selfishindulgencies

[selfishindulgencies]

for your eyes only

☆ tags: elliott x gn!reader, elliott and farmer are married, he writes love poems for his spouse and is told to monetize them, oh boy is he not happy about that ☆

You pat your pig's backside encouragingly and coo as it digs its snout into the ground, unearthing yet another truffle that you add to your basket. Can't believe you were worried about this one being the runt of its litter—it's quickly proving to be one of the fastest learners, taking to truffle hunting like a duck to water. It'll do just fine with the rest of the adult pigs.

Taking care of the farm by yourself has always been a gargantuan task, but as the years go by, everything grows bigger—the coops, the barns, the ponds, the crops, the expectations—and exhaustion wears you down to the bone. You sigh and push to your feet, ready to head into the nearest coop to collect more eggs. Collect animal products, drop them into churning machines, harvest and sell. It feels like the cycle never ends. Against your neck, the small mermaid's pendant slides on its chain, another reminder of your absent husband. An extra pair of helping hands made the daily work light; you wonder if it's selfish to ask him to stay home more often.

"I know, I know," you say to your angry chickens once you open the door. You miss your husband, but these girls like to remind you that they miss him more. "He'll be home soon. Bear with me, okay?"

After giving each of them pats on the head, a motion they accept with reluctance, you dig around the hay for eggs. The large chicken and dinosaur eggs are easy to spot, but for the delicate duck eggs, you prod every corner with your fingers until you come across something warm and smooth. You push away your hens as they peck at your hands. The ducks are fine with you. The chickens, however...how in the world did Elliott win them over?

Outside, your dog barks. A single warning to the intruder before the tone shifts into excitement. Someone familiar, then. Maybe Marnie is stopping by to give you some hay like she mentioned last night. With winter approaching, any addition to your reserves is appreciated, and you're already wiping your hands on your overalls to greet her.

"Hey, Marnie! I'm just in here—"

You stop in your tracks when the visitor raises his head, though he's not exactly a visitor. Elliott smiles as you draw close, ignoring the horde of chickens now lining the fence for his attention. Their wings flap, clucking loudly as they hit each other.

"Good morning, my love," he says over the noise, as if it really is the start to a normal day. His thumb reaches out to rub at a dirt smudge on your cheek. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Just some leftovers and coffee," you reply, dazed. Your husband tends to have that effect, and after two weeks apart, you feel it more than ever. You lean into his touch, comforting against your wind-blown skin. "I thought you were coming home tomorrow?"

"I decided to come back early. The office didn't need me today, anyway."

"You should've messaged me! I would've picked you up at the train station," you say. Behind him sits his traveling suitcase, the wheels speckled with mud from being dragged through the road. He steps in front of it. "Why don't you go get unpacked? I'll be done soon."

He leans his elbows onto the fence, tilting his head until his fiery hair spills over one shoulder. "You're rather quick to dismiss my presence. If I didn't know better, I'd say that you're unhappy to see me," he says, though his words hold no accusation. It's merely a way to boost his ego when you reassure him. After all, you practically radiate by his side. "Would you like me to help?"

You glance at the dress shoes, the slacks, the spotless cardigan that he's already shrugging off to reveal a clean pressed button-down. Not exactly farm-friendly attire. "No, I'll be alright by myself."

"I could go change really quickly," he offers in a suspicious rush.

You search his expression then, and underneath the joy of being back, there's...something. You squint, unable to make it out. Sure, he must've missed you, but this feels like it runs deeper than that. When you give him a nod, he hurries towards the house, your dog chasing and barking at his heels. True to his word, he's back in minutes.

The chickens are much more cooperative now, and you roll your eyes at how they parade around your husband. They even hop around the coop, showing him where they've hidden their eggs from your intrusive searching.

"Thank you, dearies," he says to the hens. You swear they swoon.

"A real heart breaker," you deadpan. "Have you told them you're married?"

He chuckles, taking your hand as you move into the barns next door. While you lay out new hay on the feeding bench, he unhooks the stools and milk pails and sets them on either side of the door. It's hard to believe that just a few months ago he barely knew how to approach your animals, let alone help you with the chores.

He whistles lowly, and the first cow trudges to his station, ready to be milked. You get settled at your own station. One of the newer goats skids to the front of the line, eager to be let outside. It's not quiet in the barn—it never is, not with twelve grown animals waiting for their turn—but when you call Elliott's name, he looks at you. His ponytail needs to be retied.

"So why'd you come home early?" The young adult goats don't have much milk, just enough for a small container. You pat its hind leg, and it runs into the crisp autumn air with an excited bleat.

"I missed the atmosphere of our farm. The fresh air of the valley is good for my creative soul, unlike the bustle of Zuzu City."

You only raise your eyebrows, and he sighs from your all-knowing gaze.

"You read me a little too well, my love."

"I sure hope so, after all this time together. Did something happen at the office?"

Since the release of his last collection of short stories, he's been invited to the city more often for author-related events. This latest stint, running a series of writing workshops in partnership with Zuzu University and the local community, was organized by his agent in hopes of bigger opportunities. Maybe even a guest lecturer contract, they've said on more than one occasion, though Elliott refuses to be apart from you for too long.

Elliott gives another sigh. "Something like that. I just...it was admittedly negligence on my part. I was in the middle of writing you another letter when someone required my presence down the hall. I thought that it'd be a quick matter, so I didn't clear my desk. But apparently one of the secretaries came looking for me while I was out."

"Did they read...?" You wrinkle your nose, knowing how private Elliott is about his unpolished work. He's even more private about what he writes for your eyes only. "I'm sure they were embarrassed."

"That's what bothers me the most! She had the audacity to bring it up in front of everyone when we had a meeting, even quoted a few lines—"

The cow groans as he moves particularly rough. He gives it an apologetic scratch under the chin.

"So for the past two days, everyone has been trying to talk me into releasing a collection of love poems, which I would have no issues with if it didn't stem from such a personal...I mean, the poems were addressed to my muse, and when I explained that it was you, they said that was even better. Something about how the romance will really sell." He frowns. "I like being able to support myself—contribute to our funds, you know—with my writing, but it's not...a commodity. I'm allowed to make art for the sake of making art."

His forehead is furrowed, and you would reach out to ease the frustration if your hands weren't busy.

"What's your plan now?"

He scoffs. "There's no plan regarding that. I completely refuse. It's quite insulting, in fact, the idea that I'd put my love on display for a paycheck."

It's relieving, you have to admit. Even after getting a taste of success, your husband remains the same person you said your vows to. The same romantic who holds you in such high esteem. There's so many emotions—namely affection—swirling in your chest, but you're not the writer so all you manage is a simple Okay.

"Okay," you say again for good measure, but he must understand you because his expression smooths. "So what do you want for lunch?"

#AWWWW #i love him sm 🤧 #sdv #sdv elliot

[selfishindulgencies]

... Oops

Harvey x gn!Farmer

Had this thought when I remembered I had to take my meds tonight. I just think it would be nice to have someone who takes care of you when you're a bit stupid and forget to take very important meds 👉👈

Also, Baja Blast is the actual name of my blue chicken lmao

Also also, this is written in third person POV instead of my usual second person POV

Warnings: swearing, dizziness, anxiety, possibly OOC Harvey

Word Count: 1,592

Masterlist

AO3

Harvey rubbed at his eyes as he slipped out of bed, glancing absentmindedly at the empty space beside him. The farmer was already up, of course. He worried for them when he realized how early they woke up each day, but it couldn't be helped if they wanted to take care of their farm all in one day.

He adjusted his glasses on his face as he shuffled to the kitchen. A cup of hot coffee sat on the counter waiting for him, as it always was. He smiled to himself. Fresh coffee from beans they grew themselves always tasted better than anything Gus could ever dream of making. It was perfectly bitter and smooth as he gulped it down.

He looked out the window of the cabin that overlooked the field left to the farmer by their grandfather. There weren't any unwanted stumps, logs or boulders anymore. Fences penned in the animals as they meandered about, munching on fresh grass. The crops were already watered. The scarecrows teetered slightly in the breeze, the fabric of their gloves almost appearing to wave back at him. He always enjoyed the one that resembled an animated movie character - the farmer had been so proud of it when they stuck it into the ground.

His eyes scanned the paths and fences, searching for his partner.

Hm, they must be in one of the barns.

He stared out a while longer, hoping to catch a glimpse as they came out. A concerned frown etched its way onto his face, but he tried writing off the anxiety swarming in his gut. They're probably just refilling the feeders or refilling their kegs or... Really, it's nothing to get worried about. They knew what they were doing! As long as they stayed out of those damn mines, he had nothing to worry about.

He sighed, shaking his head to remove the flood of worried thoughts in his head. Downing the last of the coffee and placing the mug in the sink, he went off to the bathroom to get ready for a day in the clinic.

He peeked out the window again after he got out of the shower. A blue chicken - a gift from Shane the farmer had named Baja Blast - clucked cheerily as it walked out of the open gate. The farmer usually kept the gates closed, always worrying about coyotes or foxes coming to eat their precious hens. It was unusual for them to keep it open, even if they were inside the coop.

He bustled about in a slight rush to get dressed and gather his things for work, namely a giant thermos of coffee and a lunch prepared for him waiting in the fridge, before slipping out of the cabin. He set it all down on a rocking chair sitting on the porch, creaking in the wind.

Baja Blast clucked up at him as he scooped her into his arms. “C’mon, you shouldn’t be out here. All your food is in here,” he says to the chicken as he steps through the gate and closes it behind him. With a cursory glance back, it didn’t seem like any other chickens got out. He couldn’t remember how many his partner had anymore. He had no idea how in the world they kept up with chickens, ducks, goats, sheep, cows, and pigs on one farm alone. It made his head spin trying to guess how they kept their head on straight with so much to do.

He set Baja Blast down with a white chicken, Madame Clucks. She went back right to pecking away at the grass.

Harvey set his hands on his hips as he looked around. Even out here, he couldn’t see the farmer. Okay, how he was worried. His hands fidgeted anxiously as he stumbled in his loafers through the soft dirt to the coop door. If they weren’t in here, he’d have to check the other barns. And if they weren’t in the barns, he’d have to call Marnie or Shane, or, Yoba forbid, Marlon at the Adventurer’s Guild, just in case they really had slipped off to the mines without telling him. But what if they weren’t in the mines? He’d have to call- Yoba, who could he call? Everyone? Ask if they’ve seen the farmer around today? It wasn’t even 8am, nobody would be up and about to know if they’d gone through town.

He pushed open the door, a bit harder than he meant to as some chickens lingering inside bawk’d and spooked away, leaving feathers in their wake. He couldn’t even focus on that. His eyes immediately landed on the figure sitting on the chest by the mayonnaise machine. They were hunched over and holding their head.

“Farmer!” Harvey rushed forward, all the old anxiety quickly replaced with a thousand more fears. He knelt down by them and rested a hand on their shoulder, looking at them with wide eyes. From this angle he could see their eyes were closed, face pinched in discomfort. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

They shook their head. “‘M just lightheaded. I bent down to grab the eggs and I got really dizzy.”

He pressed the back of his hand to their forehead, brushing back some hair as he pulled away. “You’re not running a fever.” He let out a hesitant breath of relief. “Do you think you can stand?”

After a moment, they nodded. Harvey stood up and supported them as they stood. They wobbled on their feet, but he wrapped an arm around their waist to steady them.

“Easy now. Let’s get you back inside.”

“What about-”

“Don’t you dare put your farm over your own wellbeing,” he warned. “I can call Shane and see if he’ll take over for the day.”

The farmer sighed, relenting. He knew how much peace they found tending to everything themselves, despite how overwhelming it seemed on the outside. They had a whole process for everything, and they’d explained before just how much of the simpler tasks they’d automated with sprinklers and some of Maru’s machines. Still, he was absolutely not about to let them go right back to work when they can barely stand up without a light breeze threatening to knock them over.

Harvey opened the gate and helped them through, shooing Baja Blast back inside as he shut the gate again. His partner gave an undignified snort at the offended squawk she let out. “At least you feel well enough to laugh.”

“Like I said, Harv, I’m just dizzy.” They leaned heavily into him as he led them along the paths to the cabin. Their feet hung up on uneven stones and the stairs leading to the door more than once.

“Dizziness is a symptom of something else. I just want to make sure it really is nothing serious.”

“I know you do.” They offered him a slight smile, but it quickly soured to a frown as they shut their eyes again with a frown. “Yoba, it feels like the whole world is spinning.”

“We’re almost there.” The line would have been less out of place if this wasn’t their home that they knew as well as they knew the names of all their animals, but they were too out of it to point it out and Harvey was too in his own head to notice it. So they stumbled together through the house to the large two-person bed.

The farmer laid down with a whine, pressing the balls of their hands to their eyes. “How is this worse somehow?” they groaned.

Harvey pressed a comforting hand to their shoulder. “Did you eat breakfast this morning?” They hummed affirmatively with a nod. “When did you get back home last night?”

“Like… 1? 1:40?”

He sighed, scratching his brow with his thumb. That was a conversation for later. “Did you take your meds?”

The silence was deafening. They covered their whole face with their hands with a muffled, “Fuck, I’m stupid.”

“So you didn’t take your iron?”

They shook their head but regretted it immediately after, uncovering their face with a grimace. Their hands plopped pathetically to the bed beside them. “No, I completely forgot. I was trying to run back from the beach after fishing all night - I must have been so tired it just slipped my mind.”

He let out a long sigh. “At least it’s nothing serious. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“‘M sorry, Harvey.”

“It’s…” He frowned at the idea of saying ‘okay’. As a doctor, he really couldn’t brush off not taking prescribed medication, especially with a partner with such a severe case of anemia. He’d protest against them running a farm at all if they weren’t so determined. “We’ll figure out a better system, okay? We can put them in a pill-minder and keep them on your nightstand.”

They nodded. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

That shocked a laugh out of him. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to their forehead, his mustache scratching their skin in a familiar way. “Of course - that is my job after all. Now sit tight, I’ll grab your supplements and call Shane. Anything he needs to know about?”

“Just make sure he pets all of the animals. They deserve daily pats.”

“I’ll make sure he knows,” he chuckled fondly as his footsteps began their retreat from the bedroom to the house beyond.

“I love you!”

His warm laugh rang out again, echoed against the wood Robin nailed together and the photos on the walls. “I love you, too!”

#AWWWWW #sdv #harvey

[selfishindulgencies]

in the deep

☆ tags: abigail x gn!reader, farmer loses all of their hp in the mines, based on the time I forgot food and a horde of slimes took me out, embarrassed myself on the coop save file by losing money right after we made some, so I typed this up, can be read PLATONICALLY ☆

“It’s a little late, isn’t it?” Marlon calls out. At the door of the Adventurer’s Guild, he tightens his tool belt, preparing for his nightly patrol of the town’s perimeter. A sharpened sword gleams at his hip. Abigail’s own weapon, though also a sword, seems like a toy in comparison to the seasoned fighter’s. “What are you doing out here?”

As he approaches, his eye narrows in recognition.

“The purple haired girl. You’re that store owner’s child, no? Your father won’t be pleased to find you here again.”

She stiffens at the mention of her dad. “I know, but—” she trails off, waving vaguely at the mine entrance. It’s close to midnight now, and other than her sword, she’s equipped with little more than a handful of spring onions and some torches, but she hasn’t seen you since you disappeared into the mines this afternoon, grumbling about prismatic jelly. “The farmer hasn’t come home yet, and I’m a little worried.”

“The farmer is a tough one. You know how they like to skirt the curfew.”

“We made dinner plans, though, and they never miss those.” She flexes her gloved hands, trying to appear braver than she felt. “I’m just going to check really quick. In and out before you know it. Maybe you’re right. Maybe they got distracted and forgot the time.”

Marlon appraises her, palm resting on the hilt of his sword, and he is clearly unsatisfied with whatever he sees because he clicks his tongue, turning away from her. “Stay here,” he orders. “I’ll do a sweep.”

“I can go with you!”

Another click of his tongue. “I’d rather not drag out a second body.”

“I can fight ,” she insists, nostrils flaring. What’s with old men and underestimating her? First her dad, and now Marlon. Granted, Marlon’s word holds more weight than her dad’s, but still. “I’ve been practicing every day.”

“Without ever setting foot in the mines? Without going into the secret woods? Without actual opponents? The farmer makes weekly trips to the Skull Caverns, and even they can get blindsided by grubs. What makes you think that you’d be less of a hindrance?” His tone isn’t condescending, simply matter of fact. “I’d be faster alone.”

Abigail’s shoulders sag. “Can I at least wait by the minecarts?”

“If that makes you feel better.”

She follows him, and just inside the cave entrance, she marks her spot. She sits on the dusty ground, slips on a small glow ring, and leans back against the minecart. It creaks with the new pressure, but soon it settles, cold against her curled spine. Marlon gives her one last warning glance—she holds up her arms in a I get it motion—before descending the ladder, pickaxe in hand.

The thing about waiting, though, is that it’s boring when you have nothing to do. She tries counting the seconds at first, but somewhere around the two minute mark, she gets distracted by the squelching sounds of slimes, the buzzing hum of cave flies. They’re so close . She could jump down to the first floor, try her hand at fighting a few, and then head back up before anyone notices. No one is here to catch her. Her fingers inch towards her weapon. They’re only green slimes. How hard could it be?

But then she remembers your wince of pain the last time she patched you up. Dr. Harvey’s clinic was closed for the afternoon, and he was somewhere by the river, so she took you back to her room and opened her first-aid kit. Slimes are tricky , you said, hissing as she applied antiseptic to your legs. Can’t wait until I get the slime charmer ring, but I can’t believe he’s making me kill 1000 slimes first.

So she sits there, dragging the tip of her sword in the dirt to make swirled lines until she’s surrounded. As she is about to erase her canvas, the elevator whirs. She jumps to her feet. When the doors finally creak open, revealing Marlon carrying you over his shoulder, she gasps, hands flying to her mouth.

“What happened?” she demands, taking in your injuries.

“Found them near the bottom of the mine,” he grunts, easing you onto your back. “Luckily, they were on an elevator floor.”

“They said that they were looking for prismatic jelly or something.”

Marlon nods. “Elevator method. That checks out.”

“Should I get Dr. Harvey? It’s late, but he’s a light sleeper.

“No need, the cuts look worse than they are. Probably just collapsed from exertion. I gave them some elixir before getting them up here, so it should kick in any second now.” He takes out a piece of clothes and wipes away the dirt on your face.

Right on time, you groan, rolling onto your side. “What the hell…?” You cough before squinting in the faint light of their rings. “Marlon? Abby? What’re you doing here?”

“Saving your life, idiot!” Abigail hisses. She’s on her hands and knees, leaning into your face to read your expression.

Marlon puts a warning hand on her shoulder. She looks back. Gentle , his gaze says. She chews her lip, supposing that her lecture could come later. Right now, with your tired eyes blinking at her, she can’t bring herself to be mad, not when when relief finally wipes the tension in her limbs.

“I was so worried,” she whimpers instead. “Can you get up?”

#sdv #Abigail sdv

[selfishindulgencies]

TWST Story Idea (14)

Warning: Spoiler and Mild Gore

If overblots are dangerous to those who overuse magic, then how dangerous is it for a magicless student who has never touched magic to be exposed to one?

No one knew. After all, this had never happened before until Yuu appeared, but even then, it was too late to understand not process how severe it was.

Yuu's first exposure to an overblot was in the dwarf mine where they came face to face with an unknown being.

The black liquid sloshed in the damaged jar for a head, its contents leaking out of its cracks, and its whole lower body was replaced by a sludge of black, forming a trail behind it as it moved.

Yuu made the mistake of touching the liquid, unaware of its danger and distracted by adrenaline rushing through their veins.

It was when everything was over that Yuu felt a bit off but quickly dismissed it as weariness and being subjected to a new and stressful environment.

-

The second was Riddle Rosehearts's overblot, where the experience was much different from the first. Yuu could see the surroundings being affected. The rose bushes were dug out of their place and floated ominously amongst the equally ominous red mist and sky.

Riddle's appearance changed, and with that, a being that Yuu came to learn as a Phantom popped up behind him, and it was much larger than the first one and so, so angry.

Yuu felt scared as the phantom wielding the rose bush towered over them, the ink, akin to blood, spilt over their face and shoulders.

The rose bush turned to cards before it managed to smash them to nothing but a puddle of blood, torn flesh and broken bones.

The cards scratched Yuu, and blood and ink mixed together.

Yuu fell terribly sick that day at the unbirthday party but felt a bit better after a couple of days.

-

The third was Leona Kingscholar.

The sand particles floated all over the area, and it was so dense it made Yuu choke and become thirsty. It clung to them and stuck on their eyes like a second skin, uncomfortably so with its rough texture.

The roaring of a Phantom with a lion with stitched skin for a body and a cracked jar for a head echoed all over the place. A distinct deep laugh could be heard in the background.

Yuu was scared of dying, they were scared of not knowing anything and facing the enemy blind, scared of not being able to do anything when their life was in danger.

Yuu was scared of not being able to go home in one piece or not being able to return at all.

When it was over, Yuu found themselves distracted and out of touch with the surrounding.

A good hit from the disc unto the head made Yuu unconscious, and when they woke up, they got distracted once more.

-

The fourth was Azul Ashengrotto.

Yuu did not feel scared this time, but they were angry. Upset at how this had happened to them for the fourth time in a row.

Come to think of it, this wouldn't have happened if those friends of theirs hadn't done stupid things like striking a deal, would it? Yuu wouldn't have gotten dragged into it if they hadn't begged for their help, would they?

Yuu shouldn't be involved in this and deal with the aftermath if those friends knew the consequence of their own actions.

Yuu's gaze bore deep into their soul.

And the ink goes drip, drip, drip into the puddle of ink.

The fifth was Jamil Viper, the Vice Housewarden.

Quite frankly, Yuu had looked forward to the holiday. No friends, no headmaster, no students roaming around the school for Yuu to talk to with the exception of Grim, which is an avoidable case.

Yuu is fully aware of the feelings that grew inside of them and attempted to quell it using this opportunity.

Yuu wanted to rest, enjoy some time to themself until Kalim insisted on inviting them to have a party back in his dorm.

Yuu rejected once and twice and more, only to be dragged there the moment Grim voiced out his disagreement and promptly accepted the invitation.

Yuu felt anger and dissatisfaction growing inside.

They felt sick looking at the feast spreading from one edge to another, weary of dealing with Grim and Kalim's antics and developed a fever under the burning sun.

The only time they got better was when they snapped at Kalim for his foolishness and naivety that started to get on their nerves, but even then, the feelings didn't go away all that much. It still lingered and steadily grew.

Yuu sat down and hid, waiting for the others to deal with the overblot. It was their fault, not Yuu's, so they should deal with that.

-

The sixth overblot was Vil Schoenheit.

Yuu was not pleased that their dorm was being used to house the participants of VDC when Yuu themself wasn't part of it. Why was Yuu in charge of them? Why was Vil bossing them around? Why was their privacy being invaded?

Why did nobody ask Yuu at all?

Yuu barely batted an eye when Vil overblotted, even as the stage shook and crumbled. Even if his youth seeped out blink of an eye and restored the next.

Yuu was angry. Yuu was tired. Yuu was…

Hungry.

Yuu doesn't remember what happened next, but Yuu recalled that they stole something from Grim and attempted to eat it before waking up with ugly scratches all over their arms, face, and throat and Grim crying next to their bedside.

Yuu turned away.

-

And then seventh and eighth overblot was Idia Shroud and Malleus Draconia respectively.

These two were the most stressful moments and life-threatening situations to ever happen to Yuu.

Stepping into the island of woe where a bunch of phantoms imprisoned and a dream casted by Malleus where Yuu got dropped into a war and the Sage Island covered by a wall of thorns, isolated from the rest.

Yuu got tired of being drenched in the ink and the blood that looked so real. Yuu got tired of being dragged into every problem just to save someone.

Yuu ate the black Magestones that they managed to lay their hands on. Collecting them like treasures and eating them while savoring the taste.

The Magestones easily crushed in between their molars. The bitterness began to coat the tongue that overpowered their senses that they wanted to spit them back out.

Still, Yuu chewed. The liquid flowed to the back of the throat, and then, the sweetness began to pop up, dancing on the taste bud and then gone in an instant.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

There is no more taste left. Yuu yearned for more, but there's none left. Irrational anger and sorrow overwhelmed them.

Tears began to form and dropped down their cheeks, staining them black that is ink.

Drip, drip, drip.

The palms are coated with ink, and the floor began to form a small puddle, seeping into their dark clothes.

Yuu is starting to hate the color black and the chemical scent that came with it.

-

The ninth was Grim.

There is no phantom, there is only him, except he is not him anymore.

He is no longer tiny nor did he have a cat-like appearance and lacked his arrogant and narcisstic personality.

He is huge and now possessed bunch of tentacles and a snake for extra limbs. The blue flame surrounded his neck area like a lion's mane, enhancing the terrifying face of the beast that loomed over them.

The whole place got destroyed, and the students either ran away or were injured, but Yuu cared nothing like that.

Their vision fixed on a certain item while their palms bled ink upon grasping the broken glasses tightly

The mirror that was suppose to be Yuu's way home was smashed to smithereens, reflecting Yuu's despairing expression a thousand times as if to mock them.

-

The tenth and the final overblot was themself.

#twst

[selfishindulgencies]

we should criminalize ace trainers battling with their rhyperiors on the fucking I-40 when i'm trying to get to work on time. there is a goddamn BLISSEY on the road

( 198 notes )

🎆 faerie-type Follow

( 1,504 notes )

🎡 so-fucking-wurmple Follow

dear jirachi please send me 1,000,000,000p ^_^ (brink of tears)

🎡 so-fucking-wurmple Follow

GUYS GUYS THIS POST WAS A JOKE

I JUST GOT A CALL FROM MY MOM AND SAHHLJBGF[L;DLKJLFGDI SHE SENT ME A FREE SUPER POTION

THIS POST WORKS

🏖 hoennianblues Follow

Always reblog Lucky Jirachi Post

( 136,231 notes )

🌖 solgayleo Follow

i just saw another Youngster throwing a pokéball into the water and it completely missed and he didn't even bother to scoop up the broken pieces. i'm so fucking disappointed with this generation see this is why lapras are so endangered because they keep fuckin Literally Choking On Net Balls that you don't bother to clean up. this is one of the most bueatiful shores in the world and there are only 40 lapras left IN EXISTENCE and one washed up just last week please please please STOP SURFING and STOP BATTLING on the ocean

🏞 hurdurrgurdurr Follow

THIS!!!!! ^^^^ SIGNAL BEAM

💽 adultyoungster Follow

if you dont rb this post lets just say we're making eye contact

🛳 hmmmmsurf Follow

Wait what is op talking about? Lapras officially stopped being endangered back in 2016 and are actually an overeffective predator that are driving gastrodon populations almost to extinction in some parts of alola. This is actually just blatant misinformation? I guess??

🥘 malasada-mercy Follow

I gained a net 0 amount of information from this post 😭

( 30,439 notes )

🦠 sh1nyd3x Follow

need

🕰 omega-evolution Follow

"this is my beautiful baby his name is #00FF0E"

( 4,509 notes )

🌉 pokecomp-tweet-s Follow

( 414 notes )

🪁 macrobyke Follow

can we please normalize battling people without making eye contact. "oh oh oh its polite to warn people before you battle them!!!!" L + ratio + skill issue + never let em know your next move + dragonite use hyper beam

#pokemon #unreality #pkmn irl #fake post #pokeblr

[selfishindulgencies]

a very fun worldbuilding quirk that would suit hazbin hotel is if the whole show operated on musical logic but was self-aware about it. there are elements of this already, like vaggie begging charlie not to sing and the sharks exclaiming "they're fucking singing?" after loser baby, but i think it would be even more fun if characters actively acknowledged when they hear strains of music coming in when a song is about to start, where demons who are new to hell have to adjust to the fact that at any moment, they might burst into song without meaning to, or get swept up in a choreographed street performance that someone else set off. people having their own unique leitmotifs that blend with others depending on their relationships or mood, duets springing up between compatible voices on the fly.

alastor's insistence on reprising or crashing other demons' songs being characterized as rude or untrustworthy because what kind of dick steals your own lyrics and sings them better? what kind of demon doesn't have his own tune? vaggie being exempt from the compulsion because she's an angel, but learning to find her voice for charlie's sake so that they can sing together. angel dust only ever singing backup vocals for val bc he's val's property, and then being elated when husk draws him into a duet where their voices have equal strength. the vees bursting into "spontaneous" trios as a marketing ploy. when people sell or lose their souls, their leitmotif becomes subsumed under the melodies of their contractor. alastor only singing his own theme when he's alone; charlie humming her motif constantly, no matter where she is. lucifer forgetting the lyrics to his songs the more depressed he becomes, and rediscovering them again when he reconciles with charlie.

just, hell with an inescapable, compulsory musical culture that everyone is aware of.

#music ily #culture around music ily #<3 #hazbin hotel #music

[selfishindulgencies]

What if the Dark Urge was a companion?

I love all the companions in Baldur's Gate 3 HOWEVER, I would've loved to see Dark Urge as a companion! Imagine the sweet angst and spicey scenes!!!!

What happens to him if you choose Tav over his origin makes me sad. So, I'm making this a thing!

#omg i loge this sm #btw op im eating ur artstyle #its so yum yum delicous #bg3 #bg3 art #art #durge

[selfishindulgencies]

Empty Houses / Empty Stomachs

Sources: Kitty Horrorshow, "Anatomy" 🏚 Josh Quissy 🏚 Wikipedia (Abandonment - Legal) 🏚 Ashe Vernon, "Love Disorders and Other Heartaches" 🏚 @/churchrummagesale 🏚 Kitty Horrorshow, Anatomy (Transcribed by @/a-missing-ache) 🏚 Kitty Horrorshow, Anatomy 🏚 @/churchrummagesale 🏚 Wikipedia (Desire) 🏚@/churchrummagesale 🏚 Wikipedia (Hunger - Physiology) 🏚 Wikipedia (Desire) 🏚Emma Rebholz, “No Good Bloodsuckers" from The Misanthropy 🏚 @/zegalba

#webweaving

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here, i blur into you

(a love letter to my best friend)

ribs, lorde | kigiom | trista mateer | memorial bench for judy, from janice, source unknown | emma, jane austen | from a letter to doris dana, gabriela mistral | written on the body, jeanette winterson | sunsbleeding | friends, bts (jimin + taehyung) | we were girls together, delaney bailey

#webweaving

[selfishindulgencies]

you've all heard of "it's rotten work." "not to me. not if it's you."

on unconditional love.

(sources either on pictures or unknown)

#webweaving

[selfishindulgencies]

Zoro and Sanji's devotion to Luffy is fundamentally different in the sense that:

Zoro considers Luffy to be this sort of deity to him because he has never believed in anything, not before Luffy appeared in his life and gave him a future and a life to share while he tries to fulfill his dream. They're both kings. Equals. Zoro would go to hell and back (and has) for Luffy and would give his life for him because he has given him something bigger than his own original dream. And he worships Luffy but in a way in which both of them win because Luffy wants to devour him and Zoro wants to be consumed by him.

Sanji follows Luffy with so much dependence it would be worrisome, if it wasn't because Luffy is basically the same. Call it codependency if you want. But despite sharing the same wish for not wanting to be separated and the fear of losing each other, Sanji seems to offer his life and persona to Luffy in a way that might as well could be just Sanji giving him his heart on a platter. Sanji used to base the value of his life on not being like the Vinsmokes, but now hay he can't say that, he does that thing valuing himself as Luffy's cook.

The thing is: Zoro gives and takes. Worships and is worshipped back by a king and a god, being a king himself too. While Sanji gives and gives and refuses to take because he thinks his whole existence is to serve. Their whole lives revolve around Luffy, yes, but not in the same way.

#one piece

[selfishindulgencies]

Why do you think Luffy can keep getting up no matter how many times he’s knocked down?

You could say he was filled with DETERMINATION

#omg #beautiful art op this is gorgeous #one piece #one piece art #crossover

[selfishindulgencies]

usopp and franky are both i think the most artist characters of all time. they're both fundamentally artists. i think franky is thought of less as an artist but he is an artist. they make weird shit together, canonically.

this applies to guns and weaponry and shipbuilding parts but i do think it would apply to toys and like, stuffed animals.

anything you can make weird art never goes untouched by franky and i think usopp would follow suit in that.

i think usopps art looks a lot more calming and flowery- while theres a lot of intersection between franky and usopps styles, usopp likes things that instill more of a sense of calm, but also are more complicated.

maybe he's able to carve flowers into a dresser franky is working on, and they are able to spend all day painting it. and it comes out way more detailed than franky was expecting because he was going to just paint it a bright pattern but now it has swirls and different types of flowers that all represent every crew member. and i think franky would really appreciate getting to share art with someone. like he could ask robin or luffy or anybody really to do art with him but nobody else would be able to engage with it on the same level as usopp does. there are certainly crewmates of his with an appreciation for his and usopps art, usopp and him are probably the best at giving gifts, but i think as two people who create things theres a joy in that that only they really share.

#one piece

[selfishindulgencies]

Okay okay hear me out: everyone knows baratie. Baratie is famous across all the blues and grandline for their amazing food, crazy staff and the fact theyre basicly the only seafarring restaurant (others have tried but failed cause it was simply to wild for them)

so! Everyone from warlords to top bountys to admiral goes there once in a while to eat and it also becomes a neutral ground enforced by the staff

Who's the one serving most of these dangerous powerful people? Kid sanji, tiny eggplant. And they enjoy the bratty kid serving them that most people actually ask for him. They teach him a few things as well because honestly hes their nephew at that point

So when he joins the strawhat he seemingly knows almost everyone they come across much to the confusion of his nakama and the regualar baratie guests are just hoping they don't get banner for life by fighting sanji

Congrats! Nephew!Sanji is now a thing and he has been adopted by the ENTIRE world...mostly. This is so fucking funny to me.

Sanji just wants to be cooking, he's like twelve when the head waiter comes back and says someone is asking for Sanji to wait on them. Sanji just groans and curses that he's busy but Zeff kicks him out so he's pouting the whole way to the table. First it's the Admirals and Vice Admirals. Then individual Warlords. Pirates with bounties higher than the amount of money Sanji will ever see in his life.

When Sanji kicks unruly guests some will correct his posture. Some will pat his shoulder or ruffle his hair. Sanji grumbles the entire time every time it happens until he sets sail. Zeff gets letters routinely from the people Sanji runs into, not from Sanji himself. The crew always looks at Sanji with questioning looks every time someone knows him.

Like Garp. Or Crocus. Crocodile. Rayleigh. After the time skip Sanji thinks he's free of running into people who know him but finds that almost all the supernovas have eaten at Baratie at some point while he was there and he wants to scream.

Zeff has a cork board in his office divided straight down the middle, one side has the letters of those no longer permitted to eat at Baratie the other has the letters of those who can. Luffy's poster is split in half and has a piece pinned to each side but Zoro's is firmly on the "not allowed" side after how much time the crew spent scrubbing his blood off the deck.

#aww #one piece

[selfishindulgencies]

yes & no by natalie wee

#poetry #words #love

[selfishindulgencies]

“Forgive me father for I have sinned, I have loved a woman more desperately than I have loved God. I have looked to a woman more reverently than I have the sky. There, in the sulk of her bottom lip, I find myself talking about a heaven that only exists when she is looking at me, father she has not been forged between the dip of my teeth, she is not my rib, or my left side, she is my entire stomach, she is my spine. I have been searching for prayer, father but I have found that I can only say her name Dear God, let me have her Dear God, let her rest with me Dear God, let the sky turn red from how we burn The plum tree in our back garden has withered because I have not seen the sun for five days. I have been worshipping at the cradle of her hips father, she has cleansed me with those hands and those eyes, I do not know how to turn unless it is towards her, I do not know where to go except in her direction.”

— Azra.T “Take Me to Church”

#poetry #words

[selfishindulgencies]

WHY ARE YOU HAUNTED?

A survey

#poetry #words #hauntings