#It just sort of happened

[strawlessandbraless]

Flaming sword ⚔️ flaming bisexual, what’s the difference really?

#i’m sorry #it just sort of happened #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #destiel #castiel #deancas #jensen ackles #spn crack #david tennant #good omens #good omens spoilers #michael sheen #michael sword #flaming sword #spn 13x06 #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #spn edit #spnedit #good omens edit

[depravitycentral]

Tw: misogany, non-con, incels, gender/power dynamics, writing this made me feel icky, if you are a person who genuinely believes in anything described in this post please consider changing your opinions, fem reader, MDNI, don't ask me where this post came from because I don't know

Thinking about men that think your rightful place is by his side as his woman.

You bring out this side of him that's brand new to him; this side urging him to utterly dominate you, to be in full control of your bank accounts, your friendships, your hobbies, even your own body. There's this new urge to make you ask for permission for everything, to just pin you down and stuff you full of him every hour of every day because it's your job. It's your duty to take his cock - you were made for it.

He's never been particularly misogynistic, but when he looks at you, all he sees is the beautiful, wonderful, perfect woman that he must domesticate. You're too wild on your own - too free-spirited, brainwashed into believing this 'modern woman' crap - there's a reason the man does the work and the woman stays at home. Don't you know that?

He's strong - you're not. (And he knows it, too - after a night of fucking, all the bruises littering your body and the way your legs struggle to hold you steady is proof enough. The way he can easily lift the heavy wooden bedframe of your shared bed is enough - you can only lift a corner of it off the ground, after all. The way he can get you to shut up with just a simple, stern look should be enough evidence.)

He's street-smart - you're not. (He understands what other men want and what you're good for - it's not sexist when he tells you that the shirt you're wearing is too revealing. He won't hesitate to tell you that your entire chest is basically out, angel, and you can't be showing the world one of your best assets. He understands that you're not strong or skilled enough to fight another man off should he decide he wants you - you'll try to fight, sure, but that'll only get the other man going, your resistance only getting them harder and more lustful, and when you inevitably give in - because you always will, all women will - he knows you might even enjoy it.)

He's smart - you're not. (You think you are - and you're right about some things, sure. You know the best ways to bathe yourself - he's never been as thorough as you, he's humble enough to admit that - and how to make delicious pie, and the best way to make the bed warm and soft. But there's a lot of things you don't know, like who to vote for at the next election, or how to change a tire, or how to use a debit card.)

He's a man. And you're not. And he likes that you aren't - he's attracted to you because of your feminine charms; your curves, your softness, your smell, the sound of your voice, and - of course - the fact that you are utterly, utterly his property. As his wife (your consent in the matter is hardly important; his last name is yours now, and that's all there really is to it), all your decisions are made by him. He tells you what to wear, what to get at the grocery store, how to address other men, how to smile, everything that he knows is too much for you to handle.

And, of course, he teaches you other things. Things that he knows you are - should be, at least - clueless about. So cute, huh?

He's patient when he tells you to sink to your knees, palms pressing on the top of your head as he pushes you down, softly shushing you when you start to protest. He's patient as he slips his briefs down, his cock already red and throbbing and big, making your cheeks look even softer and rounder, your glassy eyes and prettier. He's talking you through it as he traces his tip - wet and sticky and leaving a smear of bitter precum on your skin - around your lips, the look in his eye nearly boyish with excitement.

He's gentle when he grasps your chin between two fingers (much stronger than your own, of course) to keep you steady, shuffling his hips forward so that his tip (bulbous and red and positively glistening, already looking so swollen you're sure he won't last but a minute) slips past your lips. He keeps going until you're gagging, letting his eyes flutter closed for a moment before immediately opening them once more because the sight of you below him, on your knees for him, shutting you up with his cock down your throat is oh so right.

He's patient when he pushes you face-first into the bed, running a hand over your hair and sighing to himself because god, aren't you pretty? His hands are on your hips immediately, pushing down on your lower back to get the arch of your back deeper, tighter, more intense because it looks better this way - it's better for him this way, and isn't sex really only about the man?

He's even generous enough to be gentle when he's pushing himself inside you - keeping the pace slow but consistent, hissing and letting a few comments of 's so damn tight, fuck and cunt was made for me, shit slipping past his lips. He's kind enough to give you a few moments (perhaps three) to adjust to his size, before he's smacking your ass and pulling your hair, fucking into you like an animal because you're his to use.

And he's not afraid to say it - t's all harsh thrusts that make audible slapping noises as his balls - very, very sensitive and very, very full - smack against you over and over, strong fingers grabbing at your skin and keeping you in place, just so he can ram into that one spot over and over and over, because he thinks the deeper he goes the more he's claiming you. He's groaning at you with stuttered breaths that you were made to get fucked by me, o-oh shit, this tight hole's only thing you're good for and accentuating the idea with his fingers groping at your breast and using it as leverage to pull you back further and get deeper.

The air is hot and smells like musk and cum and sex, every inch of your body unable to think of anything but him - just as it should be, really. He's grabbing onto the pretty, silver collar he's forced around your throat as he thrusts, the tracker inlaid into the metal feeling familiar to his fingertips and making his thrusts harder because he must know where you are at all times - you're his property and he can't lose you.

After all, if you were gone, who would he dress up to look all pretty for him then? (He's still dressing you up even in the humiliating outfits he forces you to parade around in at home - the cooking aprons and nothing else, giving him easy access to hump your bare ass from behind while you work at the stove, cooking him dinner all the while you keep his cock warm between those pretty legs of yours.)

If you were gone, who would wake him up with lips around his cock, soft gagging noises filling the air alongside songbirds as he gets a proper good morning?

If you were gone, who would listen to his endless rants about his horrible coworkers and friends and anyone that pissed him off all while he pounds a beer and jokes about how good you look while you load the washing machine full of his dirty clothes - you look nice bent over, sweetheart, why don't you stay in there for a bit and let me blow off some steam?

Of course, all of this is fine and dandy - owning you is the dream, and having you as his pretty, helpless, clueless little wife is the ultimate fantasy. He lays awake at night sometimes imagining how you'd be as his housewife - the pretty ring on your finger, how you'd eagerly wait at the door for his arrival home from work everyday, how you'd meticulously put on your makeup and style your hair and wear the pretty lingerie he'd bought you just so that you look as attractive and desirable to him as possible.

But first, he needs to show you your place as his woman, and get rid of this misplaced sense of independence you seem to be clutching onto for dear life. Stupid girl.

(His belt is unbuckled as soon as the door closes behind the two of you, his smile something between sinister and elated as he tells you to not bother working at the knot keeping your hands tied behind your back - tying knots is men's work, and you'll hurt your pretty fingers and hands. You'll need those later, so quit picking.)

Enji Todoroki, AFO, Nobunaga Hazama, Illumi Zoldyck, Daichi Sawamura, Kenjiro Shirabu, I don't write for aot or jjk but also Floch Forester, Eren Jeager and Naoya Zenin

#yandere hxh #yandere bnha #yandere haikyuu #yandere aot #_lee rambles #_i don't really know what this is #it just sort of happened #i promise i don't support misogyny #_enji todoroki #_AFO #_Nobunaga hazama #_illumi zoldyck #_daichi sawamura #_kenjiro shirabu #_floch forester #_eren jeager

[inconveniently-discorporated]

SGFAFAGDJDKhavzgsgaj

I JUST NOTICED CROWLEY'S EYES AREN'T SNAKE EYES IN THIS SHOT BECAUSE HE'S NOT A DEMON

THIS MAKES ME SAD, WHY DOES THIS MAKE ME SAD? FFSDAFGJJKJHGDSSFG

(probably because he now HIDES HIS EYES from EVERYONE and those were the eyes that lit up at the sight of the stars and it just reinforces everything that was taken from him)

BUT ON A BRIGHTER NOTE (literally), WE DO HAVE THIS

As much as I feel this scene foreshadows the end conversation where he basically implies he wants to change everything, it still also reinforces that he loves Crowley as he is now.

And so now I'm even more entrenched in the idea that Aziraphale wasn't saying, "I want to change you for Heaven," he was saying, "I need you to come back and change Heaven the way you changed me."

And as a further follow up to my other post about Aziraphale getting in "their" car and promptly changing everything -- all the ways he changed it are the ways Crowley changed for him.

Crowley went too fast, and then he slowed down for the angel.

Crowley played his role hard in Job, but then he showed his sweeter side.

Crowley wears black shades everywhere else, but in the bookshop he reveals those brilliant yellow eyes.

SO REALLY, WHAT I THINK I'M SAYING, IS ON THE SURFACE THE WHOLE AZIRAPHALE/BENTLEY THING APPEARED TO BE ABOUT HIM CHANGING CROWLEY (THE WAY HIS DIALOGUE AT THE END APPEARS TO BE THE SAME WAY)

BUT IT'S REALLY ABOUT EMBRACING ALL THE WAYS CROWLEY HAD MADE HIMSELF VULNERABLE TO THE ANGEL AND WANTING THE WORLD (AND HEAVEN) TO SEE THE SIDE OF HIM HE LOVES SO MUCH (AND CROWLEY RESISTING THAT & NOT BEING READY TO TAKE OFF THE GLASSES)

#good omens #gos2 spoilers #good omens meta #this wasn't supposed to be a meta #it just sort of happened #crowley's bentley

[backjustforberena]

EVE BEST as  VANESSA BELL  in “Life In Squares”, for @deiasilva10 thanks to @evebestonline for the footage.

#i was not going to make this many gifs i swear #it just sort of happened #also that show loved eve in profile I'm just saying #my gifs #eve best #vanessa bell #life in squares #lifeinsquaresedit

[mokah]

3k follower sim dump!

there are so many of you here now! to celebrate here is a small sim dump.

each of these sims comes with one outfit, the rest is up to you! all cc is included. this time around i have provided links to each individual sim so that you may choose which one you’d like. thank you all so much,  enjoy! :)

mediafire links

sims from top left:

tristan nguyen | yusra saab | fia rocha | micah chastain | queenie cuizon 

sims file share links

tristan nguyen | yusra saab | fia rocha | micah chastain | queenie cuizon 

thanks to all cc creators. my sims are nothing without you <3 

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #sim download #i did not intend for all of these sims to have brown eyes #it just sort of happened

[gunpowdercarousel]

Lae'zel, sweetie, we are both LITERALLY decomposing right now, maybe now's not the best time to...

...

Ah, fuck it. Get over here.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 memes #lae'zel #i didn't even mean to romance her this run #it just sort of happened #i am weak

[incoherent-sounds]

they're multiplying. help.

#i might have a problem #it just sort of happened #but i regret nothing #stardew valley #sdv #stardew valley 1.6 #sdv 1.6 #manequin invasion #1.6 spoilers

[666writingcafe]

Mammon's Object

The House of Lamentation (8)

MC: I am going to have to return to the human world soon, but before I go, I would like an object from each of you that I can take with me and use to summon you.

"Don't laugh." The request slips out of my mouth before I can stop myself. Logically, I know that MC probably won't make fun of me, but there's always been a part of me that's afraid that they will. I mean, my brothers use me as the punchline every chance they get. Why should MC be any different?

"I promise." With that, I reach down and unclip the keychain from my belt loop. MC's eyes light up as I hand it to them.

"It's your chocolate frog!" they exclaim. "I thought you would have gotten rid of it by now."

And lose the memories attached to it? Never.

"This is the one thing I wouldn't give to anyone, no matter how much money they offered me for it." I glance down, rubbing the back of my neck. I quietly add,

"Except for you, of course. I'll give it to you for free." Before I have time to react, MC presents me with their chocolate frog.

"I don't see the point in having two," they explain. "Plus, as you probably noticed, I've made it so that it looks like it's wrapped in--"

"--gold," I finish. "MC, I...I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything." They step closer to me and lean in close. "There are lots of ways to express gratitude that don't involve words."

I feel my face grow hotter and my heart beat faster.

They always have a way of making me nervous. In the back of my mind, I'm constantly afraid of driving them away by saying or doing the wrong thing, which is quite foreign to me. The only other time I've actively sought someone's approval was in the Celestial Realm when I was under the guidance of...

Lucifer.

Of course.

That's why the Ring of Light chose them. It all makes sense. They have the same energy. Everyone is drawn to them in some way, regardless of rank or species.

I wonder if they will succumb to their pride the way Lucifer did. Having that much power can warp a person's mind and make them believe things that aren't necessarily true or ideal.

And yet...

From what I've heard, MC was ready to end it all in order to save the people they love. While Lucifer certainly wanted all of us to be treated better, his main motivation during the War was power. He wished to usurp our Father because he thought he should be the one in charge.

That doesn't appear to be the case for MC, which already sets them on a different path than any that Lucifer has ever taken.

That is what truly makes them special.

#obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #don't ask me where the second half of this came from #it just sort of happened #like a lot of things i write on here

[burstingsunrise]

press you to the pages of my heart 🍓💋️

#luke hemmings #moodboard #i actually didn't mean for this to be so valentine-esque #it just sort of happened #and now it looks like i'm really late for valentine's day #the real story is i saw that poll about what drink you get at the gas station #and got irritated diet coke wasn't an option #then set out to make a mb with diet coke in it #the more you know #this is a thing i did

[sucrosette]

★— ⋆｡˚ [Bring Him Comfort Pt. 2]

For Day 10 of Carry on Countdown 23, Wrath. @carryon-countdown

Continued thoughts on not such a terrible boyfriend. You can find part one here.

This is rated T, again, for the language, themes and parental feelings.

⋆｡˚

The wrath of Simon Snow was a thing to behold. All fire and righteousness, flashing hot enough to scorch any in the vicinity. It was an easy thing for Baz to empathize with, even when he had been at the brunt of it. It had been often enough that he’d been at the brunt of it that he could see it stirring in Simon now.

Now, the morning after a particularly nasty fight with his father, the morning after his father had made him bloody cry and bolt off on pure instinct, the morning after he’d stumbled to Simon’s with no warning and no expectations. Baz should’ve called first, out of courtesy’s sake, but Simon always welcomed him. He’d been bloody perfect, bloody fucking sweet, and now he was bloody fucking fuming.

Maybe he should’ve left the talking until after breakfast. Simon’s always a bit more logical after a meal in his stomach, more amenable, but Simon’d asked when they woke up. “Do you want to talk about it?” all sweet and gentle with his asking.

Of course Baz wanted to talk about it, he was just emotionally constipated. He always wanted to talk to Simon about his feelings, sometimes it just took a moment to settle and a gentle prod before it all came tumbling out.

And Crowley.

Had it all tumbled out.

So now, just after they’d showered and gotten cleaned up and clothed fresh, Simon was fuming, somewhat more than slightly. Simon had a back-up pair of those jeans, specifically for Baz, which had brought him a moment of a smirk. Baz wasn’t about to ask exactly where he’d gotten funds to buy Baz’s best pair of designer jeans, but he did appreciate Simon’s attention to detail, despite the fuming.

“I’m going to give him a talking to,” Simon decided three bites into breakfast.

“Please do not, Simon,” Baz could feel all the tired of the night before come rushing back through every fibre of his being, “He’s not going to change from one talking to.”

“But,” Simon protested, “What if that talk… involved… my fists. Or, better yet, a sword.”

If it hadn’t been such a ridiculous idea, it would have sounded logical to Baz’s sleep deprived brain. “Snow, please. That’s not going to help the issue, it would only catch you assault charges, and I much prefer you out of jail.”

“Well–” Simon’s face looked just a little bit sadistic with whatever he was thinking, “–I’ve already gotten away with one murder–”

“Simon.” Baz cut that train of though short with a hand firm over one of Simon’s, stopping him from that bite of scramble he’d been about to scarf down. “Don’t bloody joke about that. We both know you had zero intentions of what happened to the mage.”

Sometimes… it felt a little odd to just call him the mage like that, after all Baz knew about the bloke, but he didn’t bother to correct himself on it. There were more important things to focus on than what to call the man.

“I know,” Simon huffed, his wings flaring slightly with his annoyance, “But I’m still bloody pissed your dad still treats you like that.”

“Yes, well, you can’t solve everything with your fists, Simon Snow.”

Simon huffed again, much more dramatically and Baz took that as his cue to get more coffee. He stood up to do so and pressed a kiss to Simon’s forehead as he passed, his spare hand squeezing Simon’s shoulder at the same moment. “Do you want anything from the kitchen while I get my coffee?”

Simon only shook his head, but Baz could see the wheels in his head were still turning.

“I’ll be back in a moment, alright? We can talk more if it would help.”

A soft hum was his answer and Baz supposed that it was the best answer he would get just then. Simon leaned his head back over his chair, watching Baz disappear into the kitchen, and Baz figured that was a good sign too. He really didn’t want to worry about Simon getting into trouble.

Of course, only three minutes later, when Basil exited the kitchen, the table was bereft of any Simon Snows. He checked the bathroom first, and then the bedroom, maybe he’d needed warmer socks, but no. Simon was not in the apartment. A fact annoyingly confirmed by his winter coat not being on the hook and his boots not being at the door.

The keys to the Ford Anglia, thankfully, were still hanging by the door above his own shoes. Baz shoved on his shoes as quickly as was reasonable and found his own way out the door and into the car, certain he’d find Simon walking angrily along the way towards his father’s house.

Just three blocks down, Baz caught up to Simon.

Baz scooted the Ford out of the main thoroughway and slowed down to a crawl, thanking Merlin and Morgana both that the road was empty but for him so he could keep pace with Simon as he reached over to roll the manual window down.

Simon was ignoring him, as though they were in some kind of fight, and Baz couldn’t help but laugh a little under his breath at that. “Simon!” Baz called, “Darling, please, it’s a two hour walk.” He knew because he’d done it in his own fits of annoyance on more than one occasion.

“I don’t care!” Simon shouted back, and Baz could see his wings bristling under his overly large coat as he started storming that much quicker down the pavement.

“At least get in the car with me, love, it’s bloody near freezing out there,” Baz tried again, attention painfully divided between the road and Simon.

It was enough to make Simon stop in his tracks. “Will you at least drive us there?”

Baz stopped the car beside him, flashing his emergency lights just in case. “We will talk about it more while I drive and not make any one-sided decisions. Does that seem fair?”

Simon grimaced down at Baz, but he took a step towards the car. Eventually, after a long moment of furrowed brows and contemplation, he took another. Finally, he closed the gap the rest of the way and slid into the passenger side, rolling up the window to block out the cold. “Fine. We’ll talk about it.”

“We can get comfort sweets after we talk, alright?” Baz offered a hand to Simon as he corrected the car back out to the road.

Simon took his hand and squeezed, his own silent acquiescence. “I demand at least a pound of liquorice.”

“We’ll get us the big tub, the stupid sweet red kind,” Baz agreed, “And some caramel corn and set up a dumb movie to watch after whatever we decide on. But no rushing into things alright?”

“I still think the sodding bastard deserves a kick to the shins and a fist to the face,” Simon huffed again, pouting something ferocious beside Basil, “I really bloody dislike him right now.”

“I know, love,” Baz soothed, “I do too, but I also don’t really have the energy for another fight today after last night.”

Simon glanced over sideways at him and his grip on Basil’s hand softened some, “You think he’ll come ‘round on us ever?”

Baz’s grip on the steering wheel tensed, his lips pursed as he thought of the possibilities, and eventually a sigh slipped from his lips. “I don’t truly know. I hope he will, often. I love him still. But he’s not doing a great job of accepting us so far, is he?”

“He really isn’t…” Simon’s nose scrunched up as he said it and Baz just caught it out of the corner of his eyes, a moment of fondness softening his own expression.

“If you really want,” Basil caved slightly, “I will drive us over there today. If it’s so important you say something to him directly. But no assault, please.”

“Ah,” Simon breathed with a shake of his head, “No. I was just… I don’t like how he treats you. It makes me impulsive. More than usual. Let’s not today. Let’s get our sweets, detox, and go from there.”

Baz corrected the car, squeezing Simon’s hand gently, already taking them towards Simon’s preferred sweet shop. “Thank you, love.”

“I don’t want to make it worse for you,” Simon muttered against the skin of Baz’s fingertips, pressing soft kisses over each of them while they drove, “I don’t want to wear you down more. I just wish he could love you like you deserve.”

“You love me like I deserve,” Baz answered without a moment's hesitation, “That’s really all I need.” 

#Carry On Countdown #COC 2023 #baz pitch #simon snow #snowbaz #carry on fanfiction #my writing #emotional hurt/comfort #i wasn't really expecting this to be a continuation #it just sort of happened #angry simon #what the world needs #he's such a good boyfriend

[wormspoodle]

amazing rope guy is the type of guy to say 'aw nutz' when something doesn't go his way. hes the type of guy to say 'i'll sleep on it' when making a decision. he looks like he's named shawn. shawn looks like he eats cheese whiz with crackers. shawn looks like he collects transformers. shawn is a complainer over everything- his internal monologue is just a one of those 1 star yelp reviews. shawn looks like he joined a circus at one point. he looks like he doesn't preform well under pressure. he looks like a smoothie enjoyer

#drop your amazing rope guy head canons #i don't have an explanation guys #it just sort of happened #wordgirl #amazing rope guy #wordgirl amazing rope guy #worms doodles

[loopielupie]

Whumptober Day 8 & Day 13 - Overcrowded ER & "I don't feel so good"

The place is crowded.

Sasaki curses under his breath as he scans for an open seat. There's nothing. The atmosphere prickles with anxiety and all it does is make Sasaki want to yell at someone, anyone to help. But it doesn't work that way and getting himself escorted out is the last thing he wants when-

"Shuumei-san?"

He snaps out of it as Miyano leans further into his support, blinking up at him with fever-glazed eyes. Sasaki bites the inside of his cheek and eyes the queue for reception with a slowly building dread.

"Mya-chan, d'ya think you can keep standing?" he asks through the lump in his throat, trying not to think about the heat he can feel radiating from him.

"I...I'm not sure," he whispers, airily and Sasaki feels the truth of his hesitation in how his legs have started shaking. Thankfully, a woman notices them and waves them over, gesturing to her now open seat next to a young girl holding an obviously broken arm. On autopilot Sasaki gets them there, easing Miyano into the chair and thanking the woman, mechanically. He know it's rude but he pays no attention to anything she might say. Miyano sinks into the seat and Sasaki does want to leave him but he has to. Instead he shrugs off his jacket and lays it over him.

"I gotta go get you checked in, ok? I'll be right back."

"I'll be here," Miyano replies, still quiet but with enough humour that Sasaki can't help but smile. He quickly squeezes Miyano's hand and scurries off to join the queue, behind a man with a poorly bandaged hand he tries not to look at.

Thankfully, the receptionists are efficient and in no time at all he's rattling off Miyano's symptoms and personal details and pointing over to where Miyano's still sitting.

"They'll see you soon, ok?"

Sasaki...can't be sure about that but he takes the offered emesis basin, thanks her, and hurries as much as he can back to Miyano's side. The woman and her daughter are gone so Sasaki sinks into the seat next to Miyano.

"What'd...they say?"

"You'll be seen soon," Sasaki replies.

Miyano hums and it sounds pained as much as agreeable. Sasaki doesn't hesitate to coax him closer, tucking him against his side and trying resolutely not to think about how hot Miyano's breaths are against his neck. The last time he checked, his fever was 39.3 but Sasaki has no way of knowing if it's gone up since then.

"You holdin' up ok?" It feels weak even as he asks it and Sasaki wants to kick himself but there are dozens of people here and Saski has no way of knowing when they'll be seen and he feels so useless.

"'m tired." It comes out as a whine and Sasaki runs his fingers through sweat-damp hair. Screw the people around him.

"Sleep, I'll wake you when they call you."

Miyano shifts a little, likely trying to get comfortable in the hard plastic chair. Sasaki accommodates as best he can but with the harsh lights and the constant bustle of movement and noise, he's not sure it matters. He watches the room around him, glaring at one older man who looks at them just a bit too long and a bit too sideways. He starts every time a nurse or doctor comes to call someone through and feels a little more helpless each time it's not them. Logically, this is a good thing: not being prioritised means Miyano isn't dying or anything. but when he's curled up on a waiting room chair shivering and suffering Sasaki can't help it.

Suddenly, Miyano lurches upright, and Sasaki barely avoids a knock to the chin but it's forgotten immediately. Miyano doubles over with a whine and gags. Sasaki fumbles the basin into his hands as Miyano retches again. But there's nothing to come up so all he does is gag and cough and choke. Sasaki holds him through it, murmuring meaningless nonsense like 'breathe. it's ok. I've got you'. His eyes burn.

When Miyano is finally done, he rocks back, slumping down in the seat. He looks even paler now, more exhausted. Sasaki abandons the basin and gently wipes away the drying tears on his cheeks. Miyano leans into the touch but Sasaki hates the way his face crumples like he's holding back more tears.

"I don't...I don't feel so good," Miyano whispers, shoulders climbing to his ears.

"I know, Yoshikazu," Sasaki gentles, cupping his flushed face and guiding him back to rest against his collar. "'m sorry."

Miyano makes a sound something like a protest, but Sasaki just shushes him quietly and tries not to let his heartbreak show on his face.

The door opens again. Another person is called. Sasaki wants to scream, but that wouldn't get them anywhere. So he tucks Miyano closer, runs fingers through his hair as he shivers, and feels helpless.

All they can do is wait.

#whumptober 2023 #no.8 #overcrowded er #no.13 #“I don't feel so good” #sasaki and miyano #fic #vomiting tw #sickfic #sasaki shuumei #miyano yoshikazu #this got out of hand #I did not intend to have another fic with vomiting #It just sort of happened

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

I started step four but took these out thinking I might put them through steps 1-3 again but now that theyre dry they feel a lot smoother which makes me think I should've moved them on...

One side of the moss agate is super smooth but the side thats been getting a divet ground into it is very rough

The pink ones feel much smoother dry than they did wet.....but they do still have some rough spots where the original rock broke apart....should've taken my big piece of quartz down to see if it fits and how much space for other rocks will be around it

#my dads downstairs telling his jalapeño story again #and my mom and his friend are making fun of him for it #especially his friend cuz they havent known each other that long and he already knows the story by heart #ive been hearing it my whole life from both him and my grandpa #i can repeat it in the exact same tone of voice as my grandpa from memory #anyway #i think i might take the rocks i took out and toss them in the polish #along with a couple other rocks... #i forgot to throw my petrified wood in cuz i wasnt necessarily planning on moving them onto the polish today #it just sort of happened #i felt like step 3 smoothed them out as much as it was going to #tempted to throw the quartz i found last night in too.......its not as smooth tho #but just putting it through the polish might not be as hard on the mica inclusions...... #and im doing soft rocks next so if i dont put them through polish now ill have to wait even longer for them........... #and im impatient......

[miraculus-dragon]

Thoughts on Mlbat

In a couple, or maybe more, of the ml x batman fanfic, there's a common theme of batfam being suspicious of civilian Marinette with too many secrets. Or Adrien being bad simply for having a villain father. Often time following that theme is them thinking the worst, and usually have demands for secrets to be shared.

I just, I get it, paranoid detectives with large amounts of trauma, standing on the side of "good".

In their view, and in many's view, these are heroes yes, but, moral and ethic, good vs bad is too complex and nuance than simply black or white.

Not the point.

Many times fanfic write out their near-invasive ways of getting these answers while maintaining a level of suspicion and assumption of the absolute worst. And I find that dynamic really, really unfair, hypocritical, and potentially toxic. It's making me grow salty toward the bats just a little bit more each time, and I don't think that's fair or healthy either.

I don't know I just want to rant a bit because I'm about to explode into sodium chloride.

#maribat #ml x batman #rant #reading fics with unexpected salt-inducing element back to back probably wasn't a good idea either #I didn't even plan on it #it just sort of happened #and that's why it made me upset ig

[dualmessiahs]

wrote just under 3k words today and ended up finishing the oneshot i started.

#writing post #i was...not expecting to do that #it just sort of happened #i'll have to read it again and edit later but i may post this thing soon

[aquatic-bees]

Opened up my drawing app because I realized I haven’t drawn anything in ages and ended up with a design for a dress. It’s not anything spectacular but I think it looks nice enough to share.

#digital art #not great but I think it’s good #it just sort of happened #I mean it’s nice #it wasn’t intentional