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#also youre not bothering me i promise :))
aroaceleovaldez · 4 months
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re: my recent Hazel posting. more of yall have got to start drawing Hazel as fat. make her chubby. make her stout. i can't keep doing this alone.
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tianhai03 · 2 years
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before i go to bed, here’s a couple of colorings C submitted in the past few days!
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patrice-bergerons · 2 years
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Want to write a fic in which Q has a breakdown of a sort and shows up at Bond's door in Jamaica. In years of their acquaintance, he has never asked Bond for anything and Bond owes him this much, he thinks. A break. A break from his life and responsibilities and a chance to collect himself before he becomes a real person again. (That's a decent ex post justification at either rate never mind that in his anguish all he could think to do was to go find Bond.)
And he regrets it immediately the second Bond shows up, tries to leave. But Bond stops him, because he may be too much of a headstrong ass to do anything about it but he has been living in a purgatory of his own making, drifting, and seeing Q here after all these years- it's a reprieve for him as well. Bond knows better than to ask questions too once he ascertains that Q is not there in business.
And the fic is just them spending a week together. A week of sailing and long walks on the beach, lots of sex (naturally), dinners they make followed by drinks in the town. Late night conversations. Do you remember when's. But those carefully steer clear of the old hurts that linger, of the Aston Martin and Madeleine and the zero postcards Bond sent. A question, unvoiced, of what they could have had in a different life. Of regrets that are too late to remedy now.
(OR ARE THEY???)
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serenanymph · 9 months
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Hello, happy STS! If you had to transform your story into a different genre, which one would you pick and what would it look like?
Happy STS! Oh boy you have no idea what you've just set off. Brace yourself avalanche incoming
Okay SO I actually have a looooot of aus for beast because who doesn't like to daydream and write au snippets for their wip to run from their responsibilities. Most of these are specific fandom aus but I have thought about a sci fi au of beast, so, sci fi it is.
This would honestly change a lot of the tone and turn it into kind of a different story, but I do have a lot of fun thinking about how it would work!! In the sci fi au Beasts are a new line of android soldiers Kosei are experimenting with to keep the peace, with a bunch of fancy abilities such as flying!! Or shooting fireballs from their hands!!! It's all smooth sailing until news breaks that some of the androids' codes have malfunctioned, and they've broken out from their facilities. Naturally the government comes out and apologizes, promises they'll get this solved soon, places bounties and creates a special task force to catch them, etc etc.
Anyway, Crys is just a normal mechanic, about as far removed from this situation as any other citizen, up to the point where a boy with metal wings crash lands in his dumpster. He's about to call the hotline and send up an alert to any bounty hunters and authorities nearby - until he notices one teeny tiny problem, which is: the boy is bleeding. Like, real, red, human blood. So oops. Looks like Kosei has been messing around with human experimentation.
Anyway I went a bit insane over this au so have a tiny snippet :D
All in all, Crys’s day goes pretty normally up to the point where the boy with metal wings crash lands into his dumpster. Well, not his dumpster, per se – just the one of the dumpsters behind his apartment, in a narrow alleyway off from the main street. It’s barely wide enough to fit a hoverbike in sideways, and the red-bricked walls are dirtied with soot and grit. The sky overhead is a watery strip of blue, empty of hovercrafts. The few rows of windows looking down on him, all darkened with grime, are closed as usual – trash collection is only once a week, and the fumes are awful. At any rate, he’s lugging a sack of broken parts behind him, holding his breath, when the boy falls out of the sky. It’s fast, and it happens quite literally – there’s a shadow, overhead, the sound of something tearing through the wind, and then a speeding blur slams straight into one of the bins with a thunderous crash. It’s the one for organic waste, which is why there isn’t a sickening crunch of bone against metal, but it still sounds like it hurts. There’s the glint of sunlight against metal, the silent hum of machinery, of gears whirring and clicking. Crys tenses. All he has is a pocketknife. And then – a groan, and a curse. The figure heaves themself over the lip of the dumpster, and Crys thinks, oh. It’s a boy around his age, or at least, he looks like a boy, because there are metal wings on his back. They’re beautiful – sleek and streamlined and gigantic – but also crooked and missing chunks of plating and spitting sparks. Some of the black paint has been scratched off, showing the silver underneath. Crys knows what they’re supposed to look like because he’s been seeing it all over the city, on wanted posters plastered on every street corner and every shop window, in the pamphlets sent out to every citizen in Kosei. Crows are one of the easiest to spot. The boy in front of him is a Beast. Which means he is not a boy at all, but an android. He is also covered in wounds leaking bright red blood. Crys feels the world slip out from under him. “Ah,” the boy says, meeting Crys’s gaze. His hair is a bird’s nest, dark and wild and sticking up every which way. His eyes are the color of obsidian. There’s a weak, wobbling grin on his face, his face pale with blood loss, which shouldn’t be possible. But you don’t have to be a mechanic to know that androids don’t bleed. Which means that, though the boy in front of him is a Beast, he is not an android at all. “Any chance,” the boy manages, “you can pretend you didn’t see me?” There’s a moment’s pause. The world holds its breath. Crys hesitates, hand halfway to his hologlass. The boy topples over the edge of the dumpster and passes out.
beast taglist: @sapphos-scientist @allianaavelinjackson @arctic-oceans @space-writes @reneesbooks
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dwindlinghaze · 4 months
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hii just want to say that im really sorry if the ships are getting shorter :( i'm spending holiday with my family outside the city so i want to engulf that winter season but i also want to write here and fulfil your requests. i'm trying my best to balance out my time on and off my phone so yeahh i will try my best to write them as descriptive as i can !!
the event is still open and don't be afraid to keep sending the asks. i will write it when i have time <3 !!
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orb-the-watchman · 2 years
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To everyone who answered the anonymous opinion things
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Y’all are so nice
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rinnysega · 1 year
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what's floating? :0c
It’s where you shut yourself in a sensory deprivation tank (no lights or sounds) and float in epsom salt for an hour+
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(You strip naked but the example is wearing a bathing suit)
I’ve been doing it for a few years now and it’s helped reduce stress, anxiety, depression etc, and improves sleep and creativity. It’s not a substitute for a therapist but it’s a great pairing to go with it (think of it like a glass of wine paired to a meal). Recently it’s been helping me heal from some mental and emotional trauma by allowing me to focus on myself and meditate with my thoughts with no outside influence or distractions.
It can be scary the first few times but when you let go of your fear and breathe, you really get to know a deep, spiritual side of yourself! And the salt makes your skin feel super soft 🥰
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smiletimeisrunningout · 10 months
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this is your reminder that while I always tell everyone they can drop threads, not continue asks, take their time, and so on, at the moment I'm perfectly okay with everyone continuing as many asks as they want, replying to open starters etc. For now July is productive because I'm supposed to be doing other things!
Next month things may change but as long as we are chill we have nothing to worry about! I have about fifty threads but they don't get replied every day/week so I can still keep adding!
(obviously as long as you are also okay with me dropping threads if needed in the future, August won't be as forgiving)
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stop being mutuals with me if i’m reblogging too much. i am serious. we can still be friends and i’ll still follow you, but i don’t want to be a nuisance to anyone. i do not want to come in the way of your internet enjoyment. if you want me to stop interacting with you entirely, you can either block me or dm me, but i will harbor no bad feelings. do whatever you gotta do. the world is a stressful place and i don’t want to add on to that.
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jvzebel-x · 2 days
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🦋
#sometimes i get really sad about my life you know? like. really sad about it lmao. for various reasons.#like it would be really cool to be normal. very often i just wish i was normal lmao.#but then i remember meeting this guy while i was homeless&he had everything that i late 20s/early 30s college grad would want#stable&well paying job in the field he actually went to college for#rented part of a banging a duplex that had a yard allowed dogs&was a five minute walk from downtown bar crawl area#had both one of my fave motorcycles-- an r6--&one of my all time dream cars-- a 6speed cts-v.#i presume a dating life from the tampons that were in his bathroom.#&yet. he was miserable from what i could tell lmao. &it was weird bc it was like he didnt realize that#until he met us lmao. i would be more annoyed by that. i was v annoyed by it at the time lmao. the amount of weird jealousy i dealt w while#fucking homeless+sick is disgusting&ill never forgive fucking anyone for it&a part of me will always be dead+rotted bc of it lmao.#but for him it was different in the way of. i could kind of understand it lmao.#he had come from a rough background from what i understand&was a success story.#&yet he clearly felt trapped in his own life. clearly felt like he was surrounded by things he should be more grateful for while none of it#filled the hole in him ppl like him are PROMISED success will fill. being apart of the status quo but on the good end will alleviate.#he had been in one accident&never rode his bike again. when i asked why he lied&told me the bike was unrideable bc he didnt know me lmao#&when i asked if there had been any damage past the obvious dent in the gas tank he got red+quiet+changed the topic.#he worked at some big bank&didnt bother trying to brag bc the one thing he DID know about me is that i am v anti bank+leftist lmao.#he considered himself a leftist too until he talked to me&realized he was actually v centrist in basically every view he had#&that centrism came from a desire to keep his privileges as a cis white straight man-- something that made him openly embarassed.#he used to deal thru college&when i met him he couldnt keep up w one round of dabs w me something that also obviously embarassed him.#he had surrounded himself w ppl just like him&was jarred upon meeting anyone outside of that bubble who wasnt a far right asshole.#&he didnt like what he saw about himself. &that was really obvious.#when we left his place after the brief week we were staying there he was literally in tears about how much he wanted to come.#to help&see where we ended up or whatever idk lmao. i guess im still actively annoyed by it lmao.#but i still get it on some level. when you reach the top&realize youre not fucking happy where do you go from there?#will a house do it? will moving to a different location for your same bullshit job do it? will meeting a girl exactly like you do it?#&when i want to be normal so bad it physically hurts i remember him&i think maybe things arent so bad lmao.#like it could be worse i guess lmao.
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tender-rosiey · 5 months
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“GOOD! NOW PUNCH HIS FACE!”
— when your baby and gojo, geto, nanami, toji, and sukuna get protective over you (f!reader)
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a/n: I am alive!! as an apology here is a multi-character post 🙏 btw in toji's part, you're megumi's mom
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GOJO SATORU:
two peas in a pod, twins, copies: these are all things people have called your husband and son.
honestly, they’re not wrong. your son has his father’s looks—satoru swears he has your nose and ears but anyway—and he carries the same protectiveness and love he holds for you, if not amplified.
you can’t count on one hand the amount of times the house has been turned upside down because of their fights for a cuddle session with you.
of course, you have always tried suggesting them simply sharing you, but these problem children would rather eat raw zucchini than ever share the cuddle time.
so while your son is barely six, you can still count on him to team up with satoru against anyone who wrongs you in anyway like what’s happening right now for example.
you’re out with your lovely family to buy some groceries, and since they both were whining about getting some sweets, you allowed them to go and snatch a couple from the next aisle.
on the other hand, you stayed to look for another type of detergent to clean the floor—especially since satoru got this new type of paint for s/n and it’s quite an endeavor to remove it with a regular detergent.
however, being in the cleaning supplies section never guaranteed the lack of filthy men who can’t take no for an answer. this one man approaches you, smug grin on his face as he leans on the wall, “what’s a pretty lady like you doing alone?”
“buying groceries like a normal person; now please leave me alone.”
he quickly frowns, “don’t be so stingy doll,” his hand extends towards your arm, “I can show you a good time; I promise—“
the man is swiftly smacked with an egg on his face, and he is left with the egg dripping down his face, “what’s your wrong with your kid, man?!” he yells at the person behind you.
he then grumbles, “ruined a potential good night.”
“my kid was absolutely right in what he did,” you hear satoru’s voice. you then feel a hand on your shoulder, and you’re pulled into a chest you’re all too familiar with, “’toru—“
your husband shoots a small smile your way, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, before looking at his son, “that last throw was very good, s/n! throw another one but just below his stomach."
a cheshire cat-like grin is plastered on your husband’s face as s/n prepares to launch another egg at the man.
there is a very evident scowl on your son’s face as he yells, “don’t you ever bother mama again, you stinky bum crumb!”
the man gasps and tries to make a run for it, but your son wouldn’t be the son of gojo satoru if he doesn’t manage to land the hit exactly where he wants.
the man quickly crumbles to the ground screaming and alerting literally everyone in the store.
so satoru picks both you and s/n and makes a run for it.
you hold tightly onto him, “wait, ‘toru, the groceries!”
“we can always order! saving my princess and son is more important!”
your son grumbles, “but I want to hit the rude man!”
“me too, champ, but—“ satoru sweat-drops and glances behind him, “I doubt the angry security guards would like that!”
GETO SUGURU:
your twin girls are one of the sassiest to exist.
in a way, they take after their father who is also pretty sassy but very low-key.
the sass of all three combined is terrible to be the victim of. luckily for you, they don’t dare direct their triple ray towards you, especially—in any argument—at least one will try to win you over.
if it’s suguru trying to stay on your good side, then he is hugging you from behind, pressing feather-like kisses on your shoulder and whispering about how sweet you are. if it’s the girls, then they cling to your legs and keep yelling about how much they love you.
so it is safe to say that you have a small squad to protect you from any potential “danger”.
“oh my, dear shouldn’t you focus on refining yourself a bit more?” you hear a woman say beside you.
you turn towards her, offended, “excuse me?”
“I mean,” her eyes scan you, disapprovingly, “you look average at best, and with that you won’t be able to find yourself a husband, let alone have children.”
you’re still processing her audacity as she continues, “but then again, it’s probably for the better that you don’t have children; you can barely take care of yourself.”
“can I help you?” your husband says as he approaches the woman.
she smiles condescendingly before chuckling, “I was simply telling this lady to take care of herself more; she hardly looks presentable.”
geto’s smiles tenses up as he is about to give the woman a calm peace of his mind, but his daughters beat him to it.
your older twin stands in front of the woman, scanning her with pure disgust in her eyes.
she grimaces and voices out her thoughts, “you are like a crunchy lizard.”
the woman gasps, “how dare you—!”
you cut off the woman, curious about your daughter’s conclusion, “why a crunchy lizard, sweetheart?”
your daughter looks at you with a small frown, shaking her head, “a crunchy lizard is an ugly sad lizard.”
a snort escapes your husband, and you’re barely able to contain your smile.
your other daughter follows up, looking at her twin sister, “the lady looks like that one green thingy we saw yesterday,” she taps her little foot, trying to remember and beams at the woman, “shrek! you look like shrek!”
then they both glare at her, frowning, “you’re a monkey!”
your husband doesn’t let it go as he deals the final—subtle—blow, “come on now girls; we shouldn’t bully the lady with the mcdonald’s like hairline anymore.”
it seems like the woman can’t take it anymore as she starts sobbing and running to the hills.
a moment of silence is shared across the four of you, before you carry both of your girls in your arms and start tickling them, “I don’t know whether to be proud of you or scold you, little evil girls!”
they squeal, trying to escape your hold and calling for their father.
geto chuckles and wraps his arms around the three of you, “let them have it for tonight, y/n,” he ruffles their hair, “they were brave and defended their mom, after all.”
“yeah, papa is right!”
“yes mama, please!”
you pout then smirk at geto, “well I don’t mind, and since papa is also very proud of you girls, he will buy any toy that you guys want today!”
the color drains from your husband’s face, and he watches motionlessly as his girls latch onto him, screaming about the toys they want.
you giggle at his expression and blow him a kiss. he reluctantly blows you one back, while the girls excitedly pull him towards the toy store.
NANAMI KENTO:
you and your husband were blessed with the sweetest girl as your daughter, and she was just recently joined by another sweet girl.
you can never forget the happiness on your daughter’s face when she saw her baby sister.
it also seems that no matter how many times you give birth, your husband can’t help but get emotional when he holds your baby. his hands are forever delicate as he cradles her to his chest.
you remember what he said during the birth of your first daughter.
“I feel like a piece of heaven has been plucked and placed in my arms.”
the way he always goes soft for the three of you is honestly adorable.
today, you were going on an outing with your—now 6 months old—baby and your older daughter who is almost six.
your husband never brags about his muscular form, but he never misses a chance to carry the baby or the baby supplies.
you have offered to at least carry the bag, but he always refuses, stating that ‘you already carried the baby for nine entire months in your belly; this is the least I can do.’
so yeah, sometimes you wish to smooch your husband till forever, but that’s not the point.
you’re walking hand in hand with your daughter as she sings her favorite song. you hear someone click their tongue, so you look to the side and lock eyes with an old lady. she takes the opportunity and approaches you.
“you should be ashamed of yourself!” she yells pointing at you, “your husband shouldn’t be carrying the baby supplies nor the baby itself for the matter,” she scowls, “that’s your job!”
“with all due respect ma’am, but that isn’t her job, and taking care of the baby should be something we are both responsible for.”
“yeah!” your daughter huffs, “and don’t take out your sad life on my mama!”
your eyes widen as you stare at your daughter.
on the other side, your husband is just as speechless. your daughter pays no one any mind as she continues, “mama works hard every day! you wouldn’t know that! you immature nugget!”
nanami frowns lightly, “d/n, that’s not nice—“
and for the cherry on top, your baby daughter throws the bottle cap she was playing with at the old lady, and frowns at her.
she starts babbling some nonsense that you're pretty sure are curse words in baby language.
having had enough, the old lady huffs, “the utter disrespect,” and starts walking away.
the rest of the spectators’ eyes follow her till she is out of sight. finally then, people start minding their own business, and you and your little family are left to the aftermath.
you giggle, “that was funny.”
“really?!” your daughter beams.
nanami cuts her off, “no,” he then looks at you with a small frown, a sigh escaping his lips, “y/n don’t encourage them—“
your baby daughter screams happily when she sees her sister smile. she starts kicking her feet with the biggest smile on her own face.
your older daughter starts laughing with her and tries to make her little sister laugh more—she was successful.
meanwhile, you chuckle, leaning on your husband’s shoulder, “admit it, kento; it was kind of funny.”
his resolve softens at the sound of laughter from all three of his girls, “okay, maybe a little, but—“
“yay!!”
ladies: 1
kento: 0
FUSHIGURO TOJI:
your husband and son are so alike, save for the part that your husband is a bit more shameless, and your son is more on the shy side.
however, they both have the same bluntness and the tendency to give anyone who they don’t like attitude.
for example, today, you were walking in the park with the both of them to unwind a bit.
not to mention that megumi wanted to walk his dogs which was a plus, since you would be able to watch your dear son play around with them.
it was all going great until you saw an old ‘friend’ who came running at the sight of you. he was someone who has always been way too touchy and in your personal bubble.
you have tried talking to him about it, but you’re confident that he does it to somehow force you into reciprocating the intimacy.
even if you’re a married woman with a freaking kid.
he giddily clasps your hand, “y/n, ‘been a long time!”
“h-hey,” you smile awkwardly.
he laughs, “I was passing by when I saw your figure, and I couldn’t help but come and say hi.”
you nod, “that’s great, but I am busy, so maybe later?—“
“you’ve gotten even prettier!” he exclaims, “I wish you would finally take me out on a—“
“can’t you see that she is uncomfortable?” your son retorts, “also, you should step back; you shouldn’t touch someone like this without asking them.”
megumi squeezes himself between the both you and glares at the man.
the guy was about to reply to your son, but toji pushes him back with ease, pulling you beside him and hand resting on your waist almost by instinct, “kid is right,” he tilts his head a bit, “ever been taught manners or do I have to do the teaching for you?”
the guy is taken back; offended, he snaps “you can’t speak to me like that!”
“and you can’t hold my mom’s hands like that, but here we are,” your son cleverly sasses him.
on the other hand, your—shameless—husband pulls you into one scandalous kiss and smirks at the guy when he pulls back, “and you can’t hit on a married woman, by the way.”
you hear your son gag in disgust at his dad’s actions, but you’re too busy burying your face in your husband’s chest, hoping that the guy disappears before toji makes even more of a bigger scene.
you also hope that the ground would swallow you, but that’s the alternative option.
the guy clutches his fist, before walking away, spewing insults at the sky—since he is too scared to cuss out your buff husband. once the man is out of sight, toji ruffles megumi’s hair, chuckling, “good job, kid.”
your shy bean’s cheeks redden slightly as he looks away, “…thanks.”
you’re still thinking about what just happened when you slap your husband’s chest, “toji, literally why?” you grumble, patting megumi who started holding onto your leg the moment you hugged toji.
“why not,” your husband shrugs with a small smile, taking pride in your flustered form.
“dad, I want ice cream.”
“no, you just want me to let go your mom, so you can hog her for yourself,” toji grumbles, staring down at megumi.
unfaltering, megumi looks up at him ,“dad, I want ice cream.”
“god damn it, listen here you—“
“divine dogs.”
RYOMEN SUKUNA:
there is no denying that both your son and your husband care for you very much, and they both—very aggressively—compete for your attention.
I am talking he literally throws the kid across the room kind of aggressive, and your son, in turn, throws whatever he has at him.
it’s eventful, but you would be lying if you said that it wasn’t one of the reasons why you will get grey hair earlier than everyone else.
so their very aggressive nature is also shown in their protectiveness over you.
a person doesn’t need to insult or even dare flirt with you for your devil duo to make their life a living hell; your husband and son don’t tolerate someone speaking to you if it causes you to ignore both of them.
for example, this one new servant was clueless to where the broom is, and unluckily for him, he saw you sitting with your husband and son in the gardens. he humbly approached you, “excuse me, m’lady.”
you turn to look at him with a smile, “yes?”
he clears throat, a bit flustered by the attention, “I—I wanted to ask where the—“
“up your ass, you disgusting fiend,” your son sneers followed by his father’s ever-permanent scowl.
“who gave you the permission to come and speak to her so casually?” sukuna presses, and the servant quickly falls to his knees.
“m-my apologies, my lord! I did not mean to disturb you!”
sukuna crosses his arms, “well, you did, and you also disturbed your queen and prince,” his eyes narrow at the servant, “what do you have to say for yourself?”
meanwhile, you’re watching all of that, mouth agape and trying to articulate anything to save the poor guy. you finally find your voice, “sukuna, it’s okay; he didn’t mean—“
your son hugs you tightly and glares at the servant, “to think he would so brazenly speak to you like you’re old friends is terrible, mother.”
you can almost see your son’s cursed energy flaring, and you can spot the small smirk on your husband’s face as he watches his son.
before it escalates any further and you find yet another dead corpse in your palace, you pick up your son, kissing his cheek which makes him flustered and causing him to bury his face in your neck.
you look at the servant, “you’re dismissed, and you can ask the head maid about anything you need, okay?”
“y-yes, m’lady!” he, however, stays glued to the ground, “may I have the permission to lift my head?”
sukuna grunts, “sure.”
“thank you, m’lord,” the servant says, before scurrying towards the gate, having secured his freedom after his little mistake.
or at least, that’s what he thought.
your husband slices his legs off with a flick of a finger, and your son, who has inherited his father’s technique, slices the head off.
and so the body falls to the ground, and the other servants hurriedly start cleaning up the mess.
you frown at your husband, “sukuna! he apologized!”
he rolls his eyes, and pulls you by the waist, “do I look like I care? he shouldn’t have interrupted our time together.”
“aww, you’re jealous!”
“no, I am not—“
“hands off, old man!”
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taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @sonder-paradise @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies@pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @satoryaa @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar @b4nka1 @sad-darksoul @ko-fi-heart @pumpkindudeishere @suyaaachin
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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chastiefoul · 3 months
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love and deepspace men when you (playfully) reject their kiss ft. zayne, xavier, rafayel
fluff, fluff, FLUFF
zayne
his kiss landed on the outer corner of your lips instead as you turned away at the very last second as he leaned in
he just stared at you for a solid five seconds.
“was this because i left you on read this afternoon?” his voice was soft, uncertainty danced across his feature. you just shrugged, turning away from him to hide the smile you’ve been trying really hard to suppress.
he grabbed a hold of your waist first, keeping you in place. he saw the shameless smile on your face, couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle of his own. “should’ve known.”
you laughed, “but you did left me on read, how dare you?” his thumb moved up and down on your side as he made no change on his expression, like doing a gesture he didn’t even realize doing it. “alright then, i apologize for not replying within twenty minutes, since i did give you a call as soon as i was available.”
you put your hands on either side of his cheeks, he leaned into the touch. of course, it didn’t bothered you one bit when he didn’t reply right away since you knew very well how demanding his job was.
you planted a sweet kiss on his lips, you could feel his little smile as you pulled away. “good work today, zayne.”
“hm, then surely you would indulge me more of that for a moment longer?”
xavier
he’s quiet for a moment; he did kiss you, but he didn’t know why you’d turn your head on the last second like that as he kissed you on the cheek instead.
he casted his gaze downwards, looking like a rejected kitten in a pouring rain searching for its owner.
your heart squeezed at the adorable act, lifting his chin with your palm. he tilted his head questioningly, the words was obvious on his face. did i do something wrong today? were you mad?
xavier stared at you as he recalled today’s events, but he reached his wits end pretty fast since he still had no idea why you’d reject his kiss.
you then giggled at his clueless expression, and xavier immediately understood that you’re being playful. he let out a little sigh of relief, embracing you. his neck deep at the crook of your neck, his soft hair tickling you in the best way possible.
“you’re too playful at times,” he mumbled, he looked like he had all the peace in the world. “sorry, will you forgive me?” you ran your fingers through the back of his head. “i’ll forgive  you if you promise not to reject my kiss ever again,” he said.
you laughed, “okay then, if you insist.”
rafayel
oh. he looked so offended beyond belief. you’d think someone had insulted his painting; a product from his passion and effort. but to think it’s just a face he made because you didn’t want him to kiss you.
“i see what this is,” he started, the dramatic side of him just wouldn’t let this slide. you challenged, “yeah? what is it?”
“you tell me. this is just the beginning isn’t it. first you reject my kiss, next thing i know you’d be packing your bags, telling me you’ve fallen out of love.” he crossed his arms in front of his chest, his pout was the most exaggerated as it’s ever been.
you had to hold your laugh so hard, you covered your mouth with your fist. “it was just a kiss rafayel, i wasn’t feeling it.” you replied, trying your best to sound serious.
“wasn’t feeling it?” he gasped, like you just insulted his whole entire bloodline. he put up a palm in front of your face, like refraining you to say more controversial things. he took a deep breath to calm himself, “it’s fine, it’s not like i was eager to kiss you either.” he mumbled like he was talking to himself, although it’s obvious he’s being a little loud on purpose. also, lies. he practically bounced on air when he approached you.
finally a laugh escaped you, rafayel looked at you and he just fumed. “just so you know i expect you to make up for all the emotional distress i just went through.” you laughed a little more as you grabbed a hold of his face. “i would kiss you many times to make it up but i think someone just said he wasn’t really that eager to kiss me?” you raised an eyebrow.
his eyes lit up for a moment at the mention of a kiss, and next second he looked around frantically to make an excuse. “it’s okay i understand, fighting that many wanderers who make a lot of strange screeching noises? it’d disturb your hearing a little. i said i was eager to kiss you.” he smiled, nodding to himself. you laughed once more at his ridiculousness.
“sure, let’s go with that excuse.” you kissed him and when you pulled away he held your head, giving you multiple kisses before he let you go with a grin.
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snoopyearss · 25 days
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When jjk characters call you ‘clingy’
Feat. crybaby-ish!reader
Gojo, geto, toji
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Cw: hurt, guilt, angst (if you squint)
This is inspiration from a mini series i read a few days ago by user @fumekara. It was so good, I love me some angst to hurt/comfort.
But i also wrote this from personal experience too, my bad yall i treat this like my own personal diary
Anyway, enjoy!
Satoru Gojo
He was pissed. He doesn’t typically show it much, but when he does, he gets kind of scary. He’s more quiet, his voice gets deeper, and his whole body language just shifts. So when the higher-ups piss him off after a very long meeting, the last thing he needs is someone to pounce on him. He usually loves it when you greet him at the door when you’re home for work. But today, he just wanted to strip off his clothes and hop into bed.
Gojo huffs as he leaves the elevator of your shared apartment and grabs his keys from his pocket to unlock the door. As he opens the door, he sees you in the kitchen grabbing ingredients for dinner. “Hi baby,” You softly greeted him. “Hey.” was all he said back. It confused you for a second because he’s never greeted you like that before.
“Is everything okay?” You walk up to him to try to kiss him on his cheek. “God- Y/n, please.” He grumbled, walking right past you and placing his briefcase on the table. “I’m just trying to help,” you defended, walking up to take his coat off for him. “At least let me take your coat-” That’s when he snapped. Something he’s never done to you before. “Y/n, I fuckin’ got it! Geez, you’re so fucking clingy!” He aggressively shrugged your hands off his shoulder. It scared you a bit, to see him so angry at you. You were confused, all you wanted to do was make him feel better. Were you really that clingy?
“I-I’m sorry.” your voice came out shaky and defeated. Hearing how small your voice sounded in response to him lashing out made Satoru’s heart shatter into thousands of pieces. He wanted to turn around and apologize, but the words weren’t coming out. By the time he turned to face you, Your back was already facing him, preparing dinner for the both of you as tears rolled down your face.
Suguru Geto
It was 2 weeks after Suguru deflected. 2 weeks since he committed mass murder in that village. 2 weeks since he left Satoru, Shoko, and the others. It was weighing on him and you could tell. Nothing but him, his two adopted girls, a few people who believed in his cause, and you.
You promised him you would go wherever he would go, and he was so grateful for it. He loves you deeply and would do anything for you. But some days just threw everything on him at one time, today was one of those days. Monkeys non-sorcerers begging him to exercise curses left and right, Nanako and Mimiko begging him to take them shopping, missing payments from those begging for his service. It was all too much. And the guilt was eating away at him.
He genuinely wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying and it annoyed him how much talking you were doing in his ear at that moment. You were both sitting outside watching the two girls play in the yard. “Y/n,” He interrupted you. “Don’t you have something better to do than to just bother me?” He sighed sounding so condescending. “What do you mean?”
“Must you always cling to me? Isn’t there something else you can do besides following me everywhere I go, at all times of the day?!” His voice raised a bit as if he was talking to a non-sorcerer. “I didn’t realize I was. I was only trying to tell you about what me and the girls did today,” You defended. “You’re always so busy, I rarely get to see you anymore.”
“Yeah, because you’re always underneath me. Sometimes-” He stopped mid-sentence because of the saddened look on your face. His eyes softened a bit. “Sometimes I just need my space.” He sighed. You only nodded and started to walk back inside. “Ok, I understand.” Your voice cracked. Leaving Suguru alone to think about what he had just said to you. As if he didn’t feel guilt then, he definitely feels guilt now.
Toji Fushiguro
Toji was a bit frustrated today. He was cheated out of his money after doing a side job, the bet he placed on the race he kept constantly telling you about fell through, leaving him with zero, and to top it all off, the child support payment was coming up. You being an empath and knowing your boyfriend so well, you wanted to help him any way you could.
He was sitting in the chair by the island in the kitchen with his fingers combing through his hair. He was on the phone with multiple people at once, trying to solve his money issues. “Shiu, you guaranteed me way more money than this! How am I supposed to cover this months child support with this amount?!” You walked up to where he was, wondering what all the commotion was about. “Baby?” You softly called out. You could hear Shiu on the other line trying to calm him down and explain the situation.
“That sounds like a bunch of bull and you know it Shiu, you better have my money by next week thursday or else I’m taking it myself.” He grumbled and hung up the phone. “Baby,” You gently placed a hand on his broad shoulder.
“What, Y/n.” He sternly said. You merely blinked a few times. “I was just checking to see if you were okay. What’s with the attitude?”
“I’m fuckin’ frustrated okay? Please leave. You aren’t helping right now.” He waved you off.
“I barely did anything, I just wanted to know if you needed help with anything-”
“Jesus, I said enough! I don’t need your help. Fuck, you’re so clingy.” His voice booming caused you to remove your hand from his shoulder in fear. Seeing your reaction caused him to think about what he said and how he said it. The last think he wanted to do was scare you. He wanted you to feel safe around him. But with the way you jumped at how he raised his voice, it saddened him a bit.
“Y/n, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He was cut off by the sound of his child wailing in the background. “I’ll take care of it.” You said in the smallest voice, not even leaving him time to protest against it and apologize.
“Fuck.”
Part 2
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ariaste · 9 months
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The Magic Trick You Didn’t See: Being An Analysis of Good Omens Season 2
(or: Neil Gaiman, Your Brain is Gorgeous But I Have Cracked Your Sneaky Little Code And Have You Dead To Rights*) (*Maybe)
***
Soooooo I just spent the last 48 hours having a BREATHTAKING GALAXY BRAIN EPIPHANY about Good Omens Season 2 and feverishly writing a fuckin16,000 word essay about the incredible magic trick that @neil-gaiman pulled off. 
Yes, it’s long, but I PROMISE your brains will explode. Do you want to know how magic works? Do you want to know what Metatron’s deal is (I’m like 99% sure of this and it’s EXTREMELY FUCKING GOOD)? Do you want to know about the Mystery of the Vanishing Eccles Cakes and the big fat beautiful clue I found in the opening credits? Do you go through the whole inventory of Chekov’s Firearm & Heavy Artillery Discount Warehouse? 
Here is the essay, go read it: https://docs.google.com/document/d/193IXS11XN46lziHRb6eUpM17yK0BQkRqke1Wh64A_e0/ When ur done u can tell me I’m an insane crackpot, and u know what, i won’t even be offended
In case you don’t know whether you want to bother reading the whole enormous thing on google docs, I’ve put the first couple sections of it under the cut. JUST TRUST ME OKAY, HEAR ME OUT, THIS IS VERY EXTREMELY COOL, NEIL IS GOOD AT HIS JOB--
Proem
A dark theater. The rustling of the audience: clothes, breathing, whispers of anticipation. The lights come up. A man enters, stage left. He is a magician—a master magician—and he performs for you a magic trick so good and so subtle... that you don’t even notice you’ve seen it. 
You know there must have been a trick—after all, you came to the theater to see a trick performed, didn’t you? And he claims to be a magician. So there had to be a trick somewhere. There had to be.
But maybe there wasn’t. Maybe there was just a man on a stage, talking to you, telling you a story with a strangely unsatisfying ending you didn’t quite understand. 
I know. This is a weird beginning to an analysis essay. But hear me out, because I have to explain the mechanisms of the stage before I can show you what the trick was, where the trapdoor was hidden, and how Neil Gaiman pulled the whole thing off so gently and elegantly that you didn’t notice a thing. Ready? Here we go.
The Facts As We Know Them
Let us begin by establishing a baseline—some fundamental, logical assumptions that underpin the magic trick. These will seem obvious as soon as I say them, which is precisely the point: They are self-evident, loadbearing foundations for my entire argument, and if I don’t point them out, I’m going to sound like a crackpot conspiracy theorist. (Which! To be fair, I might be. I could easily be wrong about all this—but I don’t think I am.)
Our baseline, loadbearing assumptions that preface my Grand Unified Theory of Season 2: 
1. Neil Gaiman is extremely good at his job.
2. Neil Gaiman loves these characters and wants with all his heart to do them justice; likewise, he has a great deal of respect, love, and admiration for Terry Pratchett and is striving VERY HARD to write the show the way Terry would have been happy with.
3. The devil, as they say, is in the details: Neil Gaiman and the entire Good Omens cast/crew are fully capable of doing extremely subtle detail work, as conclusively proven in Season 1 Ep 6, specifically the whole sequence of the body-swap scenes.
With me so far? Great.
The Elephant In The Room
Season 2 was... odd. It was odd, wasn’t it. This isn’t a matter of whether you loved it or hated it—there was just something odd going on.
I spent the entirety of my first viewing very much enjoying myself and being very happy to be back with these characters and this world, but I was also liveblogging to my groupchat as I went, and a theme soon began emerging:
“Neil, what are you doing? Where are you going with this?” “What in god’s name is going on here? I’m so lost lmao.” “What is going on with the music situation?” “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE NEIL” “zombies, ok, I trust u to pull this all together in the end, Neil, but I still don't know what you're up to” “What is going on LOL” “Incredibly what is going on here” “NEIL! WHAT IS HAPPENING!” “Literally what is happening” “Neil Gaiman why have you constructed a regency au for mystery VIBES reasons” “just????????? lesbians????????? dancing what's HAPPENING. just all the background characters are gay here ok sure sure sure NEIL GAIMAN WHAT IS HAPPENING--” “mmmmmmm neil what u doin”
All these are copied verbatim from my liveblogging, and apparently I am not the only one to have this reaction. And to be clear, I was having a good time! I came out to this theater to see a magic trick, and this Neil Gaiman guy on stage is a master magician—but I didn’t see the trick, even though there must have been a trick. 
At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about the season. I wanted to like it! Indeed, there were many things that I liked about it! But I felt a bit muddled and jumbled up and confused—I felt like there was something I didn’t understand about it, and so I couldn’t yet understand how I felt about it either.
I started chewing on this question in a friend’s DMs: Why is season 2 so fucking odd? What is going on here, Neil? What are you up to? The matter of whether he was up to something was never in question. I knew that he had to be up to something. Writers are always up to something, and as I watched season 2, it was as if I was watching Neil scamper around the room with a mischievous expression as he messed with things here and there and made little tweaks and adjustments to the arrangement of all the Chekov’s guns he’s stockpiling on the mantelpiece. 
You see, Season 2 has some very bad writing in it. HANG ON, DON’T ARGUE WITH ME YET! THIS IS NOT A JUDGMENT CALL!! This is the rug that the trick’s secret mechanism is hidden under!!! This is the hidden mirror that makes the trick work!!!!! This is the trapdoor in the stage!
Yes, of course I will explain myself.
Neil Gaiman is a master magician, but I am a pretty damn good magician myself—I’m a professional fantasy author who has published nine books, and I teach workshops for apprentice writers online and at universities—and if there is one thing I have learned about the process of achieving mastery of your craft, it is this: 
Regardless of what medium they’re working in, the apprentice artist is concerned primarily with achieving realism via an expansion of their control—control of their brush strokes as they paint a photorealistic eye; control of their deck of cards, the mechanisms of their magic tricks, and where the audience’s attention is being directed; control of all the little factors of voice, plot, character, setting, suspense and surprise that go into writing a good story. However, the master artist has achieved that control—so much so that it often looks effortless to an untrained eye—and sometimes the master artist returns to a messy, amateurish style simply because they have control even over this too. 
As an example, consider Picasso and his entire body of work. He begins as an apprentice focused on achieving control, doing portraits of people that look like people—like what we expect a portrait of a person to look like. Then, as he grows in skill and gradually achieves mastery, he pulls away from realism. He develops a style, he experiments with faces that don’t look like any human alive  colored in ways that do not appear in nature. He expands his control. His work becomes abstract. Towards the end of his life, he starts experimenting with what’s called “Naive art”, something that a 5 year old could theoretically draw... but you have to achieve mastery before you can do it on purpose and have it look good. 
On one hand, Neil Gaiman is extremely good at his job. On the other hand, Season 2 has bad writing in it.
What does that tell us?
Well, we know from our Baseline Assumptions that Neil Gaiman is simply too good of a writer to fuck up through garden-variety clumsiness and lack-of-control the way an apprentice writer would. Additionally, he cannot fuck up by accident in this case because I am positive that the man is scrutinizing his work on Good Omens far too closely to let anything slide—for Crowley and Aziraphale’s sakes, for David and Michael’s sakes, and especially for Terry’s sake. The stakes are sky-high, and he cares too much to write a weird, kind of “bad” season by accident.
Which leaves only one option: He did it on purpose.
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(Am I sounding like a crackpot conspiracy theorist? Baby, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. I’m gonna get SO MUCH MORE CRACKPOT.)
If he did it on purpose, then the natural question to ask is: WHY!?!?!??
It’s a great question. Not “Why?” in terms of why he as an individual person with emotions would decide to do that, mind you. More like, “What purpose does this serve for the structure of the narrative?” There is a story he is intending to tell, and out of all the choices he could have possibly made, for some reason this one was necessary and correct in order to achieve that end goal—so what was that reason?
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See? Intentionality. He knows exactly what details he left in, and he did it on purpose. (Editing! It’s important!)
So there has to be a reason. It’s like when a master magician “casually” rubs an itch on his nose—why did he do that? What is he sneakily slipping into his mouth by hiding it under the excuse of this little gesture that does not even register to you as meaningful? (If you haven’t watched enough stage magic to know what I mean, watch this.)
This question is, of course, impossible to simply answer out of thin air without any further evidence. It is a dead end—so we must adjust the question and come at it from a different angle.
The one I settled on when I was chewing on this was: Well, okay, what do I mean when I say “bad writing”? What is it about S2 that makes it feel so goddamn odd?
The Pledge, The Turn, and... The Conspicuous, Expectant Silence
There are three parts to a magic trick: Pledge, Turn, Prestige. 
First, the Pledge: You show the audience something ordinary. Second, the Turn: You make that ordinary thing do something extraordinary, like vanish. Third, the Prestige: You bring the ordinary thing back.
To quote the 2006 film The Prestige just after its explanation of the first two parts: “You want to be fooled. But you wouldn’t clap yet, because making something disappear isn’t enough. You have to bring it back.”
You have to bring it back.
When I teach apprentice writers, I call this a “setup-payoff cycle”. Achieving control and dexterity with this tool is crucial, because the setup-payoff cycle is the engine of the story—it’s what makes the story run. You can have a setup-payoff cycle at any scale—I have read ones that were a single sentence long; I’ve read ones that were two books long. Additionally, all jokes, no matter how long they are, are structured on a setup/payoff cycle. These cycles work precisely the same way a magic trick does:
You set up the audience’s expectations. (Optional but generally considered stylish and elegant: You give those expectations a firm jolt to throw the audience off-balance.) You pay off the audience’s expectations in a way they weren’t expecting, while saying “TA DA!!!!” really loud with your arms flung wide.
Audiences really like this. A setup-payoff cycle executed just right makes the audience’s brains light up like Times Square and hammers on their mental “reward” buttons like nothing else. It’s like you’ve personally handed them a cookie and a gold star. They go wild for this.
Here’s an example of a setup-payoff cycle, though it’s not a perfect one—and you’ve probably heard it before, so you’re not going to be throwing chairs and tearing down the theater from sheer glee:
The Setup: Knock knock. Who’s there? Banana. Banana who? The Jolt: (the joke starts over and repeats several times without reaching the payoff (aka the prestige) while the audience grows more and more annoyed and frustrated about the unfulfilled expectations, until finally...) Knock knock. Who’s there? Orange. Orange who? The Payoff: ORANGE YOU GLAD I DIDN’T SAY BANANA?
Good Omens Season 2 feels so fucking odd because the setup-payoff cycles are incomplete—nearly all of them are, and the ones that do close the loop do so in really weird ways which, as a professional author, make me feel kind of, “Bwuh?????? But where’s my cookie? Excuse me??? Sir???? Neil????? My cookie, tho???”
When I realized this, when I finally put my finger on why the whole season was giving me some uncanny valley heebie-jeebies, a chill ran down my spine. (The rest is here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/193IXS11XN46lziHRb6eUpM17yK0BQkRqke1Wh64A_e0/ I’M GOING TO GO STARE INTO THE ABYSS NOW BYE)
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iicarused · 3 months
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##my wife, my wife, my wife, my wife
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y!vox x ex!reader / alastor x reader also because he stole vox’s bitch if you squint
part ii
synopsis: from this ask / reader is vox’s ex and he’s not too keen of the separation — you were supposed to come back to him! not run around with his rival and get rid of his only access of looking after you (removing any/all electronics from your life)
beware: DARK THEMES / heavy yandere aspects, obsession (vox’s end), territorial aspects, manipulation, implications of a toxic relationship / let me know if i missed anything!
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he’s been watching you. what, did you think you could just leave? no, that will not do for him! you’re his wife, his lover, his other half that he cannot live without! you brought him fame and so much fortune with just your pretty face.
through the camera of your phone, the security cameras that litter hell, he’s been keeping an eye on you. however, you know that.
after a year of maintaining a relationship with one of hells overlords, you finally snapped and broke it off. the press were eating it right up. “y/n, can you tell us why you and vox are no more?” “y/n, who broke it off first?” “y/n, is there a chance you’ll both get together again?” you laughed at the last question
there was only one place in all of hell to hide — a place where no electronic bothered to exist — hazbin hotel
you came tired. hair a mess and a fluffed robe over your shoulders. “i’m begging of you, please take me in, i prefer learning some shit redemption arc than to deal with a crazy ex.” you cried. of course charlie said yes.
since then, vox has been searching for you:
“i swear to FUCK — !! “ vox heaved. when valentino walked in, the tv host seemed to pause on his theatrics. “she couldn’t have gone far.”
“face it, at this rate she’s done with you.” the moth insisted while getting comfortable on the couch.
but those words didn’t sit right with vox. the multiple screens in front of him flicked through different channels, eager just to find a clue of your whereabouts.
to say vox was pissed when finding out where you were was an understatement. a camera zooming in on the sight of you having some fresh air — right outside that stupid hotel
picking at a daisy, someone else came into the frame. alastor knelt to your side with a cup of tea, or so he assumed, sitting down next to you while basking underneath the stars. vox couldn’t hear any audio since the radio demon seemed to mess up the frequency, but he could see that familiar smile that pulled at your lips
you used to smile at him just like that
in less than a day, vox came straight to the hotel. demanding for you to come out. come on home! you both can work through it! this is just another bump in the road, there’s no need to hide!
from the balcony, your gaze settles on vox down below. you almost feel sorrowful and your heart begins to ache. sometimes you miss him, and sometimes you miss the comfort of his arms. he was a hurricane just as he was a summers day, and that was the man you fell in love with. you knew his love was sick, but that was expected from demons… right? not his though, it was far too gone to be considered a daydream.
“doll, we were meant to be!” vox pleaded, his gaze never leaving yours.
you never answered to his pleas.
“it’s that fucking radio demon, right!?” vox accused. here comes a tantrum.
you turned to face away.
“please, we were going to be overlords — together!” back to broken promises you were unsure if it were true.
a yandere is someone who is in love with you, and that’s a dream come true for anyone who wishes for love. but god, do you wish it wasn’t you.
vox never stopped sending gifts to the hotel after that. nor has he stopped coming by to the building just to try and convince you to leave. his heart is aching, and only you are his medicine.
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touchlikethesun · 1 year
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it is so important to have friends that let you bitch about things, because to my core i am a hater, but i also don't want to actually be mean. so i have gcs. where i can be mean. in private.
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