#well enough to go to work i suppose 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

[yanderes-galore]

If you're comfortable, could I request a romantic concept for Adam from Hazbin Hotel?

Here you go... Sorry if the execution wasn't great. I wasn't sure what direction to take him? Writer's block also hit midway through 😮‍💨.

Yandere! Adam Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Jealousy, Crude behavior, Trauma, Fear of abandonment, Isolation, Threats, Adam breaks, Forced relationship.

Adam, despite being intolerable, has pretty decent reasons for being a yandere.

He's known as the first man yet he has had two wives, who were made specifically for him, seduced away from him by some demon.

Nowadays he just comes off as an arrogant misogynistic angel who tends to flirt around and take what he can get

Essentially... not the best person.

Ironically for being someone in heaven... He's quite the piece of work.

I can see an obsession starting over a new angel arriving in Heaven.

Someone he wants to charm enough to entertain him like most new souls.

Adam definitely comes across as an insufferable yandere.

His obsession is definitely not charmed or interested.

He just comes off as hard to deal with….

Apparently his charm works on some angels... Not you.

Let's be honest, he probably enjoys the challenge.

Adam doesn't seem like he'd give up trying to court his obsession easily.

He definitely starts off obsessed with the idea of just... making you accept his presence?

After all, he's the first man.

Don't you think you should give him more respect?

He's definitely a man/angel that's easier to hate than love.

His behavior starts off as arrogant and entitled... However, I don't think he's always that way.

Don't get me wrong, man's an asshole.

Yet he's also a man quite used to any long-term relationships he has being stolen from him.

To him he thinks just a physical relationship with you will be enough to satisfy his desires.

Yet the longer he chases you...

He comes to the unnerving conclusion that he wants more than that...

But you won't give it to him... Not willingly.

Adam is a prideful man.

He doesn't want to beg for things.

He tends to expect what he wants to be served to him.

However, when it comes to you... Someone he soon realizes he needs...

Perhaps there's some vulnerability in him that makes him beg a bit.

Adam is a yandere who is hard to like... yet I also can see why he'd turn to such a form of love in the first place.

Well... desire is the better term....

Does that mean anyone should condone his actions, that they should excuse him?

NO.

He is indeed a broken man who is trying to hide how vulnerable he actually is.

Yet once he's introduced to you, a new form of temptation... a chance to love...

Is he really supposed to pass that up?

Adam's behavior is a contradiction.

He keeps driving you away with his behavior, when all he wants is to try and court you.

He isn't good at it.

To him he thinks one night of passion will make you adore him.

Instead you're disgusted... a prude....

Adam works hard to try and at least befriend you.

Yet it's really hard to see past his arrogance.

Part of him no doubt feels like he's meant to own you in a way.

But another part of him does yearn for what he had before.

He tries his best to convince you to see him as a guide.

He wants to help you settle into Heaven... the whole time he's flirting and making crude comments.

He's hard to get along with but maybe you will eventually.

Adam's no doubt possessive and easily jealous, feeling entitled to your attention.

Oh... So other angels get your attention... but not him?

He's not violent towards other angels since he knows that will bring trouble.

I can see him hovering around you though, trying to use his presence to intimidate others.

When you accuse him of isolating you, he plays dumb.

Why would you think he'd do such a thing, hm?

This is Heaven, sweetheart....

You can have your friends.

Yet they'll know to keep their distance with him watching them like a hawk.

Another side of yandere Adam is the vulnerable side he tries to hide.

This side yearns for your touch and affection...

He'll do anything for it.

He'll beg to you in private if he has to.

Adam does have a big ego... although it appears his craving for companionship tends to outweigh it.

Only when it comes to you.

There's a side to Adam he doesn't like acknowledging.

It's the side that yearns to treat you like a proper lover, not a fling or pet.

For a supposed angel, Adam can come off as demonic.

In a way he does respect his obsession.

But he doesn't like to admit it.

Adam is a yandere more complicated than you think.

If he ever managed to drag you into his grasp, he isn't letting go.

Due to Heaven's rules, it's not like Adam can kidnap you.

He's still meant to be good.

Although, the second he wins you over, probably after he breaks and gets all pathetic...

He refuses to lose you like he lost his past relationships.

You can't be seduced if he prevents that from happening by keeping you by his side.

If you allow him to get close, he'll take everything you have to offer.

Ironically, Adam is a greedy man.

His biggest fear is most likely being alone, being unacknowledged, being hurt....

He tries to cope with such insecurities by manipulating you.

He attempts to make you only rely on him, saying he'll take care of you.

In reality, he needs you to himself.

He can't handle the idea of losing another one.

Flings only do so much for him.

He needs something more.

He plans to get what he wants... what he craves... from you one way or another...

Even if he has to force it.

Adam will find a way to cheat the system, to be a bit bad and get away with it.

He'll isolate you, manipulating you into trusting only him.

He's obviously the best angel there is.

He may act intimidating and egotistical.

Deep down though... and he's actually a man tired of being hurt.

He needs you... At this point he feels he has to beg for you in order to feel good again... His pride shatters at your neglect...

Perhaps you can use that to your advantage to keep him under control?

[secretofblue]

29 • 05 • 25 11:55 pm

Wednesday recap 🍃

(Yesterday!) I've been a little bit lazy with my recaps, but before more time goes by like last week here i go

So eventough practices ended uni proyects and exams hasnt 😮‍💨 so yesterday i had the oral presentation of the case of one of the patients i had the opportunity to work with when i was still in the hospital's rotation

Honestly i was a little bit worried about this presentation because eventough i have been doing well with the test of this subject, getting a good note on my presentation means that i don't have to super worry about my grade on the final

I worked on this presentation for probably half of the semester, it had to be short, under 10 mins 😭 (i always joke with my friends that on the first semesters of the career our struggle was to make our presentations last 30 mins or more depending the subject and the teacher, but now it's all the other way, that and the fact that i'm terrible at summarizing), it also had to be clear and concise.

In the presentation i had to talk about the clinical background of the patient: previous diseases, surgeries, transfutions, etc? what happened? how many days were them hospitaliced in the ICU? what is their diagnosis? and the one of the rehabilitation area? how does all of their pathophysiologies corelate? what was their state the day i evaluated them at the hospital? Based on that, would i do an intervention? If so, what would i do as it's treatment? All of this clearly scientifically referented in APA 7°Ed™ hshs

And still my biggest struggle once i finished compiling the information was the time 😀

They sent us the night before the order in which we would be presenting, my turn wasn't until 1:30 pm so i relaxed a little bit because i still had the morning to rehearse. I decided to arrive early in the morning at uni so i didn't have to worry for the time later, i hided on one of the empty aisles of the uni so i could rehearse out loud, always with my chronometer in hand.

Oh, we also had to dress formal for it, so i assaulted my mom's closet for it bc i don't have none of that. But there i was heels and everything

For the expo, we entered one by one and our only audience were the Dra. and the four professors (all of them physios) who teach us and acompany us in the practices. As i said, i was supposed to enter at 1:30 but for some setbacks i ended up entering until 4 pm 💀

I don't know why my leg started trembling like crazy in the middle of my presentation i just hope none of the teachers noticed it 😭, but other than that i think i controlled my nervous pretty well

I didn't get to finish on time, the alarm went off when i still have left one slide :( but i guess the teachers let it pass. At the end of the presentation they only asked me about two things in my treatment and i tried to justify it the best i could but idk, i sincerely don't expect a perfect grade but i think i didn't do it that bad :) honestly i'm satisfied with the way i did it

With that, there just left the final test which is in two weeks (a compilation of everything i learned in the career) so i have a s* ton to study

The way back home was entertaining to say the least, at the bus station the sir who was in line in front of me asked me something and that lead to a conversation that ended until i arrived to my stop an hour and a half later, now i know the story of his life 😃

Back at home, my puppy and i went on our walk and then to the gym with my sister, when we left it was raining hard but we didn't had an umbrella, not even our hoodies so we get wet on our way home luckily none of us catch a cold

And well, once again i think this update turned long enough so i will end it here

If someone reached this far, thank you so much for reading this mess ֶָ֢ Good night everyone, rest well! ✨

[fandomfluffandfuck]

I've had this in my head for like, years, just making itself known every once in a while. Pre-serum Steve and Bucky.

I've seen a lot of that, but they usually write or draw pre-serum Steve being the bottom as if that feisty, asthmatic twig isn't stubborn enough to top. (I prefer top Steve if you couldn't tell)

- ✨️ anon

Yes! Yes! I love me some small feisty top and/or small feisty dom Steve!! I completely agree there needs to be more, I've seen plenty of both myself but I can always get on board with more porn, lmao.

Anyway... this was supposed to just be top pre-serum Steve, set pre-war, but, uh... I ended up blacking out and writing dom pre-serum Steve instead. Also. This ended up being human furniture kink/bondage/edging? So... I don't know how we got here 💀 but please do read it if you're interested because 😮‍💨😮‍💨

It's been a long fucking time since Steve's felt this easy and loose. He's got nothing to do today. It's a good, quiet Saturday and there's no rattle in his chest thanks to the early warm weather that isn't hot and humid enough to trigger his asthma like what tends to happen in the height of Brooklyn summers. Even better, his joints don't really even hurt today 'cause he hasn't done so much walking, cooking, or cleaning. The apartment is neat and tidy around him already. There are no sheets or clothes to launder. Last night, he even was able to steal an hour or so in their communal bathrooms for a mostly warm bath seeing as all the other tenants were out for their Friday night dancing, drinking, or whatever else they do to let off steam that's cheap.

It's a good day.

Light pouring in from their open windows along with the sounds of Brooklyn below their fire escape, the faint murmurs of neighbors through recklessly narrow walls, and the flicking of a thin newspaper with every page he turns. There's also, of course, the noise of his rasping inhales and exhales, accompanied by a slurp here and there of steaming, watered-down coffee from one of their good mugs. Steve can't handle too much caffeine, besides, he'd rather leave the bulk of their scrounged-up coffee grounds for Bucky. He's the one tumbling out of bed in the morning before it's light and usually coming home well after it's dark. And--

Oh, yeah.

That's definitely part of why he's relaxed. Not the coffee, not the clean apartment, not the newspaper (which, really, has nothing he'd like to think too hard about written across its pages, otherwise he's going to ruin his own casual calm), but Bucky.

Bucky is here, too. Just out of sight. But it's alright because Steve can hear--even with one ear that doesn't work so good--the soft, even-yet-ragged-edged breaths of Bucky.

Bucky is keeping him company, not by running his motor mouth about the sci-fi book he's most recently borrowed or talking about his plans for Saturday night, but by keeping quiet and keeping Steve comfortable.

Bucky is being very good and, really, that's the best part of Steve's Saturday afternoon.

Bucky is so good for him beneath his heels. He's still and resilient underneath Steve's feet crossed at the ankle. Just breathing even though Steve knows that he wants to whine and shake and plaster himself against Steve as he usually does when they do things like this. He's not doing any of that, though, because Steve told him sternly not to. Not if he wants to cum today.

He's to be still--as motionless as a piece of furniture. Right now, he's being a very obedient footstool. Earlier, when Steve first made himself a cup of coffee, Steve was considering making him into a pretty coffee table. But, if he did that, then he would miss out on the simple pleasure of feeling each and every subdued tremble of Bucky's body beneath him. Half quivering with unreleased need, just aching to be touched and made to cum, and half quivering with the strain of holding himself perfectly still.

Stillness is a challenge because, well, they've been at this for some time, sensual, easy, clear-headed relaxation for Steve and a syrupy, hot, spaced-out zone for Bucky. That, and, Steve hasn't been easy on him.

First, this morning, after waking entangled in Bucky's arms, Steve used his morning wood against him by stroking him until Bucky was squirming aimlessly against the pleasure and making little sounds in his sleep at how nice his dreams had become. Like that, warm and cuddled together, Steve made sure to go slow and loose with just enough stimulation to make his cock drip sticky, wet smears of pre-cum all across the smooth, flat muscle of his lower belly without rousing him to the real world but still good enough to leave him twitching and making all these precious, eat-me-up whimpers in his sleep.

Then, when he did wake up with a shocked, possessed gasp of sudden pleasure, Steve slithered down underneath their thread-bare blankets to breathe in the hot, humid, heady musk of Bucky's arousal, swallowing him down as much as he could. Sucking him and sucking him and sucking him until he was dizzy and he'd already had to squeeze his fist around the base of Bucky's cock twice. Bucky didn't get to cum this morning, leaving his cock angry and his balls heavy and swollen but drawn up, convinced they'd be allowed to cum sooner rather than later. Cute. Bucky didn't cum. But, Steve did. He rutted against Bucky's aching, weeping, red-hot cock until he spilled between their bodies. After he was finished dragging out the last smoldering coals of pleasure, he smeared the mess he made into Bucky's skin just because. Just because he can. He wants Bucky to smell like sex. He wants Bucky to not be able to twitch without the scent wafting into his nose and being sucked deep, down into his lungs, reminding him of what filth they've done.

After that, Bucky made them both breakfast. No clothes allowed. His reward for making them a good meal? Another almost-orgasm from Steve. This time, his pleasure and denial came from humping against Steve's leg after he choked down his serving of food without tasting it. He was much too interested in getting four of Steve's fingers in his mouth--shoved down his throat until his eyes watered and his own drool smeared onto his cute cleft chin from choking--after being hand-fed, kneeling on the floor between Steve's lithe, spread thighs. He had to let himself go, be dumb and sweet enough to hump Steve's leg like a dog, his face burning with humiliation and pleasure, mouth hanging open, but be well-trained enough to stop when Steve said stop, reading the signs of his approaching orgasm across his face like an open book. Steve (lightly) kicked him in the chest just to make sure he wouldn't cum--pushing him back from kneeling to spread out on their floor, naked and so hard that Steve could watch, standing, towering, over him as his cock twitched and pulsed in time with his pounding heart. Bucky whimpering the entire time like the kicked puppy he is.

gif by @/zanephillips

Lunch was held in a similar affair except for Bucky kneeling next to Steve on the couch in the living room, not at the rickety dining table with two mismatched wooden dining chairs. That, and, Bucky didn't cook lunch. He was too spacy for Steve to even let him try. So, Steve heated up some leftovers from the other night and brought them to Bucky to, again, feed him and then deny him. He was really surprised Bucky survived that because, between breakfast and lunch, Steve had been alternating between drawing Bucky, demanding he hold various different poses for him, and jerking Bucky off until he came right, right to the edge. Then. He stopped and went back to drawing. At some point, Bucky started crying. His eyes were all big and wet and innocent, his soft, pink mouth quivering, silently begging for mercy while his cock wept just as urgently from between his legs, curved up against his tummy and so fucking hard it had to hurt. His expression, raw and desperate, looks pretty damn good taking up a whole five pages of Steve's sketchbook--he wanted to get it from every angle he could and track the progression of it as Bucky cried himself out, shaky and needy but also not willing to break the scene when he knows if he waits like Steve wants, it's always so much better--but that look was much more incredible etched across Bucky's face in real life. Nothing will compare to that. Pencil on paper could never crumble like Bucky can when he's in the throes of submission.

With lunch finished, that's when Bucky's job to be a footstool began. To prep him, Steve prepped him. He worked three artist's fingers into his tight little hole with thick Vaseline--neither of them will admit it, but just the smell of it gets them both more than a little hot, it's, just, fucking trained response at this point--to stretch him out for their biggest, heaviest dildo. They don't have many. And the way Bucky's gotten then-? God, Steve doesn't wanna know who he sweet-talked or what part of town he had to go to. They just have them. And Steve, by God, will use them. He'll stuff one into Bucky that takes effort to keep inside, making him clench like a vice around it so it won't slip out--making him all full and keeping him aware of it. Then, with that inside him, Steve used his leather belt to tie Bucky's legs together, clamping his thighs shut just above the knee. He doesn't want to get away, all the moaning and ragged panting and jerky, needy squirming says that clear as day, same with his red-almost-purple, severely erect cock, but he surely won't be able to now. He won't be able to crawl. He won't be able to not feel his heavy, pent-up balls between his legs. he won't be able to do anything but stay nice and still while clenching hard on his nice, fat toy. He won't be able to see, either, since Steve took a clean rage and blindfolded him. He gagged him, too. Just because. Furniture can't see. Furniture can't talk. Furniture can't move. Furniture can't cum.

But...

Apparently, this little footstool can get wet.

He's dripping all over the floor, all that squeezing tight around his stuffed-up hole must almost be milking his prostate, making his cock just leak and leak. And the heated drip-drop of pre-cum spilling messily out from the slit of his engorged, soooo stiff cock isn't the only wetness. He's stopped crying by now, he doesn't have any tears left, nothing but hollow sobs in his chest. The other wetness that Steve is going to meanly make Bucky clean up later--it's his filthy little mess after all, being so eager and dumb that he can't even play a game for a few hours, following the simple rules Steve sets for him, just be a footrest! It's not that hard!--is his drool. He's drooling badly around the gag.

He's a fucking mess.

And he's starting to get even messier. He's breaking. Cracking. Shattering.

Underneath Steve's heels--that he might be digging into Bucky's back on purpose, maybe, he'll never tell--Bucky's breathing is getting less and less even, more and more harsh, his ribcage flexing and heaving. He's squirmier, too. His thighs quivering, challenged by having to hold him up while being held together themselves. His arms, too, are shaking. He can't take his own weight. He can't bear it. It's too much.

With a muffled, choking moan, Bucky suddenly collapses onto his hands, leaving him ass-up. Apparently, if his agonized, shuddering squeak is anything to go by, the change in angle has made the dildo inside him shove deeper into him.

Cute.

Steve does nothing more than exasperatedly, impatiently fold the newspaper he's been "reading," tossing it down across his lap, and look over at Bucky. He's a hell of a lot redder and shinier than he was the last time Steve saw him. His hair is plastered to his forehead and blindfold keeping him locked onto nothing but the sensations happening to his own body. The rest of the world tuned out. He looks feverish. If his eyes weren't covered, they'd be hazy and fucked-out, lost to anything other than Steve. And with Steve? He'll just cry and curl around him, begging for more. Anything. Anything else Steve wants to do to him. Just more. Please!

"Really?" Steve clicks his tongue, rubbing his foot along Bucky's side and belly and hip. He feels just how hard he's breathing, heaving in air and pushing it out harshly. He's quaking. Quivering. And he convulsed when Steve lets his foot uninterestedly drag over his cock. Steve knows he has shit circulation. He knows his bare feet are cold as shit over Bucky's feverish, edged cock. He doesn't care. Let him quiver and shake and let him dig his teeth into his gag trying and failing to deal with the cold, sharp pleasure. He's afraid of it, he's trying to hold back. It hurts! He doesn't know Steve's gonna make him cum like this. He's trying to save himself, how cute.

With enough force to make Bucky feel hot flares of agonizing, pleasurable pain against Steve's cold, boney foot, Steve pushes his cock up into his heaving body, pinning it tightly and rubbing back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. It doesn't take more than a minute before Bucky is letting out all these sharp, needy, gurgly sounds that mean I'm gonna cum! I'm close! I'm gonna cum! Guh-gonna! Gonna cum! Steve knows. Steve doesn't stop.

He lets Bucky cum like that, face-down, ass-up with his eyes blinded, his mouth stuffed, his thighs tied together, his greedy, twitching hole stuffed, and his balls so overfull and denied that he feels like he's gonna burst at the seams.

He does.

He cums everywhere.

The orgasm so fucking intense that he can't make a sound. He can't move. He just goes rigid and lets Steve rip it out of him. Over-overwhelmed.

"Good boy," Steve purrs, all too smug and satisfied with the teeth-rattling intensity of Bucky's orgasm.

Bucky squeaks out one last sob before going entirely limp. He's so worn out, melting down onto his belly, that he doesn't even make a sound when his oversensitive cock grates against their wooden floors.

[year2000electronics]

Evil brozone headcanon, they definitely have a rivalry with the Yodel bros.

JD already was going to accept taking the job as part of revenge against his former tribe but when he heard shimmer was involved and was told the power chord wouldn't hurt anyone. He was definitely in on the plan.

Brozone were with the rockers when they captured and attacked the other tribes.

Shimmer kissed JD to distract him long enough to try and get the others away. It worked to well bc they ended making out and poppy knocked him out.

Shimmer: WTF poppy!

Poppy: um we trying to escape?

S: OH yeah......

P: we shoul-

Shimmer : yes we should go!

Later branch drops a cup of water on jd to wake him up.

B: 😮‍💨 what was that about getting my head out of my pants about poppy.

JD: not one more word Bitty B 😡

yeah!! the brozone bros are VERY familiar with all the other bounty hunters! jd and dickory butt heads a lot as the respective leaders of their group but floyd and hickory get along :] the bounty hunter they get along with the least is chaz just because they have very similar strategies on dealing with people, the group they get along with most are the kpop gang! pop trolls respect pop trolls yknow

also hahaha i love shimmer getting too into the kiss and forgetting she was supposed to be a distraction

[stepfordgoth]

Btw I think I may have cracked the code in my years long aphid problem. It's because I'm an idiot lol. A well-meaning idiot, but an idiot nonetheless. (This is probably going to be a long post.)

So, I started composting a few years ago and honestly I didn't really know what I was doing at all. Fully winging it. The majority of things that I've been composting have been kitchen and garden scraps, which are "green" compostables. I vaguely knew of the concept of "green" and "brown" compostables so I would occasionally toss my greens in a brown paper lunch bag and just compost the whole thing and I figured that was enough....... It turns out that was not enough. Lol. Apparently you're supposed to be composting way more browns than greens, and if you compost way more greens than browns (like I did) you're going to get ANTS. Lots of them. This happens because the compost takes a lot longer to decompose when there's too many greens and not enough browns (there's a lot of science at play here and I'm not gonna go into all of it in this post, but just know that much). And slow decomposition attracts ants.

I have found SO MANY ANTS in my compost pile in the last couple weeks. I am not exaggerating when I say literally hundreds of thousands of them in the small area of the compost pile that I was trying to work with. I didn't notice them at first, and I added a lot of that compost to my garden beds. When I got to the point of realizing.... Shit man, that's a lot of ants...... I googled it because, again, I'm a well-meaning idiot and I was curious exactly how bad tons of ants in my compost (and eventually in my garden) is. Most of the stuff I read said that it's a totally normal part of decomposition to find lots of ants in your compost. So I, again, an idiot, was like. Cool. And added more of it to my garden beds.

Then last Sunday I noticed, AS I WAS SHOVELING COMPOST INTO THE BED, that the first aphid colony of the year has arrived on my chamomile. And that's when the lightbulb moment happened. I realized, with sudden "oh you dumbass" clarity...... Wait, if I'm adding ants to a bed that has aphids already, won't that make my aphid problem worse? Since ants farm and protect aphids and all that? And I dropped my shovel and ran inside and did some more googling. And yeah, I'm correct about that hunch. And also, I should've read more in depth about ants in my compost in the first place. It turns out that yes, ants in your compost are a perfectly normal sign of decomposition, but they signify that it's still in the process of decomposition and should not be used in garden beds yet because it will cause a variety of problems if you do....... Several of which I have seen firsthand in the last few years, including rampant aphids. Last year I had a big slug problem, that's also probably because of not fully decomposed compost in my garden beds. Also I might not have mentioned it, but there's been a weird smell around my garden for the past couple years that I assumed was the smell of the "honeydew" secreted by the aphids feeding on my chamomile..... Turns out that's actually the smell of decomposing, not yet ready for use compost. 😮‍💨

So, to sum it up, here's the exact chronological flow of the fuckups I've created that have caused my current garden problems:

Composting too many greens, not nearly enough browns for several years -> creates high-nitrogen, slow decomposing compost -> encourages ants in the compost pile

Putting that unfinished compost (infested with i don't even want to think about how many ants) in my garden beds for years -> encourages more ants -> exacerbates an existing aphid problem

I thought I was doing all the right things too 😮‍💨 I didn't even know all the shit I didn't know. I'm disappointed in myself tbh.

Anyway, really the only fix now is adding a LOT of browns to the compost pile and giving it time to correct itself. I bought a bag of those brown paper lunch bags the other day just to cut them all up into little strips to compost them. Hopefully that helps, and soon!

[vilf-lover]

okay my review of kenju audio 🙂‍↕️

now- no hate. kind of. i absolutely don’t condone or encourage stealing other peoples artistic visions and ideas and creations but also i don’t want to criticize some doing something that makes them happy. you get it.

first: telepath bf comforts you

excited and scared, very scared. geordi and james aren’t exactly in the best places right about now but this is not redacted audio…….

okay….he’s australian

NO HATE TO MY AUSTRALIAN BABES I WAS JUST THROWN FOR A LOOP

i can’t really explain how i feel about this. i’m um bored.

it’s very “i’m home. you suck. what’s wrong. you suck.” *extensive sigh*

where’s the flavor 😃

it’s giving early david but like not at all

he’s like more of a walking red flag believe it or not

so i’ve found the reason we’re being comforted he says “if they’re mean to you again” we getting bullied or what

“you’re my mess” brother wrap it up im so sorry but what

“you really shouldn’t let that stuff get to you- it’s a lot of bullcrap” 😐 okay

“you need to not care as much about what people think of you” that’s enough, this is not a pep talk

“just be yourself and that’s all you can ask for” i feel like im back in middle school at the inspirational seminars

“now are you done moping. LITTLE. BABY.” yk i can’t tell if david was this bad and im just more attracted to the idea of him or if this is just. dry. AND mean.

OH MY GOD AND ITS OVER ✊🏼✊🏼✊🏼

he wasn’t even supposed to be tsundere 😢

it was just boring, that’s really all. there was no background noise, stale line reading, very very scripted vibes (yeah i know the whole thing in this genre is a script you know what i meannnn)

i can’t even muster the courage to listen to the vampire ones because i’ll fight someone if i feel even a glimpse of sam-like mannerism

second AND LAST: tsundere werewolf has shifting trouble 😀😀😀😀

now part of me was trying to work with the benefit of the doubt and not think he was copying erik. this title within itself confirmed he is indeed. i’m not excited for this one especially after the last one.

no one can recreate my milo tho so this will be interesting

first second and i’m hearing grunting and i want to turn my phone off.

“go away, can’t you see i’m busy” get milo’s words out of your mouth

WAIT HES IN THE LIVING ROOM 😰😰😰

wait okay guys i’ve made a horrible lapse in judgement. he’s not having trouble shifting. he’s having trouble *not* shifting 😮‍💨 phew thought he was copying redacted but it seems like we’re all good

he fell down the stairs because he shifted randomly 😭😭😭

damn he’s mean

oh and it’s just his leg that’s shifting

i’m gonna go to sleep and this isn’t a sleep aid

OH HE USES THE SAME GROWLING SOUND EFFECT LMFAO 🐺🐺

OH WAIT THIS IS LIKE YOU GET BITTEN AND TURN

wow vamp x werewolf lore crossover

“i pride myself on my control with my shifting” well that’s a bit of a problem now isn’t it

“god knows i wouldn’t hear the end of it from lucas and i know i would just get speeches from nate” …right right right

ohhhh and he’s the beta ☝🏼

“and don’t call me puppy” oh???? wow we’re really just collecting character traits

i had to skip through the rest fairly quickly because i simply could not

AND WE ARE DONE.

@vegafan69 my professional review done 🤓

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias - The Award Part 6/15

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7

The kiss 😮‍💨 Ruben just couldn't help himself, could he.🤭🤭

Kiera Reed, upcoming superstar, the new it girl, multi Grammy Award winner…or so she wants to be. Realizing that the music industry has little to do with talent and a lot to do with status, Kiera is willing to do it all to give her music the recognition it deserves. Even if that means fake dating the stubborn, inconsiderate and undeniably arrogant football player, Ruben Dias. It is through lies, schemes and hurt that the "couple" comes to know each other. But through passion, love and sacrifice Kiera and Ruben go through lengths to help each other achieve their dreams.

Enjoy! ✨️

A month in Manchester went by faster than Kiera expected. Between the time she spent in the studio working on her music and time she spent with Angie and her university friend's, Kiera barely saw Ruben. He was also very busy, and their agreement to be seen together at least once a week often resulted in rushed walks in the park with Simba. Some tabloids had picked up on it, mistaking Kiera for Ruben's personal dog sitter, however, this type of gossip wasn't very beneficial for either of them.

"It's because you're walking so far apart from another."

"What do you mean?" Kiera appeared behind Angie's shoulder, peering over it to see the image on her laptop.

"Look, you're barely walking side by side." She said, pointing to the only picture of Kiera and Ruben as an alleged couple. "Who is gonna believe that this is the next Victoria and Beckham. I certainly don't."

"Okay, okay I get it. We could do better."

"Much better. I suggest you text him right now and ask if you can come over."

Kiera frowned at her cousin. "Are you out of your mind? I can't do that."

"No? Why not?"

"Because—" Kiera stuttered, feeling how tremendous heat rose to her face. "Ruben and I have already met this week, remember?"

"Yes and the proof is in the pudding." Angie said, throwing a bitter glance at the image on her laptop. "Let's face it Keke. You and Ruben have no chemistry. How are you going to appeal to the public if there is simply no spice between you?"

"Well there doesn't have to be any real spice between us Ang, we're only pretending to date."

"And soon you'll be pretending to break up." Angie shut her laptop and got up to gather her things.

"We're are you going?"

"Ehm, back to the dorms, where else?"

"But…but you're free to stay here, with me." Kiera offered, her rented apartment in Manchester being big enough for a family of three. 

"Sorry Keke, but I've got exams to study for in the morning."

"You can study here. No one will bother you. It's only me tonight since Odell went to visit an old friend in town."

Angie sighed in remorse, her bag clutched tightly between her arms. "Sorry, Kiera. I really think you should take this time to see Ruben, especially with Odell gone. Perhaps that's what the two of you need, a time alone where your phone isn't buzzing every time your boyfriend decides to check in on you. Haven't you noticed how uneasy it makes Ruben whenever that happens."

"It does?"

"Yes girl! The two of you are supposed to get into character, be this exciting hot new couple. I don't see that happening if you keep juggling between a real relationship and a fake one."

"I….I never thought of it that way." 

"Of course you don't, no one would since this entire predicament is completely absurd, taken straight out of a movie. But you're in it for a reason, remember that."

Kiera had no choice but to nod. "Okay."

Angie smiled. "I'll see you later. Make sure to text that boy. "

Kiera was conflicted. Usually she'd inform Odell whenever she and Ruben planned to meet. Odell would actually be the person to tip off the tabloids about their whereabouts. But tonight...tonight Kiera would have to go about things on her own.

Shortly after Angie left she gathered her own things and left the apparment.

Read full chapter on my Patreon!

Prologue

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 7

[sissylittlefeather]

Hi!! I saw your beautiful poem and came running to your inbox, How are you doing?? Is Elvis treating our girl well? I bet he is!

I've been thinking about your suspicious minds series and was wondering when you'll be posting the next part? It's so fun to read, I just can't get enough😩

The guns, the cars, the outfits, the locations, the love making, the horrors, the story...

EVERYTHING

I've always found spy action movies very entertaining but man reading your series just makes it so much more😮‍💨

I've also been thinking about your series you did a while back of widow!reader and neighbour!Elvis(I don't remember the name😭) and gosh I really don't know how many times I've reread that story.

Is it possible for you to write a mini series like that one again??

Definitely don't have to if you don't wanna!

Hi friend!!! Sorry, I posted that poem and then promptly passed out last night 😂.

I'm pretty good. Getting over having strep and trying to wrap my head around how much I'll be working this summer, but I've been worse. Elvis keeps me going with little hints of his presence here and there!

I'm so glad you love Suspicious Minds!!! It's one of my favorite things that I've ever written. Part 3 will probably be coming here before too long now that I finally finished Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming. So stay tuned! I promise I'll write it. The story is burning in my brain too much to abandon it!

You liked A Very Quiet Life too?? That was my first series! What did you like about it? I have a new series coming that's going to be very fluffy and domestic, if that's the part you liked about it. Or I suppose I could always revisit that one!

I have this problem though (called ADHD) where I have to write what's shiny to me at the moment or I won't write anything at all. So it's hard for me to do requests and things. But I'll keep all this in mind as I write!

I sincerely appreciate you so much. I love getting messages like this. They keep me writing when I get discouraged. So thank you!!!!

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

[stargirlfeyre]

“Azriel may be boring as shit but at least he never went after someone who was actively treating Feyre like shit. At least the Archeron he’s going after is actually working to fix her relationship with Feyre. Cassian went for someone who was still treating his friend like dog shit and I just can’t respect that.” ALL OF THIS

i’m always hesitant to say this bc some ppl are super sensitive when it comes to cassian for some funny reason (all the other boys are able to be criticized but not him bc he can be funny?) but part of why i don’t like him as much as azriel is because of how he went for nesta too early on, it was super premature for him to come onto her so blatantly in front of everyone even when she was mortal and he’d literally just met her, knowing how feyre was treated etc…i adore cassian when i don’t look at his character too closely. as much as i prefer feyssian over feyzriel because of her and cassian having more sweet bestie moments than her and az do, whenever there’s a discussion i’ll always choose az first because of cassian and nesta. like anon said i can’t help but put myself in feyre’s shoes when i’m reading but i don’t like that he came onto nesta the way he did and how soon he did, and he had no shame about it in front of feyre and the rest.

i know some people are super chill or they have sisters or family members that cross these lines all the time, like your friend flirting with your sister, but in my family or friend groups we don’t do that especially if a sister is really mean to me, why would i approve of my friend going for her so blatantly in front of me? it’s not so much a harsh or possessive petty thing but just basic morale? cassian imo doesn’t get enough flack for how he came onto nesta so soon. it’s true too that at least az didn’t show any signs of having a crush until acowar and acofas, i prefer someone humbly and respectfully handling a crush on my sister than how in your face cassian was about it with nesta in only book two. idk sometimes it feels like his dick thinks for him and even acosf proved that.

i prefer acowar cassian! but i also skip the pages whenever he’s acting out over nesta or they’re both being angst ridden for one another, i just can’t take it seriously bc he was obv thinking with his dick or mating bond and she was still treating everyone like they were less than her despite her being a pos who has never done anything.

idk 😮‍💨 like i said it’s so easy to love cass as a character when you don’t look at his dynamic with nesta from feyre’s shoes in book two. i imagine mainly feyre stan’s struggle with him due to his attachment to nesta so early on. that bonus chapter anon mentioned where cassian put his body up against nesta’s asking whether she was a virgin or not? he’d only recently met her and was doing that, it being too soon aside, it was very inappropriate to do. even mor made it clear that he acts that way with women when they don’t want him and see’s it as “a challenge” just 10 reasons why az and rhysand will always come off as the most mature to me.

the other reasons i don’t favor him have to do with sjm having him refer to nesta as a queen in acosf, him always showing doubt with the ic’s decisions in acosf as if he’s not apart of the ic (why did he seem so against them in acosf at times? most of the time they were right too so it was just weird for sjm to do) saying nesta didn’t need to apologize to anyone supposedly (really sjm? 💀) having sex with nesta on a hike where she was supposed to own up to her wrongs and mature after she just told feyre she could die (inappropriate timing much..?) acting funny when rhysand felt the need to tell her to be nice to gwyn and emerie when he knows damn well rhysand isn’t at the house of wind like them to know nesta’s behavior had gotten better. how the hell would rhysand know that nesta’s not being mean to him when rhysand’s only ever seen her be rude af to everyone..? and then made it even worse when he petulantly wrapped his arm around nesta to make rhysand feel uncomfortable.

•

[ragingbullmode]

I'm a baby goth who really wants to get better at makeup and more specifically eyeliner similar to what you do. Do you have any products or tips you reccomend for getting started? I try to look up advice online but it's overwhelming and it's kinda embarrassing to ask for advice irl.. ty in advance if you decide to answer this.

hi !! idk how good my advice will be but ill do my best to answer as well as i can !

as a heads up i freehand everything but i have seen people use the tape method to keep their liner/eyeshadow straight (which is just putting a piece of scotchtape on the side of ur eye where u plan to have a straight area of liner)

i found using water activated liner helped me a Lot when i started doing more graphic looks at the end of last year (since its water activated u can easily just wipe it off with a makeup wipe or wet tissue) but there is a difference in feel when applying it compared to using a liner pen (to me at least) ie the brush length makes it easier for me to do the smaller details as it gives me more control, but once i got a good feel for doing stuff like that it made using the pen easier. water activated is also much better if u plan on more colorful looks; liner pens do come in colors but they dont pop as well or as bright as the water liners.

as for making ur liner symmetrical… not sure how to give the best advice for that 🤔 the way i do it is ill line out one eye with the outline of what i want to do & try to match the other eye best i can. i have shakey hands but ive found planting my elbow on my desk table & my lining hand on my cheek really helps to stabilize myself so my lines come out straight. to straighten out my lines (like if i made one side to thick) ill just wipe a smidge of it with a wet cotton pad with water liners, but when i use a liner thats waterproof i use micellar water or a make up wipe to fix it.

as for my lids i use a mehron skin prep toner (its the only product ive found that works for my Very oily lids, but its definitely not for everyone… stings like SHIT if its in ur eye especially since i am… not supposed to use it for what i have been 😬. adding that bc if i do t use it sometimes the oil will denature the liner & smear it all over my lids lol. on top of that i put foundation & whatever eyeshadow i want on top of that when the foundation is dry enough it wont smear. putting liner over whatever u layered on ur lids is a commitment & a little hard to fix if u want to put the liner on in 1 go which is why i recommend practice & playing around !!

dont be scared about it not looking nice at that start, just start with something simple to get that feel for it so u can work up to what u want 👍

as for products, i got my water inks from bymelolops (latina owned, based in puerto rico !) i bought this liner brush (and a few water inks as well) from gavissi. my eyeshadow is mostly sugarpill (i only buy when its on sale, its a little pricey but worth it) but if ur on more of a budget colourpop has good options. as for liner pens, ive been using the last of my nyx liner, but am looking for a good alternative (loreal supports isr*el) so im unfortunately not much help here as im Also on the look out 😮‍💨

i definitely suggest getting some cheap stuff to play around with !! many places like sephora & ulta also sell small sample sizes of liners so u can get one of those to try out before u commit to something. a lot of what i started with years ago came from the dollar store bc that was all i could afford at the time lolll

[eemcintyre]

"Stretch" (2014) review

Aka ✨ why this movie is one of the most underrated ones I've ever seen and why it is some of Patrick Wilson's best work ✨

"If you like stories about chance and coincidence, here's one you've never heard" gives me the chills every time 😮‍💨

Patrick Wilson is one of the most underappreciated actors of his time, like, not only do his other projects demonstrate that he has drama, romance, instruments, and singing down ✨, but here he is finally given a chance to flaunt his impeccable comedic timing, vocalizations, and expressions

Idk maybe I just love movies with narration (ex., "Heathers," "Jerry Maguire," "Amelie," "Eloise at Christmastime," "Megamind," "American Made," "The Outsiders," etc.)

But jokes aside, I will defend Patrick Wilson's narration throughout the movie no matter whAT ANYONE SAYS YOU CAN PRY IT FROM MY COLD DEAD FINGIES; IT IS AT TURNS FUNNY AND RELATABLE AND PROFOUND AND WE GET TO KNOW THE MAIN CHARACTER BETTER 😤😤

It does start a bit slow, especially if you aren't as invested in Patrick Wilson as I am 🙃🫠 but if you stick with it and pay attention to the subtle comedic elements in the meantime 👌🏻

This movie is not afraid to be a bit irreverent, which is a modern and mainstream rarity

Stretch and Charlie are so cute together; I wish more of their interactions had been kept in the final cut because when I think of the quality content that we missed 😩💖

"Who gains weight in their neck?" "Sexy people." "Three months of Rosetta Stone- I HATE THE FUCKING FRENCH." "We was gettin' all romantic, watching Titan-tic..." and so, so many more

Honestly, Karl is an integral part of this film as well- he may seem overtly cartoonish to some, but again, we get to know the main character better through him, as his presence gives us a visual of Stretch's inner struggle; he contributes to the dark humor vibe, and Ed Helms was clearly having the time of his life (as was the entire cast)

Speaking of which, stellar casting all around, especially those who were cast against type; love when directors give that stuff a chance. Everyone was made for their role

Dark humor, satire of Hollywood, homage to 80s films

The Navstar scene. If you know you know

Same goes for the post-Candace club exit scene with the valet, the wannabe rapper, and the sex club exit scene (there's a man wearing only balloons. need I say more). I mean, the whole movie is basically the best part and I'm trying not to make this review me just naming every scene and going "yes. this is good" but these are some of the most standout parts

The soundtrack may be atrocious overall, but the exception is the song at the end (although I was disappointed when I read that it was originally supposed to be "Telephone Line" by ELO but they didn't have enough in the budget because that would have gone so hard) 😩💕

Speaking of the ending, why is it so incredibly pure and sweet to me that it would almost make me cry if I weren't medicated? 🥺 Something about the setting of the diner, exuding vintage charm and glowing in the sun the quiet morning after the previous night of chaos, and the serendipity of how Stretch and Charlie finally reveal how much they've obviously liked each other for a while, and after all of the danger and depravity, everything ends soft and gentle and alright 😊💖

This film is somehow so sleazy and wholesome at the same time- against the backdrop of drugs, sex clubs, threats of violence, and constant swearing, it's ultimately a story about overcoming cynicism and self-destruction, getting your "mojo" back, taking control of your life, and allowing for the possibility that things happen for a reason ✨ Honestly? 10/10

[niinuskainen]

What is the tone of February?

I honestly don't know. This Winter has been odd. It's been cold, warm, colder, warm again... it's like the Winter doesn't really start and the Spring comes over and over again. Usually our Spring time is like this, but not the whole Winter. I don't really wish lots of snow, but some sort of balance would be great. This endless change of the weather is exhausting for the mind and body. 😮‍💨

My rehabilitative work ended, but I still continue working at the Ecomarket, but only on occational days. I am going to this Professional rehabilitation thing, but I'm supposed to be able to do it from home (remote connection). Only 2 days are demanded to be physically present. We shall see what becomes from that... I am skeptic, but it's definitely better solution that start hunting jobs (there aren't any) or some work trial places (have no idea where or what type of business).

It feels so stupid, that there is work to do that nobody is currently doing or even wants to do (but me), yet they cannot hire me to do it, because they don't have enough money to pay me. 🙄 I would love to do it, but nope. I have to go find something else, that really isn't there either. I don't have education for anything else but art. And there us no jobs for artists. Unless you sell your art and that I cannot do.

Once again I've been feeling useless human garbage. The Ecomarket is the only place, where I feel that I'm good at what I do and that I'm actually wanted and needed. That's why I've been offered some work days. But it truly sucks that they cannot hire me for real job. This world sucks overall, because the systems are only focusing on money and productivity, not human wellbeing.

Oh well... I'll wait for that Professional rehabilitation thing to start and while waiting, I'll be doing this little commission work for my former supervisor (new co-worker) from the rehabilitative work. But I'm having some problems to get into my work, because it's weird just suddenly be at home and not go to work.

Today we have had -9°C ... it's actually -14°C at the moment. It's pretty cold for quite some time. Earlier I was watching the sunset and I saw some birds flying as a large flock in front of the moon and a bright star. It looked like the birds were dancing in the orange yellow horizon. And then came the hare and sat in front of me, behind the window glass. I whispered: "hello darling!" and she moved her ears like she'd heard me, then the hare went eating the food, that I'd taken out there earlier. It was truly a magickal moment. 💜✨️💜✨️💜

So... what is the tone of February? I guess I'll have to live through to see it.

~Nineveh~

[thisisnotreallife]

The Cancer Journals, Part III:

Captain’s Log, Chemodate 10.0

Today marks Day 10 following Round 1 of my chemotherapy treatments, and it is the first day I haven’t felt blindsided by some new side effect or other—and the first day I feel like I might actually be able to get back to good health before my next session in two weeks. Phew.😮‍💨

The last week has been rough. Rough in the way that it’s hard to convey over text message or in a social media post. Rough in the way that you don’t really know until you know it. Rough in the way that even when you’re going through it, you don’t really grasp all the muck you’re raking your way through. So, I thought I’d write it down.

The day after chemotherapy wasn’t terrible, but by the second day, the side effects started, with an extreme fatigue and an overall ugh/blegh sick feeling, mostly like I just wasn’t well at all.

I had nausea at random, solitary times, not constantly or consistently. This is better than feeling nauseous all the time, but the surprise factor leaves something to be desired. Once this week, I woke up in the middle of the night nauseated and thought I’d vomit, but it passed. Once, it happened on a workday at 9:18am, after I’d woken up feeling relatively good and ready to meet the work deadlines ahead of me. That day, I actually did vomit and had to spend the rest of the day working from bed because of said deadlines. The other time I had nausea, my stomach was feeling a bit funky, so I decided to put a peppermint hard candy in my mouth, which I had been using to help with a few side effects—but it was actually a cherry candy that looked like a peppermint in some freak factory mix-up. It shocked my tastebuds, which was not what I needed, and we had to wait for the nausea to pass before we could leave like we had been planning to. We carry an insulated, waterproof cooler bag in the car in case the nausea randomly strikes while we’re out of the house. 🥴

The drugs the doctors gave me to keep the nausea at bay work well, but they have their own side effects, too. One of the drugs is an extremely low dosage of an anti-psychotic, of all things, and even though it made it so I could keep food down, it definitely made me feel off in a way I don’t care to explore much further. Yikes.

Two or three days after my chemo infusion, I lost the ability to taste anything. Bubbly water, which had been my go-to for staying hydrated, suddenly tasted off, and even plain water was nasty. Food does not taste good when it does not taste like anything, unsurprisingly—I found it’s best to stick to bland foods, which are at least supposed to taste bland. But the malfunctioning tastebuds made it rather difficult to get enough liquids in me and to eat a varied and healthy diet; I mostly ate bland carbs this past week. I could not stomach any meat or seafood after a few days—luckily this only happened after we ate the amazing carnitas that our friends Patty and Graham dropped off on the Monday after chemo (thank you!!).

Along with the tastebuds, because the chemotherapy drugs are targeting the fast-growing cells in the body, chemo patients can get sores in their mouths, which I exacerbated by biting my lip over and over again in the same spot on said carnitas tacos. I was lucky to not get major sores this time, but my mouth hurt all over constantly, and my tongue developed these scalloped edges that I can feel and see in the mirror when I stick my tongue out. Otherwise, my mouth and tongue look awful, too, like I’ve been sick for ages.

My nose got dry and cracked and bloody halfway through the week—not bleeding, but that painful and dry blood kind. Thankfully, Dr. Benson answers after-hours texts and recommended Aquaphor, which worked on my nose and on my horribly chapped lips, which were not having it with the natural, coconut oil-based hippie stuff that comes in a cardboard tube I normally use.

I am taking a medication that suppresses my ovarian function during chemotherapy, which is supposed to protect my ovaries and eggs from the drugs they’re pumping into me (more on breast cancer and fertility another time). These sorts of drugs can induce an early menopause while you are on them, and right on cue, I started having very intense night sweats this week, waking up several times throughout the night in soaked sheets even though we’re keeping the room cool. I’ve had a personal AC/humidifier pointed directly at me throughout the past several nights, to no avail, and waking up throughout the night rather than sleeping through obviously means I’m getting less rest than I need. Oof.

While I work from home and my job is flexible, having to work during chemotherapy inarguably sucks, but I am trying to save my limited paid time off for my mastectomy surgery later this year; I’ll use a combination of sick time, short-term disability, and vacation time for that, and I want to make sure I can take enough time to fully heal. After this week, my heart breaks even more than it did before for the cancer patients who have to go into work through their treatment, whose work isn’t flexible or understanding, or whose work is physically demanding in any way. I don’t know how they do it, especially in America where our cancer care is tied to our employment.

For me, even in my chill job that I love, this past week happened to coincide with a few deadlines at work, since the fall term at our university starts soon. Patrick is also working full-time while trying to take care of me full-time—because if I help him with anything around the house, I run out of spoons well before the end of the day (the spoon theory has been helpful but maybe I need to walk around with some actual spoons in my pocket as a reminder…). Patrick is amazing, but more on that another day, too. 🥹

I am an extremely tense person (I’ve had more than one massage therapist audibly gasp when they reached my poor upper back and shoulders), and I noticed I’ve been, predictably, extremely tense this week. Like I’m bracing myself against the next side effect I know is around the corner. This has left me with throbbing pain in my lower back and sacrum throughout the week. I think it’s mainly my psoas muscles that are the culprit, which are very long and connected to most other parts of our bodies and are easily affected by stress, as well.

Another symptom I think is connected to the vasomotor changes associated with chemo-induced menopause manifests as what feels like a throbbing in the arteries and veins in a localized area, very intensely and for a short period of time, sometimes when I move. It passes relatively quickly, but it is all-encompassing when it happens, and painful, stopping me in my tracks—which sucks especially because then it sometimes happens again, in a different area of my body, when I begin moving again.

I’ve ended more than one night with the kind of pounding headache that surges with any movement, definitely worsened by my difficulty drinking enough water throughout the days and probably not helped by the sugar in the Gatorade I can manage to drink watered down 3:1, and my cough, which has shown up any time I’ve been at all under the weather since I had COVID in June 2022, has been acting, up, too. Oh, and at the risk of oversharing (har-de-har-har-har—who am I kidding? Isn’t that what I’m doing here to begin with?), I also happened to have my period this past week, which was intensified by my brand new copper IUD, the only form of long-term birth control that I can currently use because it is non-hormonal and will not cause my cancer to grow like hormonal birth controls might. And nobody wants to get pregnant during chemotherapy.

The weird thing about cancer, when it’s caught early, I guess, is that the cure—the things the doctors and nurses do to get the cancer out of you—is the thing that ultimately makes you sick.

I mostly felt fine before my port surgery and chemo started. A little worn down. More tired and out of sorts than usual. Disconnected, almost. But not sick.

I think this is hard on a lot of cancer patients. It’s hard to muster the ease and the strength needed, at once, to meet the rolling tide of side effects to drugs the doctors tell you are going to help you live, when those drugs are sapping your strength and making your life harder, not easier.

The other weird thing about cancer—the kind that’s caught early and has a good prognosis, I mean—is that it’s just something you make it through. You just do. Moment to moment. Day to day. New side effect to new side effect.

You roll with it, and you don’t have much time to think about how much it sucks even though you know it does. And when someone asks you how you’re feeling, you don’t have the space or words to tell them all the things at once, and so you tell them what’s happening at the moment. And it doesn’t sound so bad, really. And it’s not.

But it also is.

Cancer is all-encompassing. Every moment kind of sucks; some moments really suck. And yet, there’s never been a moment—so far, knock on wood—where all of these side effects have been beleaguering me at once. There’s never been a moment—so far, knock on wood—that I didn’t think I could make it through to the next one.

That’s due in large part to both my excellent care and my support system—starting with Patrick and extending to all of you reading and beyond.

Cancer sucks. Chemotherapy sucks. But I’m doing it. And in some ways, because it’s gonna save my life, I’m grateful to be.

It feels like a miracle. A miracle that really sucks, but a miracle, nonetheless.

As a friend of mine once said, hallelujah anyway. ✨

[hvackisser]

I think it's funny that a few days ago I was listening to a lot of punk music and today I'm in more of a folk mood.

[holdmeiamscared]

literally crawling out of a cave to obsess over the homelander like jesus 😮‍💨

anyways, here’s a story idea. long winded bullshit below the cut baby. (~3k words)

OMNIPOTENT— homelander x reader

⚠️: pre-season one, CANON DIVERGENCE, reader has a potty mouth, threats of bodily harm, reader is the guardian of their nephew (who is named in the fic), reader’s whole immediate family (minus their nephew) is deceased, mentions of brutal murder (it’s homelander— what were you expecting), homelander is his own warning, sexual intercourse— fem bodied reader, praise, homelander’s mommy kink (he never refers to them as mommy but if you look close enough it’s implied), reader is mouthy, homelander is literally obsessed, and reader is dangerously horny for him.

literally need a story about homelander meeting you, a lowly employee of Vought, likely a cleaner—someone nobody looks twice at.

you’re just determined to keep your head down, mind your business, get your paycheck and go home to care for your sweet nephew, the only thing that means anything to you anymore.

and it’s just a case of wrong place, wrong time.

you hear him before you see him, tearing into that poor Ashley girl— part of you freezes up, and you consider turning heel, but nevertheless, you have to pass. you’ll be quick, you reassure yourself— you take off, your shoes slapping the tiles as you pick up your pace, determined to not make any contact with them.

it doesn’t work. of course it doesn’t fucking work.

the sharp, “you! come here!” is enough to make you flee, but you don’t want any problems. especially not with homelander, the pretentious jackass that might as well be signing your fucking paychecks.

you turn your head, contemplating making a break for it, but you don’t— you stand steady, staring at the scene before you. your gaze flickers from the greatest hero’s tacky uniform, to the quivering redhead in front of him.

your hesitation is more enough to throw him back into a rage, “are you fucking deaf? or just stupid? i said come here!”

now, you normally consider yourself level— calm, but after the shit day you’ve had, you can feel the frustration bubbling in your chest until you’re sure you’ll burst, “not deaf or dumb, sir. just busy— some of us are more than just a pretty fuckin’ face around here.”

your life flashes before your eyes when your gaze evens with eyes that are supposed to be sky blue.

but your nerve isn’t quite gone— the face of your sweet boy flashes a warning in your mind. you can’t leave him all alone.

your lips curl into a snear, pretty features hidden behind that mean look you’d mastered at a young age— so much for not wanting problems. he doesn’t speak again, and you turn, hastily continuing on your way.

you panic the moment you round the corner, almost expecting the homelander to follow and rip your spine out in some sort of real life fucking horror movie.

your chest heaves as you try to calm your breathing, but your mind replays the fear in Ashley’s eyes, making your attempts to calm yourself futile.

no matter how many times you imagine her face— you can’t distinguish if she was scared for herself, or for you.

————

you see homelander in person again the next day, and it’s more pleasant than the first time— but that’s likely because he doesn’t speak to you.

your nephew, Jax, is hanging on tightly to your hand as you make your way to the exit of Vought. he’s fresh back from his crackhead mother’s house, and you’re just more than excited to just take him back home.

the feeling that settles in your chest when you look down at him is soft— it’s love. your boy is the only reason you know what love is.

and you can’t help it— you’re scooping him up before you can stop yourself. he’s far too big for you to carry like a toddler, now at the ripe age of eight, but you don’t think that would ever stop you.

you can hear his protesting already, almost like he knows what your planning just by the change in your body language, but it’s far too late— you’re already kissing at the chub of his cheeks, until he’s squealing, “stop! stop! you’re embarrassing me!”

people are staring, homelander among them— but you’ve never cared about the stares, and since Jax thinks you’re being so embarrassing, you might as well play it up a bit, “oh! my baby! my babbyyyy! my sweet, sweet boy!” you nuzzle at him, whole body shivering with restrained giggles.

Jax is trying to wiggle out of your grip with more determination now, and when you finally release him, he’s staring up at you with that mean smolder you know he got from you, “that wasn’t funny.”

you gaze around the lobby, tensing when you notice the azure eyes— watching you like the big, gaudy eagles on his shoulders, but you try not to let it faze you— and you turn back to Jax, smiling easily, all teeth and saccharine love, “i thought it kinda was, shithead.”

your thumb trails along Jax’s forehead, pressing away the frown in his brow, tenderness in every movement, “you ready to get outta here or what?”

if you would have looked at homelander for just a second longer, maybe you would have noticed how longing his gaze had turned.

————

now, it’s been five days since your first encounter with homelander, and something is wrong.

you can feel him, even when you can’t see him— he’s watching you. he’s watching you do your mundane tasks at Vought, and you’re getting increasingly more irate with each passing day.

some days he’s more bold with his stalking. you’ll catch a glimpse of that stupid cape rounding the corner in front of you, hear the sound of his thunderous footsteps, smell the lingering cologne in the hallway.

other days, you never see him, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t there. you know he is— just watching.

on the sixth day, you lose all sense of logic and every bit of your common sense, “don’t you have anything fuckin’ better to do? you’re the homelander for fuck’s sake— go save a cat or something.”

you pause for a second, maybe he was right— you are just stupid.

he’s in front of you before you can blink again. all long limbs, broad shoulders, pretty eyes, pearly teeth— and malice.

you hold you ground, even though your heart has pittered it’s way out your ass. you swallow thickly at the sharp, false grin that pulls at his lips, “you’re a real mouthy bitch— you know that, right?”

you pause, weighing your options, watching his hand unfurl from a fist— he could crush your goddamn skull right now; but foolishly, you don’t think he will, “really? i didn’t know.”

he closes the distance between the two of you— and it strikes you deep in your gut, a pull you haven’t felt since your last shitty high school boyfriend— the homelander smells so fucking good.

“you should watch your tongue— it would be a shame if someone had to fucking rip it out.”

you should be scared— terrified, but he’s so close and you’re so lonely.

he catches your gaze, and when he realized the patter of your heart isn’t from fear anymore—his grin loses all of its smug meanness. then, as if to prove his point— to confirm what he’s sure he already knows, his hand grips at your throat— squeezing until you wheeze and the leather of his glove squeaks a noise similar to the one falling from your parted lips— but you don’t waver.

he’s gone as quickly as he appeared.

the homelander thinks you’re fucking insane.

he likes that.

————

the next few weeks go the same way.

homelander watches you, and some sick part of you starts to enjoy it. part of you is still weary, of course. this man could crush your windpipe, fold you up like a piece of human origami, snap every bone in your body with probably just his fucking pinky— and that was just if you looked at him the wrong way.

it was not the brightest idea to interact with him the way you were, but your need for adult interaction always seemed to triumph over your fear of what he could do to you.

you’ve even started talking to him— like he’s your friend. the dumb part of you argues he is.

your conversations are small things that probably have no meaning to him, but you don’t care— it helps placate your burning loneliness, even if everything you say is met with a response that makes rage burn your belly.

you talk about how Jax won his spelling bee ( “probably not that hard to win, kids are fucking stupid anyways.”), about how the shutters of your shitty old house are falling off ( “maybe you should get a new fuckin’ house then— oh right, you work a shitty job, with shitty pay. you couldn’t afford a new house. how thoughtless of me.”), how hard it is being on your own ( “poor little you, huh? no friends, no family— pathetic little life for a pathetic little bitch.”)

you know he doesn’t know how to interact with a normal person— so you let the comments slide. they hurt less when you realize he doesn’t really mean it.

he talks back to you though, which is still the most surprising part of your almost friendship.

he follows you through the halls, dark eyes watching your every move— and he tells you about his shitty teammates, about missions he probably shouldn’t, about how sometimes he hates having to be Vought’s face, about how sometimes he wishes he grew up with a real family.

that’s how you know he must be lonely too— he spends his spare time talking to a fucking nobody.

and of course, he’s met Jaxon, who you have to say, was utterly unimpressed during the whole encounter, at least until the homelander dropped that fake ‘greatest hero’ bullshit. (Jaxon told you once you were safe at home that he liked homelander— you couldn’t admit it then, but you wanted to tell him— you liked homelander too).

part of homelander wants to dislike Jaxon because he gets the part of you that John craves, but with each interaction, homelander realizes that the kid has wormed way under his fucking skin, the same way you have.

he knows it’s because Jaxon is a mirror image of you— a goddamn smartass with an attitude that’s too big for their body.

seeing homelander’s awkward interactions with Jax is what makes you realize you do, in fact, have a thing for him.

part of you considers him a friend, part of you is scared shitless of him, and the other, final part of you, well it wants to fuck him.

you are definitely just stupid.

————

at the end of the third month of your weird almost friendship, something strange happens— you don’t come to work.

the first day, homelander can put it off as you being sick, you’re a frail little human, after all.

then suddenly, it’s been a week, and the feeling in his stomach is like hot coal— what if you aren’t safe? what about that little shit Jaxon? (homelander knew he should have followed you home when he had the chance.)

you return the following week, but you don’t engage him like normal. no sly comments, no talking, nothing. you barely spare him a fucking glance.

you’re dancing on his last goddamn nerve, and homelander decides quickly— you have to talk to him, or he’ll make you.

when he corners you the following day, leering down at you—big, mean, and demanding you tell him what happened, you crumble.

you’re the most pitiful thing he has ever seen, teary eyed and clinging to his biceps like a lifeline.

you tell him how Jax got hurt. you tell him how it’s your fault, how you shouldn’t have let him go stay with his coke-whore of a mother, and how now Jaxon was paying for your lapse of judgment with a broken arm.

then, the real waterworks start when you tell him the cherry on top of this clusterfuck is that the cops can’t even find the men that did it, and Jaxon can’t sleep because he’s too worried they’ll come back.

the homelander’s hands tighten on your waist one you finish your story, fingers digging in hard enough you’re sure it’ll bruise. his jaw clenches next, and suddenly, it’s almost like he’s looking through you rather than at you— he’s upset, but you can’t tell why.

he snaps out of it as quickly as it happened, grip loosening, eyes focused back on your weepy expression.

the homelander isn’t very good with comfort, so when he speaks, it’s followed by his gloved fingers moving to wipe at the wet under your eyes, which almost makes up for what falls from his mouth, “stop crying. you look ugly.”

you hand slaps at his solid chest in a teasing motion, a wet chuckle pulling from your scratchy throat and you gaze up at him, that same fondness he’s seen you look at Jax with marring your features, “i missed you, you jackass.”

he missed you too.

————

that very night— the cops show up on your doorstep.

they’ve found the men, and they’re all dead.

every last one of them, battered beyond recognition— the cops even think some of them got hit by a truck. it’s crazy how brutally they died— one of them was even split in half.

they don’t want to show you the pictures for confirmation, but you insist. it’s every bit as gory as you thought it would be— blood, bones, and insides spewed all over the pavement.

some sick part of you likes it.

you’re glad they’re fucking dead, and you hope they suffered.

Jax gets his first full night of sleep after you tell him that he’s finally safe, and while you sit, just watching him finally rest— you swear you catch a flash of the American flag passing by the window.

————

in the morning— for the first time probably ever, you seek out the homelander first.

you find him easily— he’s standing in the seven’s main meeting room, looking down at the street, like he always does. he doesn’t speak, doesn’t turn to address or acknowledge you— so you decide to talk first, “you killed them?”

he stiffens, but doesn’t answer. your heart skips a beat.

it’s all the confirmation you need, but you’re itching to hear him say it.

homelander fears you’ll hate him for what he’s done, and he stands steadily listening to the quick bump of your heart, “John— did you kill them?”

he turns at the sound of his name, looking almost like a scolded child, like he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar, “they hurt Jaxon.”

he watches your chest heave— fearing that you’ll start screaming at any moment, then his gaze drops to your fiddling fingers— like he’s waiting for you to scold him.

you step closer, close enough for your scent to travel, and his gaze snaps back to your face, searching for confirmation.

you smell like you’re soaking your fucking panties right now.

“you killed them for Jax?”

you’re swallowing the ‘yes’ from his tongue before it even leaves his mouth. you’re desperate— hands pawing at any part of him you can reach, mouth stealing every bit of air from his lungs and mouthing it back to him in a quiet, whimpered ‘thank you.’

it’s not long after that, he’s settled in his chair at the end of the table with you perched in his lap. you’re sure you shouldn’t be doing this now— here, but it’s too late.

your shirt up is to your shoulders, homelander mouthing at your nipples through the irritating fabric left there— pleading with you quietly, “please— please. just want a taste.”

it sends a rush of power to your head, and your hips rock a jerky tempo against his pelvis until he’s moaning your name. you could fucking get off on the way he sounds alone— the fucking homelander, whining a pitiful little symphony just to suck at your tits.

he could take you now if he wanted to— you know he is more than capable of it. he could take what he wants easily, but instead— he’s asking you to give it to him. it makes heat fog up your brain in a way you can’t explain.

you give in to him easily, without a second thought.

it’s not long after that you’re split open on his cock, saccharine insides blooming open against the press of him at your fucking cervix. there are better places to do this, but you feel so omnipotent with each drop of your hips against his.

it’s so good— so fucking good that you can’t think of anything other than the feeling of his mouth pressing at the peak of your breasts, the tight grip of his leather-clad hands at your hips, the way he keens your name when you shift at just the right angle— christ you’re going to walk funny for a week.

some part of you knows he needs it, so you begin cooing sweetly into the top of his head, his whines of agreement muffled by the flesh of your chest, each followed by a sharp movement of your hips, “such a good boy f’ me, John.”

“love the way your mouth feels on my tits, sweet boy.”

“my baby is so brave, huh? takin’ care of those mean men f’ me, yeah?”

the way his hips rock up into yours at the praise, the rut of his flesh into yours hard enough you’ll bruise, means he likes it more than he’ll ever admit.

and as you watch John come deep enough in you it warms up your insides— deep enough you swear you can feel it in your tummy, a part of you whispers that this was a mistake. this relationship is more than you can handle.

after you’ve both settled, still connected in the most intimate way— your hands begin to brush through his hair, pondering where you would go from here.

you look down at him, worries quieting almost instantly. you can’t help but grin at how sweet he looks, nuzzled up to your bare breasts.

the moment is gone when his hands tighten against your hips— you fear he wants to fuck you again.

part of you lights up with need at the very thought, but the more reasonable part of you knows he’ll ruin your insides if you let him.

your thoughts are, again, cut short.

John tugs at a lock of your hair, pulling your attention to him.

he’s peering up at you from his spot on your chest, and you realize his eyes are sharp, the meanness you’ve grown used to mingling with the sky blue, reminding you of a storm rolling in, “you and Jax— you’ll never leave me, right?”

it’s a loaded question, and your heart jumps to your throat, but the smile you force is easy, that sweetness he craves marring your pretty features, “of course not John, you couldn’t get rid of us if you tried.”

your words are followed by a lingering kiss to his false smile, and when he speaks again, that terror you felt at your first encounter rolls heavy down your spine, “good. that’s good, honey. i was scared i would have to lock you both up.”

all you feel is dread, itching it’s way through your brain until it burns.

he knows you’re scared— he can smell it. but you have to know, he’d never hurt you unless you made him.

you, him, and Jaxon— the perfect little family. homelander would do anything for you, for Jaxon. you’re all he has.

the rush of blood in your ears is all you can hear. the trepidation— the fear of what he can do, what he will do— is deafening.

this is all your fault— he’s had you once, and now, he’ll never let you go.

god— what the fuck have you done?

(PART TWO)

[icxxnic]

hello! can you do sfw + nsfw hcs for kazuha?

hiiii ofc!

i’m not sure is that supposed to be gf hcs or no?? so i’ll go with that <3

sfw:

- SUCH A LEWSER zuha so puppy whenever she sees you she becomes all happy and smiley and runs to you immediately to give you a tight hug as if you haven't seen each other forever

- pair keychains and pyjamas for sure. i just know it.

- if you ever mention something you like in a way "ohh that plushie is so cute" be ready to see it in her hands as a gift for you the next day

- she’ll definitely say many times that you are a black cat for golden retriever herself and if you laugh at this… girl pouts so hard you have a feeling that she’ll start to cry any moment if you don’t apologize

- you keep forgetting your umbrella no matter where you go and for the umpteenth time she comes running with it so that you don’t get wet in the rain even if she has to skip her practice for it

- forehead kisses from her and nose kisses from you! it’s a must!!

- likes to wake you up by kissing your cheeks

- wants to get a puppy, but whenever she asks your answer is always the same: "one puppy here is already enough" referring to her

- you always say "ily" back after one time you didn’t just being busy with other things and she was pouty for all day and didn’t even tell you why

- favorite date place? outdoors ofc. a picnic in the park is the best for her

- tries to bake heart shaped cookies for you and even if she fails you still praise her!

- she likes to show you different exercises from gymnastics when there’s a free time

- enthusiastically tells you anything about ballet and you look so interested in it each time the wide smile just can't leave her face

nsfw:

- she’s OBSESSED with your hands. like obv she loves to kiss them if in public and suck on your fingers if you’re somewhere alone.. ALWAYS.

- loves to ride your face whenever she comes home tired as hell late in the night bcs gosh you eat her out so well it’s her fav thing of the day

- if you managed to go to the gym together or decided to go for a regular run….. the moment she saw you in your training shorts she immediately started begging you to fuck her right there in the place 😮‍💨 girl goes feral fr

- really enjoys being tied up

- lace underwear is not her thing but after one time you complimented her only set she started buying more and more to get a lot of compliments from you <3

- ribbon on eyes? yes. on her? yes. she loves it when you fuck her while she can’t see anything

- fingering her while she’s just trying to take a shower after a hard day at work 😫 poor girl keeps whining for a bit until it turns into loud moans from her muffled only by the sound of water

- if there is a day when she stays at home it automatically means that you are staying too no matter what plans you have bc she just misses you n your skilled fingers sm :(

- likes to turn you on by whispering in your ear

- lap dance!! she learned it just for you and for you only even tho she was so shy at first;;; but now it happens quite often

- loves when your hands caress her abs during lazy morning sex

hope it wasn’t too short and met your expectations !

BTW DID YOU SAW UNFORGIVEN? INSAAAANEEE 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫