#which... my neighbors do not need to see that kind of behavior

[melioristicbeast]

More naps for the boys (:

My headcanon is Derek has a beat-up old gameboy color (scratched up, the battery cover's missing, etc) that somehow survived the fire - maybe it was in a storage somewhere.

might line and render this later, but i liked the color combo so you also get this version <3

Dedicated to @renmackree who is the best hypeman, i appreciate you!

[anaalnathrakhs]

...i'm starting to wonder if i wasn't actually pretty often failed by the adults in my life as a young kid tbh.

[dadsbongos]

How the mouthwashinglings fare with a possessive/clingy partner bc i am projecting

~

CURLY

Is it possible to groom a 40 year old man when you’re younger than him?? Probably, and it looks like you did it

No matter how early into your relationship, Curly cannot pick out any reason why his friends are so concerned with you

Honestly he gets annoyed when people question the imaginary leash you’ve got him on

Loves seeing a bajillion (seemingly innocuous) texts from you when he goes out with the guys. A flurry of thoughtless updates of your night and random ideas sandwiched around a not-so innocent “so who’s all there with you?”

I’ve mentioned it before but those little beeper bracelets for couples, he would absolutely wear one even if it was a full blown tracker

Would make excuses for your behavior too: “they’re just anxious! they just really love me! all the attention is kind of nice, actually!”

And god forbid anyone try asking if he’s done anything to make you this way. He firmly denies it, even getting a little offended, but then rationalizes your actions anyway: “people cheat on people all the time, it’s an understandable fear!”

Nobody can get through to him because he clearly loves it

JIMMY

THRIVES!

In a toxic way, though

Intentionally acts out to piss you off because he thinks it’s hot, the idea of what you’ll do to him when you get your hands on him

Turns off his location (which he always thought was immature anyway lol), talks to other people with that cocky grin and dark lidded eyes, tells you that his exes wouldn’t treat him this way

Secretly loves feeling so needed that you’ll die without him, it instills this sense of importance he’s never had before

So when he knows he’s gone way over the line, he’ll really baby you to make up for it

Still talks out of his ass because he’s not that gentle, but will cuddle you and tell you how badly he needs you in his life and how sexy your brand of crazy is

Psycho mfs your neighbors hate you

ANYA

NOT WELL!

Anya is arguably most well-adjusted person when it comes to romance and she can see the walking red-flag that you are

Initially she’ll try working around the little things to keep you happy, thinking if she can do just that then you’ll drop the nitpicking

Would have a deep conversation with you about it before breaking things off, which at THAT point if you just couldn’t resolve things she’d walk away

I can see that happening pretty early in the relationship, maybe even before you two are comfortable just popping up at each other’s places

DAISUKE

Probably similarly possessive, just to a lower key

Fully believes in sharing locations and having access to each other’s phones and telling each other exactly who is going to this party or that dinner

Because he also gets jealous, he actively avoids riling you up rather than instigating it

I can see him being one of those guys that tells you when people try hitting on him, usually when boys do that it comes off shitty but Daisuke is so overt

“Babe, this girl tried asking for my number but I told her I was taken and that she should kill herself!”

Honestly probably a relationship that starts when you’re both still 19-21 range and is not sustainable unless you two mature out of it

SWANSEA

Cannot, will not, does not tolerate that bullshit

He is too fucking old to be playing mind games and arguing with some teeny bopper brat about what bars he’s going to after work

HOWEVER he also doesn’t go anywhere besides work and friendly gatherings and he doesn’t have very many friends SO as long as you can temper it, he may not even notice

But he’s also close with his ex-wife especially because of the kids so you’ve got to get over that and if you can’t, he cuts it off pretty cleanly

Almost like a surgery, he can clinically extract you from his life with practically no emotion before sending you on your way

[spookykoolkat]

nsfw 18+ just porn w no plot LOL

minors do not interact

plus size reader x joel miller drabble

warnings - 18+ only, plus sized reader, described as thick and bigger, breeding kink, p in v without protection (please wrap it up), just explicit content overall !

joel miller appreciates a beautiful woman. what you didn't know, is he also appreciated a beautiful, bigger woman. to think you could ever pull joel miller was beyond you, until it happened. now, joel miller doesn't want anything more than to lay in bed with you to memorize every single freckle, stretch mark, roll, dip, and curve.

you've had selfish lovers, none of which will ever be joel. because joel isn't selfish, in fact he'll put hours into making you feel good and won't let you be on your knees to take him in for more than 5 minutes.

"baby," you whined, pressed up against the wall of his brothers bedroom. it was supposed to be a barbecue, house warming type of party for the neighbors and the close friends. he swore he would be on his best behavior, nothing to not focus on the fact that tommy and maria will be welcoming a little girl in less than two months.

his lips are on your neck, kissing and sucking as his hands squeeze at every part of you. he couldn't focus. how could he? he's still a man at the end of the day. and to see you in a dress that hugged at your waist and flowed down your hips, stopping at your upper thigh—he's still a man.

"i gotta feel you baby, i promise i'll make it quick okay? please baby? can ya let me make my sweet girl cum? need to see that pretty face, feel how needy that little cunt is f'me," he slurred, drunk off your scent and already letting his fingers slide up your thigh and feeling the wet spot forming on your panties.

something about you drove him crazy over and over again. and he's reminded every time he's around you. you're so fucking nice. you would do anything for anyone you loved, you hand made gifts for people when you couldn't afford much, you cooked for people and offered to clean their houses when they couldn't — something you didn't need to do. but wanted to.

so kind, thinking of others, nervous and antsy, and somehow you managed to settle right here with joel between your legs. how did he get so lucky? to have a woman who would put up with his trust issues and hesitation of meeting new people? to think of others and not what they could do to harm you instead.

you loved joel's fingers. you loved joel. especially when he made you feel beautiful over and over again, when he knew how to touch you and where exactly to touch you. like now, as his finger tips slowly stroke your clit with your slick, he watches you. it's his favorite thing to do.

"yeah, baby i know, i know," he whispers, a small smirk playing on his open mouthed lips, his cock throbbing painfully the more you contort your face and moan for him.

his favorite thing? to watch you cum. it's the moment it begins to peak for you, and your eyes start to flutter close even as he tells you to watch him.

"look at me baby, don't close those pretty eyes, i need to see ya cum for me, cum around my fingers," he breathes heavily, his fingers dipping inside your tight hole that never fails to make him gasp.

joel could let you stay on his fingers until the end of time, feeling how your slick drips down his hand and makes the filthiest of noises, letting him know it was all his. your eyes always pulled him in, and easily he could read the pleasure all over your face.

your eyes struggled to stay open, fluttering and yearning for him to make you release all over him. all you had to do was look into his eyes — the lust, the admiration, the adoration, everything he felt for you was on display and you felt it. his lips turned upwards as he noticed the glisten in your eyes, silently begging him.

"you're everything i need, you know that right? you were fucking made for me, sugar," your hands flew into his grown out hair and tugged.

"fuck me, joel please, please," you gasped, feeling your stomach turn as your release comes quickly, until he slips his fingers out of you and grabs you, pushing you onto the bed bent over.

"baby, it hurts," you cry, gripping the sheets as your cunt throbs and aches from the neglected orgasm. you craved it, you would've done anything to cum for him.

joel couldn't help but smile as he tugged down his jeans and boxers, releasing his painfully aching cock.

you were his, undoubtedly. the sweetest girl, kindest, most generous and selfless person, his sunshine. you were all his, and no one will ever get to see you the way he does, not like this. he knew it, you knew it. you knew he ruined you for anyone else.

"i'll make it feel better, sweetheart, i promise, let me feel ya," his hands grabbed at the thickness around your waist, squeezing and rubbing as he lands a few taps on your ass.

he didn't bother to tease you anymore, his cock prodding at your sopping hole that he couldn't get enough of. after every time you've let him inside of you, the stretch he gave was just like the first time.

you cried out for him, whining for him to fuck you how he wanted, to make you feel good and for someone who was such a sweet, shy girl—something in joel brought it out of you.

he slid his length fully into you, groaning at the feeling of your ass pressed against him, covering his bottom half fully and having your tight cunt wrapped around him. his urge to fuck you until you knew you were never going anywhere without him caught up to him.

"oh, oh fuck baby," he groaned, pulling almost completely out until you took a breath, and slammed himself back into your cervix. if you were trying to keep it quiet now, you failed.

luckily for you, upstairs wasn't crowded as it was downstairs with the music, the people, the drunks.

your cries and moans only turned him on more, the way your dress rode up your ass and to your thick waist, how you practically laid and gave yourself to him how he wanted. for some reason, he'd never felt more primal than he did now. he wanted to claim you, to keep you, and the pure thought of ever being fucking stupid enough to lose you to another man only makes him desperate for you to know that.

he slips out of you for a moment, making you whine as he flips you over and crawls right between your plentiful thighs to spread you open and see all of you.

"pretty fuckin' pussy, look at ya, fuckin' cryin' f'me, got such a wet cunt and it's cause of how much you want this cock," he boasts, moving his hand from your thigh to your chest, squeeze your breasts as he goes down to rub over the stomach you tended to hide more often than not, just to reach your throbbing clit.

"baby, please, i can't, y-you said it would be quick," you said breathless, hoping to catch a breather before you feel his massive length practically in your throat. he never failed to make you feel good, and you loved him for it.

his fingers gathered your slick between the fat of your lips and slid them up to your clit, rubbing firm circles as he watched you shut your eyes and cry again. he loved how sensitive you were, how vulnerable you were.

"guess i'm a bad man for lyin' huh? let me make it up to you, let me make this little cunt feel good, yeah baby? how's that sound? you can have your cock in my little cunt," he grunted as he slid back inside of you, still rubbing on your sore nub.

your eyes opened up to the ceiling of tommy and maria's bedroom, looking around in a haze to see photos and framed pictures of the family, of you and joel. he was yours too. all of him was yours and it didn't help the situation between your legs. but you couldn't refocus until joel grabbed your cheeks and turned your head to face him, pressing his body into yours with your legs on his shoulders.

"answer me baby, how's this cock feel in this tight fuckin' pussy?" he groaned as he bucked his hips fully into you, sliding out and thrusting harder. you couldn't speak, actually. your voice was caught in your throat, it was unbelievably erotic how he had you folded in half as he pounded your cunt until it was sore.

"f-feel, feels, mmugh, feels-," your eyes did it again, they fluttered and went blurry as you tried to keep eye contact with joel, but it was almost impossible. he had you stuck by your cheeks gripping your jaw, pounding all of himself into an angled position.

"fuck baby, this is my fuckin' pussy, you know that? all. fuckin'. mine." he almost growled, he nearly sounded like he was angry trying to claim you.

you could only barely nod, nothing but whines and desperate moans flowing from your lips. ones you couldn't even control if you wanted to. the sound of his cock slipping in and out of your count drew you mad, throbbing around his length was what was telling him you were close.

"what if i filled this pretty pussy up, huh? let me bust my load inside of this sloppy cunt? you want me t'put a baby in this tummy, mama?" he was spurring himself on, the thought of you pregnant with his child was too inviting he couldn't deny himself.

it did something to you too. your cunt spasmed around his cock before you could even register what was happening, and you let out a stressed cry, a moaning mess as you gushed over him.

it was enough force to nearly push him out of your hole, but he kept up with his pace as he smiled and fucked you even harder, faster and with more passion.

"you fuckin' liked that, yeah? i know you want me t' knock ya up, let everybody know you're carryin' my fuckin' kid, i'm the one who did this, baby." you were chanting his name incessantly, scratching at his skin and legs shaking as his cock became too much for your abused pussy.

"please, cum in me, breed me, fill me up, need it, wanna be pregnant for you, put a baby in me," you were slurring, and you pulled his hand from your cheeks and stuck your tongue out, putting his two fingers in your mouth and sucking. he almost went insane, watching you wrap your mouth around his fingers the way you do when you take his cock on your knees.

he's overly obsessed with you. he'd kill for you. he'd die for you. he'd sacrifice his entire world for you, if it meant you were his.

"you'd be such, fuck sweetheart fuck, such a pretty fuckin' mama," he whined into your ear as he leaned down and left kisses on your cheek.

he felt his balls tighten up, his thrusts getting sloppy and sloppier as his pants and moans become whinier.

"please, please give me your cum, make me a mama, please," you cried, feeling your own release creeping up your spine again. you moved his fingers to your clit, and he sat on his knees as he spread your legs again, finding your clit and rubbing sloppily as he finally released inside of you.

you felt the warmth of his cum spreading inside of you, rope after rope of him sticking to your warm walls, and combined with his sloppy fingers it made your cunt tighten, a sharp and short release finding you again.

joel groaned at the feeling, making sure he fucked his cum into you as you climaxed again and making sure it sticks.

he stayed inside of you a while, just looking at you and your figure, the way your eyes struggled to stay open long enough to keep eye contact with him. he was in love with you, he didn't see how anyone couldn't be.

joel moves again and you whine, eyes meeting his as he apologizes. "sorry baby, i'm just hopin' i see a little version of us runnin' around in approximately nine months."

you sheepishly laugh, moaning when he finally slips out of you and spreads your cunt to see a mixture of your cum leaking out of your hole.

"please come clean me up so we can go home and fuck in our own bed. and we need to burn these sheets. maria is going to hate me if she finds out i got pregnant in her house."

thanks 4 reading i know i havent posted in forever but i couldn't get this out of my mind because joel miller is a fat girl worshipper and i will die on that hill. okay thanks 4 everything pls like and share :p

[thatbitchery]

There's a common misconception among level up and success circles about the kind of woman that achieves her goals. When I go through female level up spaces often I see the Amal Clooney Lori Harvey type characters in the pictures and it's because that's the kind of woman most women aspire to be. When I talk to girls about what they want to be it's always Skinny Clear Skin Hot Always Put Together Hardworking Follows a Strict Routine type, and that's why you're stuck and stunted in your journey. This is why you won't achieve anything. Because that's not real. That's not real at all I'm sorry and that's why I say most of these girls on these spaces are downright lying to you so you need to look at the world around you and the one inside you and realized no you're not stupid no you're not dumb no youre not that unique or special and the life you live is the life hundreds if not thousands of women have lives like yours so no you're not isolated in this and you should just use your brain. Like respectfully, learn to think for yourself instead of guzzling up information you get online like an empty vessel. Think. At least try to.

I am INCREDIBLY successful and I know this for a fact because I achieved all my goals before I hit 25, and then some more. I had a depressive episode back there when I started this blog because I had no motivation to do anything because I already did everything I wanted so what's even left to do? And the paradox is when I was still chasing my dreams is when I looked successful the most, Yves Saint Laurent and Chanel and Dior make up, and now I just don't care that much for it. The person I was at 20 is literally supreme I was waking up at 4 am and doing a full face make up and walking these streets in Louboutin's in winter then yesterday I took a walk in sandals and shorts and a bun no make up no nothing. And it made sense why girls in these spaces chase aesthetics so much, because you feel like that's what success is placed to look like and you feel like okay looking a certain way is half od it, but it's not. I recently watched this video by a billionaire heiress (The name is Albina something on YT) and she said how when her family was almost bankrupt she was posting in chanel and Armani every ten seconds then when they made their billions back she couldn't care less. Which ties to the Anna Delvey paradox of how she'd run around in H&M and had billionaires and people fooled. My husband and I were at a networking summer event thing hosted by his office and there's this one person I wanted to be friends with so bad I'd commit crimes for it that has such a stake in the spaces I'm in and we were introduced bla bla and I remember him pointing out a lady with a Birkin and saying that's the one he'd take home for the night, bring to a cruise and then ghost because it was obvious she was hungry for status because who brings a Birkin to a fun networking event? That's Monaco escort behavior the real ladies that were secure in themselves and positions didn't come to compete for social class. A hypergamy lady n Instagram said that Chanel jacket (God i hate it SO MUCH) is getting you escort profiled, like the chin fillers and lip injections. You walk in the affluent areas and usually couples that are matched are very average looking the bombshell platinum blondes with BBLS are usually with Donald Trump type oldies. My husband's neighbor is a polish couple that looks so painfully average Priscilla Zuckerberg and husband look vogue worthy. When my husband and I met I was wearing a plain asf blue Ralph Lauren sweater and nameless pants and a tote bag not dior tote like the instagram totes that look like they cost 0.003 $ to make and push back braids and nothing else.

Why am I telling you all these?

Aesthetics are a measure of how insecure you are. When I was 20 during covid and I'd just come from whatever tf high school was surviving by staying lowkey and being the power in silence I was secure in myself because everyone around me was by all means , and by birth and upbringing, better than me and I'd found my space in that, then went back home and felt the need to prove to everyone I am successful and bought a car renovated the house all that donated to the local school was slaying in covid looking like a rich k-drama housewife plunging through my money knowing now I have no source of it because I was insecure and anted everyone to know actually yes I did make it. Hair done 24/7 broke quarantine to get a facial throwing money around like all and no I didnt go bankrupt but damn I blew up so much and for what? And then came back with almost no money staring from almost zero again dripping in YSL and coco Chanel and full glam in summer sun and the perfect social media posts.

There's a lady in my church that gives me so much pressure just by the way she exists. And she's so- simple. Sunday she came in a simple linen set and hair in a simple low ponytail and natural nails clear gel perpendicular to that chair and I was just thinking JESUS I want to be her so much. Such effortless elegance. Yet she bikes around and brings her 'tacky' Stanley cup and has this one suede bag (I have BEGGED her for the brand holy gatekeeping) that she brings everywhere and this cheappp mint gum that I tried once and almost threw up. She gives me so much pressure I. When I see her I immediately check my posture and think maybe I overdid it with the leather bag? She has that laid back Kerry Washington confidence and she's so plain looking? There's a lady in my gym that I'm conmsidering just giving free coahing and lessons to because? Platinum bleach blonde extensions that I know for a FACT are ruining your hair ma'am. And she's so- perfect- but no. It's just- I feel bigger next to her. By textbook definition she's what makes it to the thumbnails of those female level up videos but ? ?? I just don't feel it. And I've been thinking about it because when I was 20 she would have given me so much pressure and I'd be thinking maybe I need a new Dior palette?

Achieving your goals does have a lot to do with how you look I will not lie BUT on today's episode of I know what I want to say but don't know how to say it, PLEASE stop listening to these people and just think about it. Just think about it. I tell my girls to ditch the designers and go thrifting for no name brands because that Bulgari isn't sending the message you're thinking it does. And obviously I lost the plot of what I was going to say BUT i still stand by what I said. Even if it's not what I was going to say.

WHAT i was going to say is more often than not that has nothing to do with how successful you are and then give you a How_To_Actually_Be_Succesful list. Which would've been choose 3 things you want to work on and forget the rest. Washing your face 3 times is stripping you of natural oils and will not make you a millionaire, and neither will waking up at 4 am? So much of that information is so mepty which is why you need to learn to think for yourself. "MiLLiOnaiRE HaBitS" lol no no one is doing all that stop. Open a business work on what does any of that have to do with working out at 5 am? Millionaires are made by businesses not investing and not drinking chia? Clear minds are made by reducing the noise input ie delete social media do NOT keep up with current affairs what does waking up that early have to do with any of it? So much of the information out there is so much trash and GOD I'm glad I wasn't watching Iman Ghanzi at 20 bc I tried watching it and I was like do you hate your followers? Then turns out he sells courses so ah ok I get it now it makes sense. EsCapE tHe MaTrix lol dominate the matrix why would you leave a controlled space for whatever is out there? ManiFeSt please stop. Set a schedule follow it. Gosh. Y'all will do EVERYTHING but what really matters

OPEN A BUSINESS non one cares which one just do it?

CLEAR YOUR MIND why is your screentime 8 hours and 6 are from social media? Do you not like yourself? God forbid you have an original thought?

GO OUTSIDE. Pick up a hobby that demands being ouside. Skate or something. '

MOVE YOUR BODY and eat gut healthy food and practise IF?

HAVE PEOPLE.

Buy Me A Coffee

[axxxx13]

Okay, so, I have this little headcanon.

Liam is very good at medical stuff.

Take my hand and follow me.

We know that Liam has IED and we don't know anything about his father: the two things are probably related. We also know that it was David, his stepfather, who introduced him to lacrosse and we know that Liam is very good at it which implies that he has been playing since he was little. From this we know that Liam had behavioral problems long before the official diagnosis (which was given to him after he was expelled from Devenford).

Knowing all this it is very likely that when Liam was little he spent a lot of time in the hospital (for example after school) since both David and his mother (I like to think she is a nurse and that's how she met David) have very long shifts and maybe they don't trust Liam to be cared for by neighbors/babysitters since without the diagnosis he just seemed like a rather unpredictable child.

And so Liam spent a lot of time in the hospital and like all the nurses would check on him every now and then and maybe David would show him stuff. He was like "the hospital kid".

And so growing up, even if he could stay home alone/go out maybe sometimes he was still in the hospital just because he was used to it and maybe after the transformation he also asks David to teach him some things that could help the pack in case of need.

I also think that the reason why we never see him in this situation is that Liam is not the one they count on for this kind of stuff and also he is very afraid of doing something wrong/hurting someone and so he always takes a step back.

Little bonus (of a fanfic I'm writing so it's not even a headcanon anymore), the first to find out this thing is obviously Theo.

Like after the battle Theo is injured (you can clearly see that he was shot but it's probably even more serious) but knowing how he is he tries to downplay it or leave but Liam forces him to get help.

But of course Theo is Theo and so he would never stay in the hospital, let alone let a doctor he's never seen touch/help him.

And so Liam takes him home and kind of (with David's help probably) stitches him up and manages to calm him down and maybe manages to convince him to get some anesthesia/sedative (even though Theo hates being so helpless).

And Theo is obviously shocked because there's Liam with a fucking needle in his hand stitching him up and take care of him and doing it well and so, yeah I like to think that Liam is less clueless/naive than everyone thinks most of the time.

[thislovintime]

Photo by Nurit Wilde.

“When they shot them down at Kent State, that was the end of the flower-power era. That was it. You throw your flowers and rocks at us, man, and we’ll just pull the guns on you. Essentially, the revolution, which was sort of tolerated as long as it wasn’t a significant material threat, was not tolerated anymore. And everybody went ‘Ooops’ and scurried for cover and licked their wounds. They became isolated – which was the point of it all. 'Togetherness isn’t going to get it’ was the moral they tried to lay on us, because the less togetherness there is, the more room there is for exploitation. Kent State was an attempt. Let’s try this and see what happens. And what happened was the shooting and vast inflation and a swing to the right — the moral majority. The whole thing was inherent in the situation. A certain amount of loosening up, a certain amount of extra leisure, and people are going to try to improve their lot instead of just barely hanging on. If you had a little extra you’re going to try to make everything better. And if you see that your own happiness, or the lack of it, is tied in with the sadness of your neighbor, you’re going to start feeling communal. And that’s going to expand until the crunch comes. As long as people are educated to believe that isolated self-interest is the only way to go, when the crunch comes they’ll withdraw from each other. And only now, in the faintest glimmerings, do I see any sense that people are realizing that togetherness and flower power alone won’t get it. It’s got to be togetherness, flower power, plus a willingness to do something pretty stern from time to time. If you’re not willing to behave sternly, people who won’t stop short of stern behavior are going to keep on going. It’s taken a while for that message to sink in.” - Peter Tork, When The Music Mattered (1984) Q: “How do you think the 60s differ from today?” Peter Tork: “I think we are going to see a re-run of a lot of the same effort of that time. But I think it’s going to be real. I think the 60s kind of ‘All You Need Is Love,’ flower power and all that, was disproven. Kent State showed us the truth of that. I think it was a critical attempt that had to be tried or else we’d be kicking ourselves wondering why we hadn’t tried it. But we’re not going to be fooled again. Flowers and guns, head to head and there’s no question who’s gonna walk off with the goods. It was a very difficult lesson that we had to learn. Now we have to face people head to head and not everybody’s going to come out of this one alive. There was a chance before but J.F.K. said it: ‘Those who make peaceful revolution impossible make violent revolution inevitable.’ And an awful lot of power hungry people knew they had to get their guns out to protect what they thought was theirs. God takes away from you what you have to have. What you will hang on to at any cost will be ripped away from you. Ripped. And if you hold on so tight that you can’t let go, your arms are going to be wrenched out of their sockets. This is not my will. This is a law. Like the law of gravity. It’s going to happen.” - Columbia Daily Spectator, April 2, 1982

[scary-grace]

Guitarist!Tomura actually has me in a chokehold so a gc would be nice I just need to work up the courage LMAO

Guitarist!Tomura also has me in a chokehold, which is why it took me so long to write a follow-up! I really love him in this AU so there may be more to come.

“Okay, now that we’re done laughing at Shigaraki, first things first —”

“Laughing at Tomura-kun is the first thing,” Toga says. Dabi glares at her. “Don’t make that face! If I was singing love duets through the wall with my neighbor, you guys would never let me live it down.”

“Nobody gets to live that down. That is not cool band guy behavior,” Twice announces from behind the drum set. Then, like always, he changes his tune. “Don’t worry, Shigaraki! I think it’s sweet!”

“I think we should never talk about it again,” Tomura mutters. He turns to Dabi. “You were saying something, right?”

“Yeah,” Dabi says. “First things first. Does anybody have any new songs?”

The band always needs new songs, and everyone’s supposed to bring one to practice. In theory they should always have something cooking. In reality, they get a new song maybe every six practices, and only some of those are good. They’d be better if anybody liked taking feedback on their lyrics. But they don’t.

“I have one,” Spinner says, “but —”

“Is it about being a true artist and not whoring yourself out to the Spotify algorithm?” Dabi doesn’t wait for an answer. “No.”

“We could use it if we metaphor it a bit,” Spinner protests. He passes a piece of paper to Tomura. “Look.”

Tomura scans the lyrics. He likes some of Spinner’s phrasing, and the song structure works, but he can see a few too many lines about standing apart from the machine. And Spinner’s not the only one who writes like that. “Why don’t we just do a whole LP around that? Give it some characters and a plotline and then it’s not just an album. It’s a story arc.”

“You think we can pull that off?” Toga looks up, interested. “What about a love story?”

“No.”

“Hey, that could work!” Twice taps the kick drum for emphasis. “Like, think about it! The protagonists are falling in love amidst the machines and then they have to defeat them if they want to be together!”

“There’s no way we can pull that off,” Tomura says. Twice ignores him, and he looks to Dabi for help. “If we’re going to do a concept album, let’s do an album about a concept we actually understand.”

“Nobody’s going to listen to us if we’re just complaining about the system,” Dabi says. “We need a hook. The love story’s a hook.”

“Then one of us had better figure out how to write love songs,” Spinner says. “Because we all kind of suck at it.”

Dabi looks like he’s thinking about it, and Tomura wonders, like he does every so often, why he decided to let Dabi project-manage the band he started. “Okay,” Dabi says finally. “We’re calling practice for today. No more practice until everybody has at least one song to share.”

“Oh, come on —”

“How much of a song do we need to have?” Toga interrupts Tomura.

“At least two verses and a chorus. Instrumentation optional,” Dabi decides. There goes Tomura’s plan to weasel out of this by coming up with a melody and chord progression and calling it good. “Text the group chat when you’ve got something.”

Everybody else starts packing up their instruments, like this is settled or something. Tomura came up with the stupid concept album idea. He’s the one who has to put the brakes on. “We can’t just not practice,” he says. “We have shows booked next month.”

“So you’d better get writing, then.”

“Yeah. More writing, less singing to your neighbor through the wall,” Spinner says. Tomura glares at him. “Maybe you can write a song about that.”

Tomura will write a song about that when hell freezes over. But he needs to write something, or the band’s not going to practice at all before their first gigs of the school year. A concept album about humans falling in love while standing up to the machine or the man or whatever. This is going to be a nightmare.

When Tomura gets home, his neighbors are just as noisy as ever, except for you. You’re quiet. Are you even home? Tomura tries to write, but it’s hard to focus when he’s so busy listening. He’s still not sure if you heard him singing along with you, but what if you did, and you got so embarrassed that you’re never going to sing again? If someone had told Tomura this morning that he’d be upset that one of his neighbors wasn’t making noise, he’d have told them they were out of their mind.

And then he hears it, just past midnight — quiet humming from the other side of the wall, a tune that’s vaguely familiar. This time, when the words pick up, Tomura doesn’t sing along. He just listens as you mumble your way through the first verse of The Last Shadow Puppets’ Miracle Aligner. “Often the humble kind, but he can’t deny he was born to blow your mind — or something along those lines —”

It’s not Tomura’s favorite song from that band, but given that you like the band enough to get their songs stuck in your head, your taste in music is at least decent. Tomura won’t be able to decide if it’s actually good until he hears you sing a few more songs. And speaking of a few more songs — Tomura picks up his pen again and scrawls out a single lyric across the top of the page. Screw a concept album, for now at least. He just has to start somewhere.

One lyric turns into another, turns into a verse and the start of a chorus. Tomura writes until two am, your voice brushing softly against his ear.

<- part 1

[r0-boat]

Instinct

Male! Dragon! OC x AFAB!gn!reader

Feat: Yandere OC Silas

Cw: possessive behavior, yandere character, mentions of murder, mentions of blood, animalistic behavior, biting, claiming bite.

NSFW

Thank you @devotion-disorder for this lovely art piece I'm so glad I commissioned you!!

You smell good.

So good.

Your Skin;

So Soft to the touch,

smooth and unblemished,

just begging for a mate to pin you down and sink his fangs into. Your mere presence was tempting.

Silas knew full well that as the months got warmer and the snow melted, more primal desires started to call to him. An animalistic need that demanded satisfaction. However, a Duke dub Cedric from a neighboring kingdom invited him to a ball and offered he could not refuse even if he wanted to. The Duke was kind enough to Grant him a plus-one, and now, standing before you in an outfit that the maids and tailor specifically prepared for you, how the woven silk fabric hugged every part of your body, oh, how he wishes he could forget that stupid party and rip your outfit in two and ravish you right here in this carriage.

His hungry eyes did not go unnoticed by you. Even now, as elegant and princely as he looked, Silas looked like a caged, starving animal. His eyes were only on you the entire night, even as other more elegant women wine and flaunted their bodies to get his attention, only to clutch their pearls in frustration when the prince only had eyes for you.

Silently stalking behind you like your shadow glaring down upon you like a premium steak on his plate ready to devour you.

But Silas held back his urges for the sake of his reputation, as all Noble eyes were on him. He stopped following you around like a lost puppy and began mingling with Sir Cedric. Talks of trade business gossip from other kingdoms were a much-needed but small distraction from the burning in his core, but now and then, he would sneak a little glances at you. His pupils waning into slits as he watched the other attendants stare at you with the same hungry eyes he had been.

Veins rush with adrenaline when one of the Nobles who had been eyeing you gets the courage to approach you.

The conversation becomes background noise as he tries to concentrate on what that man is saying to you, glaring daggers at the noble, making you smile and chuckle. The dragon in him hissed and snarled, becoming more and more restless. To it, you are an unclaimed potential mate being pursued by a rival.

Silas feels his claws threatening to rip out of his gloves. He clutches his fist with images of the noble's blood painting the walls of the ballroom, Imagining the taste of his flesh on his tongue. He quickly storms out as the Duke is still talking to him.

You look over to see Silas approaching the both of you.

Eyes burning with fury, be prepared yourself for a gruesome site only for it to never come.

" Excuse me, gentlemen, my apologies for interrupting your conversation, but I believe I asked this lovely person to dance with me."

Silas said politely, eyes still burned with a jealous rage that you were all too familiar with. A small, gentle smile on his face, Which only made him more unsettling. And his hand ever so gently stroking your hip, has he pulled you closer to him.

The man, a kind soul, really, took the hint. If he were to stay within your presence any longer than he'd had, this Prince would make him disappear.

"Ah, Sorry, Your Highness, I hadn't realized they were taken already."

Yes, taken… They are mine

A shiver goes down your spine when your eyes meet his, giving off a slight draconic glow of violet piercing into your very soul.

As you danced with him, his hold around you was tight, and his touch was borderline sensual as he caressed your parts in ways along with notice. You flushed, knowing that you couldn't do anything while Silas was feeling your body in public. Even as you try to look away, he moves his head to keep your eyes on him.

"Don't look away from me." He whispered a husky, demanding tone, his thumb gently pressing against your bottom lip as he forced your head back to him. His thumbs wipes across your bottom lip. His fang sinks into his, Imagining the taste of your lips upon his

"Eyes on me, dear."

With the last of his self-control, he lasted from the dance the carriage ride home, letting out a low-throated purr, seeing your small body sat pretty in his lap, his large veiny hand underneath your clothes grasping at your bare thigh. He stayed eerily quiet even as you tried to talk to him. He'd only give one-word answers or hums, his mind thinking of only one thing. His gaze focused on your unblemished neck, shoulders, and collarbone. You feel his hand squeeze your plush thigh, fingers dipping dangerously close to your core. Silas's breath tickles your neck, gently pressing kisses up until he nibbles on your ear. Finally, he whispers.

" As soon as we get out of this carriage, you are coming into my bed tonight. Do you understand?" He smiles as he sees you nod obediently.

When the carriage finally does stop as at his Castle, he immediately has you in his arms, carrying you like a bride, to his chambers, throwing you onto his large bed, going back to the door to lock it.

When you sit up, you see him breathing heavily, his face flushed red, looking back at you with that familiar, hungry look. Silas slowly begins to peel off his clothing one by one as he makes his way closer to the bed to you.

"Do you know what you do to me?" A growl rips from his throat, now half naked, his fingers playing with his belt.

" all night, as I suffer, you sit pretty looking up at others with those big doe eyes.

He creeps closer, hands pressing against the mattress as he leans into your face.

" walking around and then gorgeous outfit men drooling over you like panting dogs. Unaware of who has already claimed you.

He caresses your cheek before his hand slides down, grabbing the collar of your outfit. Pulling you downward, your forehead rested against his.

"Strip."

Claws dug into the fabric. If this weren't off in five seconds, it would be torn off your body.

He watched you slowly shimming out of your outfit. With each delicious amount of skin exposed, he touched and caressed.

Your thighs, your hips, your stomach, your chest. The Prince couldn't keep his hands off you. He could barely hold back when he pressed you into the mattress, a hand secured firmly around your throat.

Fingers trail down your stomach, slipping beneath your undergarments. Thick fingers press. Play with your core. Pressing gently at your tight entrance, fondling your walls, listening to the sweet sounds of your insides as he stirs them. He releases your neck, caressing your cheek as he leans down to taste your lips. His breath shakes as he goes down for another. His tongue is sliding into your mouth as he deepens the kiss, his fingers tangling in your hair pulling you deeper. He presses his entire naked body against you. You could feel how hard he was straining his pants.

"I want you."

His voice shakes in desperation

"I want to be the only man you look at.

"I want to claim you as mine, to make it so everyone knows who you belong to."

His hand slips to his belt, undoing it, while remaining eye contact.

" I need to be inside you,"

He keeps looking at your core, licking his lips.

" But first, it has been a while since I've tasted you. Let me make you feel good."

Grabbing your ass, he lifts your lower half with ease. He lets out a feral growl as he goes down onto your core, eating you like a starved beast. His eager tongue tastes all of you because he puts his whole mouth on your little body. Lewd noises of his lips slurping your wetness fill the room, which only turns him on more, his feral growls turning into whimpering moans, grinding his hips against nothing in particular. You clenched the bed sheets, wailing and trembling, your body trying its best to squirm away from the intense pleasure only for him to hold you tighter.

You were not getting away from him.

Silas needed to make you cum to taste your essence on his tongue. He needed to feel that satisfaction of knowing that no other man could make you feel the way he feels.

His eyes rolled back when your hand tangled in his hair, pulling on his long jet locks as you braced yourself for your own orgasm. He holds his mouth in place, drinking every last drop of you. Finally, finishing his meal, he drops you like a rag doll, wiping his mouth with his hand before licking his fingers. He was no longer a man at that point, with only one thing on his mind: he flips you over, a firm hand on the back of your neck, pressing you down. He slipped his cock out of his pants, his big hand manhandling your ass open. Your entrance is wet enough with the saliva, cum, and juices, even with his vast draconic cock. He forced himself inside with one motion, mounting you like an animal. You felt his breath already against your ear as he put his hand around your throat. His pace was rough and relentless, grinding his hips with each thrust, trying to drill as deep as he could.

"Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine! All mine!"

He repeats like a mantra. You can feel the tip of his dick pressing against the sweet spot inside you, making you clench around his thick rigid shaft feeling every monstrous and inhuman ridge on his dragon cock. His cock felt hot, threatening to burn you out from the inside. You cum again on his cock. Silas is lost and in pleasure, mercilessly fucking you through your orgasm. He removes his hand from your throat, snaking it till around your mouth, muffling your sweet screams when you feel his teeth sink into your neck, his sharp, beastly fangs piercing, breaking your skin as the taste of your blood feels his mouth; he explodes inside you, his whole body is shaking the sheer pleasure making tears well up in his eyes. His hips still as he grinds every last drop deep inside you, claiming you for himself, claiming you in the most primal way any man can. You go limp into his arms, and he catches you, supporting your entire body in his arms. Silas, in a daze licking the new wound on the back of your neck, gently suckling the red liquid from the new mark; his cock throbbed deep inside you, still hard, and his body still felt hot.

"I need more."

[bumblingbabooshka]

In your opinion, do Vulcan children have teddies (stuffed animals)?

YES!!!

Stuffed animals and other security items would be good for Vulcan children...I can imagine many small children needing them when they first learn how to meditate. They can also be used as a sort of 'anchor' so they are able to stay calm in unfamiliar situations. I can also imagine they would be used to express emotions without having to attribute them to themselves Ex: "[Toy] feels sad because you ate the last cookie." and a parent could then help the child through that emotion via them both teaching 'the bear' what to do when 'it' feels sad. This way the child feels like they're also helping rather than feeling like they're being lectured. Toys are, I imagine, one of the first things that we learn to take care of and be kind towards. As a child it's probably one of the few things we feel is under 'our care' or control. I imagine how children treat toys is observed carefully...it can be a good outlet (a child may rant to a toy when they don't like something while remaining composed in the situation itself) but also if a child is consistently violent with toys it may be indicative of an emotional issue. Creativity, imagination, and play are also not things which seem to conflict with Vulcan adherence to logic. Play is very important for children and I imagine it's often used to make sense of the world around them or what they feel (Ex: Playing 'House') I imagine you can often see Vulcan children playing by mimicking violent or emotional behavior and then scolding the toy for being violent...you can't hit! You have to take deep breaths and meditate. Oh no, [toy] is crying! Don't cry, you must calm down! Or they might play by exploring new ideas and desires through the realm of fantasy with a familiar object, the toy. Toys are also useful (I imagine, I'm not a psychologist just reflecting on my own experiences) for building a sense of self in a way...during the course of play you can discover what you like and don't like, what calms you down and what intrigues you. You can also learn how to interact with others through games and play as a child. Lessons like how to share, how to work together, how to include others in your world...very important! So yes, I think that toys and play are important - especially for a species which is inherently very emotional. Vulcan Children probably have much less control than adults do and require more tangible methods of calming down, understanding/confronting their emotions etc. Now I'm imagining a 'growing up' ritual wherein children decide they're too old for their toys and ready to give them up. They then work to emotionally detach themselves from them. At the end of this process the children give the toys to someone else (a sibling, a friend, a neighbor, or just donating them)

[coffindependency]

i’ve seen some people say that ashley is kind of an extreme portrayal of mental illness(es), but, from my own experience…. she’s actually a very real portrayal. all of her possessiveness, her mood swings, her dependency on andrew, her choice to not think too long about super traumatizing shit, her impulsiveness; all of those are very normal, very accurate ways mental illnesses and other disorders manifest

(andrew also shows Many signs of mental illness(es) and disorders, and so does their mom, but that’s not what this post is about!!)

i’m not going to try to diagnose her or anything, and i’ll try to keep my headcanons to myself, but i believe we can all tell that the way she thinks and acts is not exactly healthy for her or the people around her. she’s harmful to herself, andrew, and a lot of others. there’s genuinely So Much that has influenced the way she is, i kind of don’t even know where to start

she wasn’t “born evil,” like her mom says. she isn’t even “evil,” she just… doesn’t really understand. that’s not a bad thing!! she doesn’t understand what’s wrong with her behavior, because no adult ever taught her. no adult ever cared enough to make sure she learned how to treat people nicely. no adult ever paid attention to her harmful behavior and tried to correct it. we see that ashley has been kind of an asshole from a very early age, and she’s always been pretty blunt with her thoughts and feelings. she hasn’t ever felt the need to sugar-coat things, to spare other’s feelings. aside from andrew, nobody has ever been genuinely nice to her, or spared her feelings, so why should she bother?

similarly, she doesn’t lie too often, unlike andrew. she doesn’t like pretending, especially not with him. she says in game, during dinner with their parents, that she can’t “keep up” with andrew’s lies. we only really see her lie of her own accord once, and she doesn’t donit very convincingly.

she doesn’t really care about anything that doesn’t concern her or andrew, which is like. The Most logical path for her feelings to take. andrew is the only person that she’s ever known who cares about her. he’s been by her side for her entire life. her parents, her neighbors, and her friends have done wrong by her, and have been driven away by her… Her. except for andrew. (we’re ignoring the chapter two decay route for this). he’s been there through everything. he’s cared when no one else has. he’s seen her at her worst and her best moments. again, no adult taught her about caring, or pretending to care. she doesn’t feel the need to mask like andrew does, and she doesn’t have a want to “fit in” to a society that has failed her and her brother. she’s been treated as an outsider for her whole life, so she probably believes she’ll never “fit in,” she’ll never be accepted, and she doesn’t need to fit in or be accepted by them.

she greatly values loyalty in her friends. we see her act this way with andrew, with nina, and with julia. she sees people chosing others over her as a betrayal. other than andrew, no one has ever chosen ashley first. that upsets her!! that would upset anyone, but it especially upsets her because no one has ever chosen her first. her parents gave andrew all of their attention, but not her. her two friends have betrayed their friendship and put andrew above her. in game, she says it herself: she should be the top priority. with every encounter, every back-and-forth, every relationship, every decision, she’s waiting to be pushed aside. she’s waiting to be discarded. with andrew, she’ll do anything in her power to make sure he doesn’t leave her, either.

i think that it’s really interesting that she really is her worst self with andrew. she’s mean, she’s violent, she’s petty and crass and acts very childish, but she generally feels safe with him. she feels comfortable with him, and doesn’t feel the need to hold herself back at all. there’s security to be found in a relationship (of any kind) that you can say terrible things and act in horrible ways and that person stays by your side. that’s a huge part what she has with andrew. she trusts him to stay by her side, despite how awfully she may act. she places a Lot of importance on his presence in her life.

even the murder and cannibalism can be attributed to mental illness (along with The Plot). the intense mood swings that she has go along with her already violent tendencies. she feels anger, frustration, annoyance, and a whole bunch of other really negative emotions that she’s never learned to cope with. a lot of people in real life use violence as an outlet for anger. plus, she doesn’t allow herself feel upset or disgusted by death, even at her own hands (if she even feels it at all). despite that, i believe that murdering her parents had to be So cathartic for her and andrew. ashley explains in the decay route why eating people makes her feel powerful and in control, and being in control is something she very obviously feels that she lacks. she’s seen as manipulative, but she doesn’t really succeed at her manipulation. she’s understandably insecure with her entire existence, so she tries to control whoever and whatever she can, and that extends to andrew, murder, as well as cooking and eating people

there’s a lot to life that is treated as “normal” and “universal,” but everyone starts with absolutely no knowledge. experiences build a person’s worldview and shapes their personality, and ashley has had very rough experiences. she is a product of abuse and neglect and mistreatment, and is a very realistic depiction of a person who has had the experiences she’s had. the game has a pretty light tone despite the content, but it being “pretty light” doesn’t take away from the amount of detail that is put into the main characters and the trauma that they’ve suffered

ashley doesn’t have to be “good” or “positive” representation to be accurate representation, and i feel like nemlei has done a fucking excellent job at making a very, very unwell person (or two or three) in a very, very unwell society, and i am so extremely excited to see more of the graves’ childhood in chapter three

[damixo]

「 ☾ 」 ｔｈｅ ｂｅｇｉｎｎｉｎｇ．．．

Long ago, after centuries of persecution, thousands of magical beings had fled from the violence of the human world and found refuge in the kingdom of Desmodonia. The kingdom became a safe haven for magic of all kinds, but in turn, it also became a target for those who deemed its citizens "demonic". There was one being, however, that all the hunters eyed like a trophy. The crown prince of Desmodonia and a powerful witch, Damián Chacón. In other words, everyone wanted me dead.

Witches weren't uncommon in the Chacón lineage, but one as powerful as me was almost unheard of. When my powers first manifested I was already outperforming the most experienced witches my kingdom had to offer. I could perform rituals that would usually require several witches to be effective. I could do magic without spells, simply imposing my will onto reality to manifest that which I desired. It made me a force to be reckoned with, but also the greatest fear of puritanical outsiders.

Growing up with a target on my back made for a peculiar childhood. I can't remember a time when I didn't have several guards protecting me like a precious diamond rather than a child. I never felt like a person. I was a miracle, a weapon, a monster.

That was until I met him.

I was only 14 and had lost my 5th magic teacher because they couldn't handle how "difficult" I was. In my rebellion, I ran down to the nearby town. I dived into the nearest shop to hide from my guards and my heart skipped a beat when I locked eyes with him. A boy just a bit older than me with the prettiest brown eyes and the most beautiful face I had ever seen. His name? Jake Sim.

Jake came from a wealthy witch family from a neighboring kingdom, but he was born without any inherent magic. His family fled to Desmodonia to escape persecution and in doing so they lost their elite standing. They ran a small apothecary. I spent days convincing my father to let Jake's mother be my new teacher and he, reluctantly, agreed.

I was on my best behavior with my new teacher, mainly because it was an excuse to see Jake every day. Surprisingly, I was actually learning with my new teacher. Jake's mother would teach me how to make my magic more precise and Jake enlisted in the castle's knight training programs. In our free time though? We were inseparable. Trying out new spells, swordfighting, swimming, a trek through the nearby woods, we did everything together. It didn't take long for our relationship to become romantic. We knew it was true love, that we were souls mates, and luckily our parents approved of our relationship.

It was around my 21st birthday when the nearby kingdom started becoming more hostile. I knew there was a high likelihood of an enemy invasion and I was terrified. Jake was part of the royal army. I had convinced my father to make him my personal guard but if the situation required it, he'd be called into battle.

That's why I spent most of my days in my room, crafting the most powerful elixir to keep him safe, one that could reverse his death if necessary. Was it against the laws of nature to interfere with life and death? Yes, but nothing mattered more to me than keeping him alive. There was on thing I couldn't figure out though, how to fuel it. I figured out every other ingredient but to make it last indefinitely it would need some kind of magical energy to draw from. Nothing reliable was powerful enough and nothing powerful could be ethically sourced. It stumped me for weeks and I was forced to leave it, for now.

A little while later Desmodonia was invaded. Our army was doing well but no magical being was safe. Many were slaughtered that day for being "too sinful for this world". When they reached the castle my father ordered Jake to protect me and locked us in my chambers. I wanted to end the battle there but Jake told me I couldn't. If I used magic to kill the enemy army it'd just reinforce the belief that our magic was evil. I trusted him so I stayed passive. Sometimes I wish I didn't listen to him.

Eventually, they broke through the defenses and it was just Jake protecting me from a dozen enemy soldiers. He fought valiantly and killed all the knights but one. The last soldier was able to get to me and slice me right across my arm. That was the first time anyone had hurt me since Jake became my personal guard, and I had never seen him more scared and enraged.

Jake ran over to me to protect me from further harm and threw himself in front of the enemy's blade. The soldier stabbed him in the stomach as he shielded me. Jake fell into my arms on the verge of death and I threw the guard across the room with my magic. I cradled Jake close, the elixir was just a few feet away and I knew that I needed to give it whatever fuel it needed, morals be damned.

I sprinted as fast as I could to the elixir and held Jake once more. I let my blood drip from my wound into the bottle. Blood magic was risky and typically had unintended side effects but I had no other choice. I added Jake's blood to the elixir and mixed it together with my own, enchanting it to complete the ritual and make it even more potent. I begged him to drink it, practically forcing it onto his lips, but he only drank half of it and told me to drink the rest. He said there was no point in being saved if I died.

I drank the rest of the elixir but the soldier had already gotten back up. I was distracted and Jake was injured giving the soldier the perfect opening and he slaughtered us both. We woke up a bit later. Neither Jake nor I remember what happened between our slaughter and awakening. What we do remember are the enemy soldiers that surrounded us, and the hunger. The unbearable ache in my canines and stomach. Jake and I had never killed another person, but before we could process it, our mouths were dripping with blood and the soldiers were drained of life, fang marks in their necks.

That was the day vampires were born.

[m3l0diisbl00d]

Hey,

It’s me again,👾anon.

First off I really love Eidon. He’s so loyal. Thou when I was taking out the bodies trash, it occurred to me to wonder, what would happen if the reader was the yandere one. Like they stalk character, steal valuables from them for their shrine, masturbate  to their muse taking a shower without them knowing.

In all honesty, I have no clue which character will be interesting to see in that predicament. Thou it will be cool see Sherlock in the whole.

Well, thanks for reading my rant and kind of request. If you’re uncomfortable please don’t be pressured to do it. Thanks again.

Yours truly

👾

Why 👾anon i hope that you know that im literally in love with you and everything about this idea. He’d be so dumb n clueless about it because he thinks he already knows literally everything about you :( he’d def be all sad n upset like a kicked puppy. honestly i can see this becoming a verrrry interesting conflict in the future.. but for now, here you go, anon. Ilysm pookie bear 🎀

TWs: yandere behavior, stalking, masturbation, fem!reader

“If there’s anything you need, be sure to tell me, ok? Ciao, bella..” That’s one of the things he liked to call you. Beautiful, huh? God, just the way he spoke to you with his sweet tone, and deep voice made heat pool deep in your stomach.. Its was always your stupid neighbor with his stupid eyes and stupid smirk and stupid flirty attitude, Eidon. He always made time for you, even when he was neck deep in paperwork. You didn’t know exactly what his job was, but he always put so much time and effort into it that you decided to just not question it. He always laughed at your jokes, even the bad ones, and gave you cute gifts and always left his door open, just for you. Just for you. No one else. You. Just you. You wanted Eidon.. and you admit to having— urges.. especially around him. Scratch that. You needed him. You eat, drink, sleep, and breathe that man on a daily basis. And you swear to god if anyone wants to take him from you, which seemed likely because of how appealing he was, you’d kick their fucking teeth in and do things to their body that would make them fucking unrecognizable to the autopsy. He was only for you. And nobody else. You believe that you two were destined to be together, and were specially crafted for each other. You had already planned out the rest of your lives together. You wouldn’t need to rely on anyone else when you had each other. Just the two of you. Forever. Just how it should be, and just how it will be. He hadn’t picked up on your obsession just yet, but you worried that he might if you keep slipping up around him. He left you a copy of his house key just in case of an emergency or if he had to go on a work trip. I mean, who said that you couldn’t just step in while he was out and take a peek?

His door opens with a loud creaking noise, and you step in to admire every little detail of his house. You had obviously seen it plenty of times before. (Oh trust me, you knew the layout of his whole house like the back of your hand despite just moving in..) It was just more exciting each time. You felt like you were closer to him.. more connected with him. This was the house where he cooked up meals for you and spent time with you when you felt lonely and where he shamelessly pumped his aching dick into his hand every time you accidentally teased him.. You waltz around with a wide smile spread across your face, peeking at his belongings, petting his white cat, Elodie, and then tiptoeing upstairs to where his room is. You finally make it to his room and— oh good God.. it smells like him, too. Eidon always smelt sweet, like a walking bakery, and catching a huge whiff of it the second you step into his room only added to your growing arousal. His room was rather basic with little decor, but you just figured that he doesn’t have the time to decorate. Each step you take is very careful, making sure that you leave everything just as you found it, well, that is until you see his underwear sticking out of a laundry basket. He wouldn’t care if you took it.. He wouldn’t care at all, right? He doesn’t mind. You take it, feeling your body starting to get all hot again.. if anything it’d be wrong for you to not take it. It’d be the perfect addition to a corner of your house you dedicated just for him. ♡ He doesn’t know about it, of course, but you’d love to tell him at some point.. maybe when he finally asks you out. It’ll be perfect with all your framed pictures of him, his name written with hearts, locks of his hair that you wrapped in cute pink ribbons, and even some of his expensive jewelry you stole from him that he’s been scrambling to find for the past week. “But I’m positive.. I wore it yesterday.. what the hell..” How cute. You scurry back home, you were pretty familiar with his schedule when he didn’t have unexpected business trips, and it was around this time that he comes home. You just couldn’t wait to bring your new prize to your shrine!!

By the time that Eidon got home, he was rather exhausted, but he couldn’t wait to kick back, maybe write another diary entry about how he wants to pamper you and spoil you, then absolutely ruin you, pound your pretty pussy and spill his hot sticky cum into your womb. He starts to undress, dropping his clothes on the floor lazily and turning on the water to the shower. From your house, you peek out your bedroom window which gave the perfect view of him showering.. he always had his shades open, its almost like he wants you to see.. oh shit— he stepped into the shower, letting the water hit his body while you watch the way that his cock hung.. and he was.. hard? You let your hand slide down to your panties, teasing your clothed clit as he touched himself in the shower. It was adorable, how he aggressively fists his cock while thinking about you after a long tiring day. Enough was enough. You kick your pants and underwear to your ankles, teasing a finger around your cunt and thrusting it in and out at a relatively fast pace. You felt a familiar coil starting to tighten inside you, rolling your eyes back while you watched him. You felt so filthy, touching yourself to your sweet neighbor who had not a clue that you wanted him to fill you up with his thick cock and be his forever. At this point you stop holding back, moans escaping your lips with every thrust of your fingers. Your orgasm crashes over you, causing your back to arch and squeal out his name. Your room now filling with the scent of sex as you watch Eidon step out of the shower. You knock out a few moments afterwards.

Little did you know, after Eidon’s shower, he watches footage of your room and notices something sticking out of your pocket in the video.. something that belongs to him. His underwear?? Shit, now he knows that you’re watching over.. always.

I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH !! 🐾

[starlordcumidk]

New Kind of Love

~prologue~

word count: 1.1k

notes: slight ooc, reader wears glasses, this is an AU of TASM!Peter where he is a fraternity brother. reader is portrayed as rude/stand-offish. please read this knowing that i am a newer author and the plot is based on a song. theres a playlist currently in the works for this that will be posted at the end of every chapter once it's created. thank you for supporting me and my work. hope you enjoy <33

warnings: mentions of spiders and brief mention of cannibalistic behaviors of spiders.

Thurs. May 9th, 2024

The air felt wet as you opened your window, looking at the ESU campus from the second floor of Siebert hall. Your dorm room was infested with your neighbors latest light up session, and you just needed the fresh air. 

The semester was so close to ending, and you were glad to be so close to going home. In truth, you wasted no time tonight, cleaning and packing your things even if you didn’t leave for three more days. You were just excited to go home again.

May had brought more greenery and activity back to New York, spring pulling out its prettiest florals and faunas. From your dorm window, you only got the sight of the court-yard, which had very little floral bushes and a tall sycamore in the middle. However, the view was perfect for people watching. 

There were multiple break-ups, gossip sessions, love-at-first-sight’s and study sessions you’d witnessed through the year. A small part of you hoped you’d be lucky enough to get a room like this again next year. 

As you looked at the shubbery and through humidity you noticed a guy standing in the grass patch that broke the brick flooring of the courtyard, gently touching the leaves of the tree that sat there. He was taller, had pretty brown hair and was wearing what seemed to be a university hoodie. 

The tree he was next to was notorious for harboring the spiders that loved to sneak their way into the dorms. The image of the little beasts made your stomach turn, thinking about being that close to one of those stupid things worsened it. But he reached out, grabbing one of them. 

The grimace in your face was apparent but you were intrigued now, the small fuzzy thing crawling all over his hand. Something in you wanted to get a closer look, your glasses slipping down your nose a bit as you lean out. He looked so… focused, almost as if he was studying the way it moved. For some reason, you couldn’t look away.

After a good ten or fifteen minutes of staring out, observing the weird spider-guy, your glasses lip enough that they fall off your nose. You gasp, reaching to try and grab them but there’s a small thump on the grass. With furrowed brows, he turns his head and looks right at you, then down towards the ground. Quickly you straighten your back and take a step away from the window, you were definitely caught.

“You good?” The voice is smooth and distant, seeping into your room from the courtyard. Fuck, you didn’t want to answer that. You didn’t want to talk to him at all. 

“Yep.” Is the best you could muster. 

“You uh… dropped something.” The voice was closer now. There was a beat before he spoke up again. “Do you want me to throw them up to you?” 

“No. That’s stupid?” Shit, that sounded too mean. “I mean- I’ll just come grab them.”

There was no reply, so you assumed he had left. With a slight reluctance, you carry yourself into the elevator, pressing the ground floor’s button and wishing you hadn’t been so captivated by his stupid hair or the way he held those stupid spiders. 

Before you could dwell on it too hard, the doors swung open and you were met with the biggest brown eyes you’ve ever seen on a person. It took a minute to register, but the doe-eyed person in front of you was definitely the same guy with the sycamore tree and spider. But this close, you could see small specks of blonde dusting the tips of his wavy hair. Upon further inspection, the hoodie he was wearing was of the biggest frat on campus, Phi Kappa Nu. 

“Hey! You dropped your glasses right?” He said it with a smile before reaching into his hoodie pocket and pulling out the familiar frame. “They broke a little but here. I was gonna try and bring them up for you.”

“You don’t know my dorm number.” It came out harsh but you meant it, grabbing the frame from his hand and looking them over. 

“Oh, I counted the windows.” A nonchalant shrug and his smile fading a bit follow his words before he takes a step back. 

“That’s totally not creepy.” Your brows were furrowed, glancing up at him for a second before back down at your frames. There was a lens missing and you felt your body recoil at the thought of having to find it in that tall ass grass. With a few steps, you pushed past him, the smell of warm honey and pine trees enveloping your nose. 

“Well, maybe. But you started it.” He said it gently, walking a few steps behind you. “I recall you watching me from your window.” 

You shoot a glare back at him before kneeling in the grass, your hand gently pushing different spots aside. “You say that but I wouldn’t have been if you weren’t playing with fucking arachnids.”

“I wasn’t playing with them.” Spider-guy shrugged with a small laugh. “I was just getting a closer look. You know, they have some pretty cool attributes, the ones here are brown recluses. They cannibalise eachother and have a really bad bite.”

There's no way to stop the eyeroll you do as you keep digging for the missing lens, sighing internally at the fact you were stupid enough to drop your only pair of glasses from almost 20 feet in the air. “Wow. Fascinating, thanks for that awful image, spider-guy.”

“I prefer Peter, but you’re welcome.” Peter says before leaning over your hunched body and pointing at a spot just left of where you’re looking. And there's the missing lens. 

“Okay, Peter, I have to go finish packing my dorm.” You swiftly grab the lens and look over the different pieces of your glasses, puzzling them back together in your mind. After a moment, you just start to walk back towards the elevator, not really wanting to look back at him. 

“Wait- hey, no thank you?” He called after you, but you just kept walking, not really wanting to talk to him anymore. “No introduction?” He said a little louder, hoping you’d hear him as you turned to go into the elevator.

You looked back once, seeing an amused expression at you. God you hated this, to you he was some frat boy and he was finding pleasure in your shortcomings. There was slight anger bubbling in your chest as you looked over at him before smashing the button to call the elevator. 

The doors opened and before stepping in, you gave him a purposefully pained smile. There was no need for introductions or thank you’s, from this moment on you were back to strangers. The summer was starting and you’d both forget eachother by fall anyways. So you click the button to go back to your dorm.  

[gotta-pet-em-all]

How to practice exposure therapy

You have lost touch with reality.

Shut up.

You are simply a reality-challenged person. Not a psycho.

Ignore your therapist.

SHUT THE FUCK UP! WHY WON'T THEY ALL SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE!

You have lost touch with reality.

It's fine. Okay? it happens.

You are damaged.

Gods, why me? Why do I have to do all the work to unlearn this and become a good person when my abusers and my bullies run off to repeat the cycle?

You are forever tainted. You will never be clean.

The weight of sin upon your body is overwhelming.

You know the drill by now.

Fine. I've lost touch with reality. How the fuck do I fix it?

You can't.

This cannot be fixed with medication.

This is not a physical illness.

This is not an emotional imbalance.

This is not something that can be fixed by forgiveness.

I lied. Everyone lied. Everything you know about PTSD is wrong. Go cry like a little bitch about it, just because you saw emotional dysregulation on the list of symptoms doesn't mean you know what the fuck those words mean when it happens. Obviously it's your fault somehow.

It's a new day and you haven't killed yourself. I know you won't; you want to live too badly.

Get out of bed. There's work to be done.

Get out of your head. There's work to be done.

You are having a panic attack over the morally neutral existence of a growlithe. You're a terrible person.

Shut up. I'm tired.

You have lost touch with reality. Okay. Let's try this again.

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy sounds a lot like gaslighting.

Your therapist explains that it's not meant to be, but it can be if practiced improperly. You just need to recalibrate your brain's fear response.

You have lost touch with reality. And that means it's just a calibration issue, that XYZ aren't at zero.

You see things that aren't there and react as though you're being hurt.

You were hurt. Badly. And no one ever told you that you didn't deserve it.

You deserve it because bad things happen to bad people and that makes you feel in control of your life.

You deserve it because you hate yourself.

You deserve it because you don't know how else to rationalize it.

You were eight. Maybe seven. You don't remember.

You have lost touch with reality because huge chunks of it are missing or fabricated.

You see things that don't exist and hear neighbors inside of your walls.

You don't think you could justify this happening to anyone else who isn't you.

Maybe you just hate yourself?

You don't want to die or be in pain, though. You just do things you shouldn't because there's something wrong with you that makes poison feel like a comfort.

Suffering is familiar. To suffer is to repent.

You tell yourself you have not sinned. You don't believe it.

You have lost touch with reality.

Why aren't you better yet? Why aren't you taking care of this in therapy yet?

You are unclean. You need to become pure before you interact with society again.

Your neighbor invites you over for lemonade anyways. You apologize too much.

You have lost touch with reality.

But you have people now who actually kind of give a shit and you're in love with them both.

Which is fine, in hindsight you've always been kind of poly.

You're weird and offputting but they don't hate you.

You are never going to become Good on your own. It's a leap of faith. You are not an island.

You have lost touch with reality but you are learning to construct your own.

You start small and you start sweet, roasting marshmallows around a fire in the backyard.

You don't force yourself.

You relapse.

You try again.

This won't cure you.

You aren't asking for a cure. You're just trying to be better than you were yesterday.

You are so hungry for love that you don't know when you are full.

You are uncertain how it feels. But you start to learn. When it is enough.

[dragongirlteeth]

I can still remember the warm sun on that March afternoon when Melly came into our lives. She was calm and gentle at first, the aftereffects of the anesthetic lingering, masking a ball of energy and curiosity that revealed itself soon after she slept a few nights in her new home.

How quickly we discovered that the animal we had brought into our family was not, in fact, the timid, shy thing she was at the shelter, but a highly intelligent scavenger, using every tool at her disposal to scrounge for tasty garbage, food left unguarded, and scraps from the table. Indeed, the young pup from the wilds of Tennessee had not yet left behind the life of a stray.

She wasn’t all bad though, for all the trouble. While we adapted around her, so too did she adapt to us in time, but through this process, we learned to love.

I remember early in Melly’s time with us, she showed no shortage of love. So much so, in fact, that her tail - ever wagging to and fro in her excitement, would inevitably get injured, leaving little streaks of red along the walls at knee height. I think a lot about that - It’s likely that we were the first people who truly treated Melly as family, and she was so eager to show that love in kind that she couldn’t help but injure herself inadvertently.

Other times, her wild nature got the better of her. Especially in her early years, Melly was a creature full of energy. We would often let her run in our fenced-in back yard, but a fence could not delay Melly’s curiosity for too long. One spring morning, when our gazes had been turned for a minute too long, we looked back to wonder “where’s Melly?”

The answer came a few seconds later, looking into our neighbor’s yard. Fortunately, we were on good terms, so it was no trouble to hop the fence and engage the fugitive in a rousing game of chase - ending with said fugitive held tightly in my sibling’s arms as we carried her back inside.

I also recall her love of food. While she would sit patiently while mom cooked in the hopes of being rewarded with scraps (which happened often), or lay patiently under the table for bits of dinner leftovers, there was one surefire way to summon an eager, black snout to your side. Melly absolutely loved potato chips. One needed simply crinkle a foil bag, and no matter how far away, soon the gentle tap tap tap of claws on hardwood would carry her to your side.

I could go on and on about the endearingly goofy behaviors of this sweet, tuxedo-colored gremlin. But as I do, I am overcome with grief. Mortality has been on my mind often of late - The recent passing of another friend to cancer, and my own grandfather’s struggles, strained as our relationship may be, have rendered death in stark resolution in my mind.

I had hoped to visit my family to see Melly before time took its due, but unfortunately, fate does not ask before it takes. Perhaps it’s a mercy that I was not able to see her in her final, most vulnerable moments, forever preserving the image of a spry, stubborn troublemaker as my lasting impression of Melly. I’m told some of those behaviors never truly left - The week before the decision was made, she still had moments where she would take the lead on walks, pulling on the leash as if to say “No, I want to go this way”.

To the point, however. Transience is the nature of life, pressing ever onwards through time. To wish for more time is a struggle against the universe itself. I have long thought on the transient nature of life, thought I knew what it meant, but as my grief wracks my body, I find myself wishing nonetheless that I might have had one more day, that whatever we pass into after life might offer a chance to see her again.

So instead, I will hold tight to these treasured memories, and move through grief as part of them. That her absence leaves such a mark on my soul is too a mark of the love she had for us. Teenage years are difficult, but Melly’s sometimes mischievous, sometimes needy attitude carried me through many dark nights. Truly, Melly showed love as only Melly could.

Give your creatures some pets, some care, show them how much they mean to you.