#hnnnnnnnngh
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‘Aftermath’ by artist formerlycopycat on Deviantart
Please visit the link below to visit the artist and see their description for full context behind the image
#biker mice from mars#biker mice#bmfm#vinniexcharley#charlinnie#vinnie#charley#charvinnie#otp#90s cartoons#90s nostalgia#hnnnnnnnngh#moar pls#guys I can’t#they’re so sweet
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me: yeah, my classmate was talking about her wife growing up in brazil, so i think she learned portuguese for her wife's benefit.
my friend, who moved back to brazil after finishing at jmu: would you learn portuguese for my benefit?
me:
me:
me:
me: QUINN IS HE FLIRTING WITH ME????
#amy rambles#what i actually said was 'i'd do my very best because obviously you learned english for MY benefit'#HELP I DON'T KNOW HOW TO FLIRT AND I REALLY DON'T WANT TO SCARE HIM#HNNNNNNNNGH
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Spaghetti with roasted garlic my beloved
#random thoughts#mmmh. fuck yeah#due to being autistic they are kept separately. i can't even eat sandwiches together#should've realized i was autistic sooner. i mean. none of the other kids were peeling the ham off of their toast and#blotting the moisture off the fucking. bread#the texture of untoasted bread is a nightmare for me. i swear to god if it's not toasted i will slap my dad#unholy shit. anygays#the roasted garlic is fucking amazing. the spaghetti is lovely. i put parmesan on it because that is acceptable#agh. i am in love#it is actually perfect? texture wise? i mean. obviously my favorite food is tomato soup because#NO TEXTURE. MY BELOVED#but this. mmmmmh#hnnnn#hnnnnnnnngh#the flavors are melting on my tongue#FUCK. amazing
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Do You Love the Locked Tomb? How about Thirsty Sword Lesbians?
Both? Then I’ve got something cool for you to look at.
(yeah I did use my own cosplay photos, don’t @ me)
The Beefcake and The Corpsewright playbooks for Thirsty Sword Lesbians!
While both are inspired by Tamsyn Muir’s Locked Tomb series, they are setting-agnostic (especially the Beefcake), so you can use them in any TSL game!
So what’s in them? Details below the cut.
This playbook includes everything you need to bring the beefiest of herbos to your table:
A custom ability, "The Heart of the Matter"
1 exclusive playbook move and 8 other playbook moves, including
Studied the Blade
Dummy Thicc
You Fight Good
Truths of Heart and Blade
How to Play the Beefcake
GM Moves for the Beefcake
On to the necromancer!
This playbook includes everything you need to bring a gothic, repressed necromancer to your table:
A custom track, "Leech"
1 exclusive playbook move and 8 other playbook moves, including
Horny for Revenge
Scientific Rigor
A Second, Smaller Heartache
Truths of Heart and Blade
How to Play the Corpsewright
GM Moves for the Corpsewright
You can find them both on my itch page. I created them for the Loose Playbooks Jam. I hope you check them out and rate if you like them!
#ttrpg#thirsty sword lesbians#locked tomb#gideon the ninth#harrow the ninth#hnnnnnnnngh here they are#I'm so excited to share these
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WAIT WAIT WAIT WHEN WHERE VIL WHY IS THE EXPOSED CHEST WHAR CARD I MISSED OUT AND RETURNED FEOM THE DEAD HAJDKABDJSNDJSNDBNS
HIS NEW EVENT CARD WE'RE GOING TO THE LAND OF PYROXENE BABY WE'RE GONNA GO TO THE SOIL WHERE HE WAS BIRTHED AND RAISED AND CRIED ON WE'RE GOING TO STEP ON THE LAND HE BLESSED WITH THE SOLES OF HIS FEET AND POSSIBLY HOPEFULLY MEET THE MAN WHO BROUGHT HIM TO LIFE
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and Min Oh's smile instantly gets me to stop crying for thirty seconds. i'm bottling that up and storing that on the shelf for emergency serotonin y'all are going to have to get in line
#tv: moon in the day#moon in the day#pyo ye jin#kim young dae#kdrama#local gay watches MITD.txt#local gay watches k-dramas.txt#it's the way Joon Oh sent the fire station a coffee truck and Min Oh is there on his brother's behalf and he sees Young Hwa#and they smile at each other. have me going through a rollercoaster of emotions rn i just need him to be happy for the rest#of his life with his brother hnnnnnnnngh
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struck down by Thinking About Friends' OCs Plague again!!!
#news from the cupola#people! have! such! cool! characters!! and I want to HEAR about them!!!!#but I cannot clown to clown communicate about it at this time because I must do Productive things beforehand! unfortunate!#hnnnnnnnngh! augh!!!!
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Of A Cyclical Nature
I have Awoken and am Choosing Violence, so I’m putting this blankshipping writing under a read more because of past offscreen major character death with no happy ending, my favorite type of submas angst, and anyway:
Ingo working hard, like really really hard, in pursuit of his lost memories. He chases down leads, he explores every distortion bubble he can get to, he battles Akari every moment she's available to try and knock loose a few more recollections. And it works! It takes time, and effort, and nearly running himself into the ground, but it works! Ingo can finally put a name to his Man in White! He finally knows who Emmet is!
Ingo feels so horrible that he ever forgot him, because they were partners, in every sense and meaning of the word, how on earth did he live alone for so long without Emmet?
Dialga and Palkia prove to be useless, so Ingo borrows the Azure Flute from Akari to speak with Arceus. Akari gives him a strange look, then sighs and tells him not to misplace it this time. Ingo has no idea why Akari would think he's the one doing anything with her Flute, she's the one who keeps accidentally leaving it in his hut, but he's too eager to stop and bicker about it. Maybe Arceus can send him back to his first home, and even unlock the rest of his memories!
So Ingo hauls ass to the wrecked Temple of Sinnoh, and plays the Azure Flute, and is granted audience. And he politely kneels and bows his head before the towering form before him and asks that Arceus might let him go back where he came from, to Unova and Nimbasa City and Gear Station with all of the depot agents and Elesa and with Emmet.
And Arceus refuses.
Ingo isn't sure if something was lost in communication somewhere, so he asks again. Arceus refuses again.
And Ingo starts to get pissed, because why not? This is a god we're talking about. If Arceus is really as almighty as the people of Hisui say, and as gracious and kind, then this should be something easy for It to do, so why the hell not?
Ingo raises up off his knees, back to his full height, grits his teeth and pulls out Gliscor's pokeball. Arceus looks down Its nose at him like a bug.
"Do you truly want to remember?"
"I do."
Arceus makes a sound almost like a sigh. Ingo bristles. And then-
and then his head is so full, he sees Emmet next to him with their hands joined between them, he sees Nimbasa City lit up in the night, he sees Lostlorn Forest and a wild Zoroark that looks so so different from the ones he knows here, Chandelure and Eelektross guarding their eggs together in their nest, Cloud corralling the depot agents, Elesa laughing at him over a drink, Emmet and Elesa telling him to hurry up, Emmet bright and excited after a battle, Emmet whistling at the stove while he cooks breakfast, Emmet telling him that he loves him, Emmet Emmet Emmet-
Memorial. Gravestone. Offered flowers he doesn't want to see. Offered food he doesn't want to eat.
Ingo feels like he might be sick.
He opens his eyes without realizing he'd screwed them shut. His forehead is on the ground. His throat is raw. He feels like he can barely breathe.
"Do you remember now?"
He does. An accident. Emmet had taken his shift.
It should have been him.
"Your place now is here, to help guide the people toward a united future- that was our agreement, so long as I took your memories."
Ingo curls into himself. It was a waste, all of it. All of his efforts had been for nothing. He can't go home, because home is gone, home went before its time and left him behind, alone.
Ingo sees himself in a graveyard, hollow shell, empty husk, stepping through the offered rift next to two plots, only one of them empty as a broken promise. Sees himself at the Temple of Sinnoh with the Azure Flute, but it's wrong, this is autumn now, his memories speak of springtime.
"I've...I've done this before, haven't I?" Every word drags like sandpaper through his throat.
Arceus sighs again. It doesn't sound as rude or dismissive as the first time.
"You have, yes; many times."
He doesn't want to get up. Ingo doesn't want to move ever again. He wants to lay here until the world ends.
"Have you reached the same decision this time as well?"
Ingo can only nod. He's a coward. He'll take the emptiness. He'll take anything but this.
Some invisible force wrenches his head up, Ingo blinking spots and stars and dampness out of his eyes to see again. There's a bright spot right in front of him, the Halo of Arceus fanned out around it. It’s aimed like a bullet right between his eyes.
"Very well then. Until next time."
Ingo wakes up in his bed, jolted out of a dead sleep by someone knocking at his door. Gods, his hip is killing him, the hell did he do, sleep on a damn rock? Ingo roots around in his pockets- he must have really worn himself out doing...something, to have fallen asleep in all his clothes- and pulls out some weird blue wooden instrument that he recognizes as Akari's. Ingo is going to start making her check all her pockets before she departs, if she keeps leaving this thing here with him.
Ingo yells to the door that he'll be there in just a moment, and fumbles around until he finds his hat. It's too bright out and he's barely awake, he wants to hide his eyes under the shade of it for a while longer.
Ingo drags himself to the door and opens it, and Irida is on the other side, all but bouncing in place, eyes and smile bright. Ingo is instantly in a better mood and happy for her- whatever just happened must have been really good. He hasn't seen her quite so excited since Palina and Iscan's daughter had been born.
Irida happily tells him that she got his message yesterday- she got here as soon as she could, and she's so happy for him! She wants to hear about everything he remembers! She especially wants to hear about Emmet!!
And Ingo looks at Irida for a long moment. Scrunches his brow. Cocks his head.
"Who is Emmet?"
#blankshipping#submas#pla ingo#pokemon ingo#legends arceus ingo#I love you fruitless endeavors#I love you wasted effort and worthless rewards#I love you bookends#I love you stories that never end but instead just begin over and over and over-#god though I'd been thinking about this ever since Bell posted a video game horror short for submastober#and I thought of the horror video game Amnesia#and I have been Gone ever since#(plus Bell did that EXCELLENT fic with the bookends-#-where Emmet sees visions of Ingo in the subway tunnels but can't do anything about it and HNNNNNNNNGH)#feels nice to finally put it in words#purge it from the system#Ingo has done this before#Ingo will do this again#and so the cycle begins anew#ingo#warden ingo#emmet#akari#irida#arceus#my fics#of a cyclical nature
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Chapter Twenty-Eight - Playing Pretend
Summary: Tomura Shigaraki was her dad’s boss’s son. He was the creep that stole girls’ underwear and tried to grope her in his room. But it’s not like he could get her Dad fired just because she wouldn’t sleep with him, right? …right?
CW: Quirkless!AU, Explicit Smut, Dub-Con, Coercion, Blackmail, Cheating, Sexual Guilt, Humiliation, Unhealthy Relationships, Power Play, Hate to Love, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Slow Burn
A/N: Hnnnnnnnngh, something something, commentary commentary idk. I'm caught up with the manga. Life is meaningless lol. Hopefully this chapter can ease the pain a little (though probably not much since we're hopping right back into angst town lmao, I'm so sorry)
Read Full on AO3
[excerpt]
Luxury. That was the word of the night. Everything about this experience dripped with luxury. Luxury was in the limousine that All for One had been so generous to charter for their pick up. It was in the Don Perignon chilled and waiting for them inside that her parents were kind enough to let her have a glass of. And it was in the Palace Hotel Ballroom that the company had rented out for this party. From every tuxedo-wearing waiter carrying trays of canapes around the room, every member of the string quartet playing Schubert as they entered, even to every Swarovski crystal ornament on the ceiling high Christmas tree in the center of the room. It was all pure, unadulterated luxury.
And it honestly had her wondering for a moment.
“You sure we’re in the right place?” she whispered to her mom, earning a reassuring squeeze.
“No, I’m not,” her mom joked back, just as hushed, “But we’re going to pretend like we are regardless.”
She looked back at her mom curiously. If she was feeling uneasy about the sky high expenditure and decorum of this place, she could only imagine how out of her element her mom was. She herself had spent her entire life ping-ponging between lower and upper middle class. But her mom, even before she’d been in foster care, had only known the heights of a paycheck to paycheck smalltown flower shop. Tie in the not insignificant times she’d spent living exclusively in manga cafes, and she could only imagine what an out of body experience she was having at this moment.
Although, maybe she wasn’t as out of her element as she thought.
If her mom was feeling any nerves or apprehension, it all went away the moment they were approached some of her father’s new, upper echelon bosses and colleagues, beautiful women on their arms (some being the mens’ wives, some being definitely not the mens’ wives), and she was rubbing elbows and talking the talk like the best of them.
“So, was that your first time in a limo?” Yamamoto, one of her dad’s bosses asked the bunch.
“Is it that obvious? ” her mother smiled politely
“Oh on the contrary. I think you all look quite natural at an event like this,” he turned then to her father, “A very handsome family, son. You should be proud.”
Her father smiled, giving her shoulder a little squeeze, “More than you can imagine. My oldest here is a senior at Kamino, and one of the top in her class.”
“Is that so?” Yamamoto said, turning to her, “Entrance exams are just around the corner, aren’t they? You feeling ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she answered, trying not to think about it too long, lest she get nervous.
That was pretty much the course of all her conversations tonight, so far at least. If it wasn’t asking her about her college plans, it was middle-aged VP’s telling her what a looker she was and how she “must have guys lining up for her at school”. Blegh.
All throughout she just smiled and nodded politely while trying not to look around too much for Shigaraki, who surprisingly, for the first quarter of the party, was nowhere to be found. Same for All for One.
Weird, she thought at first, considering that this was their freaking party. Until she overheard one of her dad’s coworkers mention to him, “You know how much that ol’ bastard likes to make an entrance.”
As if on cue, the double doors to the ballroom opened (she hadn’t even realized they’d been shut?!) And in strutted All for One, standing tall and pompous as ever. She had to fight the biggest eye roll of her life as a soft applause filled the room, and he waved them off as if he wouldn’t have been completely pissed had the room been silent.
But just as fast as annoyance crossed her face, she couldn’t fight the skip in her chest when Tomura Shigaraki followed into the ballroom behind him.
He’d cleaned up, and he’d cleaned up freaking good.
His typical ill-fitting sweats and hoodie had been switched out for an impeccably crisp, slim fit suit that did his long legs and defined figure all the favors in the world. His hair was not only brushed, but obviously had some care put into it, fringe still in his face, but strategically so. He kept his eyes, staring forward intensely, intimidatingly, in full view.
And on top of it all, much to her shock and joy, was the red jacket she’d bought for him hanging off his shoulders almost capelike. He’d even kept the fur part on and she’d be remiss to say it didn’t make him look like royalty.
He didn’t just look amazing, he looked like a leader.
Her mom leaned down to her, nudging her not so subtly out of her awe, “Didn’t I see you bring home a jacket like that the other day?”
“No idea what you’re talking about,” she said, swatting away at her, but still unable to take her eyes off Shigaraki through it all.
The two crossed to the center of the room, stopping directly under the giant Christmas tree, where a member of the hotel staff was there to meet All for One with a microphone.
“Thank you all so much for coming tonight…” he started an inevitably long and pompous speech that she was eager to tune out.
And it was easy to do so, the longer she stared at his ward, admiring the way he stood off to the side of All for One, head held high, but still unmistakably himself as he stuffed a hand into his pant pocket.
She smiled at the sight. Seeing him like this, she couldn’t help but be brought back to a few months ago. To that fateful dinner her family had shared with the Shigarakis. The one that Tomura had worn a ratty old hoodie to and had spent the whole night either slouching in his chair, avoiding eye contact, or feeling her up under the table. There was none of that immaturity or recalcitrance here tonight. While he may not have learned the ways of the fake smile and schmoozing that practically permeated the air here, the hard bitterness in his expression was one that could actually be interpreted as polished stoicism. An authority that was hard to impress. And above all, the model heir to his guardian’s company.
Continue on AO3
#TOMURA SHIRAGAKI#TOMURA SHIGARAKI X READER#TOMURA SHIGARAKI X OC#SHIGARAKI#TOMURA SHIGARAKI#BNHA SHIGARAKI#MHA SHIGARKI#SHIGARAKI FANFIC#READER INSERT#LONG FIC#SMUT#SHIGARAKI SMUT#TW DUBCON#QUIRKLESS AU#SPICE WRITES#MHA#BNHA#MHA SMUT#BNHA SMUT#PLAY NICE FIC
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hnnnnnnnngh
#persona 3#persona 3 reload spoilers#ryomina#atlus are you fucking kidding me#giving me no dialogue options after that “love confession” line was base cowardice atlus#atlus i just want to talk
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the “drink your juice” 😩 i love casually dominant bossy steve. i would literally never hesitate to do whatever that man told me to do
no he is always just a bit bossy. he’s so hot.
you’re out to dinner and you reach for your wallet and before you even grab your purse he’s like “i’m paying.” so stern and he puts his card down and smiles at the waitress hnnnnggghh
you’re opening a jar in the kitchen and you just. can’t get it. and he sees you struggling and he just takes it from you and opens it. doesn’t even say a word just opens it and hands it back to you then turns around to get himself a drink hnnnnnnhgggg
when you’re hanging out with the group and his arm’s around you and you’re practically on top of him on the couch and robin goes to hand you some chips and he stops her like “no no, she doesn’t like them” hhhhhnnnnnnhgg
when you’re tipsy after a night out and he’s taking care of you and he gets you some ibuprofen and a glass of water and gives you a stern “take this. you’ll feel better in the morning ok” hnnnnnnnngh
or when you’re walking down the street and he notices your shoe’s untied, and he points to it and stops you with a quick “ah—” and he pulls your foot up onto his knee to tie it himself hhhhhhhhnnggh
or when you’re about to walk into the party and he grabs your elbow with a soft “cmere” and he fixes your necklace for you. and then he gives you a quick kiss on your temple before he knocks on the door hhhnnnnngggggggghh
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Hnnnnnnnngh him 🫠
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"Tell us about your best qualities" hnnnngh
"Make a curriculum vitae" hnnnnnnnngh
"Make a personal statement" hnnnnnnmnnnnngh
"Tell us how great you are to convince us to hire you" HNNNNNNNNNNGHHHGHGHGH
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One thing that fucks me up about life is the amount of bad advice and/or incorrect info you're given that appears to be in good faith because the person providing it meets one or more of the following conditions:
They've got the advice/info from elsewhere and they trust it
and/or
They're missing material info that gives important context about the advice/info
and/or
For whatever reason, whey didn't understand your question
and/or
They don't have enough skin in the game to care about the negative consequences of their bad advice/info.
And in my experience the bad advice/info seems inconsequential at the time because I don't know the full context around it and then I discover that, oh, it wasn't inconsequential at all.
While I tend to tell myself 'trust but verify' ad nauseum, there isn't a way to scrutinize every single bit of info that comes my way, so the best I can do is be skeptical of it if it relates to domains such as money, policy, contracts, the law in general etc. and even that's a headache because there's a lot of stuff out there that's written down in big important documents but no one actually enforces it, and ideally you should always get info form multiple different sources but there are only so many hours in the day and hnnnnnnnngh.
Anyway it all starts when your parents tell you 'just be yourself!' and then it's all bad advice from there.
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shivering borzoi lady hnnnnnnnngh!!
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