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mariacallous · 7 months

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“Did they really decapitate babies?” my 14-year-old daughter asked me yesterday. She was pointing to a text message on her phone from a friend. “They’re saying they found Jewish babies killed, some burnt, some decapitated.” And I froze. Not because I didn’t know what to say—though in truth I didn’t know what to say—but because for a moment I forgot what century I was in. All of the assumptions I had made as a Jewish father, even one who had grown up, as I did, with the Holocaust just a few decades past, were suddenly no longer relevant. Had I adequately prepared her for the reality of Jewish death, what every shtetl child for centuries would have known intimately? Later in the day, she asked if, for safety’s sake, she should take off the necklace she loves that her grandparents had given her and that has her name written out in Hebrew script.

The attack by Hamas on Israeli civilians last Saturday broke something in me. I had always resisted victimhood. It felt abhorrent, self-pitying to me in a world that seemed far away from the Inquisition and Babi Yar—especially in the United States, where I live and where polls repeatedly tell me that Jews are more beloved than any other religious group. I wasn’t blind to anti-Semitism and the ways it had recently become deadlier, or to the existential dread that my family in Israel felt every time terrorists blew up a bus or café—it’s a story whose sorrows have punctuated my entire life. But I refused to embrace that ironically comforting mantra, “They will always want to kill us.” I hated what this tacitly expressed, that if they always want to kill us, then we owe them, the world, nothing. I deplore the occupation for both the misery it has inflicted on generations of Palestinians and the way it corrodes Israeli society; when settlers in the West Bank have been attacked, it has pained me, but I have also felt anger that they are even there. In short, I wasn’t locked into the worldview of my survivor grandparents and I felt superior for it.

But something in me did break. As I was driving on Tuesday, I heard a long interview on the BBC with Shir Golan, a 22-year-old woman who had survived the attack at the music festival where more than 250 people were killed, her voice sounding just like one of my young Israeli cousins. She described, barely able to catch her breath, how the shooting had started and how she’d begun to run. She’d found a wooded area and tried to hide. “I got really into the ground,” she said. “I put the bushes on me.” Covered with dirt and leaves, she’d waited. A group of terrorists had shown up and called for anyone hiding to come out. From her spot under the earth, she’d seen three young people, whom she called “children,” emerge. “I didn’t go out because I was scared. But there were three children next to me who got out. And then they shot them. One after one after one. And they fell down, and that I saw. I saw the children fall down. And all that I did was pray. I prayed to my god to save me.”

I pulled my car over because my own hands were shaking as I listened. She then described waiting, hidden in the dirt under bushes for hours, until she saw the terrorists begin to light the forest on fire. “I didn’t know what to do. Because if I’m staying there, I’m just burnt to death. But if I go out they are going to kill me.” She crawled over to where she saw dead bodies and lay on top of them, but the heat soon approached, so she found more bushes to hide in until she could run again. Burnt bodies were everywhere, and Shir looked for her friends but couldn’t find them, couldn’t even see the faces of those killed because they were so badly burned. “I felt like I was in hell.” She finally escaped in a car.

Her story flung me back to my grandparents’ stories. My grandmother hid in a hole for a year in the Polish countryside, also under dirt, also scared. My grandfather spent months in Majdanek, a death camp, and saw bodies pile up in exactly this way. Stories are still emerging of families burnt alive, of children forced to watch their parents killed before their eyes, of bodies desecrated. How was this taking place last Saturday?

But these stories aren’t what broke me. What did was the distance between what was happening in my head and what was happening outside of it. The people on “my side” are supposed to care about human suffering, whether it’s in the detention camps of Xinjiang or in Darfur. They are supposed to recognize the common humanity of people in need, that a child in distress is first a child in distress regardless of country or background. But I quickly saw that many of those on the left who I thought shared these values with me could see what had happened only through established categories of colonized and colonizer, evil Israeli and righteous Palestinian—templates made of concrete. The break was caused by this enormous disconnect. I was in a world of Jewish suffering that they couldn’t see because Jewish suffering simply didn’t fit anywhere for them.

The callousness was expressed in so many ways. There were those tweets that did not hide their disregard for Jewish life—“what did y’all think decolonization meant? vibes? papers? essays? Losers”—or the one that described the rampage as a “glorious thing to wake up to.” There was the statement by more than two dozen Harvard student groups asserting, in those first hours in which we saw children and women and old people massacred, that “the Israeli regime” was “entirely responsible for all unfolding violence.” And then there were the less explicit posts that nevertheless made clear through pseudo-intellectual word salads that Israel got what it deserved: “a near-century’s pulverized overtures toward ethnic realization, of groping for a medium of existential latitude—these things culminate in drastic actions in need of no apologia.” I hate to extrapolate from social media—it is a place that twists every utterance into a performance for others. But I also felt this callousness in the real world, in a Times Square celebratory protest promoted by the New York City chapter of the Democratic Socialists of America, at which one speaker talked of supporting Palestinians using “any means necessary” to retake the land “from the river to the sea,” as a number of placards declared. There were silences as well. Institutions that had rushed to condemn the murder of George Floyd or Russia for attacking Ukraine were apparently confounded. I watched my phone to see whether friends would write to find out if my family was okay—and a few did, with genuine and thoughtful concern, but many did not.

I’m still trying to understand this feeling of abandonment. Is my own naivete to blame? Did I tip too far over into the side of universalism and forget the particularistic concerns to which I should have been attuned—the precarious state of my own tribe? Even as I write this, I don’t really want to believe that that’s true. If I can fault myself clearly for something, though, it’s not recognizing that the same ideological hardening I’d seen on the right in the past few years, the blind allegiances and contorted narratives even when reality was staring people in the face, has also happened, to a greater degree than I’d imagined, on the left, among the people whom I think of as my own. They couldn’t recognize a moral abomination when it was staring them in the face. They were so set in their categories that they couldn’t make a distinction between the Palestinian people and a genocidal cult that claimed to speak in that people’s name. And they couldn’t acknowledge hundreds and hundreds of senseless deaths because the people who were killed were Israelis and therefore the enemy.

As the days go on, the horrific details of what happened—those babies—seem to be registering more fully, if not on the ideological left, then at least among sensible liberals. But somehow I can’t shake the feeling of aloneness. Does it take murdered babies for you to recognize our humanity? I find myself thinking—a thought that feels alien to my own mind but also like the truth. Perhaps this is the Jewish condition, bracketed off for many decades and finally pulling me in.

When news broke of the Kishinev pogrom in 1903 that took 49 lives (compare that with the 1,200 we now know were killed on Saturday), it caused a sensation throughout the world. “Babes were literally torn to pieces by the frenzied and bloodthirsty mob,” The New York Times reported. “The local police made no attempt to check the reign of terror. At sunset the streets were piled with corpses and wounded. Those who could make their escape fled in terror, and the city is now practically deserted of Jews.” In response to that massacre, the emigration of hundreds of thousands of Eastern European Jews to the United States began in earnest; the call of Zionism as a solution also sounded clearly and widely for the first time.

In his famous poem about the massacre, “In the City of Slaughter,” the Hebrew writer Haim Naḥman Bialik lamented, even more than the death, the sense of helplessness (“The open mouths of such wounds, that no mending / Shall ever mend, nor healing ever heal”), the men who watched in terror from their hiding places while women were raped and blood was spilled. I can’t say I know what will happen now that this helplessness has returned—if I’m honest, I also fear that Israel’s retaliation will go too far, that acting out of a place of victimhood, as right as it may feel, will cause the country to lose its mind. Innocent lives in Gaza have been and will be destroyed as a result, and competing victimhood is obviously not the way out of the conflict; it’s the reason that it is hopelessly stuck. But in this moment, before the destruction of Gaza grabs my attention and concern alongside fear for my relatives who have been called up to the army, I don’t want to forget how alone I felt as a Jew these past few days. I have a persistent, uncomfortable need now to have my people’s suffering be felt and seen. Otherwise, history is just an endless repetition. And that’s an additional tragedy that seems too much to bear.

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entitled-fangirl · 4 months

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Masterlist <3

I started writing fanfics in late January this year, and I'm so glad you guys like it! 5 months and 60+ fanfics already!

Bridgerton

Benedict Bridgerton

A beautiful thing to picture, indeed.

One happy marriage.

Saltburn

Felix Catton

He would burn the world for her.

I love hearing about your day. SMUT

The cold ground provided no comfort.

Sweet little nothings.

So guilty.

Breakfast is ready.

It's like heaven. SMUT

Anything for you, beautiful girl. SMUT

The Last of Us

Joel Miller

A civilized meal.

Never been more thankful.

They're not gonna hit you.

Her saving grace.

Sweet mama.

Miller baby.

Two idiots in love. Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 (Finished series)

Mandalorian

Din D'jarin

His perfect little Cyar'ika.

You've made me worry.

Such a pretty sight.

I know you made her your riduur.

Good Omens

Crowley

He may always be a demon, but she still loves him.

Hannibal NBC

Hannibal x reader x Will

I see the way you look at her, William.

His carefully crafted web.

A predicament.

Terms of Endearment (drabble).

Will Graham

No Pajama Party for you, Mr. Graham.

Fishing 101.

Their safe hold.

So scared but so happy.

Xmen

Charles Xavier

Of course, my love.

Polar

Duncan Visla

Four days of hell.

Midsommar

Pelle

That's a love rune. Casts a love spell.

Twilight

Jasper Hale

Are you scared of me, Princess?

Sparring.

Marcus Volturi

The Best Thing for Marcus.

Caius Volturi

The human did interrupt.

Sherlock BBC

Jim Moriarty

A deer in the headlights.

Harry Potter Universe

Barty Crouch Jr.

His betrothed. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

I hope I do.

Severus Snape

The astronomy professor.

Remus Lupin

Our needs. SMUT

James Potter

Feeling unwell.

OC stories:

Harry Potter universe:

The misaligned stars.

Remus Lupin x OC x (past)Regulus Black

Summary: The golden trio knocks on the door of someone who can help them with the Slytherin locket.

................

I'm new to the whole writing side of things but I'm open to try requests!

Here's the link for what I write for!

Fanfic count: 60

#masterlist #imagine #fanfiction #fanfics

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wintersera · 9 months

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heelipsoul biased you’re So real!!! could you write a foursome with fem!reader and g!p heelipsoul? 🙏🏻

cw: foursome, g!p idol x manager!fem reader, sub reader, oral (reader giving), handjob, sorta dubcon? somnophilia

heelipsoul being 3/5 of the fuckboy line in loona is so crazy to me like they’d be flirting with you non stop. and boy they’re fucking perverse as hell. heej is always trying to get you in a room to fuck, kimlip deliberately feeling you up after music video shoots or photoshoots and jinsoul is practically all over you and doesn’t give a fuck.

yeah they’d have these silly little arguments from time to time. arguments being whoever gets you for tonight or the next day, or maybe today… like, they’re insane. full on competitions and they’re so serious about it too??? one day they’d settle on an agreement when you weren’t anywhere in the vicinity of them. who gets to have you tonight?? all three of them of course 🤭

snickering as they knock on your apartment door and shit, bigass grins on their face. you’d think they were crazy, little did yk they had many plans for tonight!!

few seconds in and they’re escorting you to your bedroom. not wasting one second, kimlip and jinsoul pin your wrists to the bed while heejin takes off her boxers, cock pretty much at the ready. shoving her length in your already dripping cunt (lippie and jinsoul were playing with your tits while heej was prepping herself). kimlip then taking your mouth and finally ,jinsoul grabbing your hand and using it as if it was a fleshlight.

it felt too overwhelming that all of a sudden three girls were basically using you as a fuck toy, you weren’t opposed to it but it felt like it was very abrupt.

at this point it had been going on all night, you ending up in various different positions while the three girls changed their positions as well. fucked out from all the teasing and the overstimulation, you pass out in jinsouls arms. tbh it was very valid that you had bc they were keeping you up all night, but that didn’t stop them from fucking you in your sleep 😭

at the end of it all you were basically limping your way over to bbc (burn that fuckass company) all the other staff members looking at you weird except from heelipsoul who were winking at you.

#wintersera #kaye: imagines!!#loona x reader #loona x reader smut #loona x fem reader #loona x fem reader smut #g!p loona #g!p heejin #g!p jinsoul #g!p kim lip #kim lip x reader smut #jinsoul x reader smut #heejin x reader smut #loona smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #fem!reader #gg x reader #kpop girl group smut

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catcherinsomnia · 1 year

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Guys i know loonatheworld released a new trailer but pls don't watch it, don't even engage. I saw it rec to me on YouTube but i simply removed it by "don't recommend from this channel" i love the girls and just want them to be free boycott bbc pls! Let this flop don't make gifs or any content either. BOYCOTT

#loona #orbit #boycott bbc #bbc burn in hell

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imthebentley · 3 months

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THIS IS BBC RADIO 1

What’s happening, guys! It’s the Bentley here and you are listening to Drive Time on Radio One.

With me in the studio today is a very special guest: Traitor of Hell, the Snake who Tempted Eve, and Vintage Car Enthusiast: @thedemon-crowley himself!

Remember you can contact us by leaving a message in my ask box. Be sure to send in your burning questions and we’ll be going through them a bit later!

But before that, welcome to Radio One, Crowley, how are you doing?

#the bentley #good omens #bentley radio #crowley #crowley has a face for radio

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likeadevils · 3 months

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I trust your opinion. If you were making bets about what TS11's themes, concepts and sound would be like.. What would you like& prefer? and what would you think Taylor would do?

thank you for trusting my opinion but i am god awful at predicting what taylor is going to do next. that being said:

i think something taylor learned with all too well, anti-hero, and cruel summer is to… trust her instincts, i guess? not that she hasn’t in the past, but she’s mentioned that those songs were her favorites of their respective albums, and she didn’t expect that the general public would enjoy them as much— at least, not to the degree that they have been. but they’ve all been #1s, and more impressively to me, they’ve all broken through into wider pop culture in a way that’s super hard to do nowadays. like can you tell me what’s #1 right now because i can’t. but anyways i think she’ll be following what she wants to hear a little bit more, and trusting that her and the general public’s taste is pretty aligned at the moment. so like, to boil it down into a bingo card prediction, the lead single is going to be taylor’s favorite song on the album

also, bingo square, the color will be white. no evidence just vibes

i think another thing taylor recently learned is trusting that not only her fanbase, but the wider pop landscape would accept complex ideas delivered with a complex vocabulary. in some ways i think she was really burned by me!— she had been taught that it’s the we are never ever getting back together and shake it offs that you send to pop radio, not the all too wells. and then me! got torn apart (deservedly or not), and then the world shut down and it’s not like she needs to find a tour off her next album so what the hell, let’s take out the immediate hooks and replace it with flowery language. and it was a massive hit! twice! but it’s not the kind of music she wants to make forever. so midnights was an added gamble— can you marry the hooks with the collegiate vocabulary? and you can! anti-hero was her biggest chart success ever! so i expect more dictionary/thesaurus starter pack memes in our future, no matter what genre it’ll end up in

that being said, i think she’ll be staying in pop. i maaaaybe could see a kind of pop rock thing happening— think like, the electric guitar she adds to don’t blame me when it’s preformed live.

regardless i do think she’ll be pulling in more rep influences— i’m not super in the buisness of trying to track down when exactly she’s been re-recording, so this is coming from swiftie brain rot not timeline brain rot, but if i had to guess i would say she was mostly recording rep over the summer and with the occasional ts11 track thrown in as well. but i could be wrong maybe she has three albums recorded. idk. i am very interested in what the rep sounds like though, i think that’ll be the biggest clue to what ts11 will sound like

i’m curious how auto-biographical it’ll be. honestly, i could see taylor creating a single character to inhabit and tracking their story throughout an album, which would parallel the emotions she’s going through, but not the exact situations. but that’s me projecting what i would need to do to process the fucking year she’s been through, and taylor has consistently been saying how much she gets from having people sing back the words thought she must be alone in thinking, so like maybe it’ll be intensely About Her, who knows

as for release, i’m a big post eras tour believer. like i know it’s been said a million times but god how impossible would it be to add another set to that thing. like we might get the announcement and lead single while still on tour, but not a full album

i’m also expecting a more talk-y rollout. i would bet we’re getting a couple of print interviews— not anywhere near 1989 or lover levels, but like, you know. rolling stone, vogue, maybe another time, that kind of thing. and in front of camera stuff too— zane lowe, a bbc live longe, some late night appearances, maybe going on kelly clarkson’s show. and maaaaybe a hot wings episode. maybe. i think taylor got a bit burned by the long roll out for lover, and regardless she had other priorities when it came to the midnights release, but it’s been a while and she does like to surprise people by doing something completely predictable. but also this is totally me being like pleaseeeee give interviews they help me with timeline research so much

i predict this every time but visual album!!! if i keep saying it one day it’ll be true!!! it just makes sense she’s been getting so into directing!!!

while we’re in the realm of things that would make me specifically go insane i just think it would be funny if she got paul mccartney to feature on a song. just to be petty. imagine your ex is releasing an album and she gets one of your favorite musicians to play on it. and after the sweet nothing debacle too. oh. so ouchie. also she would have paul fucking mccartney on an album that’s insane in its own right

while we’re throwing spaghetti at the wall. two word title. let’s get crazy maybe 3+ words why not (this is by far the least serious prediction if the title is more than one word i’ll lose my mind)

maybe some religious imagery for the visuals? i’m trying to think of aesthetics taylor hasn’t thoroughly explored. what’s coming to mind is stained glass windows and like, the wild west. this is not at all influenced by me being raised catholic in the american southwest what are you talking about

so to sum up i think i want a pop rock opera with a title along the lines of “the blank of firstname lastname” about a woman in the wild west that has climatic scenes in a cathedral?? i guess that’s the shape i want?? i was not aware that’s what i wanted when i started writing this post okay

#asks*#i’ve thought about this for like hours sorry to keep you so long

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thebibutterflyao3 · 2 months

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Day 5 Prompt: Music @rosekiller-microfic

March Daily Series - 637 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Barty pulled his phone out again and checked it. Still nothing from Evan, or anyone else for that matter. He’d burned too many bridges.

With a resigned sigh, he tossed it on the passenger seat and started his car. It took a few attempts to get it running, but that was normal for a Ford Fiesta that was older than he was. He shifted gears, then pulled out of the pharmacy car park.

Three hours and I’ll be home.

He mashed the stereo button when he reached the outskirts of Cardiff. The overexcited voice of a football announcer filtered through and he immediately turned the dial. BBC Radio was a definite no. Only when the opening strings of Bittersweet Symphony caught his attention did he leave it.

Barty bobbed with the beat as he side-eyed the coastline. The song was a trippy blend of grunge, electronica, and orchestra that reminded him of some mash-ups that he’d heard at a club in Amsterdam. When the lyrics flowed in, he mumbled along mindlessly. It wasn’t until the chorus hit that the words settled into his chest.

No change, I can change, I can change, I can change. But I’m here in my mould. I’m here in my mould. But I’m a million different people from one day to the next. I can’t change my mould, no, no, no, no.

Barty gripped the steering wheel and tuned out the rest of the song. He did try to change, to be better for Evan. It just didn’t work. It wasn’t enough to overcome who he was.

You can’t make a meal out of rubbish, caro.

His mamma’s words weren’t about him at the time, but they fit all the same. Barty was a rubbish person and no matter what he did, nothing would change that fact. Evan deserved better than a pile of rubbish.

Evan deserves the fucking world. He wasted his time with me.

A cold sensation washed over his skin and left goosebumps in its wake. Reality was never kind to him and when it smacked him upside the head, Barty was eternally gobsmacked by the cruelty of it. He was allowed a little taste of what he wanted, then it was ripped out of his mouth like a naughty child who dared to sneak a bite of dessert. The memory of a stinging cheek felt exactly the same.

Barty bit his bottom lip until the sharp, metallic taste of his blood flowed free. He focused on the road and the stinging sensation left behind. His mind was not his friend when he was sober, but his stomach would revolt if he stopped at a pub now. Even a sandwich would be a feat to keep down.

As the road curved side to side, Creep came on the radio. This one, he sang at top volume with as much passion as he could muster for the vocalizations in the middle. It was cathartic.

“I wish I was special, you’re so fucking special. But I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo. What the hell am I doin’ here? I don’t belong here.”

The music faded out and an advertisement followed, but Barty was still repeating the chorus under his breath. If there was ever a song written specifically for him and Evan, that was the one. Barty didn’t belong anywhere, or with anyone, but Evan…Evan was everything that he wasn’t. Nothing phased him. He was the definition of unbothered most of the time.

An image of his easy grin and bright blue eyes flicked through Barty’s mind. Evan smiled more than anyone he’d ever met and his laugh — fuck, that obnoxious laugh — made Barty’s insides twist in knots. It was loud, higher pitched than his normal voice, and accompanied by breathless little gasps.

He liked Evan’s awful laugh. It was honest.

Next Part>>>

#evan x barty #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #barty x evan #barty jr #evan rosier #rosekiller #rosekiller microfic #slytherin skittles #marauders era

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uwuowotf2waslife · 1 year

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What does your husbando/waifu/nonbinary barbie-crotched S/O says about you?

TW: slight teasing,but oh well...., also nsfw themes and swearing ( sowwy)

TEAM FARTRESS 2

Scooter/weanie man: complete morosexual or the unhuman need to take care of Boston inhabitants with room temperature EQ ( en englais: you have the mommy/daddy/parent kink and you want to show that boi all the love he deserves)

Soldier: you are a human carpet ( sub) or so Dom my sibling in Christ I am terrified. You think his bravery/randomness is endearing or you got roped in by every tumblr/wattpad headcanon potraying him as the ultimate beefcake ( cant argue with you, mofo built like a brickhouse on steroids without the roids.)

Pybro: A. you are a nonbinary peep and any nb representation makes your ovaries/balls/reproductive parts COMBUst with excitment. B. intense latex/leather kink with slight burn/wax play on main. I am both afraid and faschinated by your ability to flesh out on a person we barely know the most basics of their personaility, Godspeed you allmighty bAstERD <3

eNGIe: cowboy appreciator, daddy seeker and parental figure creamer connesuer, you fell in love with the ( here ) so much you actively search and look out for the gruff, wrench handling and guitar-playing texas man of your dreams. No matter your gender or sexuality engie hits that hotspot only the daddiest of daddies hit !

Heavy: rare breed of bear enjoyer, probs an older sibling that wants to make the older sibling ( tired, unhydrated and slighty (( extremely)) in need of therapy) pair. Probably not a huge shipper since you view HeavyMedic as more of a platonic pairing, or you are of the rarest Medicx Reader x Heavy poly sandwich. Please dont hug him too tight, hell hug tired and make your eyes pop like a cheap pop eyed toy.

Demo: contrary to popular belief, you are not a bbc enjoyer/seeker, Demoman isnt just a sextoy to you. He is just the only level headed person you see in a team of morons ( for u) or manchildren with murder tendencies and well, JUST LOOK AT HIM, HE IS BUILT WITH ABBS LIKE A WASHBOARD AND LOVES HIS MOM, HE IS NOT HUSBAND MATERIAL. HE IS SOULMATE/LOVE TILL DEATH ( WONT DO YOU PART, HE KNOWS MAGIK TO RECITATE YOU) , PLEASE I SALUTE YOU YOU GLORIOUS TAVISH ENJOYER!

Medic: WE GET IT HE IS HANDSOME AND SOUNDS EITHER LIKE A CHICKEN WITH A TOP TIER DANTE DEMON OR HOT GERMAN GILF! Please dont canoodle him so hard, youll throw out his back or break his hip. Also very questionable kinks ( i see you blood kinksters). You unironically are the I cAn MakE HiM So MUch WorSE squad and you scare me.

Sniper: yes he is the ratman ofyour dreams and yes he is also really pretty, but please stop treating him like a man who aint also a hired killer. Yes he wont even think to correct his Macas orders, but he will and can make you swoon so hard you look redder than Pyros suit, mans gots that outdoors, unshowered , rugged swagg and he is rocking it harder than the fricking 80s <3 <3

Spah: yesh you have a french kink, yes you want him to whisper in your ear soft french while he btters your bagguet, probably into dilfs or gilfs in the distance because none is a dilf /suave/sensual enough for you. ( perfume isnt a shower, go to shower now, mon petit coucou

RESIDENT EVIL VILLAGE ( or the bimbofied RE4)

Lady Alcina Dimitrescu: a cis male/ a sapphic soul/trans,enby vagabond who respectfully wants to drown while motorboating he absolute units of bazoongas. Perhaps slight size kink and perhaps a person who doesnt mind a good blood slurped by their F! S/O if their tumm had the ramblies. Please dont go overboard, or youll enter the unholy assemblange of vore/stuffing kink irl

Donna Bienevento: creepypasta kid, you unironically got spooked first time you read Jeff the Killer. Probably into some questionable types of literature, hardcore horror enjoyer who also has a sanrio addiction. You have tried some kinds of handcraftmanship and might even have some hobbies that involve handiwork. I applaud you, but please dont give the basement FEOTus monster your choccy milk, itll have the zoomies and knock of angies card-castle.

Salvatore Moreau: the epitome of I can fix him! peeps, probably slight hurt/comfort enjoyer. You saw how dirty all the other treat him and you crave to make fish man happy. Both feet in monsterfuckening domain, unironically want to do the dirty while he is at monster form. Maybe you saw the Shape of Water and your brain did the thingy, but oh well, please continue on and make the lord of the reservoir the happiest fish in the sea!

Karl Heisenberg : you slimy, daddy kinked bAsterds, cant we have one game with a slight rat man with a good VA without yall flocking to him like lycans to his factory for french toast scraps??? slight bdsm enjoyer, or person who wants metal rat man happy and softened out like a soviet made breadcutter blade after a top tier professional restoration. Either way, please handle with care he may cry if you hug him the good way

The duke: an absolute chad who may or may not want to drown all your sorrows to a large, beautiful, suave man hug ( or man-thing, you never know.) You seriously deserve the world, because you be pumping fics faster than a heated political debate on Reddit. Also probably a slight hand kink, we all show those monsters at the Shadow of Rose DLC.

#tf2 fanfiction #tf2 headcanons #re8 headcanons #tw sex mention #tw bullies #tf2 fandom #tf2 facts #re8 facts #re8 shitpost #re8 lords #tf2 x reader #re8 x reader #lady alcina #donna beneviento #karl #salvatore moreau #tf2 #tf2 medic #tf2 scout

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fallingforunrealisticromance · 9 months

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High for love - Sherlock x reader

Request: "Can i request prompt #16 with BBC sherlock please? x"

Prompt: I may or may not be a tiny bit in love with you. Okay maybe a lot in love with you but that's beside the point.

A/N: I am thinking of doing a part two to this if people want? Let me know what you guys think!!

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of drug use.

PART TWO HERE

Word count: 2804.

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You ran your hands through your hair as you paced back and forth in your boyfriends apartment. You didn’t ant to dump him – well no that’s a lie otherwise you wouldn’t be doing it- but your reasoning didn’t feel valid. But surely it was better to cut it off now, rather than stringing him along the whole time? Before you could debate the subject anymore, the keys jangled in the lock and there he was.

‘hi baby’ He smiled as he dropped his bag, walking over to hug you. ‘’god I’ve missed you, work was hell. Julie, you know the one from the dinner party we went to last week, she didn’t do any of here paperwork so we were backlogged the whole day and it’s just insane-‘’

‘’Tom, can you stop for a second?’’ You blurted out, cutting him off.

You saw his brow flinch in confusion as he stepped back slightly at your tone.

‘’Is everything okay?’’ The genuine concern in his voice pulled at your heart strings.

Tom was perfect, he’s everything you could want in a guy. He was kind, compassionate, funny – he’d had you in tears from laughing so hard more times than you could count. You felt so happy when you were with him and you knew you could tell him anything and he would love you all the same. Yet here you were, about to break this poor man’s heart. And why? All because of some stupid detective you’d fallen for months ago.

‘’I need to talk to you about something’’ Your hands shook as you spoke, which of course Tom noticed.

‘’Hey you’re okay, whatever it is you know you can tell me. I’m here for you.’’ His words weren’t making this any easier.

He reached out to take your hands but the thought of him touching you right now made your stomach turn, guilt consuming you. His expression dropped when you moved away from him, clearly on edge now as well.

‘’Y/N?’’ He questioned.

You couldn’t even look at him, opting to stare at your hands instead. You took a shaky breath trying to compose yourself. ‘This is the right thing to do’ You told yourself.

‘’We need to break up.’’

It felt unreal as those words left your mouth. A heavy pause settled across the room, both of you taking in what had just been said. You glanced up at Tom, expecting him to get angry. Instead he just stared at you, a blank expression on his face.

‘’Tom?’’ you asked tentatively.

He just nodded slowly, processing what he had heard.

‘’Okay. Um, wow I wasn’t excepting that’’ He let out a shocked laugh. ‘’What changed? Did I do something?’’

You stepped towards him slightly. ‘’No, Tom, no. You were-are amazing. Truly. I’ve been so lucky to have you in my life. It’s just-‘’

You didn’t even know how to phrase it.

‘’It’s Sherlock.’’ You spat out, your face burning with shame.

You knew you hadn’t cheated, not physically. But the fact you were in love with another man while being in a relationship somehow felt like a bigger betrayal. And Tom deserved better.

‘’Your in love with him, aren’t you?’’ Tom’s voice broke through your thoughts.

You nodded, not sure what words would help the situation. You were waiting for tom to yell, telling you how awful you were before demanding you to leave. But it never came.

‘’I know you love me. That’s evident. But if I’m not the one your in love with, then I can’t stand in the way of that.’’ His tone was soft, deflated almost.

You looked up at him, seeing the sorrow laced in his eyes. It hurt to see.

‘’I’m sorry. I know it might not mean anything to you, but I truly never wanted to hurt you.’’ You said, keeping your voice low.

It almost felt wrong to break the quiet around the two of you.

‘’I know.’’ Was all he said, before hugging you tightly. The two of your stayed like that, holding each other for a while.

‘’Go and tell him then’’ Tom said, sighing slightly as he pulled away.

You chuckled stiffly at his words before grabbing your bag and heading to his door.

‘’I’ll see you around then’’ He called.

You nodded and walked out the door, a few tears welling in your eyes as you closed it behind you. What had you done? You didn’t even know if sherlock liked you back. There was a huge possibility he didn’t, actually it would be the surprise of the century if he did. Sherlock didn’t do feelings, or romantic relationships. He’s more than cable of it, but as he likes to remind you constantly, it only distracts from his work. As you were thinking this, your phone rang. Speak of the devil.

‘’Hello?’’

‘’Ah, y/n, where are you?’’ Sherlocks voice swum through the speakers.

‘’On the way home, what’s up?’’

‘’Me and john are working on a case, come over would you?’’

‘’Sherlock, I’m tired can I just help you guys out tomorrow?’’ As much as you wanted to tell him how you felt, you were worn thin emotionally right now and did not have the energy to face either him or john.

‘’What’s wrong with you? He asked sharply.

‘’Nothings wrong okay, I just want to go home and rest’’ You sighed, slightly annoyed.

‘’y/n I’ve seen you quite literally collapse from exhaustion due to helping us out before’’

‘’well god forbid I start to look after myself’’ you shot back sarcastically.

‘’No what I’m saying is, you being tired has never been an issue before. So why now? Something must be wrong?’’

You rolled your eyes at his words.

‘’Fine if you must know I just broke up with Tom. Yes I’m fine, no I don’t want to talk about it and no he didn’t do anything wrong. Now can we please talk more tomorrow?’’ You snapped, harsher than intended.

There was a pause on the other line.

‘’Did you hear me?’’

‘’What- sorry yes I got distracted. See you tomorrow’’ Sherlocks words were sharp as he hung up the phone before giving you the chance to respond.

You sighed and pocketed your phone, continuing your journey home.

**************************THE NEXT DAY***********************

You jolted upright, your eyes having no time to focus as your head whipped round searching for the cause of the noise that had disrupted your sleep. Eventually you fumbled around enough to find your phone, clicking the answer button before reading the name of the caller.

‘’What?’’ You said, your voice sounding groggy.

‘’Hello Y/N’’ A familiar voice replied.

But not one you heard often. Something was wrong.

‘’Mycroft?’’ You eyes widened, suddenly alert. ‘’What’s going on? What’s happened?’’

You heard the older Holmes sigh through the phone.

‘’My brother went missing earlier tonight and-‘’

‘’WHAT? Where is he? Is he hurt? Oh my god right I’m coming over-‘’ You scrambled to get out of your bed, dropping the phone in the process.

‘’Shit’’ You threw yourself over the side of the bed to grab it. However, you miscalculated how close you were to the edge and promptly fell off with a rather loud thud as you landed in a crumpled heap next to your phone.

‘’Ow’’ You grumbled before finally picking your phone back up. ‘’Hello? Are you still there?’’

‘’Are you quite alright? That was an awful lot of noise’’ Mycroft asked, sounding more agitated then worried but that didn’t surprise you.

‘’Yep, yes all fine. Now where the hell is sherlock? Shouldn’t you be out looking for him instead of calling me?’’

‘’Well as I was saying before you interrupted me, we’ve already found him. He’s been taken back home and is currently with John.’’ Mycroft continued.

You furrowed your brow in confusion.

‘’Then why are you calling me? You do know it’s literally 3 in the morning. I was sleeping’’ You shuffled on the floor so you could lean back up against your bed, still feeling the tiredness wash over you.

‘’He may be home but he isn’t exactly…well, sober’’ The unease was evident in Mycroft’s tone as he spoke.

Even though he would probably deny it at any turn, he cared for sherlock deeper than he’d ever cared for anything. As did sherlock for Mycroft. They truly wouldn’t be the same without each other, even if they were both too stubborn to admit to it.

‘’What can I do?’’ You said with a sigh.

‘’Go and talk to him. He seems to trust you. Possibly even more than he does john Find out why he’s using again’’

You held your head in your hands. You hated seeing sherlock high. It hurt you to see him resort to such methods. Even if it was for a case. That man was willing to dance with death in order to prove he’s right about something.

‘’Okay’’ You replied reluctantly.

‘’There will be a car outside for you. Update me as soon as you can.’’ And with that, he hung up.

You took a few minutes to compose yourself, before getting up. You decided against getting changed, you figured showing up in some plaid pyjama trousers and the black vest top you’d fallen asleep in would suffice. You grabbed a jacket before slipping on your trainers and heading out of your flat. Sure enough when you got to the lobby of your apartment building, there was a sleek black car waiting to take you to Baker Street.

The whole ride there you were thinking about what to stay. I mean what exactly are you mean to say to someone who’s probably higher than the Eiffel tower right now. Even now as you stood waiting for someone to open the door, you were coming up empty.

‘’Oh y/n hello dear!’' '

’Mrs. Hudson greeted you warmly as she opened the door for you. ‘’Hi Mrs. Hudson. How are you?’’ You smiled at her.

You’d always been rather fond of her. She was endlessly kind towards you, welcoming you with open arms without any hesitation.

‘’I’m good thank you. You haven’t been round in a while. Come in, come in. We don’t need you freezing on the doorstep now do we.’’ She ushered you in closing the door behind you.

‘’No, I know things have been a bit mental at work lately, I’ve been meaning to swing by. I’m sorry it has to be in the middle of the night. I’m sure you don’t appreciate being woken up by all this.’’ You gesture up the stairs as you spoken.

She just shook her head. ‘’Nonsense darling, I don’t mind at all. You’re welcome at any time. As for Sherlock, well all I can say is at least he isn’t shooting my wall to pieces again.’’ She chuckled as she spoke. ‘’You’d better get up there, see if you can talk any sense into him’’

You nodded, looking towards the stairs ‘’Yeah, I guess. I’ll see you in a bit’’ You took a deep breath, before walking upstairs.

Sherlock must have heard you because suddenly you heard his voice calling your name rather excitedly. You went to open his door but he’d clearly got there before you, flinging it open. ‘

’Y/n, you’re here! John look, it’s y/n’’ Sherlock grinned at you, his eyes wide.

‘’Yeah I can see that, I’m not blind’’ john retorted from behind the detective.

‘’Hi’’ You said, chuckling nervously.

‘’You’re bloody amazing you know that?’’ Sherlock said.

You went to reply but were cut off by Sherlocks arms wrapping around you, pulling your body close to his as he rested his head on your shoulder. You let out a gasp as your arms hung awkwardly by your side. What the fuck had he taken? Just as quickly as the hug had begun, it was over as he pulled away from you still smiling. He turned and walked back into his apartment, focusing on some paper work spread out on his desk. You just stood there, a shocked expression smacked across your face.

‘’You okay there?’’ John asked, shaking you slightly. You blinked at him before nodding your head.

‘’What has gotten into him? Well drugs apparently, but he’s never normally this…’’

‘’Happy? Elevated? Fucking insane?’’ john suggested, looking over at the man who was now in a heated discussion with a skull that he kept on the fireplace.

‘’Yeah. I mean usually when he’s been caught high, he’s all grumpy and just curls up in a ball probably hoping we all shut up and leave him alone. But this, this is new’’

‘’are you saying you prefer the moody, short tempered bastard version of these events?’’ John asked raising an eyebrow at you.

You watched Sherlock move around the flat rather erratically, a feeling of discomfort forming a pit in your stomach.

‘’I don’t know yet’’ You replied honestly.

‘Ah y/n, come here’’ Sherlock waved you over to him, where he was now sat back down at his desk.

You shrugged your jacket off walking over to him, leaning against the desk.

‘’You need something?’’ You asked him, folding your arms.

He broke his gaze away from his laptop, looking up at you. His eyes took their time gazing over your figure making you shuffle nervously under his stare.

‘’You truly are beautiful you know.’’ His words sounded so genuine, you were taken a back. ‘’Anyway, I needed to ask you something but I forgot what it was. I’m sure it’ll come back to me’’ And with that, he shrugged and immediately went back to typing away on his laptop.

You just stared down at him. Sherlock never complimented you, or if he did the most you got was a short ‘’well done’’ or ‘’good job’’. He had never commented on your appearance, only ever on your work and he had most certainly never called you beautiful.

‘’AH’’ Sherlock clapped his hands together, making you jump. ‘’that’s what I was going to say, I remember now. It’s not a question mind you.’’ You rolled your eyes, slowly getting more agitated.

‘’What was it then?’’

‘’I may or may not be a tiny bit in love with you. Okay maybe a lot in love with you but that’s besides the point’’

For about the third time that night, you were stunned to silence. What. The. Fuck. There was no way you had just heard him say that.

‘’I need a drink do you want anything?’’ Sherlock asked as he got up and walked to the kitchen.

That’s when reality hit you. He didn’t mean it, he was high. It was just the drugs elevating his mood. He cared for you, you knew that. But now with whatever he’s taken he clearly thinks he loves you But he doesn’t. He’s made it perfectly clear in the past how he feels about love and relationships. Maybe he’d picked up that you had feelings for him and was now using them against you as some kind of joke? It wouldn’t surprise you. You’re heart sank as you faced the reality of the situation.

‘’Fuck you man’’ You mumbled as you moved yourself away from the desk.

‘’What?’’ Sherlock turned to see you with your back to him, standing by the sofa. ‘’Was that to me?’’

‘’Well it sure as shit wasn’t to john’’ You snapped, running your fingers through your hair.

‘’What did I do?’’ Sherlock asked. For the first time this evening, he looked sober. He looked like him again.

‘’You know what you did, you prick. Look it might be all a joke and funny to you now because you decided to go and inject fuck knows what into your body yet again – but the way I feel is not something I’m letting you mess with. Not anymore.’’ You grabbed your jumper, throwing it on before heading to the door.

‘Y/n wait please-‘’

‘’Make sure to tell Mycroft what you took. He wants to know’’ You said before heading down the stairs and rushing out the door, tears slipping down your face.

Your phone rang in your pocket. You knew it was sherlock and you had no interest of talking to him. Not now, or any time soon. First Tom, and now this. You were exhausted and you didn’t want to deal with any men for the foreseeable future. But part of you wondered, what if he’d meant it? Was there any way he truly could love you? You shook your head dismissing your thoughts. No, he wasn’t thinking straight. By the morning he probably won’t even remember what it is he said to you. What a fun conversation that would be. But you would deal with that later. For now all you wanted to do was go home, curl up, fall asleep and forget about the rather handsome detective.

#bbc sherlock #sherlock bbc #sherlock reader insert #sherlock x reader #sherlockbbc #sherlock holmes #x reader #angst #benedict cumberbatch

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malereader-inserts · 1 year

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Rewiring My Heart

Fandom: BBC Sherlock Pairing: Mycroft Holmes x Male!Reader Summary: There's a certain someone that's caught Mycroft's attention Word Count: 614 Request: @thisirishidiot Hi, so I would like to request a mycroft x male reader story where male reader is the head electrician and, for some reason, all of Parliament has to be rewired. And reader happens to be working in mycrofts area and so mycroft catches feelings. Maybe reader is tall and fit or maybe just good looking. You know I'm a sucker for a good flustered mycroft. Anyway I understand if you don't want to, hope have a nice day!

"Good morning, Mr Holmes."

Mycroft grimace to himself before turning around to the voice, "Good morning (Y/n), how many times have I told you that you can call me Mycroft."

You give him a smile, "I know."

Mycroft nods before slipping into his office and leaning back on his door, he sighed. It's not like he hated you, it was quite the opposite. He liked you, and he couldn't say much about other people. But, you, you were different and he couldn't figure it out. In fact, what he hated was the fact he saw you daily.

When he heard that his work base had to be completely rewired he was annoyed, after two years, the British Government had to rewire the whole building to prevent any hackers in the future. There were many men that were trusted to do the job, many had worked for the Government before so these men were to be trusted to Mycroft's knowledge.

But, you were someone else. You were the head of the operation, having worked with these men rewiring the building and with the Government. Hell, you were hand pick by MI5 for this job. You were smart, Mycroft knew this and it made his knees go weak.

There was a knock on his door, he looks up from his paperwork, "Come in!"

The door opens slightly as you popped your head through. Your eyes meet Mycroft as your eyes sparkle when you grinned at him. Mycroft cleared his throat, hastily looking back down at the paperwork. He's decided to ignore the thumping noise in his ears, if he ignores that then they don't exist, right?

"Sorry to bother you, Mycroft, I've been told that I'm working in your office today," You informed him, "Though, it shouldn't hinder you, after all, you're one of the few that does everything by hand."

"It's easier," Mycroft spoke icily, but that doesn't deter you as you slowly enter the office before shutting his door, "All that computer nonsense is too complicated."

"I could always teach ya," You say, offhandedly as you were setting up, "It's really not that complicated as you think."

Mycroft looks up to you, but he had noticed that you were focused on setting up today's agenda. He smiles to himself, feeling the burn of his cheek slowly going down to his neck, he hopes you don't look his way as he knows he's clearly blushing.

"Perhaps, I'll take you up on the offer," Mycroft said, eventually, you turned your head to him and Mycroft swears his heart stopped working for a second, "After all, you're the only one out of those men I'd trust."

"Yeah, I figured," You nodded, "It's why I offered to be rewiring in your office, I don't even trust those men."

"So, you know I trust you?"

"It's painfully obvious to know who you like and who you don't."

"Ah," Mycroft finished, cursing himself for being too obvious - he's usually better than this. And, he knows who is the cause of him not having his guard up.

"So, what day do you want to spend all day learning?"

"I thought it wasn't complicated? Why would it spend all day learning?"

"Oh, well, I was hoping to get dinner with you afterwards," You smile wolfishly at him before turning away.

"Oh," Mycroft stammers, "I'll give you a date when I am free."

"Grand, it's a date then."

And if Mycroft stopped breathing at the moment, his mind short-circuiting and his heart skipped a beat, no it didn't - he refused to admit that.

Mycroft looked back at you before looking back at his papers, what on earth has he gotten himself into?

#sherlock bbc imagine #bbc sherlock #mycroft x male reader #mycroft imagine #mycroft holmes imagine #x male reader

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