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fuckyeahgoodomens · 23 days

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The PledgeManager has launched!

Thank you for bearing with us. We’re happy to say that, as promised, the PledgeManager has officially launched!

In case you missed it, we detailed earlier this week that the publication of the graphic novel has been pushed back from its original July 2024 estimate into Spring 2025 - you can read the full update here. We also want to take a moment to say that we have seen the outpouring of love and support on Kickstarter, and across various platforms, wishing Colleen well in her recovery and the time needed for the graphic novel - a huge thank you from all of the team for your understanding and patience, and for the genuine community and care we’ve seen these past few days. We appreciate you all.

PledgeManager

With this in mind, we think it’s important to underline: though PledgeManager has launched, you do not need to pay for your shipping fees immediately.

The PledgeManager is there for those who missed the campaign to order the graphic novel, and indeed for any backers who would like to upgrade, get some other add-ons, or the new items. You, as a pre-existing backer, should receive an email with information via Kickstarter and/or PledgeManager to inform you that this is now open to you - note, these are sent in waves of smaller batches, so if you don't get yours immediately, don't panic! It will likely take between 12-18 hours to process all the backers.

You are, of course, welcome to pay your shipping right away if you'd like, however we completely understand that you may want to wait until closer to the fulfilment time, or when more solid dates are confirmed, before actioning this.

For this stage, we have compiled a quick FAQ below covering some key questions:

Will the whole project be moving from Kickstarter to PledgeManager? No. This is just for the fulfilment side and logistics - all updates will still remain here.

Do PledgeManager backers get everything that Kickstarter backers do? No. While the remaining tiers will be made available for those who missed it, with certain stretch goals (e.g. additions to the book, loot boxes, etc), Kickstarter backers have a number of exclusives such as the Good Omens HQ discount code for when the store launches, and the backers only events.

My PledgeManager address will be different to what is listed on my Kickstarter. Is that fine? Yes. We are handling all logistics through PledgeManager and, as such, that is the only place where we will need your address. If you move or need to change any details, that will be the place to do so.

Can I change my address? Yes. You can update your address until we are at the shipping stage. We will keep this option open for as long as possible to ensure maximum flexibility around this.

How are shipping fees calculated? It is based on both weight and the country it is being sent to. We have been working over the past months to streamline processes and bring the costs down from their original starting point.

Do I have to pay just now? You do not need to pay immediately, but payment will need to be made prior to your items being shipped. You now have a bigger window during which you can make payment. As above, we will keep updating you on the progression of the publication schedule, should you be waiting for firmer dates before doing so.

What about taxes and import duty? UK: VAT is included in the costs UK backers pay, there should be no extra tax charges. US: We believe (but cannot guarantee) that imports under $800USD in value should not attract import duty, those pledges above may be taxed at import. EU & REST OF THE WORLD: If taxes or duties apply to your pledge, these will need to be paid at time of import into your country. We’ve spent months trying to integrate the costs at this stage, but in having the project open across the globe, it has proven too complex to be able to fully refine and cover all instances and locations, and we’ve been advised that this is the best route forward. We know a lot of international backers, particularly in the EU – for example – will already be used to this process, and we will keep you all updated on any developments on this front. For all of our backers, we are working hard to make labelling and declaring all of the contents of your pledges as transparent as possible, in order to make taxing and importing as easy and affordable as possible.

I want to buy the new items, but am waiting to pay shipping. Are they limited? The pins, mugs, notebooks - all the new items specifically added to the PledgeManager are not limited and will be available regardless of whether you get them now, or months down the road. The only limited items are the remaining tiers that have moved over from the Kickstarter (e.g. the Obsidian Tier) that were limited to begin with, and a very limited run of the Alien Parking ticket. Everything else is fully available, in perpetuity.

Will you be adding extra items to the PledgeManager? No. What is there at launch is all we plan to include at this point - any new items afterwards will instead originate via the Good Omens HQ store.

Will Kickstarter backers get items first? Yes. We will have a staggered approach for fulfilment: Kickstarter backers, then PledgeManager, then everything that is moving to the Good Omens HQ store will subsequently be made available.

You can also view the more general PledgeManager FAQ at terrypratchett.com.

We will keep PledgeManager and logistical notes present in all the monthly updates going forward, but felt this warranted a dedicated one-off.

These are available as part of the PledgeManager. Another beauty from our pin designer, Carl Sutton.

Thanks again for your patience. Back in the April monthly update.

In short: :)

The Good Omens Pledge Manager has launched:

those who missed the Graphic Novel Kickstarter: Now you can order the Graphic novel, not all things that were in the original Kicstarter are available but there is stil a lot of options and fuckton of lovely ineffable add-ons! :)<3

those who participated inthe original GO GN Kickstarter: you should an email (Dunmanifestin needs more information to fulfill your reward) with a link that logs you (if not log manually) into the pledgemanager and lets you edit the order (add new add ons) (yep, my wallet weeps :D<3)

The addons:

I mean... how can one resist for example these I do not know... :D

#good omens graphic novel #good omens #graphic novel #graphic novel kickstarter #merchandise #good omens merchandise #wahoo!

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mochamvgz · 1 month

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made with love.p.jay

; a warm meal with your partner was all you needed after a hectic month

; park jongseong x reader

; genre: fluff, non-idol au

; warnings: talk of exhaustion

; 0.7k words

; tags: @inkelea @sobun1est @kbookshelf

; divider cr: @plutism (i can't believe I forgot to credit them earlier 😭😭 if you're reading this i'm so so sorry)

you entered the passcode to your studio apartment, letting yourself in after being met with an affirmative *beep*

after carelessly tossing your backpack onto the kitchen counter, you miraculously managed to drag yourself to your bed, collapsing on it right away

thank god it's saturday tomorrow

that was the only thought in your mind at present. you'd had a hectic week—no, a hectic fortnight...or was it a month...? your pre-existing headache grew worse as you tried to recall so you gave up eventually

your eyelids grew heavy and just as you were about to board your train to dreamland, star lost by stray kids started playing from the front pocket of your pants. wait, no, that couldn't be right. pockets don't make sounds...oh, it was only your phone ringing

an annoyed grunt escaped your mouth before you checked the caller id. a tired but genuine smile speak across your face when you saw who it was. you accepted the call and put it on speaker

"how's my girl doing?"

you could almost hear the smile in jay's voice, which, in turn, made your own smile widen. "i'm feeling pretty wiped honestly"

jay knew that, he'd noticed the way your smile didn't reach your eyes these days, how your shoulders seemed deflated, the way you looked as if you could pass out at any given moment. of course, he'd be there to catch you if you did

"have you had anything to eat yet?"

"no...sorry"

jay had expected as much

"want me to come over? i can make you something to eat, and then we could cuddle or watch a movie or something"

"yes please, i could really use your cuddles. only if it's not too much of a bother, of course"

"nothing's ever a bother when it comes to you. i'll be there in 10. wait for me, yeah?"

you hummed in response and hung up with an "i love you" which he mirrored back. his soft voice when he spoke to you always warmed your heart. you dozed off thinking about how you truly had the best boyfriend ever

the clatter of pots and pans jolted you awake

you screwed your eyes shut as a groan escaped you, the blaring headache coming back. you heard someone cursing, probably the same person responsible for the racket that disrupted your sleep

sitting up, you began to rub your eyes when you heard a sequence of frantic footsteps, getting progressively closer, and then a pair of arms wrapping around you

you looked up to see jay with an apologetic expression on his face

"i'm soo sorry 'bout that sweetheart, I was trying to be quiet but..."

you mumbled an "it's okay" while hugging him back. after staying in that position for some time, jay broke the silence

"how about you wash up yeah? i'll be in the kitchen"

you noded, shooting him a smile—which he returned—before getting up and making your way to your bathroom

when you came back out, feeling considerably more rested and energized, you found your bed was made, and your previously-cluttered desk was much tidier. a smile made it's way on your face, knowing it could be none other than jay's work

jay noticed you as you approached the kitchen counter, his face lighting up

"you're right on time for dinner!"

"dinner? don't you mean lunch?"

he tilted his head a little to the side in confusion

"it's 7:00 p.m. sweetie"

"already??? have i been out for that long? why didn't you wake me up??"

jay chuckled, "you looked so cute sleeping, i didn't wanna wake you. plus, you seemed like you needed it"

"fair enough"

by then jay announced dinner was ready so you helped him set the table and sat down for dinner. the noodles he'd made were simply delectable. it reminded you of the way you used to make them with your sister. you mentioned it to him among other compliments

"well, where do you think I got the recipe?" he winked. your mouth fell open. no way.

"i literally love you so much"

"love you too" he replied with his adorable smile

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magnetothemagnificent · 8 months

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I hate the social taboo that exists for people who don't fast. Yes, according to Jewish law you cannot fast if you physically cannot, but that doesn't mean there still isn't the social stigma and lack of education.

I had a guy ask me last night during Kol Nidrei if he's allowed to drink water. He has pancreatitis. It should have been made obvious to him immediately that of course he doesn't have to fast. He shouldn't have had to nervously search for someone who could answer his question after the fast had already started. When hosting the pre-fast meal, the Rabbi should have included in his announcements that if you have a medical condition that makes fasting dangerous, you should not fast.

It should be made clear before any fast starts that you shouldn't fast if you can't. But instead, in many communities, people with medical conditions feel ashamed for not fasting and sometimes even force themselves to fast when they shouldn't. It shouldn't be assumed that everyone in the congregation is fasting, yes, even if almost everyone in the congregation is below the age of 40 (this is another compounding issue- people thinking young people can't have certain medical conditions). And this stigma is dangerous.

[goyim this post is not for you]

#jumblr #if jew know jew know #intracommunity issues #goyim don't touch #yom kippur #fasting #judaism

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the-fiction-witch · 6 months

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Secret

Media The Artful Dodger (Pre Show Release)

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Sweet + Cute

Warnings - Sexual Trauma / Rape/ 1800's Abortion

I was beyond fearful.

A thousand thoughts flew through my mind.

I worried about what my fate would be.

What would happen to me?

What little I could even do?

All with the knowledge, that this was a ticking time bomb. And the longer I lingered, the less time I would have.

This secret would not stay a secret forever, and every moment I waited jeopardised the potential of my secret being revealed. And if it were, there would be problems, to say the least.

So I had no alternative, I had to do something about it.

I dressed for the day in my boots, hosiery, bloomers, petticoats, frock, jacket, hat and parasol and headed down the stairwell to the front door.

"Where do you think you're off to?" My father spoke up as he arrived from his study, a glass of whiskey in hand.

His brother, my uncle beside him with his own and a cigar between his lips.

"Just off to the market," I lied as I tried to stare at the door and not glimpse at them both.

"I'll Accompany you," My uncle proposed with a smirk.

"No." I snapped, "No thank you, I think I would like the walk alone,"

"Alright, Be back before dark." My father demanded before he headed back to his study, I grabbed my gloves from beside the door and slipped them on in a rush to get out when my uncle came close, he rested his brown oxford shoe between my legs, pressed himself tightly to my body and came so close I could smell his whiskey, his cigar and the horrid scent of sour apples.

"Don't be late darling," He whispered in my ear

I didn't answer him so he just skulked off back to the study with my father, I squandered no time and scurried from the house I made sure to be seen at the market but I didn't make a single purchase I just wilted around and spoke to a few to make sure I would have been seen if anyone asked about me.

Once that was done, I made my way to the familiar house often frequented by those like me in circumstances with little hope, often as a last resort. The house was stunning; it couldn't be disavowed, the house itself was small, only really existing on the upper floors, with the bottom the office, storerooms, prep spaces and all other things required for the profession of he who lived in the house.

I made sure to journey there discreetly not wanting my presence to be witnessed as I rang the bell and lingered, each second felt like hours until ultimately the door was yanked open.

There he stood in black shoes sludgy from their wear, a pair of black trousers well pressed and fitted to his thin body, a faint thin white shirt with his sleeves wadded up to his elbows, a green fabric tie loosely knotted around his neck, a pair of cream and black suspenders over his shoulders, a blue well-worn waistcoat, his hair in its typical fluffy way mostly thrown to one side, His brown eyes looked wide as he opened the door unsure who to be expecting behind it but his lip upturned into a small smile.

"Ohh, Hello Miss Y/l/n this is a nice surprise," He smiled.

"Hello Doctor, Could I come in?"

"Yes of course" he smiled happily let me in and closed the door behind me "To what do I owe the pleasure then?" he asked.

"May we speak... privately?"

"Ohh course, come into the office nice and private in there," he ushered me through to his small office just off the operating room and down from a small store room. He got a cushy chair for me and moved it by the fire with another "There we are, Would you like a cup of tea?"

"No thank you, Doctor," I answered as I took a seat nervously and uncontrollably picked at my nail beds,

"Just Jack you've known me long enough," he chuckled, as he took his chair across from me "Are you alright?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, you're picking at your cuticles, you haven't made eye contact with me since I opened the door and you look... like you're about to either smack me or start crying." He said, "So? What's going on?"

"Well" I began, as I battled back my tears. "I'm sorry this isn't easy..."

"What's wrong y/n?" He asked, as he tilted forward to gently take my hand in his own.

"I had to come to visit you today, I wish it was under more pleasing circumstances," I explained, tears uncontrollably flooding down my face. "I'm so sorry Jack but I must ask you to keep a secret,"

"Of course,"

"No, I mean it. I'm serious. This must be a secret," I explained.

"Y/n, I promise no matter what you tell me it's a secret, just between us," he said, as he lifted from his chair and fetched me some tissues from his desk before he returned to his seat.

"You promise?"

"I promise. Not a Word of it will pass my lips, not a sound of it will leave this room, I swear I won't tell a soul,"

"I need your help, Jack."

"With what?"

"... I know you, haven't always walked on the Side of lawfulness,"

"hey!" He pouted "My thievery has been very occasional," he corrects playfully.

"I hate to ask, I know it would be a risk for you to do such a thing for me,"

"Well... what is it?"

"I- I'm sorry." I began as I choked up with tears again.

"It's alright, whatever assistance you need I'll be here for you. you just have to tell me what it is,"

My blood ran cold, my words stunted but I knew the time was ticking and I couldn't let these words linger behind my teeth.

"Jack, I'm pregnant."

He froze up, his hand on mine went clammy, and the colour drained from his face for a moment. He moved back to press himself into his chair, he ran a hand through his hair and down his face rubbing on his jaw before he spoke.

"...Okay." He nodded, as he brought his hands together and broke the silence that lingered between us and the fire. "Why would you need my help if you're pregnant?" He asked.

"Why else?" I told him.

"It's not my area of expertise. You should see the midwife-",

"No!" I snapped, "She's a chatterbox you know that. That girl couldn't keep a secret If I stitched her mouth shut,"

"Good point," he chuckled.

"Even so, she wouldn't endorse what I'm doing,"

"Understandable,"

"I don't trust anyone sufficiently with this. Anyone but you Jack,"

"Thanks, I guess," He smiled, "What do you intend to do?"

"I don't have a choice. no one can know, my father will find out and he'll send me away, if not worse. He'll call me a whore and ship me off or worse," I explained, "If anyone in town found out they'd lock me away," I explained "Jack... I can't be pregnant. I need to not be pregnant."

"Okay," he nodded, "This is illegal you know that right?"

"I do. But I don't have a choice."

"if anyone ever found out, we'd both be in a lot of trouble."

"I know," I nodded. "I understand if you can't Jack. I understand if you can't stake your-",

"I'll do it."

"You will?"

"If it's what you want." He nods.

"You don't have to do this for me."

"I want to." he reassured, "I can't endure to see you like this, Can I ask something?"

"Alright,"

"Who's the father?"

That question froze me to my core. "Why do you ask?"

"Don't you think you should tell him?"

"No. No, I can't."

"Does he know you're pregnant?"

"No."

"Do you think it's possible... Just hear me out! maybe if you told him? you think he'd marry you?"

"He might. but I don't want that."

"Why not? you liked him enough to let him-" He began, but all I could do was look at him. "You did let him, didn't you?" he asked and I shook my head as I fought back my tears, he ran his hand over his face "I'm sorry I shouldn't-",

"It's okay," I nodded.

"Come here y/n," He offered.

I got up from the chair and stepped over to his own, he happily took my hand removed my gloves gave my skin a soft kiss and tugged me gently into his lap so I could sit over him my head against his chest as he ran his fingers gently across my frock, his other hand ran his fingers over me removed my hat and gently ran through my hair, every so often he kissed the top of my head.

"I'm so sorry y/n." He whispered, "You don't need to worry, I promise not a soul will know, we'll sort this out as soon as possible," he explained.

"Thank you, Jack."

"It's okay" he cooed, "How long has this been happening?"

"A while now,"

"Okay," he nodded. "Before you go through with this, will you listen to what I have to say?"

"Of course Jack,"

"I know it must all seem frightening now, and like you need to hurry knowing every day this is developing inside you, and I'm sure it must hurt you to even think about this child given its conception and the peril it now poses to you," he explained, "But... we would have to keep this secret until the end of our days, not a soul could ever know if anyone did find out we'd be fortunate to be locked up. Even so, this... procedure isn't straightforward, it carries a grave risk not only of failure, of pain, but of threat to you. If something goes awry, it could kill you," he explained.

"I know that."

"You can't expect me to be alright with conceivably killing you,"

"Isn't that the risk every one of your patients accepts when they decide to lay on the operating table?"

"Well yes but-",

"But what Jack?"

"But... that's not a fate I want for you." he said, "Is there... anyway I can talk you out of this?"

"No,"

"There's no way that deep down he might be an agreeable gentleman?"

"Unquestionably not,"

"Okay, is there any way you could go someplace?"

"I can't,"

"Any suitor boys you could sharply marry before you show?"

"None to mention no,"

"Is there any chance you're going to regret this? And want to keep your baby? Because once I do this that's it. Babies gone forever."

"I'm certain Jack."

"What if..." he began "I married you?"

My heart stopped beating a moment as a panic rushed over me unsure I heard him correctly.

"If you what?"

"What if, I married you?" He asked, "I'm a surgeon so your father would be happy to wed me his daughter, I have a house with plenty of space and not a soul to share it with, I have a decent income so you'd only need to be a housewife, you wouldn't even have to clean the theatre if you didn't want to." He explained, "I feel you and I get along better than I do with most other ladies, in fact, I feel I get along best with you above everyone else in the world. I am happy to keep your secret, you and I can go to your father in a few days. I can ask for your hand and by the end of the month we can be married. Long before you start to show, you can grow the baby to term and I'll be there to hold your hand when the baby comes, and I'll welcome our little one as if they were my own. The world outside these walls and the baby needs never to know any different."

"Jack, you'd truly do that for me?'

"Of course I would,"

"You don't have to do that,"

"I know. I want to" he smiled, kissing my head. "I'd adore to have you as my wife,"

"That's so lovely Jack," I smiled, sitting up a little. "But I can't."

"Why not?"

"It's not fair for you to squander your life marrying me just because of this,"

"Y/n, I wouldn't ask if it was just because of this. Honestly... I've been considering it for some time now just never really got the opportunity to ask you."

"You mean it?"

"I do,"

"I... I can't - I'm sorry Jack." I said, "I'd love to marry you, I really would but I want this procedure, it has to be done,"

"Okay," he nodded "If that's what you want," he said, "After the procedure would you still want to marry me?"

"I would," I blushed "If that is you'd be happy to marry a-"

"Don't you even say that," he warns, "Don't you dare. You're not broken. You're not damaged. You're not some glass bottle y/n you're a woman. I don't care what's happened to you. If you're happy to marry me then I'd be happy to marry you too."

"Really?"

"Really." He nods, "So how about tomorrow morning I come over and speak to your father, ask him for your hand, we can be married by the end of the week and we can go through the procedure then, and I'll take my new wife up to bed once it's over and take care of you until your all better."

"That sounds perfect,"

"And maybe once you're all better we could... start on a little one of our own? Once you're comfortable of course,"

"I'd like that very much, Jack." I smiled and I nuzzled into his chest.

"Perfect. Then it's decided." he smiled and wrapped his arms around me tightly to pull me close into a cuddle "I'll see him first thing tomorrow morning, and as soon as he'll let me I'll make you Mrs y/n Dawkins,"

"Sounds pretty,"

"It suits you" he cooed, kissing my forehead. "So? Will you marry me, sweetheart?"

"I will Jack," I blushed.

"May I kiss my bride-to-be?" he whispered against my hair intertwining his fingers with my own.

"You normally have to wait for the wedding day for that,"

"I'm impatient," he shrugs playfully.

"Well... I suppose," I smiled, sitting up a little and resting my chin on his shirt.

He smiled squeezing my hand so I squeezed back his other hand came and stroked the back of the knuckle of his index finger across the length of my cheekbone ending with a playful bop on my nose before he smiled and leant in capturing my lips in a gentle kiss, he smelt like oak wood, old iron and petrichor, I could taste his earlier tea still lingering in his lips, his skin soft but his lips scarcely cracked from the heat and the sun, I enjoyed our kisses as I'd never enjoyed anything before, his kisses reminded me of sweet summer toffees, of birds cooing in the morning sun, of the sweet embrace of a warm soft bed. I felt comforted, sweetened and protected in a way I haven't felt since I was small.

When we pulled away I couldn't stop my smile as I snuggled back into his chest.

"humm now I have to marry you," he cooed.

"Do you?"

"I think if just a little kiss makes me feel like this, then I must be kissing the girl I should marry," he cooed.

We lay snuggly for a good while until finally, he broke the silence between us.

"Will you tell me? Why do you want to get rid of it so badly?"

"Because of its conception,"

"Understandable. Who's the father?"

"Jack-",

"Please, I promise I won't tell anyone and I'll all be over soon anyway. I just want to know,"

"My Uncle Warren," I answered, nuzzling as deep into his waistcoat as I could.

I felt his skin go cold, his heart slow, and his hands freeze up.

"Warren?" He asked and I nodded, "Your UNCLE!" he yelled and I nodded.

"Please don't be angry with me Jack," I whispered.

"No no no! Y/n sweetheart no I'm not angry at you I promise," he reassured, "I'm sorry but I have to make sure I heard you right," he said picking my face up in his hands and holding us so my nose was against his "Your uncle, Did this to you? Your father's brother, who lives with you, who has lived with you since you were six, did this to you?"

"Yes Jack," I nodded.

"How often does he do this to you?"

"At least twice a week. He'll come up to my room after dark and-" I began to cry.

"sh sh sh it's okay." He reassured, "You know what. I changed my mind. Let's go see your father now," he said as he got up.

"Are you sure Jack?"

"Ohh I'm positive sweetheart," he said as we gathered our things and headed to the door "ohh before I forget," he said as he rushed to the prep room a moment, "Perfect, that'll do," he smirked, as he returned with an impressive knife often used in his surgeries to cut through skin and muscle tissue.

"Jack?" I asked curiously.

"Come on then," he smiled, as he put the knife in his jacket and came to the door.

"Jack, what are you doing?"

"Going to talk to your father, come on," he smiled, as he took my hand as we headed out into the sunset of the evening.

"Jack why are you taking the -"

"We're just going to have a nice little chat." He said, "A nice little chat."

"You're not going to -"

"I just wanna talk to him,"

Finally, we arrived at my door and he knocked and held me close even if I was beyond frightened.

The door opened to my father who instantly saw me.

"There you are, girl! we've been worried sick about you -" he began, "ohh Dr Dawkins? This is a surprise what are you doing here?" he asked as he saw Jack with me perplexed as to why the two of us were together.

"Just popping by, may I come in?" Jack smiled,

"Of course come in, we're in the study," he said, as he ushered us both inside and into the study. I quickly sat on the short sofa by the fire and picked up my embroidery to try and preoccupy myself and keep myself silent as they often requested.

My father went to his small bar tray fixing himself a drink and one for Jack, both of which he set on the table between us all, before he sat on the sofa beside Warren. Jack found his seat on the chair in the centre, he gave me a small smile even if his eyes lingered on my uncle.

"What do we owe the pleasure doctor?" My uncle asked, but he looked at me as he asked,

"Well, I won't bother with pleasantries. Y/n. I want to marry her,"

My uncle spat his drink.

"You what?!" my father asked in shock.

"I wish to marry y/n,"

"Uhh, right? Are you sure?" My father asked, "A handsome, trained, gentleman such as yourself surely you'd be more interested elsewhere?"

"I am interested in her,"

"Well, the surgeon is certainly better than I'd thought she'd do. I was assuming she'd be a spinster or sell her off to the milk boy's son" He explained, "Well you'll be living in your house I presume?"

"Of course,"

"You'll take care of her? Treat her well?"

"Undoubtedly."

"Well, Alright." he shrugged, "So long as you're sure? That's my only rule you can't bring her back," He joked.

"That will not be a concern, sir."

"Alright, well I am pleased to allow this engagement," He smiled, "Congratulations you two,"

"You're alright with the wedding being soon? We don't really want to wait."

"The sooner the better!" My father smiled, "We must celebrate, I'll fetch us some champagne," He smiled and got up from his seat and gave my head a little kiss as he passed and headed out of the study.

"This is good news indeed," My uncle smirked. "Very sudden," he smirked, as he got up and came to loom over me "You really believe you're going to get away from me that easily?"

"I'd step back if I were you," Jack warned him and pressed his knife against Warren's chest and he forced him to move back,

"Why should I? She's my niece,"

"Yeah, and I know what you've been doing to her."

Immediately he looked furious "Whatever she told you, It's a lie."

"Forgive me if I make my own assumptions."

"Fine, I'll back up," he said, as he moved back a little.

"Good. Now I hear that you're anywhere near my fiancé, or that you've done anything to her I'll cut your cock off,"

"You wouldn't dare!"

"I would." he warned, "And I'm a surgeon. I know how to do it and make sure you survive to suffer,"

"Fine," He said as he returned to his sofa.

Jack smiled and sat beside me as he hid his knife away and gave my cheek a little kiss as my father returned with some champagne.

I was skittish but I knew this had to happen. The last few days have been so busy. Our wedding was so precious even if it was small and brief, I had moved into the house and it very quickly felt like home, Jack had made sure of that. He had made the place cosy for me, often checking in on me to see if I was alright and so far he had been the best husband I could have ever wished for. I strolled through the locked-up house by the glow of my candle, only my cotton nightgown against my skin I had accepted this would be the last time I would likely wear it. I reached the theatre, the stalls were dark and empty, the windows blacked out, and even the door to the prep room bolted and curtained with only the door I walked through left open for me. The chandelier hung above the bed lighting this room enough to see, the table prepared freshly cleaned with a cover over it, and sawdust under the table to aid in cleaning.

The room was utterly silent.

Jack stood in front of his small table, lining items across the table from a Water Basin. The tools all lingered there in the boiling water already freshly cleaned, he took them from the water and dried them with a new cloth before setting them in their place on a covered table. All this was far more covered and more cleanliness than was typical of Jack and his work but I suppose in his mind, It's not every day he operates on his own wife. I stepped In and closed the door behind me, I bolted the lock and turned to give him a grim smile. He smiled back a little more optimistic than my own smile silence still between us in the hope that everything we were to do tonight would be a secret between only us and the ghosts.

He offered his hand so I set my candle down and went over, I took his hand and he softly pressed a kiss there, he stroked my cheekbone and playfully smiled as he gave my nose a little bop and then a kiss before he helped me up onto the table.

"Just relax sweetheart," he reassured, as he adjusted me slightly, "Any discomfort?" he asked,

"I'm very hungry and thirsty," I admit,

"I know sweetheart," he smiled and kissed my forehead, "I'll make you some soup and a nice big glass of juice as soon as we're done I promise," he said as he used the buckle belts on the table to restain my legs and arms even my stomach and for a moment I giggled.

"Ohh Jack, if you were into that sort of thing you should really have told me before we got married,"

"Don't be cheeky Mrs Dawkins Or I'll give you such a spanking," He warned

"You'll be gentle? Won't you?"

"Of course I will," he reassured, "As gentle as I can be." He smiled, "I mean it's in my best interest too, you're my wife."

"I suppose you would be very interested in maintaining that part of me," I blushed.

"Well yes. But I was more thinking, you're my wife. I'm the one that's going to have to deal with you. I cause you too much pain I'll never hear the end of it,"

"No, you won't," I told him.

"Okay, you ready?" he asked.

"I'm ready," I nodded.

"I'll take care of you, I promise," He reassured me as he offered me the little cup that contained the anaesthesia. I happily swallowed it even if it tasted terrible, "There we go, you get some rest sweetheart, I'll take care of you,"

"Thank you, Jack," I smiled. We shared a sweet kiss before I began to drift away falling into a deep sleep.

I woke up and I felt sore, my whole body ached, my body lay in my bed with blankets and pillows, and everything hurt but it was a pain I knew well as it reminded me so much of my monthly pains.

"Sweetheart, Hey? Are you feeling okay?" Jack asked as he came through into the bedroom with some soup and juice that he sat by the table

"Everything hurts," I answered.

"It will do," He smiled, sitting beside me and giving my forehead a little kiss, "but it's all done. Nothing to worry about any more,"

"It's gone?"

"Gone. Now I'm going to be taking care of you until you're all better," he smiled, "You need to rest, take it easy, be gentle with yourself, No baths you're going to have to shower I'm more than happy to help with that," he winked, "And two, maybe three weeks you'll be good as new,"

"thank you, Jack,"

"You're welcome, Go on have your soup you need anything at all just call alright I'll be in the office" He explained, he gave me a sweet kiss before he went to head out of the bedroom.

"Jack?"

"Yeah y/n?"

"I love you," I giggled.

"Love you too sweetheart" He cooed as he blew me a kiss and headed down to his office.

#tbs #thomas brodie sangster #thomas sangster #tbs smut #thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagines #tbs imagine #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster smut #the artful dodger #thearttfuldodger #artfuldodger #jack #jack dawkins #jackdawkins

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moumouton4 · 8 months

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Let Me Taste You || Itachi Uchiha x fem!reader

A/n : Prompt 3 of the Smutember 2023

The list of promps is HERE

Smutember 2023 Masterlist ⚜

Warnings : oral male!receiver, mention of porn and masturbation, this one is pretty graphic, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 1004

It’s been a while that you’ve been thinking about it. Maybe 3 weeks or a month, that each time you’re intimate you wonder how it would be, how his cock would taste in your mouth. Because yes, despite your years of being together you’ve never been able to have it down your throat. Itachi was certainly a gentleman, he had always put your pleasure and needs above his. And while most of other couples start their sexual lives with foreplays, Itachi always made sure to pleasure you while preparing you and then directly make love, letting you no second for the pleasure to stop building.

Of course, he knew that it was a thing. He is a big boy, he watched porn more than once when you were away on missions. It’s one of his dirty little secrets. The other behind him that once dipped his finger in his cum just to you know… not get to bed ignorant.

Anyways, even if he knew it existed he never thought about you doing that to him. The idea crossed his mind one day as he was stroking his length alone in the quietness that offered the night. He wondered how it would feel but he never ever told himself that he was going to ask you to do it. But thanks to you all your questions would be answered.

Today, like any other time you are about to make, Itachi takes the lead. In those gentle manners of his he pushes you down to the bed as he settles himself between your legs, eager to dive into your awaiting cunt. Yet today you prevent him from doing so by slowly getting back up. He doesn’t really understand what is happening. For a second he got scared that he overstepped your boundaries. Little does he know you were the one about to push the ones of your love making.

“What are you doing Y/n ? I was about to… uh you know” he said sheepishly, not daring to say the words.

“Shhh easy my Love. I wanna try something. Do you trust me ?” you asked gently, patting the bulge over his pants, making his breath hitch in his throat.

“Yes but- mpfff... what are you doing ?” he whispered as he saw you getting on your knees before him. That way you looked so small and he really started to get needy.

“Let me taste you Itachi please. Just this once. And if you like it, every others” your eyes almost started to glow as you started opening the button of his trousers.

He found himself at a loss of words. The situation was just so arousing, he could feel his member throbbing in his boxer. So he nodded, his eyes now focused on your every move. You looked hungrily at him as you finally managed to free his length from the confines of his clothes. The rosy tip looked so majestic officiating at the top of his perfect shaft. Above everything, the pre cum that glistened at the top made you lose your shits and slowly you got closer.

He shivered as your breath fanned over his sensitive skin. And then as if in a dream, he felt your hand grip him at the base while your tongue tasted his essence. “Mmmh” you hummed “It’s a complex taste, salty but also sweet. Did you eat some peanuts ?” you chuckled. But before he even had time to answer your mouth made contact with him again, but this time you took him in. You suckled gently on his tip to test the waters and see if he liked it. But seriously you knew he did. Bro became a whimper mess in no time. And to think you stressed so much about this, thinking he wasn't going to like it. You even thought about jerking him or fondling his balls but in a few seconds you had him wrapped around your fingers - well more tongue and lips.

As he neared his climax his hands flew tentatively to your hair as his hips started to sway against your mouth, making you take him in deeper each time. He knew he was about to come in any minute “Ugh Y-Y/n I’m going t-to…” but you interrupted him by gently tapping against his thigh. He looked down at you and he saw in your eyes that you wanted it all. That you wanted to experience even this part of your intimacy. So he nodded shyly, and as if on cue he moaned as his balls tightened, while his Sharingan flickered in his eyes. You felt your mouth get filled with a new taste as his length pumped his essence. Each spurt of cum bringing a more pronounced salty taste that wasn't there in the beginning.

You didn’t stop. Not yet. You wanted to be sure he gave you everything he got. Itachi was about to pass out, well that’s what he thought because of how high this orgasm brought him. His other hand came to join the other, fingers intangling in your hair as if it was the only thing reminding him he was still on Earth. When you finished, you took him one last time deep to be sure he was all clean before releasing his tip with a loud and exaggerated pop, flustering him even more. He instantly sat on the bed, his chest heaving as he slowly got down from his climax. Then he took your hands with so much care before he pulled you up and kissed you deeply - yes just after you swallowed - “T-thank you. I never thought I’d ever experience… I m-mean… that was intense” he said between breaths, his thumb whipped a bot of saliva mixed with his essence you had on the corner of your mouth.

Meanwhile you only smiled at him “Any time you want. I liked it as well” It seemed that the pleasure coming with his new experience was shared between the both of you.

#naruto #naruto imagine #naruto smut #naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden imagine #naruto shippuden smut #itachi uchiha #itachi uchiha imagine #itachi uchiha x reader #itachi uchiha x reader smut #itachi uchiha smut #itachi x reader #itachi smut #smutember #smut #miri-writes

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myosotisa · 11 months

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Steve Harrington reacting to an unconventional introduction to your shy cat 😺

‖ pre-face: you have been dating for a couple of weeks and he has yet to meet your cat. he knows you have one but has accepted that they will hide whenever he comes over, and doesn't want to push it and force them out of hiding. tonight is the first time he is sleeping over at your place.

‖ Eddie's Version

Whatever higher being that chose to sculpt Steve Harrington out of the finest marble into the shape of a Roman God with constellations of moles and freckles painted across his skin should really be providing you financial compensation for the hazard it poses to your health.

Part of you is convinced you've already slipped off into a dream when he dips back into your bedroom with two glasses of water in hand. He's shirtless, because of course he is, and you shamelessly allow your eyes to trail from the tuff of curly hair on his chest and down to where a similarly shaded happy trail dips into the waistband of his low-hung sweatpants.

"Hand delivery of a nice, cold glass of water to the prettiest girl I've ever seen," he holds one of the glasses toward you, the other lifting to his lips as you take it. You are once again distracted by the strong muscle of his bicep as it curls the glass toward his mouth, the rhythmic rise and fall of his Adams apple while he drinks, and the sheen of moisture on his pink lips as he lowers the glass with an overdone sigh of contentment.

You are absolutely floored with the desire to eat him alive.

But truly, someone should make him pay for the crimes against humanity that is his existence when he looks this fucking good. And you have just the thing in mind.

"Hey baby?" You call sweetly, putting a soft whine on the edge of the 'y' just to make his ears turn pink when he looks down at you tucked under the blankets on your bed.

"Yes honey?" He answers just as sweetly despite the way the blush travels from his ears and across his strong cheekbones, how weak he is for you evident in his dopey smile.

"I think I heard something under the bed," you tell him with an exaggerated pout, bringing your blankets up to your chin just to ratchet up the pathetic effect. "Could you check it for me, please?"

His head tilts with a playful smile, looking entirely too amused at your request. "Of course I can. What good is a big, strong boyfriend if you can't ask him to check for monsters under your bed?"

And you don't miss the way he flexes his arms when he says that he's big and strong, eyebrows wiggling at you in a tease. You press the back of your hand to your forehead, dipping back to lean against your headboard as you sigh, "I'm already swooning. You're so brave."

"Anything for my girl," he replies with a wink, hiking up the legs of his sweatpants as he drops into a kneel, and half of you is concerned the stitches will snap from how it stretches around the firmness of his thigh.

Bastard.

"Let's see here..." He ducks his head to look underneath the bedframe, a smile still in place as he anticipates finding nothing there. Your anticipation is much greater as you await the inevitable discover of what waits beneath.

He inhales in what looks to be a preparation to speak when it cuts off with a surprised yelp, falling backwards onto his ass as his wide eyes stare at the shadows beneath your bed. Your giggles are instantaneous, watching in absolute joy as he turns bright red from chest to scalp at the same time your cat goes scurrying out the door.

"Baby!" He admonishes in a whine, lips drooping in a frown. "You made me scare them!"

You crawl over to the edge of the bed closest to where he is still leaning on his hands on the floor, knees bent haphazardly. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't resist the opportunity."

And while there is a certain gleam to his eye that lets you know he's not actually mad, his pout remains as he turns over onto his hands and knees to look back under the bed for them.

"They already ran away, Steve," you inform him with a pitying smile, "off into the great wide apartment." He's back on his feet and out the door again before you can say another word. "Steve? Baby? Where are you going?"

"I have to find them so I can apologize," he calls back to you, flicking on lights as he goes through the apartment. "I don't want them to be even more scared of me than they already are."

Your heart burns with warmth at the intention, your boyfriend's bleeding heart striking you like a cupid's arrow through the chest. You hop off the bed and trail after him, peeking around the corner to see him flat on the ground of your living room to look beneath the couch.

"I don't think you're going to find them," you warn with nothing but adoration as you approach him.

"I will look all night if I have to."

And so you spend the better part of an hour trailing your handsome boyfriend around your apartment as he searches every nook and cranny for the scared feline, getting more and more upset as the time ticks on.

When he finally discovers them, tucked behind the washing machine, he keeps a safe distance as he coos and murmurs apologies to the creature in the shadows.

"Your mom is so mean to us, isn't she buddy? So cruel to play a joke like that on us. It's a good thing she's so pretty and funny and kind or else I would whisk you away to my place where you could hide and rest to your hearts content and never be disturbed."

And while your shy cat shows little to no reaction to his reassurances, you basically melt into a puddle and seep into the cracks of the floorboards as he talks sweetly and respectfully to your faithful and skittish pet.

#steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington blurbs #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #myos ideas #myo4harrington

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angsthology · 4 months

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Pay Attention to Things That Most People Ignore ☆ LS2

logan sargeant is most definitely not most people. it was time he started learning how

characters/pairings; daughter of poseidon!reader, chiron, mr. d, son of apollo!logan, theo (oc), son of athena!oscar.

warnings; monsters, typical pjo-type violence, logan is hopeless but that’s okay! some chb innacurracy sorry i havent read the books in a while, err very rushed writing im sorry, LAWD this is a mess i tell u 😭 perhaps i hate it — 3k words.

a/n; is the title... an all-american bitch lyric? yes. why? im not good and titles and i went to that song in instinct... for no reason. also this was based on a request — though i do admit its a little bit different as i would (hopefully) be making a part 2 hehe. by now im realizing how this title prob has nothin to do with the story

Over the years, she’s come to accept her life. Did it hurt when it felt like her entire life ended? Of course. Does it still hurt when she turns on the television to see them basically rubbing it on her face? —Whatever.

In theory, she probably could’ve gotten away with it had she not been a daughter of one of the big three—thanks a lot, dad. —but it was proven one too many times that it was not safe for her or any of the other kids. If it didn’t put anyone else’s life at risk, she would’ve disobeyed her mother, she really would (she was a child, she really hasn’t grasped the full concept of what other people would feel).

But, you know, oh well.

It’s sixteen years later and she still has that lingering grudge in the back of her head as the screen plays another Grand Prix — another Grand Prix she could’ve probably been a part of.

She tried, she really tried so hard to forget about it, to let go of it, but again, it was proven to be way too hard to let go of something she had an actual chance of, an actual good chance.

Though it might be hard to let go, she couldn’t really complain much about the life she actually had now.

Sure, it gets pretty lonely sometimes being a forbidden child, there weren’t exactly much of them (that are known and living at camp). But she had everyone else, despite practically being an only child at camp, to her everyone else there were her little siblings—of course, that probably has something to do with the fact that she was the oldest camper and the one who has been there longest.

When she heard a set of the all-too-familiar clops her heart dropped from its current fast-paced beating.

She quickly closed your laptop shut, cringing when you heard how loud of a sound it had made. That was it. She didn’t even try hiding her disappointment in herself. She slowly emerged from under the blanket with her lips tightly-wound shut, bracing herself with whatever the Centaur will have to say, her mind playing a quick telepathic farewell to her laptop.

“Hello, Y/N.”

She sighed, “Chiron.”

“Where and how?”

She swallowed the pre-existing nerves in her throat, “Mr. D.”

He hummed in response, so she continued.

“A pack of Heineken and two bottles of Jack Daniels.”

“Hm, good picks.” She responded lowly under her breath with a small ‘yeah’ as Chiron walked closer to the head of her bed near the bed-side table—his hooves making clopping noises each step.

The silence was taking too long to her liking so she just went to get it over with, “So, you’re gonna take it away from me?” she paused, then mumbling under her breath for herself, “—it’s probably another Red Bull win, anyway.”

Apparently, it was loud enough for the Centaur to hear, making him chuckle.

Surprisingly, he didn’t mention anything else about the laptop, “Who do you support?”

Hearing the question quickly made her look up from her fidgeting hands to see the smile on his face, she screwed her brows in confusion as she continues to look at Chiron for—something. Then, realizing that he was still waiting for an answer, she shook her head.

“Uhm—well, uh—”

“You think that Lando will ever get a win?”

That seemed to loosen her up, “Ugh, Gods, I hope. I’m getting exhausted over here—you know, sometimes I really wish I could ask the Oracle about it.”

He chuckled then which made her crack a smile.

When it died down, Chiron looked at her smiling face. He couldn’t help but frown a little, he knew how she felt about racing, he knew how she still feels about it.

“Y/N.”

She looks up at him, “Yeah?”

“So, I am aware that your birthday is nearing…”

“I mean… why wouldn’t you be? I’m here all-year-round.”

Chiron cleared his throat at her interruption, giving her a look.

“Sorry.”

He acknowledged and continued, “I am also aware that it lines up with a certain event…”

She raised an eyebrow it that, almost guessing what that said ‘event’ was.

“So,” he stopped, initially had her thinking he was just pausing but when he left out the door of her cabin she raised her hands as if saying ‘what gives?’

Seconds passed and it seemed like Chiron wasn’t going to come back any time soon so instead she stumbled off of her bed to quickly catch up to the Centaur that was headed to a building—the girl almost caught up to him, almost following him into the building but he was already back out in a good few seconds, stopping her right in front of the set of stairs, raising both her hands in question once more, “You just left. ‘So’, what?”

“I have it arranged that you will be attending the Miami Grand Prix.” He smiled as he handed her a lanyard.

She swore her eyes looked like it could’ve popped out of their sockets in a matter of seconds. She couldn’t believe what she was holding; a paddock pass. She couldn’t believe Chiron had done this for her considering how careful of a man (well, half-man) he is especially with her being a forbidden child. This was about to turn into the best birthday yet.

When she looked up to the smiling Chiron, her mouth still hung open in shock but her arms immediately wrapped around the man’s body in a bone-crushing hug.

She didn’t know how many ‘thank you’s that spilled out of her mouth but next thing she knew he was hugging her back with a chuckle escaping his lips.

After a few more ‘thank you’s from her, she pulled away smiling at him, “I thought you’d rather keep me here forever, why now?”

He cleared his throat, “Well, you are turning twenty-one, not many of you reach that kind of age—don’t tell them I said that—so I’d like to make it a bit more special.”

Still smiling, she looked at the paddock pass in her hand again, “You don’t know how much I appreciate this, Chi. Thank you, again.”

Being there felt… odd… unnatural.

She always thought if she were ever walking through the paddocks she would be walking as a driver.

What was even more odd was she felt her senses tingling, like she was being watched.

It was a bustling crowded place with many more interesting people compared to her, so it was weird to her that she felt like she was being watched of all people.

But alas, she brushed it off. It didn’t feel like anything bad—if it were, she would know—so she’s just going to have to save that thought for later.

She had to remind herself why she’s here; daydream in real-time of what could’ve been.

Yeah, she weren’t really keen on letting that go.

That is, until she was into her head she failed to notice the person—and group of people that came with said person—she was running into.

Before she knew it, a strong arm was holding her back with too much force for her liking, the action itself almost kicking in her self defense instinct until the person she did bump into pushed the hand away.

He was now talking to her, she assumed, but she was too focused on the person who had pushed her away.

Something about him felt… off. He was what she would count as freakishly huge for a normal human being, her eyes couldn’t help but recalculate the large man over and over until eventually the person that has been trying to get her attention snaps her out of it.

“Sorry, that’s Theo, he’s like that. I swear he doesn’t mean any harm.”

The scowl she hadn’t realized that made it’s way to her face slowly dropped as she slowly move her gaze to the person that was talking to her.

When their eyes met, she swore she saw a flash of something pass by his expression.

“Yeah,” she finally let go of this ‘Theo’ person and found her words, “Sorry I bumped into you.”

“That’s fine.” There was a brief silence across them until he cleared his throat, “I’m Logan, by the way.”

“Yeah, I know. You drive for Williams.” She replied flatly.

He cleared his throat again, scanning her for the shortest moment, “Do I know you?”

She looked to his eyes again with a small squint. “Most likely not. Good luck, bye.”

Before he could say anything else she was already speed-walking away. And for some odd reason, Logan found himself watching her walk away before getting pulled away himself just in the same time as the girl turned around to give a watchful eye.

It was getting annoying. This was supposed to be a weekend to enjoy but she could not help but feel that uneasiness creeping up on her. Over the years she had somewhat mastered the ability—well more the ability mastering her—of sensing bad things, whether that was events or creatures alike.

So, to simply put that together, that’s how she found herself sneaking around the Williams garage. Not hospitality, garage.

From years of quests here and there, many hours of weapons training, and not to mention capture the flag schemings with other campers, she had mastered the skill of being sneaky. It really did work well in her favor.

What she didn’t expect was to be completely entranced the moment she got into the busy garage; it was the first time she was seeing a real life-size F1 car in real-time.

Everything was so enchanting to her, it felt like she was reliving her childhood dreams all over again. When she had gone through with her plan, she didn’t really register the fact that she was going to go face to face with an actual working Formula One garage.

She really tried to stay focused on the task at hand but it really was in her blood to be unfocused.

“Hey!”

Somehow, just somehow, she had heard his voice over the loud noises around her and just somehow, she knew he was addressing her.

Immediately, she tried to hide or duck behind something—anything just so she didn’t have to face him.

Before she knew it a hand was gripping her upper arm and pulling her somewhere quieter and she was met with green eyes that looked at her with suspicion.

“Are you like a fan or something?”

She was taken aback by his words.

“…what?”

“Are you following me?”

“What—no. I mean not you specifically—why did I say that.” she whispered the last part to herself. If she was being honest, she hasn’t really been brushing up her skills in socializing with anyone else that weren’t the campers.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing! I—”

Their conversation—if you could’ve called it that anyway—was interrupted by the same man she had been suspecting from earlier.

“There you are.” It was the first time she was hearing his voice and just by that she already knew that they were going to be in big trouble. His voice was low and unnerving, saying the words as if he’s been searching for them not for worried purposes rather unfortunate ones.

Logan didn’t seem to have the same feeling as her as he looked more relieved among other things to see the man. “Theo!” he greeted while throwing his hands in the air, “What’s up, man?”

Fortunately for Logan, Theo wasn’t exactly paying attention to him instead looking at the girl in front of him instead.

When he noticed he tried to interfere, “Oh, no, don’t worry about her, she’s not harmful.” He then realized he didn’t exactly know this girl so he looked at her with questioning eyes, “You aren’t, right?”

Except her focus didn’t waver from the big man that looked at her with a stare that tried to kill.

Logan, still clueless, looked between the two back and forth in confusion until Theo said something that really caught his attention.

“Daughter of Poseidon.” Theo growled.

Logan’s head couldn’t snap towards her faster.

“Shit.” She mumbled under her breath.

Before they knew it, she had grabbed a hold of his hand and running away with it, Logan still very much in shock at this new information he attained.

Through empty places and crowded ones, the girl forgot that the man she had ahold of weren’t just anyone but a very real and hard-to-miss Formula One driver. Sure, he was a rookie but a driver nonetheless.

But she couldn’t care less about the attention she was gaining; she was far too busy running for her life than think about cameras and the public.

“What the hell was he talking about? Poseidon?!” she didn’t answer his panicked question so he continued instead, “Are you a half-blood too?”

The ‘too’ in his question was what finally caught her attention but still, she didn’t answer him, only cursing herself for not noticing one when she saw one.

Just when she thought they had lost them, the monster once disguised as Theo was standing there at the end of the opening, she and Logan had slipped in.

Next thing she knew she was fumbling around trying to fight off the apparent Giant that was Theo.

“What the hell are you doing there, mind a little help over here?” she yelled over at Logan who was pretty much… useless in the corner.

He continued to panic, looking for anything he could use to get the Giant off of her.

Suddenly, while she was struggling to get the Giant’s grip off of her, the force stopped as a cloud of mist poofed where the monster was once before. She quickly scrambled herself up and was met with a figure in McLaren clothing holding a gold-dust colored weapon pointing at her.

“Oscar Piastri?!”

He didn’t answer her, dagger still pointing at her direction, “Who are you?”

Putting her hands out in defense she explained herself, “I respect that.” she commented, “I’m Y/N L/N, I am the daughter of Poseidon,” then she cautiously pointed at the Australian, “I’m assuming you’re a half-blood too.” she nodded at him, “Who do you belong to?”

Oscar then slowly lowered his weapon, his trust building by the minute, “Athena.”

Then both of them turn to Logan simultaneously.

“No!” he got defensive immediately, “I want to know what just happened!” he pointed accusingly.

All of a sudden, it just finally hit Oscar, “Poseidon?!”

The sea god’s daughter made a face and ignored the Australian, “What do you mean what just happened? Typical demigod stuff!”

The look on his face made her double-take, “You… do have occasional encounters with monsters here and there… right?”

When Logan’s expression doesn’t change, she turns to Oscar.

“I have this for a reason.” He said slowly, showing her the dagger. “—and, well, if I’m being honest, that has never happened before.”

“Shit.” she shakes her head in disappointment then pulling out her phone, “I need to make a phone call.”

She left the two men by themselves and went ahead as the line rings a couple of times before getting an answer.

After a brief conversation—that will continue later for details—the girl locked her phone and walked towards the two drivers.

“You’re coming with me this summer. It will not be up for debate and don’t worry about your… duties, I have it covered.”

Logan was quick to stop her explanations, “Wait—what—no! At least explain what the hell that phone call was about. You can’t just drop all that on us and expect us to be okay with it.

She rolls her eyes, “I’ll explain later, right now, you two have a job to do.” They didn’t object to that, the three of them walking out the pretty-hidden space the Giant had decided to corner them before.

Oscar stopped just outside, “I can take care of myself if anything else decide to come out and attack me, you should probably go with him. And uh, I actually need to talk to you,” he pointed at her, “—later. Not exactly letting you off the hook that easily.”

She didn’t complain.

The two walked in silence, every once in a while getting stopped for a picture and such, until Logan speaks up.

“Apollo.”

She turned to him, eyebrow raised.

“My dad.”

“Oh.” She paused then comments, “Fitting.”

He didn’t know what it was in her voice, it didn’t sound exactly like a compliment but he wasn’t sure if it was an insult.

Whatever, he shrugged it off.

After that, they both went into their own train of thoughts.

Without noticing, they both sucked in a breath in unison.

“I’m sorry for—”

“I think you should—”

The two quickly stepped back from whatever it was they were going to say, heat rushing up their necks. They kept walking on the awkward silence that fell upon them until Logan re-focused his attention and remembering what she had said—well, what she almost said earlier.

“Wait—‘sorry’? What were you apologizing for?” he turned to her who was now ducking away from his eyes, her own focus stayed on her fidgeting hands.

She made a noise before finally finding her words, “It’s just—this always happens, you know. I’m a forbidden kid, I attract the worst kind of trouble there is for half-bloods. And earlier; I had brought it to you and Oscar.” he was going to say something to ease her guilt but she beat him to it, “I’m just glad that monster didn’t hurt any of you.” She threw her hands in the air, “I mean, it’s qualifying day for Gods sake! —maybe I shouldn’t go to the race tomorrow.” She mumbled the last part to herself, though not quietly enough that the driver didn’t hear.

Logan was taken aback by her statement, giving him an opening on his almost-offer.

“What—no! Why not?” he asked.

“Look, it’s bad enough that there’s two demigods in one place; adding a forbidden kid in the mix won’t really make it any better. I still want everyone to have a safe race. Who knows what kind of other monsters I could attract.”

From every point of view Logan could gather, it was simply a fact that this girl knows about their world far more than he did, far more than Oscar did, so he couldn’t really be the voice of judgement in whatever she had to say. But… he wanted her to stay.

It calmed him down for some reason, knowing someone shares the same—if not, worse—fate as you.

So, he tried to find a reason, a good reason to make her stay. Of course, he wasn’t a pro at this half-blood thing so he offered something that he was familiar with. He gave her a more… human reason.

“I think you should stay.” He blurted.

“Logan—”

“Dude—is it alright if I called you that?”

“Uh, go nuts.”

“You deserve to have some fun, watch a race! I’ll even have you as an official Williams guest!”

She hummed with a smile creeping up.

“And if you’re worried about trouble, that’s fine. We can always handle trouble! We are all trouble-bound any way, better face them now than later! Plus, I think it’d be good if you could teach us the basics early.”

She felt the warmth spread through her chest. It’s been a while since she felt someone so welcoming that wasn’t anyone within Camp Half-blood. It was nice. He was nice. Almost made her forget that she was in the place she was meant to be in.

Her heart felt wholesome, but didn’t make it show, her mouth couldn’t stop the comment from escaping her mouth instead.

“You really want me to stay, huh?”

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #ls2 #ls2 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #williams racing #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1

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ask-whitepearl-and-steven · 1 year

Note

would you have any small writing tips to share with others who are attempting to write their own stories?

Sure.

Disclaimer: This is not a full on tutorial on how to write. These are just tiny, tiny little grains of wisdom of things I realized here and there. Do not eat this advice like a full course meal. It isn't one. It's just a dusting of some spices, and I am salt bae-ing them over you, but they are not calorically relevant without a story.

1. Help your readers read your story.

AKA: If you want your readers to build a house, you better take them to a Home Depot and teach them how to use a screwdriver first.

You want your readers to read your story easily? You gotta make your story easy to read. That means learning how to make sentences easier to understand. That means breaking up walls of text into smaller bites. That means - yes - spelling words consistently and using accessible (not Correct, necessarily, but ACCESSIBLE) grammar!

You want your readers to understand your world? You gotta give your readers tools to understand it with. That means explaining new concepts! That means describing stuff a lot! That means using visual language if you don't have actual visuals!

Your readers will not read your mind to know what you MEANT to say. You have to say what you mean. You have to mean what you write. Learn to write clearly. Learn to help your readers.

2. Something that takes you a month to make will take your audience ten minutes to read.

You want to spend an hour drawing one comic panel? Great. You wanna spend an hour writing a single paragraph? Fantastic. You wanna use up a week perfecting a script? Amazing!

Your readers will still glance at that panel for a second before moving on. Your readers will still eat that paragraph in a bite. Your readers will skim that script. If you're lucky.

You cannot control how much your work is appreciated. But you CAN control how much of your time you sacrifice to make it.

Balance the scales.

3. You are not talented.

Neither am I. Nor are any of us.

Listen to me. Listen.

Talent is a beautiful, useful word. But it often lies to us. It suggests that we are born better than others.

This is not often accurate. What talent hides within itself is not pre-ordained inherent skill. It is not something you are birthed being. It is not a statistical difference of physicality.

Talent starts with passion.

Maybe you have passion for stories - so you beg your grandfather to read to you before you can recognize words, and you write a lot in every school assignment, and you pay attention to EVERY story you watch in school plays, and you observe all the characters you see in movies, and you CARE. So. Much. And this moves you to try to write, and then to try again, and then to try harder.

Talent does not exist, because no amount of 'you were made for running' can make you run. No amount of 'you were the son of great authors' can make you write.

But inherent curiosity can push you forward. Inherent curiosity can make you watch, and observe, even before you understand you are observing. Inherent curiosity for your personal interests makes you a fan of writing, of drawing, of world-building. It makes you research how to be a great author before you even know what research is. It auto-tunes you to what you know is good about these things, and it gives you the necessary tools to know what will work and what won't.

So when you think you are talented, understand that this is not something that was done to you in the womb. It was something you raised, and watered like a seed, before you even knew what you were growing.

Don't rely on talent. Understand that you got this far because you CARE about this thing. And don't forget to care. Because that's what has carried you this far, and it is the only thing that can carry you even farther.

also, cringe is dead.

#chekhov answers

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comradeboyhalo · 8 months

Text

It's crazy how literally everything about why Bad is fucked up can be linked to Atlantis. I don't even think the Federation is half of his trauma.

He lies compulsively about everything, but his whole identity is built on a lie. He's just made of lies. Yes, he lies because he's mischievous, but I don't think he can stop lying. He is so fearful of his past catching up to him, that, for 11,600 years, he's been lying about not being a demon. Telling someone what species you are is just introductory level knowledge. And Bad cannot even reveal that much to others. When we're starting with this much repression, is it really a surprise that he can't ever be truthful? And this, of course, all began because he's terrified that people will find out he destroyed a city.

He has a "family first" mindset that isn't exactly original, but it is unusually intense. He is very much the type to burn the world for his loved ones, and he's very willing to act on it. Every parent had heavily grieved the loss of their kids, and many of them unleash this grief in destructively. No parent has swung so far dark that they actively tortured another being. This is NOT to say Bad loves his children "more", this is only to prove that Bad's extreme is just so far removed from everyone else's. This can all stem from the fact that Bad's relationship with loss has, in my opinion, permanently fucked up the way he forms attachment.

So, everyone in Atlantis dies. Great. Bad tries to live. He forms friendship with more mortals. They die. He forms new friendships. They die again. This repeats for thousands of years. The only exception to this rule is Skeppy, and his relationship with Skeppy borders on co-dependency. His "obsession" with Skeppy feels so foreign to other islanders, and it should be from a mortal standpoint. But Bad has to be careful about who he lets in to avoid loss, so if he can love one person freely, then of course he will love them with everything. The same can be said for Dapper and Pomme. They're his children, and he loves them without any of the paranoia he subjects to anyone else. And then every single attachment gets taken away from him. He doesn't have an anchor anymore. It's not surprising he's forming an unhealthy dependency on Ron, and he's not going to give a fuck about anyone's feelings or morals if it means getting his family back.

The same can be said for his paranoia. He's overly paranoid because he was forcibly summoned to a place where everyone around him died. This is canon, confirmed by cc!Bad himself. He's been like this BEFORE getting dumped on murder mystery island! And if his paranoia is worsening because of the island, then of course his "worse" is going to feel drastically more intense than others'. Everything here is just validating pre-existing habits.

All of this is a cocktail for emotional disaster. Bad has been hard at work repressing everything for 11,000 years, and is losing everyone he uses to keep himself sane. I'm not even sure how he can heal from the loss of Dapper and Pomme, even if temporary, because he hasn't even begun to heal from Atlantis. It makes his friends' desperation to save him that much sadder. They're out of their depth with this one, the first step has to be made by Bad himself, and nothing he has done has convinced me that step will happen.

#qsmp #badboyhalo #analysis

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suzukiblu · 8 months

Note

comfort w tim please? (i just want some fluff dkjshekdb 😂)

Well, this excerpt isn't Tim comfort, but hopefully counts for Tim fluff?

Context: pre-identity reveal/identity porn/idiots to lovers TimKon.

"Sounds like supervillain talk, dude," Kon says. Tim resolves to dial back on that at this point in his career. He's laying groundwork, yes, but subtlety is still the wiser course of action.

"You say that like you've never socialized with a supervillain before," he says dryly.

"Well, usually ones who wear a bit less," Kon replies, grinning wickedly at him.

"So you're telling me I should invest in a crop top before I try to take over the world and remake it in my own image?" Tim asks still more dryly as he raises an eyebrow at him with a little smirk, and Kon laughs and steps in a little closer, giving him a not very subtle up-and-down with his eyes.

"Only if you're trying to recruit me for your evil plans," he says, grin turning sharp. Tim wants to lick his teeth. "So I dunno, what are your feelings on Daisy Dukes?"

"I'm going to be honest, I'm not actually that much of an exhibitionist so at this point we're just describing my ideal costume updates for you," Tim informs him.

"Oh yeah?" Kon asks with another laugh even as he visibly preens at the suggestion. Tim is all for that, personally. Both the preening and the theoretical updates, in fact. And, a little more weirdly, just the idea of having anything to do with what Kon might ever decide to wear.

Yeah, that's probably a later thought, Tim decides. Like, a private-time kind of later thought.

"You're solar-powered, aren't you?" he says reasonably. "Showing a bit more skin can't hurt."

"I wonder if Superman would buy that excuse," Kon says musingly.

"Power Girl exists," Tim says still more reasonably. "And Supergirl wears a miniskirt, last I checked."

"Valid," Kon says, putting on a mock-thoughtful expression and tapping the side of his jaw. "Maybe I'll put in some cutouts and go for a lower neckline, tell the big guy he's making the rest of us look like prudes. What do you think, bikini or high-cut bottoms?"

"I don't know the difference," Tim lies, desperately trying not to overheat and die at that question and every single accompanying mental image that his useless brain has so helpfully decided to supply. "You'll have to provide examples."

"Will I now," Kon says, grinning all over again and pointedly cocking a hip. "What, pretty boy, you want a fashion show?"

"Well I did want to be a photographer when I was a kid," Tim says, although it was definitely never that kind of photography he had in mind. Kon laughs again and shifts in even closer, though, so it's worth it. Tim is mortified, but also undeniably into just . . . all of this, really, just everything about this conversation. Robin can't flirt with Superboy, but, well . . .

He's taking advantage a little, he can admit, but it's still just . . . nice.

He's wanted to flirt with Kon for way too long, at this point. Indulging in a little bit of it isn't the worst thing he could do.

And again, it's Kon, so it's not like it's serious or anything. The guy won't even remember this conversation tomorrow, much less anything about Tim Drake.

. . . admittedly that'd be counterproductive to Tim's long-term goals here, but still. He's willing to take his time on this. There's a plan. It has steps. Layers. Processes.

"I like you, man," Kon says with a wider grin, which is in absolutely no way whatsoever in the plan. "You're funny."

It occurs to Tim, almost disbelievingly, that he might've . . . made a good impression on Kon? Somehow?

Well that's weird.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #dc robin #superboy #anonymous #rinfic #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon

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wakeup01 · 4 months

Text

The Shorts, Like, Maketh The Man

The black shorts were just laying there, hanging off the empty bench. I know, I know. But I wasn’t usually the type to pick up sweaty used clothing in the street, but there was something drawing me to them. Calling out to me. They weren’t really my style even, clearly gym shorts for the sort of person who spends at least an hour a day looking in the mirror. I’d never even set foot in a gym. But still, they were…nice. The polyester material felt good in my hand. Silky. There was clearly some text on the back of them but I was too excited to bother reading it. Maybe I could have them? It didn’t seem like the owner wanted them anymore anyway. I look around for any onlookers and quietly take them, stuffing them away in my pocket.

I wanted to try them on. Needed to. Finding a secluded area, I remove my trousers and pull the smooth fabric up my unimpressive legs. They felt incredibly good around my waist, like they were made for me. There was a warmth radiating from them. Mmff. They seem to press against…all the right places. Clinging to my skin. I catch myself letting out a soft moan, my face blushing red at hearing the sound. Maybe I should take them off, it would be weird to walk home in someone else’s—someone…some..one. Mine. They were my shorts. I leave the baggy trousers behind and step out into the street, an extra boost of confidence in my step.

While I’m walking my body feels slightly off, as if my weight distribution had shifted. Each foot forward felt heavier, stronger. People start to turn and gaze at me. I catch a glimpse of my chunky arms; were they always that veiny? Huh. I see my reflection strutting in a shop window and freeze on the spot. What on earth? There was a completely different person staring back at me. He was sexy as all hell. I looked like a utter gymrat. I touch my sharp, smooth jaw and run my fingers over my harsh buzzed hair. The visage in the reflection copies my exact movements, a large, self assured smirk set on their face. Curious, I lift the hem of my t-shirt. Woah! I was completely jacked! You could sharpen a blade on these abs.

Somehow I had gained pounds of lean muscle in a matter of minutes and my skin had been tanned a luscious golden hue. Certainly, I wasn’t about to complain about this turn of events. Maybe I should pick up discarded clothes more often!

Fuck, my body was li—like, fit. Just check it out. I pull out my phone and take a selfie. Okay. Maybe several selfies. Fine, maybe it was a couple dozen. Who gives a fuck when you look this hot. I didn’t even care about the pedestrians walking past and staring. They SHOULD stare. Admire this prize. This TROPHY. I was in peak form from head to toe. The shiny shorts accentuated my thick, meaty legs perfectly.

My eyes suddenly catch the time on my phone, pulling me out of my shameless self obsession. Damn, at this rate I was gonna be late for Daddy. Wait. Daddy? That’s not right, I wasn’t…

Ugh. My mind felt all jumbled up, like a finished jigsaw puzzle suddenly dropped to the floor. Pieces scattered. It was…I needed to…Daddy! Like, of course. After all, I was just a trophy boy. HIS trophy. An accessory for him to show off. Sculpting my body just how daddy likes it; my muscles existed for his enjoyment. Not that I didn’t enjoy them too…hmm.

My head hurt. Fuck. Was that right? No, I couldn’t be just some brainless boy toy. Now it made sense why the owner abandoned these damn shorts. Shit, It was altering my mind. I was becoming…I needed to remove these—mmff. But right then I feel the shorts squeeze on my bulge. It felt incredible! I shouldn’t, but I never, like, you know, wanted it to stop. My sensitive cock pulsed, thickening while stretching across the fabric. Ahhh! I grin inanely as pre drips down my leg. Like, yeah. Da—daddy loved his boy all hard. He loved when I did as he instructed. A pretty plastic toy to pose and play with. I was so proud to be his. Yes, I was his; body and mind. Like, how did I forget? I can be such an air-headed ditz sometimes. It’s a good thing Daddy also likes his twunky boys dumb; dumb, vapid and full of cum. I was good at those things. Huhuhuh.

I turn around - biting my lip - and look at my tight rear. The shorts thin fabric was digging between the two round globes. ‘Daddy’s Trophy’ was emblazoned on the back, across my cheeks. Mmff. I give my butt a light slap and watch it jiggle. I happily let out a pleasurable moan; it made me feel nice that everyone would know what I am. Explaining it was like, soo difficult and stuff. Daddy says I shouldn’t stress my pretty little head over such complex things. Uhhh. Anyway, these shorts were his favourite, all his boys wore them. He loved watching me dutifully clean the house in them. Or working out in them. Or obediently fucking him in them. Or being fucked…bouncing on his lap.

Oh right! I just remembered! I was supposed to meet him. Sir wanted to finalise our arrangement, there was one last thing to change before I could sign that dull agreement. His trophy boys were always blond. Blond and basic. Huhu. Just like I was about to be.

#brainwashing #transformation #gay #twunk

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isaksbestpillow · 3 months

Text

Iura Arata & Miura Shouhei interview on Modelpress

I translated an Ossan's Love interview with Iura Arata (Izumi) and Miura Shouhei (Kiku) on Modelpress! I skipped the introduction so this is just the interview part. Full article with pictures in the source.

First, how did it feel to get the offer for Ossan’s Love Returns?

Iura: I’ve already worked with producer Kijima Sari three times on Niji-iro karute, Ano toki kiss shite okeba, Unknown, and now Ossan’s Love. Joining a pre-existing team on a show with history puts you to the test. You think you have to bring something new to the table and you wonder what you came to do here, putting these pressures on yourself. It’s no easy feat to jump into the world of Ossan's Love in the middle.

However, what the roles I’ve gotten from producer Kijima have in common is they’ve all, in one way or another, discussed themes of overcoming the grief of losing someone. In my performance on Ossan’s Love I’m exploring new approaches to this theme within the show’s world.

Miura: I also first worked with producer Kijima on Ano toki kiss shite okeba. There are a few people whose offers I never decline, and she is one of those people. I had been watching Ossan’s Love before, so when I got the offer, I remember being more excited as a viewer that Ossan’s Love was getting a sequel.

What do you think makes Ossan’s Love so charming?

Miura: These older men are so serious and pure in their love. It’s both adorable and heartbreaking, it warms your heart to see it. As a regular viewer I was simply enjoying the show, but as soon as I entered the set, I understood the Ossan’s Love team is brimming with love, the cast and the staff all come together as a team to create this show. I understood the reason why Ossan’s Love is so loved by fans and resonates with audiences.

Iura: It’s a wonderful show first of all, one that has left its mark in our time, so entering the set made me feel even more strongly that I need to come prepared to face this work. Even so, the Ossan’s Love team took us in with open arms, and I feel the love and passion they have for this show.

You have worked with each other before. Were there moments when you felt reassured by each other’s presence amidst the pressure of filming?

Iura: I first worked with Miura-kun on Ano toki kiss shite okeba. We kissed on that show, so he’s my first same-sex kiss.

Miura: We’d already kissed before Ossan’s Love, haha.

Iura: Yes, haha. We also play a father and son on Hikaru kimi e, so we’ve been working together for about six months, and as our work together increases, we start thinking we want to try something new next time, putting these pressures on ourselves again, haha. But truly, with Miura-kun I don’t have to worry about a thing, but I don’t want to feel safe, that’s my mindset. It feels reassuring to be able to maintain that kind of a relationship, we can try new things, so working with him is a lot of fun.

Miura: Exactly. Conversely, I wonder how the relationship between our characters would’ve turned out if we’d been strangers. It’s already quite intimidating to join a team where everyone already knows each other to play a romantic relationship, and if your romantic partner is someone you haven’t worked with before, that makes it that much harder. But since my partner was Arata-san, I was safe and secure, haha.

You said you were welcomed with open arms on set. How was the filming?

Miura & Iiura: It’s such a wonderful environment!

Miura: Of course, there have been plenty of friendly shoots, but I hadn’t really experienced a filming like this before where the laughter is never-ending. It was probably the most hilarious shoot of my career. I mean, the director is howling of laughter behind the camera.

Iura: You hear laughter during the actual shoot, haha. Everyone is chitchatting right up until the test shoot. In my younger days I might’ve snapped at that and become a bothersome person, believing the set should be more charged, but Ossan’s Love makes me see this kind of shoots are good, too.

The cast and staff are all artisans with their own decks of cards, so when the cameras start rolling, it becomes a game of who plays their trump card. Everyone is so focused on their performance you start to wonder what was that happy chatter just moments earlier. This ability to switch between modes is what keeps the shooting fun.

Miura: It’s a fun but also a very balanced environment.

Do you have any anecdotes or scenes where you felt like you had entered the world of Ossan’s Love?

Iura: On my first day, I filmed a scene with Kei-kun’s Haruta where he does his “what’s going on???” reaction. I didn’t understand what was happening at all, but behind me Kei-kun was moving a lot, the world of Ossan’s Love and Haruta that I’d seen before were right there, and it made me think, “Oh, we’re filming Ossan’s Love! I’m filming Ossan’s Love!”

Miura: Mine is also from the first day, when I entered the shoot at a different time from Arata-san, I saw Kei-kun gracefully emerge from the studio bus, followed by Koutarou-san, and that’s when I thought, “Ahh, this is Ossan’s Love!”

Can you tell us more about your feelings towards your roles?

Iura: To Izumi, Kiku is someone whose presence he takes for granted, whose presence makes him feel so at ease he’s like air, like a married couple. But Izumi hasn’t caught on Kiku’s feelings at all, so even when their eyes meet and Kiku looks at him like a puppy, Izumi believes that’s just Kiku’s personality. Izumi hasn’t yet realized how grateful he should be that Kiku continues to be there for him and see him even though Izumi does nothing, but as an actor I feel the continuous love pouring out of Kiku.

Miura: Right now, Izumi-san can’t survive without Kiku, haha. He was incredible in the police force, but Kiku has seen his hopelessness since losing Akito, so Kiku feels like he should support him. In addition, he’s also in love with Izumi but bottles up those feelings, and as they spend time together, the lid on those feelings begins to crack open… I think that’s when this interview will come out, haha.

Miura: Izumi and Kiku’s story is going to unfold moving forward, but while grieving Akito Izumi also appears develop feelings for Haruta-san… How will this rice ball ball shaped love-triangle turn out?

What can we look forward to in the relationship between Izumi and Kiku?

Iura: Haha. Seriously a lot is going to happen, but what’s going to happen to Kiku… In any case, Kiku is hurt inside.

Miura: Since taking this role, I’ve mostly looked hurt. I make a heartbroken face at least once per shooting day.

Iura: Izumi and Kiku are both hurt in different ways, so they’re always heartbroken, haha. What will happen when they face each other? Or will they face each other? I hope you’ll enjoy the rest of the story, this aspect included .

#ossan's love returns #ossan's love #iura arata #miura shouhei #my translations

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jessamine-rose · 7 months

Text

⋆ Sunt Lacrimae Rerum ⋆

Of all devils, I didn’t think Lucifer would be the second to inspire his own one-shot. Fun fact, this idea was originally for my next set of WHB headcanons but it expanded into its own fic. Thanks for the brainrot and historical revelations, Lucifer ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

Note:: Pre-release Lucifer, dacryphilia

♡ 0.8k words under the cut ♡

As Lucifer’s lover, you are a willing subject to his desires. The taste of your tears, the sight of your crying face, his influence over your body—all of it constitutes his forbidden fruit, one he can never get enough of.

Unfortunately, due to your roles in Hell, the two of you rarely have time for each other. Days can pass in Lucifer’s absence, in the company of other devils, in a haze of longing and insecurity. At times, you wonder: Does he miss you? How can you retain his favor in spirit?

The idea comes in the form of a memory. Once, while browsing the internet, you came across a photo of vintage “tear-catchers.” According to the description, the aesthetic vials were used by mourning Victorians; a few were even found in ancient Greek and Roman tombs. Granted, you’re still alive and your lover prefers fresh tears, but it would be a nice keepsake. A small part of you forever in his possession.

Thus begins your mission to prepare a special gift for Lucifer! First, you ask your friends to help you acquire a tear-catcher. After a few questions and odd looks, Ppyong brings you to the best craftsman in Gehenna. The glass-blower is also confused by your commission, but it doesn’t take long for them to create a personalized tear-catcher.

Next, you have to fill the vial with your own tears. This is achieved by watching sad movies, cutting onions, and following tutorials on how to cry. Now the final step is to present it to your beloved and witness his reaction~

⋆ ✦ ⋆

“Oh, what’s this?”

As expected, the tear-catcher is a perfect fit for Lucifer. Gilt, black enamel, and scarlet beads form a serpentine design. A ruby, sculpted in the shape of a familiar horn, serves as the stopper. Most curious are the contents, a clear liquid of higher viscosity than water.

On his desk rests an opened box and untied ribbons. Carefully, you place the gift in his hands and offer a bright smile.

“Do you like it? It was made just for you!”

He accepts it, eyes alight with curiosity. “This fluid feels familiar. Is this…?”

Your smile widens. “Yup, these are my tears! You’re probably familiar with tear-catchers, right? I commissioned a craftsman to make one, then I used it every time I cried. What do you think?”

A product of your blood, sweat, and tears—minus the blood.

For a few seconds, Lucifer just stares at the gift. Black nails carefully grip the bottle, tilting it ever so slightly to make the tears flow. You remain in front of his desk, shifting your stance.

Finally, he looks up. Gold eyes make contact with yours, bright with amusement.

“It’s pretty,” he comments. “And I can only imagine the effort it took to fill it with your own tears.”

He likes it! “You’re welcome!”

“But I do wonder,” he continues. He sets down the bottle, curiosity overtaking his features. “You do know that tear-catchers are a hoax, yes?”

…What?

He takes your silence as an answer. “No such item existed in the Victorian era or any historical period. In reality, what humans call ‘tear-catchers’ are actually perfume bottles. One of this type would typically be disposed of once empty.”

“I…I see.” Your smile falters, pride giving way to chagrin. “Of course, someone like you would’ve immediately recognized it if they were legit. Ahh now everyone’s reactions make sense.”

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

A soft laugh interrupts your thoughts.

When you look up, the tear-catcher is off the desk. Lucifer holds it up to the light, a soft smile making its way to his face.

“Nonetheless, I appreciate the gesture,” he tells you. His eyes are blown wide, light against darkness. “And your pride was absolutely delicious, so do remain satisfied with your present. It will be of great comfort to me during our time apart.”

“I…all right!” Your cheeks remain flushed but no longer from embarrassment. “That is good to hear. At least my time wasn’t wasted.”

“Besides.” He rises from his desk, leaning closer to caress your cheek. “I prefer seeing your tears on your face. Won’t you indulge me again, ______?”

⋆ BONUS ⋆

______: SEVEN DAYS!!

Satan: What are they talking about?

Ppyong: It’s not that big of a deal—

Sitri: We wanted to honor your dedication—

______: That’s how long you stood by and watched me cry into a fake antique! Do you know how difficult it was to deposit my tears into such a tiny bottle?!

♡

Still hornii?? Read my other WHB fics <3

To think that I learned the truth of the tear-catcher because of an R18 game….y’all can also thank @diodellet for inspiring this idea during a chat about Genshin *cough* I highly recommend her Lyney fic *cough*

Among the devils we haven’t met yet, Lucifer piqued my interest by virtue of looking so pretty. I can’t wait to learn more about him~

Tag a WHB enjoyer!! @sparkbeast20 @2af-afterdark @pinkaditty @h2o2-and-baking-soda @paradivis @gr0tesquerom4ntica @dobaekki @obeythisass @karinyawhb22 @yanmaresu @jazeswhbvault @devilmen-collector

#whb lucifer #lucifer #lucifer x reader #whb lucifer x reader #whb x reader #whb #what in hell is bad #what in hell is bad x reader #what in “hell” is bad?#g/n reader #jessamine-writing

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nebuladreamerrr · 9 days

Text

“Where is mom?”| Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

Summary: After a day filled with the profound exertion of bringing your second child into the world, a moment of tender anticipation arrives: it's time for your eldest to meet her new sibling.

Warnings: English is not my first language

After enduring six grueling hours of labor, you finally welcomed little Jules into the world—a spitting image of his father. As the nurse reassured you of his perfect health after all the tests performed to check both his heart and hearing, your thoughts drifted to your daughter, Manon, and how she might be feeling on this momentous day.

"Are you okay, my love?" Kylian's concerned voice interrupted your reverie as he made skin-to-skin contact on the couch in the room with Jules.

"Do you think Manon is okay?" you whispered, trying not to disturb the baby sleeping in your husband's arms.

"Honey, everything will be fine. You know she's with my mother, and if she was sick or something had happened, she would have contacted us," Kylian reassured, his voice gentle and soothing.

"Yes, Kylian, but she's not used to changes, and today has been anything but routine. Could you text your mother and ask her to come today instead of waiting until tomorrow to meet the baby? And to bring Manon with her, please," you pleaded, concern evident in your tone.

"Of course, my love. But try to relax and rest. I'm sure she's fine and just eager to cuddle us," Kylian said, gently laying Jules in his cot before enveloping you in a comforting embrace.

Your concern for Manon might have seemed excessive to some, but your motherly instinct told you otherwise. You knew your daughter well, and despite the joyous occasion, something deep down told you she wasn't having a good day. It had been a challenging few months for your family, especially for her. Manon was accustomed to being the center of attention, the youngest grandchild and only daughter of doting parents. Kylian, in particular, showered her with affection, earning her the title of "daddy's girl." Even on days when he had to travel for matches, he made sure she knew she was always his little girl. They had a ritual: before each pre-match training, he recorded himself telling her a story, allowing you to play it for her at bedtime. Often, she fell asleep hugging the mobile phone that displayed her father's face.

When you found out you were pregnant again, you couldn't help but worry about Manon's reaction. However, she surprised you by being thrilled at the news. Her excitement grew when she found out she was going to have a baby brother, and her joy was more than evident at the baby shower, where she participated enthusiastically as the one who popped the balloon revealing the gender of her baby brother.

But not everything had been smooth sailing in the past few months. Manon quickly grasped the concept of becoming a big sister. You couldn't blame her; you knew you and Kylian had indulged her, but how could you resist? So it wasn't surprising when she cried inconsolably as Kylian explained that she would have to stop sleeping in your double bed because the baby would need a lot of nighttime care. If she slept with you, she wouldn't get much rest.

Similarly, there was something you hadn't told Kylian in any depth because what little he knew had broken his heart, and had ended with him clinging to you as you both wept inconsolably, apologizing to her for having to leave home. But your little girl wasn't coping well with having to leave France next year, and you couldn't blame her. She had only just started kindergarten this year and had managed to make many friends at her little school. In addition, this year she had managed to start going to a ballet academy where she felt like a real princess in every class. You completely understood her frustration and understood how everything she knew would quickly cease to exist. There would be no more afternoons in the park, no more afternoons playing with Navas' children, and even your little girl would have to get used to another teacher and other doctors. But you knew that this was the best thing for Kylian and that he deserved to fulfill his dream. So you tried to convince your little girl, assuring her that she could still talk to her friends on your mobile, and you would keep in touch with their mothers so that, as soon as you returned to France for a holiday, your little girl could see her friends.

So when Fayza got that call, she couldn't have been happier. It was customary for her granddaughter to stay at Fayza’s home, but it had been exhausting trying to distract her when her little mind was elsewhere. Fayza had done her best to make the day entertaining, but it had started on a rough note. When your water broke at five in the morning, Kylian took you to the hospital, and they had to make a quick stop at Fayza's house to drop off your daughter. Fayza had prayed that her granddaughter would fall asleep quickly, as she had on many previous occasions, but it wasn't meant to be. Manon stayed awake all day, and by seven in the morning, Fayza had given up trying to coax her to sleep.

She had tried to make the day better by preparing her granddaughter's favorite breakfast, little Mickey Mouse waffles, accompanied by a good session of her favorite cartoons, but the plan failed when she barely took a bite. No matter what Fayza tried to cheer her up, the day wasn't working: not playing princesses, not a Disney movie marathon, not an afternoon with her uncle Ethan, who decided not to go out with his friends to try to improve his niece's mood. But when the clock struck five in the afternoon, the little girl couldn't take it any longer and cried inconsolably missing her mother.

Your daughter was very attached to her father, mostly because he was the father figure she saw the least of in her day-to-day life. As long as Manon felt you were close, everything was under control, but that day you were far away from her. Ethan quickly tried to calm her crying by singing her a little song while holding her in his arms and moving around the house. That calmed her for a moment, but both Ethan and Fayza knew that if the little girl did not see her mother that day, none of the household would be able to sleep that night.

Fayza tried to encourage Kylian about her little girl's state of mind by commenting that if they needed quiet and rest, it might not be advisable to take her to the hospital. However, Kylian played it down, thinking that her mother was simply worrying too much.

With a smile, Fayza turned to Manon and said, "Honey, put your coat on, we're going to see Mommy.”

Your little girl quickly buttoned up her coat and rushed out to the car. During the car ride, Fayza tried to explain to Manon that the hospital room would contain not only her parents, but also her little brother, but she barely paid attention when she sensed that they had arrived at the hospital. Strategically, Fayza quickly sent Ethan to buy a bouquet for you, knowing that when she unbuckled her granddaughter's car seat, she would jump out regardless of whether she was carrying a gift for her mother or not.

So when they asked where the room you were in was, Manon bolted for the lift and led the group as she walked down the corridors of the hospital looking at the different room numbers until she saw it: "Room 350".

She quickly opened the door and, catching a glimpse of your figure, couldn't help but burst into tears as she threw herself onto your hospital gurney, waiting for you to take her in your arms.

"My baby girl," you said as you looked worriedly at your daughter's reaction. You knew that her behavior had nothing to do with how she had been treated at her grandmother's house, where you knew she had been treated like a princess. But even though your maternal instinct had sensed it, you didn't know it was that bad.

Manon's constant crying caused little Jules to burst into tears as she woke him up from his warm sleep, which made your daughter cry even harder.

"Kylian, I think I'm going to go outside with Manon to soothe her. You can stay here while you introduce Jules to your parents," you said, making an effort to get up.

"Honey, you've just given birth. It's not advisable to stand for too long," said Kylian as he stopped you from getting up.

"Well, you're going to explain to me how we reassure our daughter because logically she needs a moment alone," you replied sharply. You hated talking to Kylian like that, but you felt that no one understood how much pain your princess was going through. You knew that with a few sweet lullabies, you could calm Jules down, but your daughter wouldn't be soothed so quickly.

With a short sigh, Kylian exclaimed, "I'm going in the next room with Jules and my family while you try to calm her down, okay? But don't make any sudden moves, please, I beg you. I'll be right back, sweetheart," he said, placing a small kiss on your daughter's head.

When the room fell silent, you couldn't help but ask your daughter why she felt that way and what was going on in her little head. Although many might think it was jealousy, it was quite the opposite. The little girl could not understand that you would not abandon her. So many things were changing in her daily life that she could only expect more changes. When she noticed the absence of both of you, she was frightened. She was used to Kylian's absence, but you had never been gone so long. Even when you were sick, she would lie on your breast while you watched a princess movie and wait for you to recover enough until you had the energy to play again.

After a long time of cuddling and stroking her hair, your little girl managed to calm down, but she stirred restlessly in your arms when she noticed someone opening the door to the room. However, she calmed down again when she noticed it was her father.

"How is my little princess?" exclaimed Kylian before lifting her nimbly into his arms as he gave you a look that begged you to tell him what had happened.

As she gave your daughter little kisses and caresses, you told him what had happened. "She was afraid that we were gone and that we would disappear from her life.

After hearing that, your husband's heart couldn't break more. "My love, that will never happen. Dad and mom love you so much and we will always be by your side. We could never abandon you," he said as he left delicate kisses on her little head.

"You promise?" your daughter asked with teary eyes.

"Of course, sweetheart," he replied.

After an hour of cuddling and enjoying a few moments with your firstborn, you decided it was time for her to meet her baby brother.

"Manon, would you like to meet Jules?" you asked cautiously.

Surprisingly, her reaction was a huge smile as she nodded her head repeatedly. Quickly, Kylian allowed his family back into the room as they relinquished Jules so that Manon could hold him in her arms with the help of her parents.

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian x reader #mbappe imagine #mbappe psg #mbappe x reader

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