#being things. like how does that help when you just spread the supposed pain.... not to mention it was more of a seed you planted

[edenfenixblogs]

I don’t think most non-Jews understand how disappointed we are in the left right now. How completely abandoned we’ve become. How our contributions to progress for other groups have been erased or disavowed or hidden. How the actual tangible things that Jews have contributed to black rights and civil rights are being ignored. How we’re being told we contribute and have contributed nothing.

How we are being told that the world has been kind to us when it never has. As if my mom didn’t grow up getting called a Kike and getting beat up for being Jewish. How I thought I had friends until I caught them saying “xyz was beautiful until Jews showed up.” How people told me I was pretty “for a Jew.” How I grew up hearing stories about bombs being set off in Israel in buses and markets. How I couldn’t even go two weeks without hearing that and how nobody cared and somehow, every time that happened, the whole world became more hostile to me for some reason.

I just don’t understand. I don’t understand what leftists are doing. Or why. I hate that I have to say—of course, I support a free and self determined Palestine (which I truly do)—in order for you to decide I’m worthy of care and support.

We showed up for you. All of you. And the entire movement is abandoning us at best or targeting us at worst. Celebrating our deaths. Saying we deserved it. How are we supposed to trust you ever again? How are we supposed to feel safe ever again?

A very few select people who are in my life have taken the chance to actually learn about and dismantle their own unconscious antisemitism during this time. And I’m eternally grateful for them. But most people haven’t reached out at all. Most people are still sharing hateful things that could get me hurt and they don’t care. Most people Reblogging my posts are still Jews. Because we are alone. And it sucks. You need to be as loud about antisemitism as you are about Palestine or you’re an antisemite (unless you’re Arab/Muslim/Palestinian—I totally get that these groups are also doing damage control in their own communities just like Jews are).

But we are all in tremendous pain right now.

This moment will pass. And when it does, I will remember how many people let me down. I will remember that when I needed support more than I’ve ever needed it in my life, people fucking vanished. They pretended violence against my people wasn’t happening. They ignored and rewrote the history of Israel to suit their own narratives.

You don’t know what it feels like to be hated this much for opposite things. PoC hate us for being too white. White supremacists hate us for not being white enough. Europeans hate us for being middle eastern. Middle easterners hate us for being western/European. Everyone hates us for being settlers but continually kicks us out of their countries so that we have to settle somewhere else.

I saw a post going around from a Black person who said that the reason he and his fellow black activists go protest for Palestinians instead of fighting antisemitism (as if it’s a binary, which it’s not) is that Jews don’t show up. Muslims and Palestinians do. And honestly? Fuck that guy. Heather Heyer died standing shoulder to shoulder against racism in 2017. [CORRECTION: When I first wrote this post I was under the impression that Heather Heyer was Jewish. I want to correct to avoid spreading misinfo. She was just the first (and incorrect) Jewish civil rights activist I thought of. However there are plenty of other actual Jewish civil rights activists to choose from. If you have reblogged this post from me, please feel free to add a link to the permalink version of this post with my correction to your reblog.]I have devoted substantial time and effort and money that I don’t even get paid a lot of because I don’t get paid a living wage. I have continually reached out to PoC people in my life of all religions to ask how they are doing and what I could be doing to help more—both for them personally and how they would best like me to help their community. I have elevated their voices at every opportunity. And not one person I checked in with has done the same for me or for my community.

And it’s bone chilling. It’s awful. And it’s even worse knowing that when it’s over, people will want to go back to normal. They won’t apologize. They won’t self reflect. They’ll just live their lives, maybe a little more aware of how much they hate us and completely indifferent to the harm they’ve caused us. How disposable they made us feel. And the thing is…it’s not hard for you to know. You just have to ask.

Too many people are cowards. Too many people care about looking good than actually learning something or making the world better. And to those people: you should be ashamed of yourself.

I don’t have any hate in my heart. Truly. Not a drop for any group of people. But I have a tremendous lack of trust that anyone would actually lift a finger to keep me safe.

#antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #anti zionisim #I dare a goy to republic this challenge #goyim ID yourself in the tags if you reblog this #cuz i straight up don’t believe goyisch activists give a shit unless they straight up say they do #i’m not okay #honestly #this is the Nazi stuff I am most scared of #sure the Nazis rounded us up #but you fuckers were the ones who watched and did nothing #you’re the ones who voted the Nazis in #you’re the ones who didn’t stop them #fuck all y’all for real #i/p #israel #palestine #correction issued

[fatuismooches]

Hello! I’d like to make another request if possible. I really loved how you did the Harbingers taking care of their sick s/o headcanons. Can I have headcanons with all the Harbingers comforting their s/o when they are crying? I know Pulcinella is supposed to be platonic, so maybe he can go into doting grandpa mode.

♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 ♡

synopsis: When you're crying and upset, the first person you go to is none other than the one you love most. And of course, they never fail to deliver their love for you.

includes: all harbingers (platonic pulcinella) w/ gn! reader

notes: Ah yes, hurt and comfort, my favorite trope. I hope this makes everyone feel slightly better, whether you're having a good or bad day, you got this! <3

Disclaimer: Just so I don’t get repetitive, I just want to say that if another person made you cry, all of the Harbingers would have no problems doing some really… bad things to them. Since that’s out of the way, let’s continue.

Pierro:

Pierro would spend a normal day with you. You may ask why this is so special, but being the lover of the First Harbinger, who carries heavy burdens from Khaenri’ah, means you often don’t have “normal” days together. But when you’re this sad and crying, he has to make an exception. He would let himself sleep in with you, hold you close to him as you tell him everything and anything that’s been bothering you. (Despite his responsibilities, he still yearns to be updated on your life.) Pierro carries you to the bath and the two of you spend some time enjoying each other’s presence. He helps to dress you, and he cooks breakfast himself, which is eaten in peaceful silence. A long walk is taken through Snezhnaya and he lets you cling to his arm, despite the occasional looks of the other Fatui grunts. The two of you would walk through the forests and snow, and the town and markets of the frozen country. This kind of stuff might seem so bare and boring to outsiders, but you know that his time is the most precious gift you can receive from him, and you would want nothing else for comfort.

Capitano:

The one who is sincerely trying his best out of everyone and trying every method possible to cheer you up. Drops anything that he’s doing and while Capitano isn’t sure what to do, he knows his chest hurts more terribly than any battle wound when you’re sad. He is very protective of you, and wants nothing more than to destroy anything that’s causing you pain. And so, he thinks about what you do whenever you think he’s sad, and decides to spread his arms out to the side like you do when you want a hug. And of course you take the bait and practically launch yourself at him, but he catches you with ease. (When you teach this man how to hug and hold you properly, it is HEAVENLY. No better feeling than Capitano holding you snug on his lap with one arm while the other does whatever else he needs to do. Him one handedly holding you to his chest while the other is swinging a greatsword battling people. Yup.)

Tries every domestic thing in the book you gave him a while ago but kind of fails. When he cooks he chops up the ingredients disproportionately. When he picks flowers himself for you, the stems are half broken because he squeezed them too hard. When he reads stories to you and tries to give the characters different voices for you, you start laughing so hard your head hurts again. Capitano starts to feel bad, that your lover is someone whose only great strength is battle and leading others into war. But when all you do is smile at him and thank him, tugging on his arm to lay down with you, he can’t help but feel like he’s becoming more worthy of you.

Columbina:

The first thing is does is pull you into her lap and strokes your gently, humming a soft lullaby over your sniffles, in an effort to help you take a nap. Columbina knows you must be exhausted from so many tears, so she wants you to rest and just take a break from everything. She’ll be by your side the entire time. Also, any song requests are available for her during this time. She would sing for you however long you want even if her voice goes hoarse.

I don’t know why but I feel like she likes fluffy/soft and silky things. So the two of you would definitely be wrapped up in the softest blankets and pillows, even some plushies here and there. Columbina tends to place her head on the crook of your neck and just kiss the tears away (lots of back hugs.) Her words are quiet and soft-spoken but you can clearly hear them when she’s so close to your ear. Also, lots of looking up new hair styles so you can do whatever you want with her hair.

Dottore:

That ever-present smirk of his fades a bit when he sees you cry. Out of everyone, he is the most dumb-founded, because the emotion is not very familiar to him, and since he’s never seen you like this before, he has no data or experiences to help him know what to do. Yes, he had seen people cry before… cry in fear when they saw him. So he just stands there and lets you cry into his chest, a vial of unknown liquid in one hand while the other one is placed very hesitantly and awkwardly on the top of your head. 

If this was anyone else, he would laugh in their face about their problems, but when it comes to you? You got his utmost attention. When Dottore comforts you, he first follows the very basics of comforting - just listening to what you have to say. He had grown accustomed to your physical touch, and in fact, secretly welcomed it since it made you feel better. Dottore is more of a logical person rather than an emotional one, so he won’t baby you or use too many honeyed words. Instead, he’d use more facts, solutions, and things you haven’t thought of before. The most verbal affection you’ll get is something along the lines of not letting fools rile you up, that you’re his partner for a reason (but that’s a lot coming from Dottore.) Makes it a mental note to make a clone follow you around from now on so your day would go more smoothly. Also the kind of guy to make his clones play card/board games with you and let you win on purpose. Would make you a hot cup of tea, his coat draped over you, while you watch him go about his experiments and such. Also the guy who would simultaneously be down to help you get revenge on anyone if you wished.

Pulcinella:

The grandpa who takes one look at you and beckons you to follow him for some tea and sweets. Makes you sit down next to him and lets you cry to your heart’s content. Depending on your personality, he already has a hundred ways to make you feel better. (After all, I headcanon that the Harbingers tend to rant to him about anything and he gives them advice/consolation. Papanella’s hugs are really nice, to be honest, it feels like you’re really hugging someone who cares about you.) This might be random - but you know those memes where grandparents always make you lots of food when you go over to their house? Well… that’s Pulcinella since I think that it would be cute.

He would distract you from whatever’s bothering you with a new story of course. Somehow, no matter how many times he tells you stories, he always has a new one. He’s also the one who would also gently urge you to confront your problems. Nonetheless, he’s very comforting and if you asked him he’d help you with whatever you’re dealing with. Pulcinella also forces the other Harbingers to cheer you up too.

Scaramouche:

Who does he have to kill? Pretty much the first thing that goes through Scaramouche’s mind when he sees tears roll down your face. If you reassure that this is not the case, he is not sure what to do afterwards. Whenever Kunikuzushi showed emotions, he was seen as week, vulnerable and received no comfort, so he kept it inside him. So now when he sees you crying so freely in front of him, he doesn’t know what to do. At first he is gruff in his words, telling you simply not to cry, that you don’t need to worry over dumb things when you have him, but of course this does not do much to relieve you of your sadness. So he sighs and places his hat on you since Scaramouche knows how much you like it.

A habit I think he picked up from when he was Kunikuzushi, is that he went to different scenic places to just pass the time and escape from sheer loneliness. He would tentatively hold your hand and lead you to one of these places nearby, and just sit with you. He wouldn’t say anything much because he didn’t want to say anything he didn’t mean to. And the two of you would just watch the sun turn into the moon. The golden sky transform into a starry night. Scaramouche would wordlessly keep an arm around you. Your life was too short to be sad, anyway.

Arlecchino:

Yet another Harbinger who has no experience comforting someone who they actually care about. But that cold mask of her breaks for a split second when she sees you cry.  Every time one of the orphans cried, she kind of just looked at them and ordered another Fatui agent to take care of them. Physical nor verbal affection are her forte, so Arlecchino would rather show you how much she cares. She’d carry you to her shared room with you, lay you down and pull up the blankets. She’d move her office temporarily into the room so she could still work but in actuality she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, holding your hand while you tell her what happened. Arlecchino spoon feeds you, wipes any crumbs away with a tissue. When you fall asleep, she very carefully holds you to her chest and whispers words of love you’ll be hard-pressed to hear while you’re conscious.

La Signora:

It is a bit melancholic for La Signora - she never had the chance to wipe away her past lover’s tears, but now that she has the ability to finally do so for you, she feels a sense of bittersweetness. But she is very confident in herself, and she would like you to feel the same, so she would not hesitant with her honeyed verbal affirmation. She traces over every inch of your body, pointing out all the perfections and beauty she sees within you. She tells you how lucky she is to have someone like you in her life, after everything she’s been through. Rosalyne hums an old Mondstadt song and asks you mundane questions (Do these shoes match this hairpiece? Does this color go with that one?) Has her moths perch on your shoulder and smother you with warmth.

Pantalone:

Oh boy, he is just so sweet <3. Pantalone’s hugs are definitely the warmest; you feel bundled up not only in his fluffy coat but also in his genuine comfort and care for you, black locks tickling your cheek. He’s another one who's keen on pampering you, only that he can do it more easily. He has access to all the funding and bank reserves. Nothing is unattainable. And his workload is different from the other Harbingers - he can sit you on his lap, listening to your woes and worries while repeatedly signing his signature on documents for the whole day. When it comes to you, Pantalone has a great amount of patience. He has all the tissues ready for you and will hold onto every word you utter, so he can refute it later.

I think that he is big on self-care, especially for you, so when you’re upset he just wants to help you look and feel amazing again while murmuring words of consolation and love. This means that he will adoringly wash and comb your hair while carefully listening to anything you have to say, whether it’s a loud rant or hushed words of sadness. Helps you slip into the comfiest night clothes. Reads you any story you desire in that velvety voice of his. Is very fond of calling you a variety of pet names, like “my love” or “darling”, anything romantic really. Pantalone really hates seeing you cry. It’s one of the only times you would see him without a smile and a creased forehead.

Sandrone:

When Sandrone sees you crying, a burst of… unfamiliar emotion she rarely feels erupts in her chest, completely contrary to what she usually feels after working with puppets all day. Why? She was worried. How? She was upset. Who? She was angry that she couldn’t protect you. Her Automation quickly scoops you up and places you on her lap, letting you curl into your lover’s chest. Swiftly moves you to her private room and lets you cry into her shoulder for as long as you want, silently rubbing your back. (Many wonder if Sandrone’s feet ever touch the floor, always perched atop her robot’s hand. If only they could see how tender she was with you.)

She is intelligent in the most complex engineering, but when it comes to properly comforting you, she is at a loss. But she really does try her best. I feel as though she would implement nondeadly and rather cute features in her robots just to make you smile. (Pull the robot’s finger and a bouquet of flowers comes out! It tips its hat at you and some confetti comes out!) Sandrone would take you out for some fresh air to clear your head. Also provides quality entertainment. What is it, you ask? If you find watching her prototype model Automatons fight to the death, then you’ll surely have a joyous time. (You can’t help but laugh regardless. I’m now thinking about you placing bets on which robot wins with the other Fatui, but you always win because your lover tells you who's going to win before…)

Childe:

Childe would immediately pull you into his tight embrace, with no hesitation. He’s used to the sniveling and tears of his younger siblings, so as soon as he sees your crumpled face he knows exactly what to do. No matter how much you wet his clothes, Childe won’t let you go until you ask him to. He amps the pampering up to the maximum. Blanket cocoons/burritos are an absolute must. He cooks food himself so you could have the warm feeling of home cooking surrounding you. He would literally do all of the household tasks, not allowing you to lift a finger. He’d want to help bathe you, wash your hair, scrape away the grime from the day, gently worship your body by pressing affirmative kisses, and tell you how amazing you are, and how much you mean to him.

Childe is a really good listener and takes what you say very seriously if you’re willing to tell him. If it is a problem he can fix, you can bet he’s going to have some agents solve it, and even take care of it himself if anything. If you want to stay silent, he won’t pressure you, but his touch lets you know that he’s always here for you. Honestly, he probably spoils you more intensely for a few days because he knows that when you cry, you don’t magically wake up the next day fine again. Without fail, Childe would ask you how you’re feeling, monitoring your emotions and feelings. When you’re sad, he is too. How can he ever focus when his love is hurting? Also takes advantage of all possible cuddling positions.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #fatui x reader #capitano x reader #dottore x reader #scaramouche x reader #pantalone x reader #pierro x reader #childe x reader #columbina x reader #arlecchino x reader #la signora x reader #sandrone x reader #il dottore x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui harbingers #capitano genshin #genshin dottore

[adaines-furious-feast]

You're a cat, just helping your wizard goddess do her spells and help her followers as they deal with the mysteries of night. Everything's cool.

Your wizard goddess starts to panic because for some reason her followers want to destroy her. They don't seem to realise what they're doing. You try to come up with ideas for how to warn them how terrible this is but every idea you come up with doesn't work. She's terrified. You're terrified. You're a clever cat but you're maybe too little for this.

You try to help. Your goddess needs to change you. You become something else. You're powerful. She puts as much of her power into you as she can because you've got to survive to keep her alive. But after the transformations you realise she's not the same as before. You're not the same as before. But she's still your master and now you've got a new task.

So you go about that task, spreading across Fallinel and those twisted elves that took away your life. You find the powerful ones, seep into their bloodstream, look through their eyes. But your words are the most powerful tool you have. They poisoned the weak minds of the old followers so now you poison theirs. You find one oh so willing to do anything, absolutely anything, for power. She's perfect.

People try to stop you. Try to stop you bringing back your master. But it's no problem. They're kids. You've manipulated the minds and hearts of more powerful people than this. Or so you think. They're set on destroying everything you've worked for, everything your goddess did to protect herself. And no matter what you do, there's something that keeps them going. They go through betrayal, heartbreak, their worst fears. They might destroy what's left of your goddess but they're going to destroy their own minds in the process, you'll make sure of it.

Then, at the last moment, one does the one thing you could never do. She heals the goddess. She restores her, gives her a name, gives her a follower. You're gone, nothing but a terrible memory. And not only did you fail your mission, but the person you did everything for doesn't want what you were doing. They needed something you could never do, and now she has this new follower. But you love her, and maybe they're better off now. You feel betrayed, but happy for her.

Months of nothingness pass, and then you're brought back. Your goddess, the most wonderful person you've ever known, is in distress. The person who gave her hope, the person who was supposed to help and support her, the person who took her away from you has failed. She's terrified of death, terrified of ending up like Yes? or worse. As she was before. And maybe you're part to blame for this failing. Because you broke this child who your goddess now relies on.

So you're going to help. You're going to do what you've always done. You're her familiar and through betrayal after betrayal you've stood by her, even when she's changed.

And then something happens. Something undescribable. You shout a clue to one of the kids. They figured it out before, they'll do it again. And in the moment before you turn, you think of what you did to one of the hirelings. Think of how you took over her mind, made her tell her daughter that she wasn't being forced to cause her pain. And even though the daughter knew it was a lie, there was a look of pain in her eye. Pain at the betrayal. And now you know.

You, the last person who has never betrayed your goddess, slit her throat. And even though you know she might know its not you, you know she's feeling the hurt of betrayal all over again.

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high spoilers #sorry for spelling mistakes

[lizaluvsthis]

NEW EPISODE NEW EPISODE NEW EPISODE

Hello hello and welcome everyone... AGAIN TO MY HYPER FIXATION.

We are introduced to SMG4 NEWS.

Now you may be wondering, why is SMG3 part of this? Why is he right beside SMG4 while they're currently broadcasting this live? Well I tell you two reasons.

no. 1 he wanted to help and no. 2 he just wanted to advertise his cafe.

Thats why you notice in several clips of the video, he tries his best to insert his advertisement to go to his cafe shop.

If SMG3 was careful enough, he'd be listening to SMG4 since he kept telling SMG3 not to advertise.

Over with SMG3's bugging and ruining SMG4's set with the weather, SMG4 ties SMG3 around the chair so that he wouldn't be a bother to interrupt the broadcast.

Thats why SMG4 turned his back to check up on SMG3, because he knows three is so desperate to pull up that advertisement. He didn't allow three to make that advertisement because they were only both there to "REPORT" live on 'News'

Since Three couldn't advertise, he may had switched on to another topic. "Is SMG4 really funny?" Since he is already fed up with all of the meme contents SMG4 make, he still thought if it'd be cringe.

But since SMG4 didn't want his content creations to get abandoned by his own fans just by SMG3 "TRYING" to change everyone's minds and opinions to 'stop' watching SMG4 just because the FUNNY wouldn't be there.

With SMG3 right beside SMG4, he'd been a little bit upset about this. "Atleast he's capable of making jokes" SMG4 looks at SMG3.

With that reminds him, why is SMG3 here? Oh right- he WAS supposed to help SMG4 report this on live. Where he reminded that SMG3 is supposed to be helping, which maybe had brought up his vision that-

"why am I being an ass? I was suppose to advertise, and SMG4 is here already. So why does it matter? I should've been helping him not steal the broadcast again."

So he said "fine" so he finally got able to report something, which is already counted as BORING to him. When SMG3 thought it was unfair since SMG4 gets all the bad news, SMG3 WANTS those kind of things to spill.

(I may had thought when SMG3 said "I want those" SMG4 quickly said "Okay-" to where he struggles to find a right file for SMG3 to report it out on live.)

It's like a kind of- well- a wife being spoiled and rich, while the husband gives everything to his wife because she kept out yelling for "wants" since the husband wants to do and follow what the wife does in order not to get constantly yelled at again.

And that is technically what SMG4 is doing for SMG3's sake rn.

But since SMG3 wants to add up a spice from all the boring sh-t, he decides to pull out his aka "pain and suffering method" to where it leads to him spreading misinformation that pulls out a fake news.

(I just love how SMG3 teased SMG4 with the word "Opposite day" XDD)

-

And that calls for *GETS RUN OVER*

OKAY FINEEEE!!! Jeeezuz...

Ahemm- this month is absolutely interesting- (despite my posts of "Indigo Secret"'s pages are not here yet from mind block, but since Valentines day is near- I'll be advertising...)

@merp0515 's Do This In Your Style - Challenge!

You guys are free to draw the boys by using Merp's valentines design for SMG3 and SMG4!

I'm not forcing anyone here if they don't no wanna, I'm 'advertising' to recommend you guys to do some fine of a work with the design :D

I do love how they both look in thems stunnishin outfits and I can't wait to draw more of them in those attire because things get a little bit of spicy... ykwim? :)

Anyway- this challenge is done for funziez I already am participating this- (merp. I'll shove these whole artworks I made to yo eyes...) MWAHAHAHA cant wait to see your reaction in valentines day >u<

#smg4 #smg34 #smg3 #smg4 smg3 #lizafixates

[edosianorchids901]

Visionary

Ace Omens Hugfest 2024 prompt - "the first hug"

Before the Beginning

Brilliant flashes of light zoomed past, really quite striking even if somewhat alarming. Aziraphale rather suspected that being hit by the celestial matter would be uncomfortable, at the least. He’d heard rumors of punishments in Heaven, for angels who disobeyed. It was said to be “painful.”

Aziraphale had never experienced pain, and he didn’t experience it in the current firestorm, either. A beautiful white wing remained above his head, spread wide to shield him from both little sparks and  simmering fireballs.

“Does that hurt?” he finally asked. “The… flaming bits hitting your wing?”

“Hmm?” The red-headed starmaker glanced to him, then smiled and shrugged. “Nah. I mean, a little. But it’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not?” Aziraphale peeked out at the last few bits of the apparently painful shower. “It looks like it ought to be a big deal. It’s all, you know. Flaming.”

“Er, yeah, it’s definitely flaming. Just stings a bit, though, that’s all.” The starmaker let out a snorting gust of laughter. “Now, the time I accidentally set off a supernova in the lab? That hurt.”

Aziraphale looked at him in alarm. “What’s a supernova?”

“Oh yeah. I get so wrapped up in all this that I forget not everyone knows about it yet. Um.” A little frown tugged at the starmaker’s face. Then he brightened, pointing to a big blue star. “It’s when one of those beauties blows up.  It’s not very fun from up close, I don’t recommend it.”

“Um. Yes, well.” Aziraphale fidgeted as he looked at the star. “I-I’m working with the people, you see. I don’t think they explode.”

“Well, for my money, you can make anything explode.” Another burst of laughter erupted from the starmaker, and Aziraphale couldn’t help but laugh too. His excitement was quite catching. “What do humans do, if they don’t explode? Anything interesting?”

“Oh, um. Lots of things!” Aziraphale tried to think of something. “Oh yes, they hug! Or-or-or, they will hug, rather. We don’t actually have a working model yet, and we’d need two of them to test it.”

“Huh. Sounds…” The starmaker’s brow furrowed. “Sounds… What’s a hug?”

“Ah. Well. It’s when the humans put their arms out like this—” Aziraphale demonstrated, “—and then they wrap the arms around another person and squeeze.”

The starmaker frowned. “Why?”

“I-I don’t really know.” Aziraphale gazed at the beauty that the other angel had created, and felt a bit silly. “I just… thought it looked like a nice thing for them to do.”

“You invented it, then?”

Aziraphale ducked his head. “Well, it’s all part of the Great Plan, of course. Everything we do. But yes. It looks like it would feel so wonderful, doesn’t it? If someone was hugging you, you could never be lonely.”

Oh dear, he shouldn’t have said that. Angels certainly weren’t supposed to be lonely. It wasn’t a concept he felt like explaining, either.

“Ohh. Okay. I get it now.” The starmaker nodded, expression contemplative. Then, quite suddenly, he opened his arms. “Here, I’ll help you test it.”

Aziraphale gaped at him. “You will?”

“Yeah, sure! You need two people, eh? And since you don’t have any humans yet…” Shrugging, the starmaker beckoned. “C’mon. You helped me, I’ll help you. Makes sense, right?”

“I suppose it does.” Although Aziraphale wasn’t entirely sure that angels were supposed to hug. He certainly never would have dreamed of trying it with one of the others that he worked with. Or even worse, with an Archangel. He would have been far, far too intimidated.

But this angel beside him was kind, his expression still cheerful and curious and full of zest. He’d offered Aziraphale shelter, not wanting him to feel even the slightest bit of pain. And Aziraphale found himself not the slightest bit intimidated. Eager, even.

He propelled himself over with a light flap of wings, and the starmaker grinned. “Right. So, you’re the expert. How do we do this?”

“Oh, um. You put your arms around my waist, and I’ll sort of just…” Now a tiny bit nervous again—especially since no one had ever referred to him as an “expert” at anything, or even seemed to think he was competent—Aziraphale reached out. He carefully rested one hand on the other angel’s shoulder, guiding him in, and settled the other on his waist.

Slender arms curled around him, and Aziraphale closed his eyes reflexively at the pleasure of being touched. He smiled as he sank into the careful embrace.

Oh, goodness. Yes, he’d been quite right. One could never be lonely while being hugged.

“Gosh.” The starmaker squeezed him tightly, then stepped back. “Good job. That’s a terrific invention.”

“Oh!” The kind words made Aziraphale nearly lightheaded, and he clutched his hands together. “Do you really think so?”

“Yup. Look, I’ve gotta run. Loads more work to do. Black holes to develop, neutron stars to smash together, radiation to tweak. That area needs more glow.” The starmaker pointed to an area that looked as if it was already glowing quite nicely. “See you around!”

With a powerful flap of the wings, the starmaker took off. He waved, and Aziraphale waved back.

Feeling quite more peaceful than he had in some time—as peaceful as an angel ought to feel—Aziraphale hovered and watched the beautiful nebula for a bit longer. Then, reinvigorated, he set off to continue developing his new invention of hugs.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #art #ace omens hugfest 2024

[peterman-spideyparker]

Milk (Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Well, everyone, I don’t know how I got this idea, but I got it when I was on a work trip in Dallas and I wrote this when I had some time to breathe while I was down there. I’m not doing Kinktober (and I know that’s there’s a different prompt list for what it’s supposed to be each day, I think) but this was very kinky and, well, I felt it needed to be shared. Also, Matt gives of big dad vibes in this flannel, and it just had to be done, my friends. Enjoy! :)

Summary: After basking in the glow, ups, and downs of new parenthood, Matt attends to his partner in an effort to relief some of their pain.

Warnings: Fluff (Matt and Reader being all cute and happy saps and new parents), postpartum feelings (nothing negative, acknowledgement of mood swings/being tired, what the taco feels like after vaginal birth, sore boobs - *disclaimer: I have never been pregnant*), smut (Matt and Reader being horny for one another, mommy/daddy kink, milking kink, praise kink, blowjob)

Other Characters: None 

Word Count: 1,799

Matt hasn’t stopped smiling for six days. 

“I can believe we made her,” he whispers into your hair before kissing your temple. “She’s absolutely perfect.”

“You can say that again,” you giggle. “No lie, I’ve never seen a cuter baby. The nurse agreed.”

“I know—she told me. Actually, what she really said was ‘I haven’t seen a baby come out looking that good in three years. Trust me, honey, I’d tell you if your baby was ugly.’”

You can help but smile and turn your body into Matt’s. “Yeah, she isn’t wrinkly at all.”

“How’s my other non-wrinkly cutie doing?” he hums, kissing the top of your head. If he thought he loved you before, this proved how much more he was infatuated with you—how you choose him every time and give him the best things in his life. 

“I’m okay,” you admit. “It’s just weird, all the mood swings I’m going through and the hormones. And then there’s the frozen diapers I have to wear, and I can’t get used to how sore my boobs are.”

“It hurts that bad when she nurses, huh?”

“Well, yeah, but she’s being fed and happy, so I can’t complain too much, can it? And I mean, pumping isn’t a joyride either. It just keeps coming! They’re heavy all the time.”

“I’m sorry, angel,” he hums kisses pressing down from you cheek to the column of your neck. 

“Matt, the rule is no sex for six weeks, not six days,” you breathe, feeling goosebumps all over your skin, not wanting him to stop.

“I know, sweetheart. I just want to kiss my wife, that’s all. She did just give me the best, most precious gift in the world, after all.”

“Hm, Matthew Michael Murdock: Corniest and Hornist in all of Hell’s Kitchen,” you smile, cradling the side of his face and bringing his lips up to yours to kiss. 

“Alliteration and rhyme?”

“You presented it on a silver platter, baby.”

Matt takes your hands in his, moving your bodies away from the bassinet and into your room, letting his kisses roam all over from your lips to your chest. He pulls up your shirt and unlatches your bra, sliding the fabric down your arms and off your body, pressing kisses to your sternum that have you sit down on the mattress and lean back. 

“Matt—.”

“Let me help,” he breathes as he kisses over the swollen breast. “Which hurts more—this one or the other?”

“This one,” you concede, knowing Matt won’t take no for an answer on this. 

Like he has done many times before, he captures your nipple with his lips, sucking at the flesh. It doesn’t hurt in the same way that it does when your baby feeds, but the sheer over-use of your breasts creates a tingle. Matt must be able to sense it, because he alters his suckling motions slightly, allowing a tingly, warm feeling to spread throughout your breast and into your body. You let out a sigh of pleasure as the tightness in your breast begins to lessen as Matt drinks the milk. A blush burns up your neck and face—out of everything Matt and you have done to one another, this feels the dirtiest. But when Matt moans, a gentle hand resting on your waist as he continues, you can’t help but scrunch up his hair in your fingers. 

“Matty,” you moan. “Oh, Matty, wow. So nice.”

Matt opens his eyes slightly, moving his gaze up toward you to meet your face the best that he can. 

“So good for me, Matty,” you breathe, scratching gentle circles into his scalp. With a few more sucks, Matt gently releases your nipple from his mouth before peppering wet kisses all over your chest, but not before you catch a glance of a little dribble of milk falling from his lips and into his scruff. 

“You taste so good, angel,” he hums. “Please let me do the other breast. Please. Let me help you feel good, sweetheart.”

“You’re gonna get full, Matty,” you coo as you play with his hair and scratch his scalp, having him purr and nuzzle into your chest. “Gonna get milkdrunk.”

“Mm, but I’m helping you, sweetheart,” he moans as he kisses the fleshy underside of your breast.

“How Catholic of you, helping others, being such a good boy,” you moan as Matt holds onto your waist, trailing his kisses carefully over your tender stomach. “Such a good boy, Matty. Such a good role model for our little girl.”

“Can I angel?”

“Yeah, Matty.” The sentence isn’t even out of your mouth when Matt’s lips latch onto your other nipple, suckling and working the flesh as he just had with the other. While the motion is still gentle, there’s a bit more urgency with his actions, needing the milk out of your breast like life-sustaining nectar. His hand gently grazes up your side to cup your breast, gently squeezing as he sucks to get more milk out of you and into him.

“Good boy, Matty,” you whine. “So good for me, like that. I love feeling you like that, sucking on my tit, draining my milk for me to make me feel better. Good boy, so good.”

Matt releases your breast, gasping for air before he reattaches them to your mouth, kissing you deeply and letting you taste yourself in a new way on his lips. 

“So good, mommy,” he hums. The way the name rolls off his tongue sends a shiver all over my body. You started to get into the habit of calling one another “mommy” and “daddy” the closer we came to the due date, and have been since she was born, but hearing the timbre of the word in such a context drives you wild. “Mommy takes such good care of daddy, doesn’t she?” he drawls, his lips brushing up the column of your neck as he kisses the skin. “So good to daddy.”

You whimper into his lips, simultaneously needing him and hating how he started something you can’t finish—and he can’t finish either, judging by how hard he feels. “What can daddy do to make you feel better, mommy? Tell me, angel.”

“Let me make you feel good, Matty.”

“You just made me feel all kinds of good, sweetheart.”

“But I can make you feel better,” you breathe as you grab him though his pants. “Let me get you off, baby. Let me suck your cock, please.”

A smile pulls at the corner of his lips. “And that will make you feel better, angel?”

“Yeah,” you assure with a kiss. 

Moving off of the bed, he quickly rids his pants off his waist, kissing you tenderly before straddling your shoulders, positing himself in a way that won’t hurt or exert your recovering body.

“You need me to stop, you just tell me, promise?” Matt instructs, holding his hard cock by the base, just up and away from your face enough to be out of your reach.

“Promise.”

“That’s my good girl.”

And with that praise, he lowers his cock into your mouth, a hiss escaping his lips as he slowly pushes deeper into you. Matt grips the headboard with one hand and brushes the top of your hair with the other, careful to set a gentle pace that will still let him get off and relieve his rock-hard cock. You gag as he hits the back of your throat, and your hand carefully snakes up to fondle his balls. The whimpers and moans that fall from his lips makes your face grow warm and goosebumps pop up on your skin. Drool gradually begins to dribble out of your mouth, your eyes watering as he gives you more and more of him. You hum as his length pumps in and out of you, letting you taste the intoxicating flavor of just him.

The sloppy sound of Matt in your mouth is nothing short of lewd and erotic. All you want is him, more and more. Matt is like a drug, and you’re hooked on him—just as much as he is you. He lets out a shaky breath, moving one hand from his grip on the headboard down to the top of your head, lovingly caressing your hair. You look up at him, feeling like you could come just from his blissed-out expression, his eyes closed and his plush lips parted. As his thrusts become more intense, he moves back to grip the headboard to try and control himself. Between the movement, hums, your tongue, you feel the little tell-tale signs that he’s close. With a few more of your joint movements, he grunts and stills, unloading in your mouth. You gasp as he pulls his cock out after he’s done, leaving you to swallow his cum and place a kiss on his upper thigh, feeling the smooth skin just before his leg hair become prominent. “I love you,” you breathe into his skin with another kiss. Adjusting himself, he slides next to you on the mattress, kissing the skin of your arm and shoulder, up to your throat, and then your cheek.

“You okay, angel?”

“Yeah,” you swallow. “I’m good. I made my man feel good.” You peck a kiss to his nose, running your fingers through his hair as he holds his face above yours. 

“We really probably shouldn’t have done that,” he smirks. 

“But we did,” you smirk right back. “Besides, my husband started the whole thing trying to take care of me. How can I deny him that?”

His smile crinkles the corners of his eyes as he places a gentle hand on your stomach. “And you’re sure that you’re okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

“I’m sure, Matthew.”

“I thought it was daddy?”

You roll your eyes as you feel your face burn. “Ugh, did I unlock a kink or two?”

The biggest shit-eating smirk you have ever seen spreads across his face. “Maybe, but not just for me, angel. I heard how your heart rate increased when we called each other those names and when I was sucking on your boobs. It’s all very hot.”

“I’m glad my heart could turn you on.”

“It has from the moment I heard it.” Matt brings his lips to yours in a gentle, tender kiss filled with nothing but love.

“Sap,” you giggle against his lips, only prompting him to kiss you more. “I love you.”

“I love you too, (Y/N).”

Cuddling into one another, you slowly begin to drift off before you hear the whines and whimpers coming from your daughter’s crib.

“I’ve got her,” he whispers with a kiss to your forehead. “Rest, sweetheart. And keep your fingers crossed that she’s not hungry.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​ @steampowerednightvaler​ @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles​ @toozmanykids​ @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop@itwasthereaminuteago @peter1ismybrother @hellskitchens-whore​ @dpaccione

#matt murdock #matt mudock x reader #Matt Murdock x fem!reader #Matt Murdock fluff #matt Murdock smut #Matt Murdock x reader fluff #Matt Murdock x reader smut #Matt Murdock x fem!reader fluff #Matt Murdock x fem!reader smut #Matt Murdock fanfic #Matt Murdock fanfiction #Matt Murdock x you #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil smut #daredevil fluff #daredevil x reader fluff #daredevil x reader smut #daredevil x fem!reader #daredevil x fem!reader smut #daredevil x fem!reader fluff #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #dad!matt #dad!matt murdock #dad!Matt Murdock x mom!reader

[flamingo-writes]

Hi flamingo how are you? How are you with your leg pain since the move? Have you been resting? I hope so!

Well as always I leave you a mini request before starting the week ;)

What do you think that, reader is a not so well known singer ,who is starting out in the world of music and meets Hobie in one of their own performances when they are singing on stage.

hope you have a wonderful week tysm <3!

I’m not going to lie to you, I’ve had a bit of a writer’s block. I powered through it though. I thought of a million ways this could’ve played out and went for the one I liked the most. I hope you like it too, and I’m sorry for the late reply 😢 I rewrote this like three times help 😭 whenever I wanted to sit and write I ended up doing a lot of other things.

With A Little Help — Hobie x Reader

Title inspired by the song by the Beatles With A Little Help From My Friends. The bicycle thing is inspired after a real accident I had once, except I don’t play the guitar and but I did get hit on a freshly made tattoo 🥲

Warnings: cursing,

The moment you decided to start a band with your friends, you knew from the beginning it would go one of two ways.

You could either sign with a producer and basically sell yourself like whores. Somehow gaining a debt just by signing a piece of paper, and working an ungodly amount of hours just to pay your debt, and hope the fame you’ve gained actually helps you make money after the percentage the producing house gets. Becoming puppets for the producer to move around the way they want.

Or you could do everything yourself working with what you had. Recording wherever you found available –sometimes that place being your own room–, asking friends if you could borrow equipment or instruments. Asking for favours. Gathering coins your couch has been swallowing and hoarding for years to print a few hundred copies of posters announcing your next gig.

And out of the two, you knew perfectly well which one you wanted. One of them helped you maintain your freedom, which was exactly what your music spoke about. Gathering a small and loyal fanbase was relatively easy in the low underground bars. The punk scene, the alternatives, and the rock fans soon spread the word around their friends. Eventually, these same people started offering their help with equipment, a few bills for copies, even instruments. It was still a small fanbase, but it was more than enough and they were all somehow more helpful than most people

One day in particular, your guitar player gave you a call. To your nerves, you picked up your phone, furious.

“Where the hell are you?! You’re so late! We’re supposed to start playing in ten minutes!” You barked.

“Ye-yeah…About that…” Your guitar player said with an awkward chuckle. “You see, it’s a funny story…”

“Oh god, no…” You groaned.

“Listen. First of all I’m fine–”

“What the fuck does that even mean? Wait, shit, bruv, did something happen to you?”

“You see, this is where the story gets funny…” They said with an awkward giggle. “I was minding my own business, on my way to the bar. I was on my bike. Riding it, you know. When an old lady and a tiny ass dog appeared out of nowhere, from the corner. In an attempt to not run over either of them, I turned and there was a tree–”

“You can’t be serious…” You gasped, “you alright?”

“In the greater scheme of things, yes I am…But…I kinda hurt my wrist very badly…”

“God, I’m scared to ask…how badly…?”

“Uh, I don’t think my skin is supposed to look purple…And the lady I almost ran over is offering to drive me to the emergency room?”

“Shit. What do we do? Do we cancel—“

“No! Don’t! I don’t know. Improvise?”

“How? You’re our guitar player!”

“Go wild on the bass?”

“Fuck off!” You groaned, annoyed.

Hobie Brown was not far from there, hearing to actually both sides of the conversation through his enhanced hearing. Helping your drummer setting everything up.

“I think something happened to your guitar player, mate?”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m hearing…” Your drummer said nervously.

“If you guys need help, I know how to play the guitar…I can sight read too, but if you give me a couple of minutes to look through your songs, it would be better…” Hobie said as your drummer’s face widened in surprise.

“Dude, seriously?”

“Yeah,” Hobie said, smirking confidently.

“The motherfucker broke–”

“We found a guitar player!” Your drummer interrupted, raising both arms in the air happily.

Hobie giggled and looked over at you. Your eyes remained wide and confused, wondering when the roller coaster of emotions was going to end. You knew him. You didn’t really, but you’d seen him around enough to recognize his face.

“Seriously?”

“Sure, why not?” He said, shrugging.

“Oh god, thank you! Thank you so much, mate!” You said happily, running your hands through your hair in relief, making Hobie chuckle.

“Call me Hobie,” He said with a cheeky smirk.

You introduced yourself, as well the rest of your band. As you discussed what t do for the set list, you insisted Hobie didn’t improve and sight read all of your songs, and instead settled for a set list made out of mostly covers from famous songs, and just leaving a few of your original songs distributed for Hobie to take a break from a hyper concentrated state.

As the anxiety was rising in your belly, about to make you puke a minute away from starting your gig, Hobie grabbed your shoulder, catching your attention.

“Hey, it’s going to be alright,” He said, trying to comfort you. “And if it blows, then what the hell? It’s not going to be the last time you play. That way you could always make a dramatic comeback and look even cooler,”

His words while making you feel less scared about it all, it did nothing for your nerves.

Although as soon as you started playing, the music consumed you. Playing with Hobie instead of your guitar player was simply different. Not that any of them was better or worse than the other, but the dynamics changed drastically. Despite not really knowing Hobie that well, the interactions on stage were fun, spontaneous, even comfortable, like you’d known him for way longer than just the last hour.

Hobie not only exchanged glances with you and walked over to you while playing his guitar, he also went over to your drummer. Sometimes jointing you for the choruses of the covers, or adding spontaneous riffs to guitar solos.

By the end of the gig, people were crazy, screaming, jumping around. As you grabbed the mic, covered in sweat and breathless you thanked them.

“We’d love to stay, but we actually have to go check out on our friend…” You chuckled. “Our guitar player had Ana vidente earlier today, and couldn’t play. We had the magnificent Hobie, here, helping us out!” You sighed. “Let me hear it for Hobie for being a real one!” The crown screamed and clapped, as Hobie smiled at you.

“Thank you for letting me help,” Hobie said, walking over to the mic and grabbing it. “Thank you guys as well!”

“Oh yeah. You guys made this very fun!” You said going back to the mic, your face bearing Hobie’s as he glanced at you with a smirk, “Have a good night, everybody!”

As you walked behind the stage, you grabbed a towel you had nearby and dried your face and hair.

“Good job out there,” Hobie said walking behind you.

“Thank you! It was all possible thanks to you!” You said looking up from your towel. “I’d love to stay and talk but…”

“Yeah, go check on your friend. You can buy me a beer some other time to return the favour,” He said with a cheeky smirk.

“Just one? An entire gig for just one beer?” You joked.

“Well, at least three,”

“Sounds like a deal,” you sighed, meeting his stare and biting your lower lip softly. Seriously, thank you…”

“My pleasure,” He said confidently, meeting your stare, as you noticed something in them sparking.

“See you around?”

“I hang out here an awful lot so, yeah,” He shrugged, putting his hands in the pockets of his vest.

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #hobie x you #hobie x reader #hobie brown x female reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #hobie x y/n

[melliemelons]

Re: the lil drabble that you wrote for the ask (same anon btw): Picture that for as much weight as the mother puts on, the babies put on even more. The majority of the calories are going to them and anyone can see it. Her tummy enters rooms far before she does... if she can even fit through the doorway. Her belly is wider than she is and there's no angle from which it can't be seen. Everyone in the neighborhood can't help but stare and gossip about how big she is and how much her babies must weigh. Every time she manages to find clothes that fit, the movements of her babies cause rips that spread like knocking over dominoes and buttons go flying like they were fired from a slingshot. When people touch her tummy without permission, she can't reach them to swat them away. Their movements have gotten so strong that when they kick, they almost knock her over. They jerk her forward and she has to follow along to keep from toppling over. The babies get a whiff of food and next thing she knows she's being forced toward yet another meal to feed her gluttonous brood. Sometimes her belly jumps from all of the activity inside, and it knocks things off of counters, upends furniture, makes all kinds of trouble. They're just too big and strong now, but she can't stop them from getting bigger and stronger when she keeps eating so much

Oooh, anon! You certainly know what gets me. 🤤 This is all so, so GOOD!

The poor thing is really just caught in a vicious cycle, isn't she? The larger her brood grows, the hungrier she gets, the more she consumes, the larger her brood becomes... it's almost as if she isn't in control of herself anymore. This is more than mere pregnancy brain. This is pregnancy worship, leaving her an absolute slave to the state of her body.

She can't even bear to look at her closet anymore. Why would she bother? Nothing in it has even come close to fitting for months now. In a pile in the corner is mangled and torn clothing, the victims of her frantic attempts to cover herself with something. Anything.

But then again, pregnant cows don't need to wear anything, do they? All they need to do is eat, and grow.

She barely notices that her due date has come and gone. Somewhere in the back of her mind, there's panic--how the hell is she supposed to birth babies that surely weigh near fifteen pounds apiece now? But then the aching in her stomach starts, those hunger pains that make the entirety of her gravid girth groan and gurgle.

She's not going to be mobile for much longer.

#this is totally self indulgent #these asks are so fun though #More please! #I love talking about bellies and belly accessories #smut #preggophilia #rapid wg #hyperpregnancy

[yonemurishiroku]

Hiya yone! Recently my brain has been infested with bugs that want me to make a Circe Nico AU (Nico is Circe?? Kinda.) You are the glorious fanfic writer who can conjure up anything from anything, so please do your magic.

I'll try my best, however I only know like. 2 stories about Circe at best? So please don't put too much trust in me lol 😅😅

The first one is when Odysseus visits her during his return voyage to Ithaca. I forgot most of it (typical me) except that she turns his crew into animals, which Odysseus managed to convince her to undo and if I'm not mistaken, they live together for a while?? Let's just go with it.

As for this story, I think it would fit best with Jasico? Mainly bc they have that sort of enemies-to-lovers air (Jason distrusted Nico at first). Jason is best fit to be a returning hero, too. Though the Cupid debacle is like heaven and earth with mere convincing on Odysseus' part, I reckon we can work around it with enough maneuver. Why does Nico accept to turn them back? - Maybe he's feeling generous, maybe he's a petulant lonely witch who wants people to stay but never knows how to voice it, and ppl often run at the first sight of him, so he just turns them into animals to keep them by her side.

In the end, Odysseus leaves Circe. This aligns well with the fact that Jason just dropped dead shortly after he and Nico became friends. Which is a funny (and depressing thought) if you put thoughts into it. Which I can't atm lmoa.

Anw. think of it as a piece of quiet Jason has given Nico in the expanse of his loneliness. That, though he was swept away by the natural order of things at the end, Jason did try his best to alleviate Nico's pain. So I reckon there should be a little bit of affection - if not love - in there.

The second story is, well, Circe and Scylla. And the male lover whose name I forget.

This is a classic case of jealousy - so who fits it better than Percy, the canon epitome of every jealous trope in the history of fiction?

sorry that was my pettiness talking. Anywayyyyy, I suppose I don't need to talk about this... I mean it's pretty clear who is who and how the story transpires: Circe is in love with that-something-sea-god, who is in love with Scylla, so Circe turns her into a monster. The only difference between Circe and Nico in this is that he doesn't do anything to Annabeth (even refuses to hate her still. gosh).

But that wouldn't be Percico, is it? So I say just say fuck it and make Percy a sea monster or something Idk. A witch living secluded in an island with his beloved sea monster? I'm in.

Another choice would be to make Annabeth the bad one but I'm in no position to make that propose.

If you still want to keep the story, and if you're any of an unhinged person like me, just make Nico the villain. Well, Circe is the villain in this story, yeah? Embrace it - Nico as the powerful witch, whose loneliness-induced jealousy wreaks havoc on even a sea god. What's left is not love - because love is the last thing Yone needs in fanfics srsly - but an impression of terror, of how disastrous Nico's love can be.

The concepts mix well in this case btw. I remember a painting of Circe pouring a plate filled with poison into the sea. Just imagine it - a blinding blackness spreading rapidly across the lapping water with just a touch of Nico's dainty finger. The shadows overlap with the roaring waves - the black undercurrents raging all the same - and darkness swallows all those whom he call enemies. If Percy's the sea and Nico's the lightless bottom, dark, mysterious, and full of threats.

That's everything I have atm, I guess. Sorry for not being able to help much :(((

#nico di angelo #pjo #hoo #toa #yone rambling #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #jasico #percico #circe nico au #nico au #pjo au

[sweetyyhippyy]

Promises. Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader. *FLUFFY ANGST*

*NOT MY GIF*

Summary: Eddie’s wife is pregnant with their first child. While cuddling with her, he reflects on the type of dad he wants and doesn’t want to be. 

Word count: 837

TW: Mentions of pregnancy. Mention of throwing up (nobody actually throws up. It’s just mentioned). Eddie talking about his parents (sad home life). A little bit of fluffy angst, but it ends fluffy I promise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie couldn’t help but watch his wife from the bed as she washed her face clean in the bathroom. His gaze fell to her growing belly that was on the sink counter, a smile spreading across his face as the sight.

She turns the light off to the bathroom, walking back into their bedroom as she yawns, climbing into bed with her husband.

Eddie immediately shimmies down the bed to rest his head on her belly, giving the bump kisses through her shirt. “How’s she hanging today?” He asks, rubbing the sides of her belly.

“She’s a pain in my ass.” She jokes, rubbing her hands through his dark hair, untangling some knots. “Kicking me when she’s mad, which makes me have to pee every 3 seconds. I got tacos for lunch, and then threw them up 10 minutes later because someone doesn’t like the grease.”

Eddie chuckles softly. “Already fighting with mom? You’re supposed to be nice to her, remember?” He directs the question to his unborn daughter.

“The only thing she lets me eat without getting sick is ice cream, and bread.”

“She’s just like you already. Loves ice cream like her mom.” Eddie takes her hand and kisses her wrist. “I love you. Both of you.”

She smiles down at him, rubbing his cheek with her thumb. “We love you too, Eds. You’ve been so patient with me, even when I’m being a grumpy bitch.”

“You’re not grumpy. Just uncomfortable. Besides, I promised you I would be here every single step of the way, I wasn’t kidding.” He says, playing with her wedding ring. “I made a promise to myself a long time ago that I wasn't going to be like my father and I meant it.”

Even though they had been together for almost 5 years, married for almost 1 year, it wasn’t often Eddie talked about his parents, but more specifically his dad. She could count on one hand how many times he talked about him.

“My dad was so in and out when my mom was pregnant with me, just coming and going whenever he wanted. And then in and out of jail my whole childhood.” He wasn’t looking at her while he spoke about his absent father, somehow feeling ashamed and embarrassed, like it was his fault. “I promised myself if I ever had kids, I was going to be the best dad ever. That I would be there for my girl when she was going through the pregnancy.”

“Well guess what, you are the best soon to be dad, and best husband I could ever ask for.”

Eddie finally looked up at her, his big doe eyes filling with tears. “I know I said this before and even after we got married, but you know I’m never going to treat you the way my dad did my mom, right? I’m never going to hurt you.” His voice strained in the last sentence.

She takes her thumb and wipes a tear away from his cheek, cradling his stubbly face. “I know, baby. I know you would never hurt me. Just because you and your dad share DNA, doesn’t mean you’re going to turn out like him.”

He nods his head, leaning into her hand. “Never want to be like him.” He whispers, almost as if he was telling himself instead of her.

“You’re here with me, you’re not locked up in prison, you’re already doing better than your dad. I’m not going to worry about you being an absentee dad. What I am going to worry about is you not letting me hold the baby once she’s born, you’re going to hog her.”

Eddie grins ear to ear before kissing her belly. “Yeah I’ll make sure she’s a total daddy’s girl. You don’t have a chance.” He laughs.

“We’ll just have to try for a little boy so he can be a momma’s boy.”

“And what’s going to happen if I only know how to make girls? We’ll just have a house full of girls.”

She giggles at the horrified face he makes. “One of them has to like me more than you.” She jokes.

“No, see, I already know this one is going to be wrapped around my finger. I can’t even tell you no, what makes you think I’m going to tell someone that is half of me, no?”

“Oh, so I’m going to be the bad guy?” She laughs, her belly bouncing.

Eddie chuckles, “Yup. You’re going to be the hard ass. I’ll be the one to save them and take them out for ice cream after. Sorry babe.” He says with a bright smile on his face.

“Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Can we go get ice cream?” She asks in a sweet voice, knowing he couldn’t say no to her in that tone. “The baby wants it.”

Eddie chuckles, rubbing the sides of her belly. “Well if the baby wants it, who am I to tell her no? Let’s go, you two.”

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson fan fic #Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x fem! reader #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson one shot #dad!eddie

[jelzorz]

170.

Claudia works in the gardens these days.

Personally, she thinks she got off easy. She knows what she did and what it cost, knows that if she were anyone else there might have been a cell waiting for her, and even that would have been a light sentence compared to what it should have been, but the argument is that there are other uses for her. She knows too much about plants—how to dry them, how to brew them, which ones and which parts to use to ward off fevers and ease pain. Things she picked up from Terry, she supposes, and from the books her father used to make her read in her youth.

It's a little like dark magic, and at the same time not. It's life that gives life, it's knowing which parts do what, but it's knowing the cost and using it to heal, not to hurt. It's a far cry from what she used to be: a nobleman's daughter, with all of its titles and comforts: the well-fitted dresses, the clean hands, the luxury of working at a desk, and steadiness of her future. The maids used to curtsey to her when the brought up her tea, their eyes down and hands folded, their voices quiet an polite, and now she is one of them, dirt under her fingernails and all.

It doesn't matter. Her back aches and there is sweat on her brow, but it's certainly better than being dead. She misses the luxuries sometimes, but she still gets to live at the castle, and she still gets to see Soren, and Ezran even comes to join her at times so it's not all bad. Not really. It's what he's doing today.

"This isn't super king-like," she says. It's the middle of summer. The air is humid and the heat of the sun is sharp on her skin, and Claudia is working on her knees in the far end of the gardens and planting flowers she knows the bees like. Ezran works beside her, dirt stained hands brushing hers. "It's not your job to get your hands dirty like this."

He shrugs. "Everyone has to get their hands dirty at some point," he says. It comes off a little cryptically and Claudia wonders if there's something happening in court that's bothering him.

She scoffs. "Don't I know it?" she says, wriggling her fingers and trying to pass it off as a joke.

He doesn't laugh and she presses her lips shut.

"Is everything okay?"

"Hm? Oh." He chuckles then, a little sheepish. "Yeah. Just council stuff. There are... things I have to do that I never thought I'd have to and it... doesn't feel good."

"Ah yeah." Claudia looks away from and stares at her hands. Sometimes, after bad weather, the silt on the side of the castle closer to the cliffs turns red and stains her fingers red in a way that makes her want to scrub them raw. "I get that. Sometimes it's... just what you have to do."

Ezran says nothing. Then the lunch bell rings in the distance and he gets up with a huff. "There's some stuff going on in Lux Aurea," he admits. "They need more of our troops but... we're spread pretty thin right now. If I send soldiers, it'd only be because it's Aunt Amaya and Aunt Janai asking, and it'd be our soldiers risking their lives for something we're not even involved in, but if I say no, there are people in Lux Aurea who are going to die."

"Mm," says Claudia, ducking her head. This is council stuff, high level security stuff that she absolutely should not be hearing, but Ez talks about it anyway, seeking counsel from someone outside of it all—from someone that isn't Callum.

"Is it supposed to get easier?" he wonders, holding a hand out to her to help her up too. "I just want to be a good king," he murmurs. "I want to help people, but it feels like one way or another, I'm gonna end up with other people's blood on my hands."

"Mm," says Claudia again. He tugs her up, and it does not escape her notice that he doesn't let go right away. "I can't answer that for you Ez," she murmurs after a moment. "I've done worse things than you, y'know? But... if you're gonna ask me, then I think you just have to do what you believe in your heart is right. You're doing your best, and at the end of the day..." She runs a thumb across his knuckles, clearing them of dirt clinging to his skin, and smiles. "These look pretty clean to me."

#claudiez #its about the metaphor #and the hand touches #this was supposed to be a rehash of the hand flex from p&p 2005 but eh #in anticipation

[let-me-put-my-lips-to-something]

Fall Into Me

Sometimes the only recourse to being kicked out of eternal paradise is finding the demon who’s been in love with you for thousands of years and letting them remake you in their image.

Content Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (feat. wing kink and wax play), Body Horror (breaking of bones), Religious Imagery

---

It’s an odd thing to wake up tangled in the power lines. The electric buzzing of the wires should be frying his body, but he supposes God planned for this when He gave Angels hollow bones.

They do have their advantages, though. He is lighter than he looks, something that helped when he fell. His wings were just barely strong enough to slow his descent, though he couldn’t control what direction they sent him in. It’s how he ended up tangled in the wires with no way out.

His wings are pinned to his back at an awkward angle. He can’t get them free, the more he tries the more ensnared he becomes. The ridges of the wire catch on his feathers, painfully pulling them out. Blood smears across his back and he begins to panic.

He needs to get out of there. His wings, his beautiful wings, they’re going to be damaged. The clothes he is wearing tear apart as he thrashes, the rip of fabric mixes with his screams as the sickening crack of feathers breaking fills the air.

The sun has set by the time he stops fighting. The stars above mock him in his struggle. They taunt him, tell him that he is no longer a part of them. That he is no longer in His graces and that is why he is stuck.

I can’t get out on my own, I need someone to help me. His eyes adjust to the lack of light, pupils dilating to take in as much light as they can. The street below him is mostly empty, there are two kids down the way. Humans, or else they would have heard him scream. But there’s another figure, someone much closer looking directly up at him.

They’re the reason he fell, the demon that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about — stop craving — for millennia. He groans, of course they had to be here. He shouldn’t be surprised, they always seem to pop up wherever he goes.

It’s a good thing, he supposes. Because that means there is someone that can help him down. He can’t see what they are doing, the lit candle they are holding burns his eyes.

The only thing he can see is their red eyes, they nearly glow with the reflection of the dancing flame.

Those damned eyes, the ones that he can feel as they rake over his body every time he steps foot out of heaven. The eyes that follow his every movement, take up his every thought. They have even invaded his dreams, where they tempt him into sin.

They are far away, a blurred speck on the ground below him. But their voice carries itself on the wind as if it were a part of the heavens itself.

“You look a bit stuck, do you need help?”

Before he can answer, they set the candle in their hands down and spread their wings. It takes just a moment before they are set on the wires next to him. He lets them work on disentangling his limbs while he takes in every detail of their scraggly wings.

His arms are freed first and the first thing he does with them is reach out for them. He wants to touch them, wants to know how they feel. Do their wings feel like his? That’s not possible, they can’t be as soft. His wings were a gift from God himself.

His fingertips just barely graze the edge of the softest feather he has ever felt when he plummets to the ground. He lands hard, the air leaves his lungs. His wings crack and break below him, the pain floods his every nerve.

Tears flood his vision as he heaves. He tries to roll over, but the attempted movement makes the pain worse. It’s not long before he feels himself being picked up, the demon’s strong arms hook underneath his knees and back.

He cries out as he is cradled to their chest. The now useless wings drag like a dead weight below his body and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it HURTS.

The world fades to black around him, and when he comes to again he is being laid down on a soft mattress. He buries his face in a pillow and his wings splay out across the bed. The pain has dulled, this new position takes the weight and pressure off the broken appendages.

That doesn’t mean they’re any less sensitive, though. Something he finds out as clawed fingers trail down the skin between the broken wings. They bring pain, yes, but this pain is different. This pain is one that feels so good in a way that he never knew was possible. He moans as he wonders what else he has missed out on in his millennia of holiness.

“You’re so pretty like this, covered in blood and lying in my bed,” the demon whispers, their warm body pressed against his back. A shiver runs down his spine at the words, an unfamiliar warmth collects in the pits of his stomach.

Their hand is hot, it burns his skin as it traces a path down his side and over the swell of his ass. They don’t stop even as they reach the warmth between his legs — the one area of his body that not even God dared to touch.

“Look how wet you are for me. I thought you couldn’t sin but here you are, dripping for me.”

He presses his hips back into their hand. This is what God wanted the Angels to abstain from? This bliss, this is something he could have had at any point in the past millennia? Oh how misguided he was.

He whines as they pull their hand away from him, sitting back onto his legs so that they are no longer pressed up to him.

“Are you sure this is something you want?” The tone of their voice is serious as they speak. “This is something that you will not be able to recover from. By crossing this line, you will fall.”

“If I shall fall, then I shall fall into you,” he grits out. They don’t know he’s already been cast out. There is no returning for him, he might as well indulge.

He looks up at the demon over his shoulder, his eyes burning in a way they never have before. “Take everything of me and make it yours.”

There is a gleam of hunger in their eyes and it excites him. Nearly as much as the hard press of their excitement against his legs. But it’s his next words that set everything in motion.

“Make me worthy of you.”

The demon’s breath hitches, their eyes shine with something unreadable before lust swallows them. Any hesitation they had evaporates as they begin moving against him. Their hardness haunts him, teases him.

“How did I get so lucky,” they lean down to growl in his ear. They nip at his earlobe and oh God does it feel good.

Every tease of their sharp teeth against his neck makes him more excited, he wishes they would bite. He follows his instinct and stretches his neck as much as he can, giving them easier access to the area.

He lets out a shaky breath as their arm wraps around him, as their hand enters his warmth. They rub lazy circles there and he’s gone. He rocks his hips back into them, begging for more. His muscles spasm as he pleads, “Please, oh God. Please!”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, his pleasure is ripped away as they pull their hand back. He whimpers at the loss.

“Don’t say His name,” the demon growls. “Tonight, I am your God.”

He peaks over his shoulder as he hears them adjusting their clothes. They remove their belt and use it to bind his arms behind his back. The leather holds his biceps secure, providing a slight lift to his limp wings.

The movement causes him to moan, but that moan quickly morphs into a scream as they dig their clawed fingers into the skin at the base of his wing. His back arches as he desperately tries to get away, but he can barely move with his arms bound and their weight on his back.

Tears stream down his face, why are they hurting him?

“Now let me hear you say it. Who is your God?” His mind is foggy and his vision is blurred. He can’t feel anything but their fingers in his skin and their hardness against his ass.

“You,” he gasps. “You are my God.”

The demon above him gives him no reprieve as they twist their hand into his broken feathers. It’s less pain this way and a coil of pleasure joins the pain as they card their fingers through the soft plumage.

He feels a rumble deep in his chest at the motion, the release of pain is almost dizzying. He’s breathless, he’s never felt like this. Never felt like he was flying even when he was firmly planted on the ground, never felt so Holy.

The last of his breath is squeezed out of his lungs as the demon presses him further into the mattress, leaning their full weight on his back as they grab a lit candle off the nightstand.

“Now, we’re going to have a little fun. If, at any point, you want me to stop you need to tell me. Understood?”

He nods, though he doesn’t think he would ever want them to stop. They could ruin him, tear him limb from limb, and he would thank them for it.

“Good boy,” they purr. “Now let’s warm you up.”

The words are punctuated by drips of hot wax hitting his skin. It burns for just a moment before his skin pulls taut and it dries. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, but oddly pleasant. That is, until the wax drips on his broken wings.

The pain is delicious. It’s as if his purity is being burned away by the wax and replaced by their sin. He gladly accepts that. They are taking him apart and remaking him with every drop of wax that splashes on his wings.

He’s never wanted before, but now he wants to scream. Wants to let the universe know who he is and who he belongs to. He wants to worship the demon, revere them for recreating him. He wants, he wants, he wants.

Just when he thought it couldn’t get any better, he feels them rut against his heat. Their jeans are gone, leaving them bare as they move against him. There are ridges along their shaft that pique his curiosity.

When he looks over his shoulder once more he is met with metal decorating their member. He salivates at the sight, what are those? Why would they alter the form that was given to them by Him?

But then he knows. He knows what they are for as the demon enters him. Each piece of metal hooks against him as they thrust in. It causes him to see stars. He wants to cry out, wants to tell them that it hurts.

They don’t slow, their thrusts brutally push him further into the mattress. Tears stream down his face and mix with the spit already polling on the pillow.

There’s so much happening, so many stimuli he has never experienced before. The metal he can feel as it moves within him, the punishing force of their hips into his, the burning of the wax on his wings, their fingers digging into his hip and pulling him back into them.

He doesn’t know how much more he can take, uncomfortable warmth is pooling deep within him. This isn’t enough for them, though, as they blow out the candle and toss it to the side. They use their now free hand to reach below him, wrapping their large claws around his throat and pulling his body off the mattress.

His wings are pinned between their bodies, his hands flatten against their lower stomach. There is just enough room for him to spear his hands, grabbing their hips and pulling them in.

The hand around his throat tightens, constricting his airways. He throws his head back against their shoulder, an invitation which they do not hesitate to accept as they press their mouth to the soft expanse of skin.

He gasps, struggling to take in air. His vision is spotty and oh God I’m close.

As if they can hear his thoughts, they bite down hard. Their teeth draw blood as his world explodes into light. He screams, his legs trembling as he comes.

They don’t stop their ministrations. They keep pounding into him and they chase their own pleasure. It’s too much, the stars in his vision turn to pin pricks of pain.

Just as he opens his mouth to demand they stop they release their grip on his throat, shoving two fingers into his mouth. Then, they utter a command that he has no choice but to obey.

“Bite.”

If my God wills it, then I shall give it to Them.

He clamps down around their fingers and his mouth fills with the tang of blood. Their hips stutter as they moan, a warmth filling his insides.

They let go of him and he falls back onto the mattress. The movement rips them from within him. He whimpers at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

Something warm drips out of him, but he’s too tired to try and figure out what it is.

The last thing he remembers before falling asleep is the demon removing the belt from around his arms and leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“You have always been worthy of me, I was just waiting for you to see that you deserved more than what He could give you.”

#ftm nsft #nsft tumblr #queer nsft #lgbt nsft #nsft trans #mlm nsft #gay nsft #my writing #nsft writing #t4t nsft #trans nsft #hornyposting #t4t #angel nsft #hierophilia #wing kink #wax play #nsft story

[hypmicdaydreams]

valentine’s day 💕 pt. 3 (bad ass temple and dotsuitare hompo)

-pairings: bad ass temple x gn!reader, dotsuitare hompo x gn!reader (individual)

-genre: fluff

-a/n: happy valentine's day 💕💖

kuko

huh? was this for him??

kuko is a little bewildered when you just hand him the chocolate, shy or not. he’s a bit slow on it, but when it hits, he does cackle and grin. you shouldn’t have!

how cute — he teases you about it, a bit too much perhaps. really, it’s all a bit flustering and confusing for him as well

but ah, he’s confused on what to do. kuko’s left scratching his head, wondering what it all meant. i mean, he did know, but it’s still so strange when it happens to him

ughh, the way his body reacts is a pain too. he gets those stupid heart flutters when he realizes all too well that you had gifted him chocolate on valentine’s of all days. why’d you have to do him like that? it’s irritating, dealing with all these annoying emotions

what a pain in the ass. he has to sort through all of himself again as well. i suppose it wasn’t all that bad though

jyushi

one word, of course: flustered. it’s pretty obvious

he kinda…short-circuits, visibly, when you hand him chocolates. he knows what this means all too well; and as much as jyushi tries to keep up his front, the cracks show when he gets all too warmed up

it’s all he thinks about for the rest of the day, missing a chord or two during practice because of it. he’s off his balance, and jyushi can’t help but bury his head into his pillow when he comes home to muffle his thoughts

hngg, everything was too much. your chocolates tasted way too good, and his mind was becoming too overwhelming. he felt all too strange and warm. again, it was all too much

he whines to amanda about what he should do, overtly emotional. why’d you give him chocolates? i mean, jyushi’s over the moon about it, but he still can’t help but wonder. he also can’t help but ponder on his feelings

jyushi knows this means he must give you something for white day, and come to terms with his feelings, eventually. but he’s sure he’ll just malfunction on the spot if he did so

hitoya

mm, he kinda freezes up? it’s clear that he doesn’t know what to do, visible on his (handsome) features

hitoya is, more or less, awkward about the entire thing. it wasn’t anything he was entirely prepared for, and hitoya is usually well prepared. it throws him off

it feels so weird to have been gifted chocolate, especially from you — he wasn’t sure why it did either. the two of you were somewhat close, and hitoya considered you ‘tolerable’, i guess

but goddammit! why’d his chest act up, his heart did a flip, when you gave him the chocolates. they could’ve been obligatory for all he knew, even if they were so obviously homemade

ugh, he needs a drink to sort this all out. he feels like a mess, both inside and out

sasara

he’s shocked, but a good shocked! sasara is pretty expressive i think, so you can definitely see it on his face in real time as he goes from surprise to being flattered

gahh, his heart is full to bursting from getting chocolates from you, and he definitely expresses that. his smile seems a bit bright, and sasara is definitely a little loud with it, not too much though (maybe he throws in a pun or two..or even a flirt)

but really though, it puts him in a great mood, to get chocolates from you (especially if they’re homemade). his jokes and routine seemed to flow naturally that night, and he’s as funny as ever. sasara feels at his best

and your chocolates were the perfect reward for after. they’re not too sweet, a bit bitter from the darkness actually, but sasara enjoys them. they’re super good, especially with the warmth that spreads and resounding of his heart in his ears

sasara is left with many thoughts, especially about you. they all feel too good though, and sasara is sure he comes to a conclusion

you were so precious to him

rosho

he trips over his words and can’t seem to get a sentence out when you hand him chocolates. he’s beyond in disbelief, at a loss of words

i mean, rosho’s super grateful! but also, what the fuck. he totally wasn’t expecting anything from you, who held so much more significance and meaning than any of the chocolates he’s received from coworkers (for some strange reason..)

it’s kinda cute how red his ears get though, and he’s super flustered. he also can’t say much without making him out to be a fool (in rosho’s eyes anyway)

it shouldn’t be much of a big deal, maybe, especially if it was only obligatory chocolate; but rosho can’t help but feel all muddled up and confused inside

it’s..frustrating to him a little, trying to make sense of all these feelings. all he knows is that it felt good, much so, when you gifted him the chocolates

well, he had until white day to figure it out

rei

well, it’s amusing for him, certainly

he’s not exactly the type to receive anything for valentine’s day, of course, and it’s not like rei cared much about the day anyway

but, he still couldn’t help but appreciate your gesture. you went out of your way to gift him chocolates on valentine’s of all days. it’s cute, especially with how shy you looked gifting him it (maybe it earned a little chuckle out of him too)

it’s still a little strange to rei, though, when it came to himself. this feeling is difficult to explain, but it’s familiar to a degree. he’s not entirely oblivious to it all, but some things still aren’t all too clear

he can’t entirely bring himself to finish the box of chocolates though, for some reason

things are certainly a bit more muddled between the two of you after

#hypmic #fluff #gender neutral reader #headcanons #kuko x reader #kuko harai #jyushi aimono #jyushi x reader #hitoya amaguni #hitoya x reader #sasara x reader #sasara nurude #rosho tsutsujimori #rosho x reader #rei yamada #rei x reader #final part!! #hope everyone enjoys TT #it was super fun to write

[simpleeshea]

On the clock!

C!Wilbur x reader

< previous chapter Next chapter >

Chapter 4.

Go to work, get paid, but not enough.

“It’s Wednesday, my dude!” I burst into the store door, an empty disposable cup of coffee in my hand.

“It is,” Wilbur confirmed, putting his phone down on the counter as he looked up at me. His face contorted into an odd expression before he gave a small smile. “Why does that matter? You religious or something?”

I give him a quick shake of my head. “No, definitely not.” I slide behind the counter and plop myself onto the stool.

“Really?” he muses, “then what’s with the dressy clothes?”

I look down at my attire, it was true that I didn’t normally wear anything this nice to work (not to say that my clothes weren’t nice in the first place.)

I find myself going quiet at his question. Wilbur didn’t mind, he just passively nodded before picking up his phone to check the time. That was something I admired about my and Wilbur’s friendship. We both had shit that went on in our lives, but neither of us ever asked about that. We decided nonverbally to keep our shit lives and our friendships separate. He didn’t know much about my life outside of work and I didn’t know much about his, and that’s how we liked it. So Wilbur didn’t pressure me to tell him how the rent was getting harder and harder to pay or how I had an interview for a second job during my lunch break.

“So,” Wilbur spoke up, “whose turn is it to restock the shelves?”

I looked over at him and groaned. He had a cheeky smile on his face because he knew whose turn it was.

Laughing he pointed over at me, “It’s your turn,” he said in a sickeningly sing-song voice.

“If you don’t shut up, I will literally kill you.”

“Can we get a threat jar too?” he asked looking over to the nearing full swear jars and poking at my head.

I scrunched my nose at him, “I will bite your finger off.”

He chuckled as he stopped poking my head. Wednesdays were Wilbur’s favorite because it meant he got to mock my pain. Wednesdays are the days that I dread.

“Better get to work stocker!” he said sounding far too amused.

I grumbled before standing up from my stool and heading toward the back storage room and grabbing a clipboard with the list of things that were supposed to be put out today. I glanced over the list before grabbing a few boxes and carrying them out of the storage room.

Wilbur was helping a customer whose card kept declining. I cringed and felt bad for the poor woman because she looked really panicked. Eventually, her card worked and with a sigh of relief, she took her drink and cigarettes and walked out the door.

I begrudgingly popped open the box in my hand, setting it down on the floor, and began to take the contents out of it to place on the shelves.

Wilbur propped himself up on his arm, his cheek resting peacefully on his hand. “You look so funny when you’re mad,” he said with a laugh.

“You just look funny.”

Wilbur reared back in faux pain. “I can’t believe you just said that! I mean I’m genuinely hurt.”

I took my middle finger and shoved it in his direction while my other hand dug through the box.

“Twenty-five cents.”

“It was nonverbal.”

“That still counts,” he argued.

I look up at him, completely fed up with his nonsense for the day and I hadn’t even been at work for an hour. “Wilbur… I am going to shove my twenty-five cents down your throat,” I smile passive aggressively.

Wilbur put a hand on his throat for a moment, seeming lost in thought before laughing. “Why can’t you be angry like this all the time?”

“Because then I have to deal with you being all smiley and sh- crap,” I awkwardly caught myself before swearing.

“Would you rather I be grumpy?” he asked with a smile spread wide across his lips.

“That’s how you normally are.” I crossed my arms and pretended to mope, “I’m Wilbur and I’m writing a book where I’m the main character,” I deepened my voice and mocked him.

He began to laugh and fall into a giggle fit, banging his hand on the counter as he laughed.

I shook my head as I tried not to laugh with him. His laughs were so contagious.

“I’m surprised you didn’t take that chance to make a jab at my height,” he said as he gained some form of composure.

“Nah,” I waved him off, “that’s too easy to make fun of.”

He shook his head, smiling. I looked down at the box on the floor; it was empty. I bent over to pick the box up and chunked it toward the trashcan beside the register counter.

“Careful where you're throwing that thing. You might take someone’s head off.”

“That was the goal, I just missed.”

“Loser. Get better aim,” he teased.

“There’s always the next box… and the next, and the next, and the next,” I shrugged as I turned on my heel, walking toward the storage room again.

This nonsense went on for a few hours. Wilbur poking fun at me and me just grumbling about it or threatening him in various ways. Wednesdays were a very different kind of day for Wilbur and I. Tomorrow it would be back to normal, I’d spend the whole day trying to find ways to make him laugh or listen to him talk about his book, or tell me about how he tried to cook some meal for dinner which almost burnt down his kitchen. I would never admit it to Wilbur, but Wednesdays were my favorite because those were the days he smiled the most.

—

“And what do you think makes you the most qualified for this position?”

I folded my hands in my lap, trying to keep my legs from shaking too nervously. “I’m a great fit for this position because you will never find someone as much of a perfectionist as I am. Those coffees will surely be brewed to absolute perfection.”

“Right…” the interviewer woman wrote something down in her notebook. “And do you have any experience making coffee? And not just the kind you brew at home.”

My breath hitched. “Don’t put too much creamer kiddo, you’ll make yourself sick.”

“But it tastes betteerrrrrr!”

“Yeah, I have coffee making experience.”

“Elaborate please.”

“Me and my parents make frappes and stuff at home.” I would have corrected myself and put all of that in the past tense, but in all honesty, I hadn’t made coffee with my parents since I was little. They never had time for that when I got older.

“Well,” the woman whose name I didn’t care to learn stood up, “It was a pleasure to meet you and you should get an email in about two to three weeks regarding whether you were excepted into the position.” She held out her hand. I stood up and firmly took her hand in mine, her skin cold like ice. I shook her hand once before letting go. Her expression gave me the vibe that she was the type of person to immediately go and sanitize her hands after touching anyone.

I exited the small back room and left the café. “That could have gone better,” I sighed as I sat down in my dingey Chevy truck and slammed the door. I put the key in the engine and started the vehicle as it revved to life (much too loud for my liking).

“Well,” I looked at the small stuffed animal I jokingly kept in my passenger seat, “Looks like it’s time to get back to work.” I blinked hard as I realized I was talking to a stuffed animal and pulled out of the parking lot to head back to work.

A/n

If you can’t tell, brain ain’t braining. It’s late at shit and I’m tired. Aslo if you couldn’t tell tehn I have absolutely no retail experience. I’ve never worked at a gas station so this is probably all super inaccurate.

Also I’m trying to keep things lighthearted with a few mild dips into your character’s background.

#Spotify #dsmp #x reader #mcyt x you #wilbur soot #dream smp #fanfic #gas station #revivbur #revivebur #revived wilbur #wilbur x reader #wilbur x you #c!wilbur x reader #c!wilbur #wilbur mcyt #dsmp wilbur

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

Hello guestie, how are you? I hope you’re good!

I really like your write, and I want to know how do you think the papas would act if they were heartbroken?

I’m doing pretty ok, thanks for asking! I hope you’re having a good day!!

Oh boy, let’s see these demon popes sad! I framed this as a reader insert just to make it easier to read!

Papas x Reader heartbreak (reader is the one who broke things off.) (implied serious relationship)

Gender Neutral Reader

WARNINGS: mentions of drugs, depressed states, unhealthy coping habits

The Papas When They Are Heartbroken

Papa Nihil: The last time this man had his heart broken he ended his music career. Dramatic yes, but how can he continue after something so painful? (Even if it’s his fault!) He simultaneously becomes withdrawn emotionally but goes out of his way to distract himself. Nihil needs time to process his feelings. He doesn’t catch feelings for people easily, and he’s used to getting everything he wants. So being heartbroken is so foreign to him. Nihil will become very curt in person. He’ll give everyone short answers and not be as social. If he can avoid talking for a while he will because he’s too much in his own head. He’s practically a ghost… until he decides to start partying again . Or throw himself in some sort of activity. Anything to help numb the pain! He’ll go wild at parties, he will invest in hobbies, and do anything to keep himself occupied so he doesn’t have to think about you. It’s his escape from the daily ache!

Papa I: He’s not the most emotional man in the world, but losing you hurt more than he could put into words. Papa tends to be the most accepting of the family. Lucifer has his plans, and clearly you weren’t meant to be in his life that way. He will be very cordial and respectful to you but very, very cold. Unless you both work together he will never willingly put himself in the same room as you. Papa has to distance himself as he can’t stand to be reminded of the pain. He is the type of man to throw himself fully into work and his free time leisure’s… but the ghouls did notice he is a bit more zealous than normal with his sacrificial worship. Papa lets himself feel the pain and then uses it to make his worship stronger. Papa eventually reasons that maybe heartbreak is his punishment for not focusing on spreading Lucifer’s will… yeah, that’s it. From time to time he will even secretly check on you to make sure you’re living a good life.

Papa II: You can’t feel heartbreak if you refuse to acknowledge it! Papa refuses to admit he feels any sort of pain from your break up. He’s always been the man to swallow his emotions because, to him, they are useless and only hold him back. Papa convinces himself you were just a passing fancy and that it wasn’t going to last anyway… he totally didn’t have plans to be strongly attached to you. Papa in the ministry work day comes off as a touch more grumpier than usual. He’s always been polite yet direct, but anyone who annoys him feels his wrath more harshly. But then when the work is done, like his father, Papa throws himself into luxury. There’s no time to even consider being sad when he’s neck deep in vice! So Papa indulges in all of his favorite things; drugs, alcohol, parties, luxury goods, and all the partners that are SO HAPPY TO THROW THEMSELVES AT HIS FEET! He can have anyone he wants, so why would he dwell on you? … right? If he ever sees you in public Papa will not acknowledge you if you don’t approach him first. Ouch.

Papa III: Oh boy- a heartbroken Papa III is the most pathetic sight you will ever see. He does not take this level of rejection well. Yes, he will always honor your wishes and respect you enough to let you walk away… but it destroys him. Papa is the most guarded of his family when it comes to his true self. Under all of his charm and sociability is a man who is afraid to ever let himself be known and hurt. And you? You were supposed to be different. This was supposed to be the love he yearned for all of his life. You were the one who got past all of his walls and loved him for the true person he was!! And you ripped it to shreds. Papa has to take sick leave over it and locks himself away to where only his brothers and his personal ghouls can reach him. Papa spends the first half of his mourning barely doing anything but staring out the window and refusing to move. Eventually, he starts going back to his favorite pastimes. But it’s not the same. Papa vows to never let anyone in his heart ever again. He sometimes wonders if you will ever try and get him back. As nice as that thought is- he could never have you back.

Papa IV/Cardinal Copia: Now, Copia’s actions after really depends on whether he was hurt before or after becoming Papa. one thing is certain, he manages to take the ending amicably at first. But when he is alone he cries so hard he becomes sick. Copia is a softer man as he is very inexperienced with serious relationships. Yes, he is able to form a coup, perform satanic rituals, and do diabolical deeds without blinking. But Copia’s heart is so tender and just wants someone to love him deep down. That being said, he will respect you enough to not try and win you back or push your boundaries. Although he will be super immature in trying to show you what you’re missing!! As a Cardinal this heartbreak is one of the many things that spur him on to being Papa. It’s your loss when he’s finally Papa and you won’t be there to enjoy it with him!! And if he’s already Papa, he does everything to show off THAT HE’S TOTALLY LIVING HIS BEST LIFE WITHOUT YOU!! Copia doesn’t need you to be happy, he’ll show you!!

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost headcanons #reader insert #papa emeritus i #papa emeritus ii #papa Nihil #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #minor trigger warning #minor triggers #drug use #depression #break up #heartbreak #reader break up

[titleknown]

KAIJUNE NEO: NEON TYGER

My name isn't really important. Well, not important to anyone reading this anyway.

Just know I was a homeless girl, and it was still better than the house I ran from. I once lived in a place that literally fell apart the moment I had to run from a police sweep. One time I got bitten by a water moccasin and had to bite the flesh of the wound out to keep it from spreading.

Not fun. But, then it happened. Like a Star of Bethlehem I saw it and like a falling star it hit me, and it... spoke to me. And it changed me, on the inside.

The men in the green suits took me right after. Compound was nicer than the streets. MREs were better than dumpster-burgers. Could have done without the interrogations. Or the tests. Or the fact that I couldn't leave. Or that they didn't treat me like a human being. I think they never asked my name. There's a lot of things I could've done without, really.

But it was there inside me. Speaking without words. It showed me things. Things beyond our mortal ken, from spaces before and beyond, only now beginning to show their face.

I'd seen inklings, bits of those things emerging, but that big picture, that huge, cosmic scope. It talked to me. It didn't want to talk to them. Said their hearts were too tainted or something. It's hard to paraphrase something that doesn't talk in words.

And then, one day, I got out. I think the men in the green coats said something about vivisection before it happened, something about "failure to co-operate." and the It didn't like that.

So for the first time, it changed me. I don't know how to describe it. Like, its that speaking-without-words thing, I think it'd sound like a porno if I tried. It was... visceral, powerful, amazing. I'll say that much.

And wouldn't you know it, something else broke out too when I did. Poor thing. there's a lot of pain in there. I'd feel sorry for it if it didn't want me and everyone else dead. Still kinda do, can't blame 'em.

I suppose I'm now some kind of messiah-thing, it calls itself a Space Queen, though it says it's a rough translation. Oh yeah, it's learning to talk with words. Given some time. It's not good at it, but it's nice to have a friend in my life.

It lets me wander around the globe, doing what I can, which is more than I thought but less than it'd hope, changing back to me-me to keep my head down. You can kinda tell it's changging me on the outside a bit, I think it called it "syncopation," it's mostly in the eyes.

I don't really need to eat anymore at least, so that helps if I'm getting the folks around me a burger I don't need. There's a lot of bad amongst the street-folk I'll admit, but there's a lot of good, and that's what keeps me going, I think that's what keeps it going too.

It's taught me to broadcast too. So, if you got lucky enough to see this before the men in the green suits come, now you know about the giant lady you keep seeing on the news punching bugs n such. Don't worry, they ain't got shit to track me. They ain't got shit to cage me.

If you see me up close, know I see you. I like you, mostly. But then run because you don't want to get in the middle of what I'm trying to pulsar at, or whatever the hell it calls it...

-Unknown radio/television broadcast, recieved by 50 million listeners in the area of Las Vegas, Nevada

----------------------

So, we have our Ultraman stand-in, Neon Tyger, named after the song by The Killers, which again, did inspire a lot of the tone of the story as well as the name.

I will add, while calling her a "space messiah" was meant as a bit of glibness on her part, akin to calling Superman Space Moses, friend of the blog @partlysmith did point out that does fit really well with Tsuburaya's whole thing of Christian symbolism with Ultraman, and I kinda realized after that the additional idea of her living amongst the homeless and marginalized while doing good is another parallel to good ol Oily Josh.

So yay, I was accidentally more clever than I thought!

Ability Notes: You know Ultraman? Basically, she does Ultraman stuff, albeit more Jack Kirby/70s psychedelic genre fiction + neon-related of course.

Bonus Trivia: The species of the "it" has different names depending on what gender of lifeform they're bonded with, Cosmic Men for male, Space Queens for female, and a whole host of esoteric ones for the other genders.

Also, the Cosmic Men have in fact shown up briefly once before in my work, and they're meant to be inspired by spacesuits, in the same way Ultraman is inspired by Grey Aliens!

And, in that grand (exceedingly late) Kaijune tradition, this character and all related narrative elements are under a CC-BY 4.0 license, as long as I, Thomas F Johnson, am credited as their creator.  

#my art #my writing #kaiju #kaijune #creature design #ultraman #sculpture #diorama #photomanipulation #kaijune 2023