & Ladybug has no chance to put sedatives in Lemon’s drink & Lemon realizes the Prince is the Diesel (he’s never wrong, is he?) and kills her & when Tangerine punches his way back on the train, they reunite & they survive the attack of the White Death and the train crash too because together they’re indestructible & they get to their Kyoto safe house shaken and dirty and perplexed but relatively fine & maybe Lemon has a nightmare about a neck wound and complete, utter despair that night, but it’s all okay ‘cause when he jerks awake, Tangerine’s right there, bruised knuckles and messy curls and St. Christopher pendant, sleeping in his arms & they fly back to London the next morning, exactly as planned.

[lumberjackloverboy-moved]

✅ tortured by Voices

✅ cursed by god

✅ small waist fat!

✅ criminal record

✅ died once

Diagnosis: babygirl

[blackbirdofasgard]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Loki (TV 2021), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Loki/Mobius M. Mobius, Casey & O.B. | Ouroboros (Loki TV), Hunter B-15 & Mobius M. Mobius Characters: O.B. | Ouroboros (Loki TV), Casey (Loki TV), Hunter B-15 (Marvel), Mobius M. Mobius, Loki (Marvel), Sylvie (Mentioned) Additional Tags: B-15 goes by Verity, various POV, Canon Compliant, Post-Season/Series 02, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Rescue, fictional technobabble, the power of love and friendship and deus ex machina will get Loki out of that tree so help me, Don't Examine This Too Closely, details not important, Mobius M. Mobius Needs a Hug, Loki Needs a Hug (Marvel), they both just need each other okay, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Reunions, Crying, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Getting Together Series: Part 5 of Lokius Fluffuary 2024 Summary:

O.B.'s frown became more pensive as he tried to think of a solution. As far as he knew, there was nothing in existence yet that could solve this problem, but...There had to be something they could do to free Loki! Maybe then, O.B. could help make Mobius happy again by reuniting him with Loki. Maybe both of them would even come back to the TVA! O.B. missed them; they'd both changed his life! Besides, everything was just a little more interesting when Loki and Mobius—

And then, a spark.

O.B.'s expression cleared as gears began to turn in his head and plans began to formulate.

Mobius...That gave O.B. an idea...

As good as the new and improved TVA is, Loki's friends are unwilling to forget him and leave him behind. They formulate a plan to free him. O.B. and Casey build a new invention, Verity retrieves Mobius from the timeline, and then together they go to Loki and carry out their rescue mission.

[tailorvizsla]

Here I fixed it y’all:

Paz lay face down on the ground for a long time, wondering if he was doomed to die by suffocation by his own damn jet pack. The sharp pain had long since faded to a dull ache. Just as he felt like he was ready to help move things along, he heard voices.

Voices speaking Mando’a. He heard a gasp.

“ - Nevarro al’verde,” a woman’s voice said.

Someone knelt next to him and pulled his cowl down. Then two ice-cold fingers found his pulse. His body twitched involuntarily.

“He’s alive!” she called out.

A leather bag thudded onto the ground in front of him. He recognized the concentrated bacta. A black gloved hand started withdrawing vials and inserting them into a hypo spray.

“Watch the perimeter,” she said. “I’ll get him stable enough to move. Then we can treat him aboard one of the ships.”

A man’s voice answered in the affirmative as the woman worked. Paz felt the first injection. It burned worse than his stab wounds and he gasped involuntarily.

“It’s alright, al’verde,” the woman’s voice said soothingly. “You’ll have to reschedule your trip to the Manda for another day.”

A couple more injections. His skin sizzled as it was forcefully healed and cauterized from the inside out. Even though the concentrated bacta numbed the pain from his wounds, it didn’t numb the pain of it coursing through him. He grit his teeth and closed his eyes and groaned. It was literally frying the nerves at the surface to make it so he could function.

“It’ll burn for a little longer,” the woman said in that same gentle tone. “Just breathe and we’ll have you home in no time.”

He flinched when he heard the sound of tape being ripped off the roll. It didn’t sound like medical tape. It actually sounded like the tape he used to hold his ship together. Fuck, this shit was going to hurt worse coming back off.

The woman’s hands shook as she pinched his wounds shut and applied the tape to the still open wounds. At least he was no longer bleeding, and he would be stable until they could get him to an actual doctor. She wrapped around the tape tightly to keep it from coming back off.

“You’ll be home soon,” she repeated, though he suspected that she was saying it more to herself than him. “You’ll get to see your boy again. What’s his name?”

He slurred Ragnar’s name through his dry, chapped lips. It was unintelligible, but she made the appropriate noises of understanding.

“I saw him practicing with some of the other little ones,” she said. “He will be a fine warrior one day.”

He grunted in agreement.

She stabbed him again with even more bacta. This time, it itched. Terribly. It felt like his muscles itched on the inside and his fingers twitched. But at least the pain disappeared completely, leaving him woozy and light-headed. She had given him something really good for the pain.

“We haven’t got much time,” the woman said, “We have to get out of here. We are going to carry you out, but we are going to need to leave your jet pack and weapon behind, alright?”

He was ecstatic that he had been found. The thought of seeing his son again made tears pool up in his eyes. They fell against the inside of his bucket as the woman removed his jet pack.

Then they turned him over. The two Nite Owls then heaved him up. Paz grunted as the tape pulled, but it thankfully held. He swayed as the ground rocked under his unsteady feet. Two pairs of arms wrapped around him as they hurried down the hallways. He was delirious but soon he could smell fresh air. Freedom. Sunlight. He turned to look at the one who had saved his life.

Pretty. She was so pretty. Just as she was reaching to out her bucket back on, he spoke, his common sense long gone out the window from the pain killers.

“Hi,” he said giddily. “I’m Paz.”

She gave him a quirk of her lips before putting her helmet on.

“Hi, Paz,” she responded. “Hold on tight.”

He squeezed around their torsos, making them grunt. Oops.

“You’re really pretty,” he said, and the man to his side laughed. The woman sighed and shook her head.

“Let’s get you home so you can sleep this off,” she said. Paz giggled as they activated their jet packs and his stomach lurched.

[omgscrumptiousllamasuit-blog]

Be My King (Till Death Do Us Part, Chris King x Reader fic)

Description: A sweet lil ficlet on how Chris’s route should have gone in TDDUP. For everyone who dreams about finding a king and treating him well.

By the way, this fic (and Till Death do Us Part) ARE ONLY FOR PEOPLE AGED 18 AND OVER. IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 OR A MINOR IN YOUR COUNTRY-DO NOT READ.

I’ve written this from a female’s perspective but you’re free to insert your pronouns and reimagine the scene from your preferred gender’s perspective. This is my first explicit fic so you’ve been warned. Hehe.

—-- The Sun’s rays illuminate your room as you blink sleepily. The morning air feels cold on your skin, making you realise that Chris isn’t next to you. If he had been, you’d have felt his warm arms wrapped around you in a bear hug. That’s how the both of you drifted off to sleep after last night’s intense lovemaking session. You turn over. True to your suspicions, the spot next to you is empty. Your graze drifts to the door, where his track suit usually hangs. It was gone. You suppose that Chris is out on his daily morning run.

A smile tugs at your lips as you stretch languidly on the bed and recall the previous night’s events. Your pussy is sore, but pleasantly so. You recall your gasps and moans as he delicatedly tongued your cunt, and his delight as you squirted onto his face. Your fingers play  with your moistening folds as you recall how you rode the waves of ecstasy on his magnificent cock. 

You tilt your head as you wonder how he’s able to exercise even after last night. It’s due to his strength and determination, no doubt. Those qualities will bring him far one day, you think to yourself.

Eventually, you can no longer ignore your gnawing stomach. You pad over to your wardrobe and select an outfit for the day. After a warm shower, you head down to the kitchen for breakfast. While you’d love to keep Chris’s scent and fluids on you for as long as possible, you have to work later and it simply wouldn’t do to turn up smelling of sex.

You head downstairs and find a covered plate waiting for you on the tabletop. You uncover it to reveal freshly-scrambled eggs and fluffy hash browns…that have turned ice-cold. A small matter, you chuckle to yourself as you microwave the meal. Once you’ve done so, you devour the food. It is delicious, as is the cup of freshly-squeezed orange juice that he’d prepared.

You wash your plate and cutlery. You return them to their proper place, and then your heart leaps to your throat. You realise that apart from two pathetic packets of ramen, the pantry is completely empty. You fervently pray that Chris somehow manages to close a sale today.; you need that commission if you want to buy next week’s groceries. 

Just then, you hear him entering the house. “Good morning,” he calls out, poking his head around the kitchen door. He spies your empty plate and shoots you a satisfied grin.

“Your cooking was sublime,” you assure him, enjoying his bashful expression. “The food went cold, but I could reheat it so don’t worry.”

“Thank you, dear,” he replies. “I have something for you,” he adds shyly as he holds out a flower. “I picked it from the ground, especially for you.”

“Oh-” you are at a loss for words. A daffodil - your favourite! “Thank you so much, sweetie,” you reply, dropping a quick kiss on his lips. He snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you in, running his tongue along your lips. You stand contentedly for a few moments and savour the kiss, running your hands through his hair. You then push gently on his chest. “Honey, we have to go to work soon,” you giggle against his lips. He immediately lets go and steps back, looking slightly sheepish.

“Did you gel your hair? I could feel it just now,” you ask. “Yup!” Chris replies. “They say that if you gel your hair back, it improves your confidence,” he muses, giving you a sidelong look. You tap a finger against your chin. "That makes sense," you ponder. "If you don't subconsciously 'hide' your face behind your hair, you'll come across as more confident. So cute of you to try it out though," you chuckle. Your voice then takes on a sombre note. “You have plenty to be confident about anyway,” you tell him. “You just don’t realise your true worth.”

You gaze at each other for a few seconds, then something pops into your mind.

“Oh!” You hold a finger up. “I almost forgot! I have a gift waiting upstairs for you. Follow me.”

Chris arches an eyebrow. “A gift like last night, eh?” he answers huskily and curves his lips into a devious smirk.

You stomp your foot playfully. “Honey, just follow me. It’s a work-related gift!”

“Ah.” Chris deflates slightly but still trudges up the stairs, his massive strides nearly overtaking your excited hops. Nevertheless, you beat him to the bedroom door and head straight to a locked drawer. “Ta-daaaa!” You proudly brandish a brand new tailor-made suit. Chris’s eyes widen. “T-that’s-” he stutters.

“I took your measurements to the tailor. You’ll look positively dapper in this suit,” you gush, stroking his arm. “You have such an amazing figure, and this suit will show it off really well at work." You’d spent a hefty portion of last month’s paycheck on this, but it was worth it to see his radiant smile.

Chris groans. “Sweetie…I don’t think that’s going to impress my colleagues. They already have such a bad opinion of me.”

Your eyes narrow.  “Now, you look here, mister,” you start, poking a finger in his chest. “Sure, you’re not perfect. You do have things to improve on…but none of us are perfect. It’s true that a  salesman needs the gift of the gab. That’s something you can achieve with practice, a nurturing environment and a growth mindset.”

You take a deep breath. “ We just have to keep going, no matter what. Even if your current workplace doesn’t appreciate your enthusiasm and skills, you’ll find one that will. Aaaaand…that’s the end of my TED talk,” you  finish, spying the clock. “Goodness me! You should get going!”

“Ah-yes!” Chris’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. “I need to change!”

You chuckle. “I love you, baby,” you coo, blowing a kiss at him and leaving him to change. —

After Chris leaves, you change into your scrubs and head to the hospital. Time flies and before you know it, you are on your way back home. Strangely, Chris’s car is already in the driveway. Your eyes narrow slightly as you see another car. Aria’s here.You stride into the house and find the two of them together, chatting and laughing.

You smile wanly. “Hi, Aria.” You massage your temples. “I’ve got a headache, so I’ll just rest upstairs,” you explain, heading up the stairs.

Once you reach the master bedroom, you flop onto your bed and play idly with your hair. The sounds of laughter waft up to the bedroom as you stare at the ceiling.  You’re not rude to Aria, of course not - you have to be polite for Chris’s sake. You’re grateful that Aria helped to pay for the house and you know that Aria is one of the few support figures in Chris’s life. You’d never want to isolate him from his loved ones. 

At the same time…Aria is odd. You wonder if you’re imagining things, but the way she looks at him and touches him…a tad sultry, a tad inviting.

In addition, you’ve heard…rumours about Aria’s friends. Oh, you know that she’s a well-connected attorney. Her friends are moneyed and apparently, some of that money comes from...illicit activities like trafficking. If those rumours are true, you don’t want to associate with people of her ilk. If only Chris didn’t depend on Aria so much!

Chris needs more friends, you conclude. They don't even need to be your friends either. Maybe he could join a boxing club, or a public speaking club. Perhaps with a better social life and more activities, Chris would have a better support system and spend less time around his deadbeat parents, Aria, and her undesirable friends. You wonder about inviting your parents over to stay someday. Maybe Chris would like that.

As you refocus, you realise that you can no longer hear Aria’s voice. Chris’s voice is audible, but muffled. You realise that he’s talking on the phone to someone and your ears perk up. It couldn’t be someone from his workplace, could it? They never call him after work, and he did end early today…

Curiosity overcomes you and you head downstairs. Chris stands like a lost child, holding his phone loosely. The call had ended a few moments prior. “Honey…” his face falls. “I’ve been fired again.” Oh Gods no. You gape at him, slack-jawed. The bills are due next week and you’re stretching your paycheck as far as you can. Why did you buy that suit for him? 

You resist the urge to clutch at your hair and scream. Enough, you tell yourself firmly. Chris needs you.

“Give me a hug, baby,” you murmur as you wrap your arms around him.  You nuzzle his chest, and then it’s like a dam breaking. He dissolves into sobs, clutching at your shirt like a drowning boy

“I…I tried so hard,” he says in between sobs. “W-what’s wrong with me? Why does everyone h-hate me? I only w-want to do my best!” “Oh, honey,” you coo, stroking his hair. “Plenty of people have been fired before. I’ve been fired before. It’s almost like a rite of passage.” A lump rises in your throat as the terrible memories flood your mind. You give yourself a shake and grip him tightly. “It hurts, it really does. All of a sudden, a lifeline’s been yanked from you. The future seems like an abyss. You wonder what to do next. You wonder if your ex-boss will ruin your future prospects. You feel…stained.” You feel him tremble in your arms before you cup his face and gaze into his eyes. “But there are jobs out there. Jobs come and go. Even if you get fired again and again, it’s not always you. Sometimes, it’s a phase. Sometimes, each bad experience makes you more vulnerable to the next bully...” You stare at him and stroke his arms. “But I don’t want to enable you.  We need to take responsibility for our actions. Alright? You’re not always in the right either. You need to take a good, hard look at yourself and see what you’ve been doing wrong. We all need to do this every now and then. But you can do that later. You need to heal now. One step at a time.”

Chris chokes on his tears. “I-I’m sorry for burdening you like this…” “You are not a burden,” you tell him. “We’re a team. We’ll get through this together.”

Chris tries to smile bravely through his tears. “I could-hic-ask Aria for help.” “...Yes, you could,” you respond, feeling a twinge of annoyance . “Or I could just work some more shifts in the meantime. You don’t need her for everything, you know.”

Chris looks like a lost puppy. “I just want the both of you to be friends..” he trails off. You brush his hair from his face. “Of course I get along with her. She comes over for dinner, right? But never mind that. Focus on healing yourself first. Baby steps.”

Chris grips you tightly as you steer him up the stairs and to your master bedroom. As he flops onto the bed, you strip nude and join him. You nestle yourself into the crook of his arm, pressing your breasts against his chest. You want to comfort him however he likes…if he is in the mood.

He says nothing, although he absentmindedly plays with your nipples and squeezes them. Your stomach growls once again. You’re painfully aware that it’s dinnertime and instant ramen is your last meal for the foreseeable future, but you talk to keep the fear at bay.

“Y’know, once you’ve rested a little, you should take a cooking course. Or even sign up as a personal trainer,” you suggest. “You’re good at these things. Maybe become a boxing coach?”

“...I’ll think about it,” Chris says and you understand. He needs time to think - and sometimes, it’s far easier to continue thinking “what-if” than to make the actual leap and risk failure.

He can’t take too long to jump, or he’ll get left behind. But you’ll neverlet him get left behind. “Why did you buy that suit for me, huh?” Chris smiles ruefully at you. “Such a waste of money.”

You snort and ignore the jolt of despair in your stomach. “Nonsense. You’ll need it for interviews. That magic suit will make everyone hire you in a jiffy! Before you know it, you’ll be a celebrity chef at some overpriced hotel. Or a personal trainer to a fat old billionaire. Or even a boxing star.”

You roll away from him and mock-gag. “Then you’ll be a part of the nouveau riche. Gross.” Chris tickles you in response. As you giggle and swat at him, he grabs your wrists and pins you down on the bed. “I’ll show you gross,” he breathes as he captures your lips in an earth-shattering kiss. 

As you eagerly yield, as he ties you up and you come undone, you feel full of love and a little less scared.

Ending Comments: There ya go! Not my best work, because I was so excited and I just wanted to get these thoughts off my chest. I’m not used to writing stories in present tense and from the reader’s perspective so there may be some slip-ups from time to time (despite my proof-reading efforts…)

I would totally marry a guy like Chris. Such a sweetie pie who cooks for you, picks flowers for you and tells you that he loves you. When a guy does that in the real world, he may or may not be covering some misdeeds. In Chris’s case, it’s totally genuine and it’s so…pure. Who wouldn’t want that?! 

On a sombre note - I know how it feels to endure abuse for many years and respond by trying to be as gentle and sweet as possible, while dealing with pent-up rage. So I totally get how he feels.

[alchemisoul]

Dude...Jesus...Sun of God, no?

Dude...Y'all moved the Sabbath from Saturday to Sunday!

Dude...That Obelisk was imported all the way from Egypt!

Dude...In 1817, circular stones were set to mark the tip of the obelisk's shadow at noon...

...as the sun entered each of the signs of the zodiac...

...making the obelisk a gigantic sundial's gnomon!