#guardian news paper

[amandiamara]

SitaAlexandra comes back with Empire

#sita Alexandra #Empire #SitaAlexandra New Song #empire by Sita Alexandra #Alexandrasita #sitaalexandramusic #sitaalexandra #Alexandra sita #guardian #guardian news paper #guardian SitaAlexandra #guardian empire #Afro beat #pop music #African songs #trending Videos #trendingartists #trendingmusic #trending songs

[hiveswap]

OUGH. theyre gonna really end a superhero comic with a tolstoy quote thematically accurate enough to kill on impact.

#I started reading these because i was interested in the guardians after the 3rd film and didnt wanna interact with the mcu... #and now i have a new absolute wet paper towel poor meow meow with every disease known and unknown to man #he would have won most mentally ill bitch on the block prize during the annihilation war but hes gotten 100 times worse over the 8 years #6 of them spent in basically hell #other two spent carrying an entire space army's/alien planet's legacy alone through several wars #holy shit dude get space therapy. or whatever. #also sam really nearly went and got stuck with him in the cancerverse huh. #i guess the nova helments only work on people who are reckless and self sacrificial and only have one functional braincell #he didnt have to do all that for a deeply deeply fucked up guy twice his age who hes just met. famous freshly not dead hero or not #marvelcomics #sam alexander

[mlp410nightcore]

Hi Everyone!! I decided to give myself a little art challenge by creating 8 of my favorite characters from my favorite shows, video games, etc. Here we have in no particular order Samurai Jack from Samurai Jack, Queen Eclipsa Butterfly from Star Vs The Forces Of Evil, Isabelle from Animal Crossing: New Horizons, Usagi Tsukino (Sailor Moon and Princess Serenity) from Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Itward from Fran Bow, The Warden from Superjail, Sergiu from Papers Please and Nami from One Piece. Credit goes to Cynicalhoodiebases for making the base and to the creators of all the shows and video games that I mentioned for making these characters and the shows and video games that they are from. I only take credit for my art. I hope you guys like this!!!

#mlp fim #mlp fanart #samurai jack #star vs the forces of evil #animal crossing new horizons #pretty guardian sailor moon #fran bow #superjail #papers please #one piece #artists on tumblr #my art

[gobcorend]

"Violence is initiated by those who oppress, who exploit, who fail to recognize others as people - not by those who are oppressed, exploited, and unrecognized. It is not the unloved who initiate disaffection, but those who cannot love because they love only themselves (...) Force is used not by those who have become weak under the preponderance of the strong, but by the strong who have emasculated them."

Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Paulo Freire

#us politics #israel #us news #free palestine #palestine #free gaza #gaza strip #freepalastine🇵🇸 #we stand with palestine #violence #gaza #news paper #Politics #the guardian #quotes #phrases #book quotes #booklr #pedagogy of the oppressed #oppressed #spilled ink

[denimbex1986]

'Pre-release expectations were already “stratospheric”, but the unlikely pairing of “Barbie” and “Oppenheimer” around the world has “helped fuel the biggest collective weekend at the box office since the pandemic”, said Rebecca Rubin in Variety – music to the ears of their respective film studios, Warner Bros. Discovery and Universal, and a potential lifeline for beleaguered cinema chains.

The “Barbenheimer” cultural craze, which began as a meme on the internet, stoked US sales of $82.4m for the biopic about “the father of the atomic bomb”, while Barbie pulled in $162m. Warner Bros. reckons that’s just the start, observing: “This doll will indeed have long long legs.” Shares in AMC Entertainment soared, said Anita Ramaswamy on Reuters Breakingviews as record-breaking sales suggested that the US cinema chain would survive.

On this side of the Atlantic, both Vue and Odeon reported a “booking frenzy”, said Dominic Walsh in The Times. A remarkable 23% of Vue’s customers bought tickets for both movies at the same time. The two films took £30m at the box office in their opening weekend in Britain, making it the most successful weekend for British cinemas since 2019.

With the verdicts now in, here’s what the film critics said about the blockbuster double act…

Barbie review **** “Anthropologists believe there may be tribes living in the farthest reaches of the Amazon” who missed the marketing campaign for Greta Gerwig’s $145m, Mattel-sponsored Barbie movie, but the rest of us had our eyeballs melted by it for weeks, said Robbie Collin in The Daily Telegraph. So it’s an “unexpected pleasure” to report that it’s not the “blunt-force cash grab many of us feared. In fact, it’s deeply bizarre, conceptually slippery and often roar-out-loud hilarious.”

Margot Robbie is perfectly cast as “Stereotypical Barbie”, a “habitually smiley creature” whose life in Barbieland (a fantasy world in which multiple different Barbies hold sway) is disrupted when she finds herself “haunted by thoughts of sadness, anxiety and death”, said Mark Kermode in The Observer. “Worse still, she develops flat feet and (whisper it!) cellulite – two horsemen of the Barbie apocalypse.” A visit to Kate McKinnon’s “Weird Barbie” (“She was played with too hard”) reveals that a wormhole has opened between Barbieland and the real world. So our heroine must venture there, accompanied by Ken (Ryan Gosling), who learns that the real world is dominated by something called “The Patriarchy”, which, having always been in thrall to Barbie, he rather likes. It all adds up to a “riotously entertaining candy-coloured feminist fable”.

I saw the film with my 20-year-old daughter who loved it, said Sarah Vine in the Daily Mail. Me, not so much. “My main criticism, actually, has nothing to do with the subject matter.” Barbie or no Barbie, it’s just not a very good film. It is uneven and disjointed, and “deeply anti-man”. Every male character is “an idiot, a bigot or a sad, rather pathetic loser”, and women’s liberation is framed “not as a movement based on achieving equality between the sexes, but as a cultural revenge vehicle”.

Seeking to both satirise and celebrate Barbie, the film falls into what one critic has called the “reflexivity trap”, said Adrian Horton in The Guardian: the idea that acknowledging a fault absolves you of that fault. So it sends up Mattel, but Mattel will profit very nicely from it. The result is a film that, for all its buoyancy and fun, “feels stuck in a loop of intense self-awareness”.

Oppenheimer review **** “Oppenheimer” is billed “as a biopic of theoretical physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer”, said Wendy Ide in The Observer. “But ‘biopic’ seems too small a word to contain the ambition and scope of Christopher Nolan’s formidable if occasionally unwieldy” film about the so-called “father of the atomic bomb”. Although this “dense and intricate period piece” weaves together “courtroom drama, romantic liaisons, laboratory epiphanies and lecture hall personality cults”, it is perhaps most of all a “monster movie”. Cillian Murphy’s Oppenheimer is “an atomic-age Frankenstein, a man captivated by the boundless possibilities of science” who realises too late that his creation has a limitless capacity for destruction. “Murphy’s far-seeing ice-chip eyes have never been put to better use.”

Jumping between several timelines, the film follows “Oppie” from the 1920s and into old age, said Manohla Dargis in The New York Times. And though its all-star cast is distracting (Matt Damon, Robert Downey Jr, Gary Oldman, Kenneth Branagh and others pop up), it builds into a “brilliant” drama about “genius, hubris and error”.

It wasn’t the “instant masterpiece” I was hoping for, said Matthew Bond in The Mail on Sunday. The script feels “overpolished”; and the “coda that follows the Trinity test explosion and the attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki is a definite slog”. It’s also a shame that female characters are so peripheral, said Radhika Seth in Vogue. Oppenheimer’s wife (Emily Blunt) is a “lipsticked blur”; and we learn virtually nothing about his lover Jean Tatlock (Florence Pugh) other than that she’s “emotionally turbulent” and hates flowers. The women are a bit “one-dimensional”, said Christina Newland in The i Paper. There’s also a lot of “clanging” historical name-dropping (“What’s this place called? Los Alamos”, etc.). But the film survives its flaws, which “is testament to the fascinating material and the might of its performances”.'

#Barbie #Oppenheimer #Christopher Nolan #Greta Gerwig #Mail on Sunday #Vogue #Robert Downey Jr. #Gary Oldman #Kenneth Branagh #The i Paper #The New York Times #Emily Blunt #The Observer #The Guardian #Ryan Gosling #Kate McKinnon #The Times #Barbenheimer #Variety

[laisai]

Tell me again that the two parties are the same?

#current events #news #uspol #ik the guardian has got TERFs in charge #but i heard the u.s. version has a different editor who supports trans rights #so i only link to their u.s. stuff #plus its hard to find a relatively moderate-left paper without paywalls #moderate outside the us and uk i guess

[ralfmaximus]

Two things — check that, three things — appear to have gone off the rails at the paper we used to call the Gray Lady. First, whoever is in charge of the paper’s polls is not doing their job. Second, whoever is choosing what to emphasize in Times coverage of the campaign for the presidency is showing bias. Third, the Times is obsessed with Joe Biden’s age at the same time they’re leaving evidence of Donald Trump’s mental and verbal stumbles completely out of the news. Let’s start right there. At a rally on Saturday night in Virginia, Trump confused Barack Obama, who left office seven years ago, with President Biden for the third time over the last six months. “Putin has so little respect for Obama that he’s starting to throw around the nuclear word,” Trump said, as his crowd of rabid supporters suddenly fell silent. “You heard that. Nuclear. He’s starting to talk nuclear weapons today.” You won’t find that verbal stumble and the crowd’s stunned reaction in the Times coverage of the campaign over the weekend. You’ll have to read other publications — for example, Salon or maybe the Guardian — if you want to learn how often Trump is losing his way mid-sentence at rallies and just mumbling incoherently.

The article also explores a recent Times poll favoring Trump that is so insanely, obviously inaccurate that it reads like parody.

The NYT is definitely in the bag for Trump, same as 2016.

#new york times #2024

[redgoldsparks]

I wrote a 12 page epilogue to my 2019 comic "Harry Potter and The Problematic Author" because I found, in 2023, that I had more to say. You can also find this comic on my website, and I have PDF copies available on etsy. I may sell print copies at some point in the future.

instagram / patreon / portfolio / etsy / my book / redbubble

Full transcript below the cut.

PAGE 1

Part one: Ruddy Owls!

I was in fourth grade when the first Harry Potter Book was released in the US.

Panel 1: Sometimes our teacher would read it aloud in class. “Mr and Mrs Dursley of number 4 Privat Drive were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much…”

Panel 2: I was 11 years old when Harry Potter finally broke through my dyslexia and turned me into a reader.

Panel 3: Every night in the summer before sixth grade I waited for the owl carrying my Hogwarts Letter. I cried when it didn’t come. “I have to go to Muggle school!”

PAGE 2

Part Two: Hats

I dedicated myself to being a fan.

Panel 1: I began collecting Harry Potter News article.

Panel 2: I asked my relatives to mail me ones from their local papers. I filled a thick binder with clippings.

Panel 3: I wrote my own trivia quiz

Panel 4: and participated in the one held annually at the county fair. “Next contestant!”

Panel 5: I usually got into one of. the top five spots. I won boxes of candy, posters, stationary, and once a baseball cap. (Hat reads: I survived the battle of Hogwarts).

Panel 6: In high school I sewed a black velvet cape and knitted many stripped scarves.

PAGE 3

Part Three: Double Trouble

Watching the last film in 2011 felt like the final note of my childhood. 

Panel 1: I remember driving home from the midnight showing thinking about the end of 13 years of waiting; wondering what would define the next chapter of my life. 

Panel 2: That same month I heard of something called Pottermore. “Okay, so there’s a sorting quiz… I already know my house! Patronus assignment? Mine’s a barn owl. Duh!" 

Panel 3: You can read the books again but with GIFs? Why? 

Panel 4: I lived in a place with very slow and limited internet at the time. Pottermore sounded inaccessible, but also boring. I never joined. 

Panel 5: "I’ll just read the actual books again, thanks." 

PAGE 4

Part Four: Sweets

In 2016, a series of short stories titled "History of Magic in North America” were released on Pottermore to pave the way for the first Fantastic Beasts Film. These stories display an extreme ignorance of American history, culture, and geography, but the worst parts are the casual misuse of indigenous beliefs and stories. Fans and critics immediately spoke up against this appropriation. Some of the most quoted voices included Nambe Pueblo scholar Dr. Debbie Reese who runs the site “American Indians In Children’s Literature”; Navajo writer Brian Young; Johnnie Jae (Otoe-Missouria and Choctaw), founder of A Tribe Called Geek; Dr Adrienne Keene (Cherokee Nation), a Professor at Brown University who runs the blog “Native Appropriations”, and writers N.K. Jemison and Paula Young Lee.

PAGE 5

Rowling is famous for responding to fans directly on twitter, yet she did not respond to anyone calling out the damaging aspects of “Magic in North America.” Her representatives refused to comment for March 9 2016 article in the Guardian. She has never apologized. All of this, plus the casting of Johnny Depp and the specific declarations of support by JKR, Warner Brothers, and director David Yates left a sour taste in my mouth.

For further thoughts on the new films read The Crimes of Grindelwald is a Mess by Alanna Bennett for Buzzfeed News, November 16, 2018.

PAGE 6

Excerpt from Colonialism in Wizarding American: JK Rowling’s History of Magic in North America Through an Indigenous Lens by Allison Mills, MFA, MAS/MLIS (Cree and Settler French Canadian)

Although Rowling is certainly not the first white author to misstep in her treatment of Indigenous cultures, she has an unprecedented level of visibility and fame, […] One of the most glaring problems with Rowling’s story is her treatment of the many Indigenous nations in North America as one monolithic group. […It] flattens out the diversity of languages, belief systems, and cultures that exist in Indigenous communities, allowing stereotyping to persist. […] It continues a long history of colonial texts which ignore that Indigenous peoples still exist. […] In the Wizarding world, as in the real world, Indigenous histories have been over-written and our cultures erased.

from The Looking Glass: New Perspectives in Children’s Literature Volumn 19, Issue 1

PAGE 7

Part 5: Music

Panel 1: Also in 2016 I discovered two podcasts which radically altered my experience of being an HP fan. The first was Witch Please created by two Canadian feminist literary scholars Hannah McGregor and Marcelle Kosman.

Panel 2: “If it’s not in the text it doesn’t count!” “Close reading ONLY!”

Panel 3: They talk about Harry Potter at the level you’d expect in a college class with particular focus on gender, race, class, and the troubling fatphobia, fear of othered and queer coded bodies, violence against women, white feminism, gaslighting and failed pedagogy in the books. They bring up these issues not because they hate the series, but because they LOVE it.

PAGE 8

These passionate, joyful conversations went off like fireworks in my mind. I had never taken a feminist class before. I gained a whole new vocabulary to talk about the books- and the world.

PAGE 9

Panel 1: The second podcast I started that year was Harry Potter and the Sacred Text, created by two graduates of the Harvard Divinity School, Vanessa Zoltan and Casper Ter Kuile.

Panel 2: They read one chapter per episode through a theme such as love, control, curiosity, shame, responsibility, hospitality, destruction, or mystery. Like Witch Please, they are interested only in the information on the page, not thoughts from the author. The delights and failures of the text are examined in the context of the present day, and new meanings constantly arise.

PAGE 10

What does it mean to treat a text as sacred?

Trusting that the more time we give to it, the more blessings it has to give us.

Reading the text repeatedly with concentrated attention. Our effort is part of what makes it sacred. The text is not in and of itself sacred, but is made so by rigorously engaging in the ritual of reading.

Experiencing it in community.

“To me, the goal of treating the text as sacred is that we learn to treat each other as sacred.” -Vanessa Zoltan

PAGE 11

Part 6: Tooth and Claw

In October 2017, Rowling liked a tweet linking to an article arguing that trans women should be kept out of women’s bathrooms because of cisgender women’s fears. In March 2018, she liked a tweet about the problem of misogyny in the UK Labour Party which included the line “Men in dresses get brosocialist solidarity I never had.” The author of the tweet had previously posted many blatantly anti-trans statements.

Rowlings publicist claimed she had liked the posted by accident in a “clumsy and middle-aged moment.” Yet, in September 2018 she liked a link posted by Janice Turner to her column in the Times UK titled “Trans Rapists Are A Danger In Women’s Jails.”

Screencaps of these tweets can be found in the article “The Mysterious Case of JK Rowling and her Transphobic Twitter History”, January 10 2019 by Gwendolyn Smith (a trans journalist), LGBTQNation.com

PAGE 12

Excerpt from: Is JK Rowling Transphobic? A Trans Woman Investigates by Katelyn Burns

Ultimately, the answer is yes, she is transphobic […] I think it’s fair that she receives criticism from trans people, especially given her advocacy on behalf of queer people in general, but also because she has a huge platform. Many people look up to her for creating a singular piece of popular culture that holds deep meaning for fans from different walks of life, and she has a responsibility to handle that platform wisely. (Published on them.us March 28, 2018)

PAGE 13

Part 7: Home

At age 30, I’m still not over Harry Potter.

Panel 1: I’ve recently found a local bar that does HP trivia nights. “Poppy or Pomona?” “Poppy!”

Panel 2: I currently own an annual pass to Universal Studios so I can visit Hogsmeade.

Panel 3: I love talking to kids who are reading the books for the first time. “Who’s your favorite character?” “Ginny!”

Panel 4: And I’m planning a relisten to the audio books to next year to help me get through the election cycle. “Jim Dale, I’m going to need you more than ever…”

Spoiler from 2023: I did not do this. By mid-2020 JKR had posted her transphobic essay; we were in covid; I never visited Universal Studios again.

PAGE 14

But I do want to learn from her mistakes. I never want to repeat “Magic in North America.” As I write, I will do my research. I will consult experts and compensate them. If a reader from a different culture/background than me speaks up about my work, I will listen and apologize. I KNOW I WILL MAKE MISTAKES. But I will own up to them and I will do better.

PAGE 15

Excerpt from Diversity Is Not Enough: Race, Power and Publishing by Daniel José Older

We can love a thing and still critique it. In fact, that’s the only way to really love a thing. Let’s be critical lovers and loving critics and open ourselves to the truth about where we are and where we’ve been. Instead of holding tight to the same old, failed patriarchies, let’s walk a new road, speak new languages. Today, let’s imagine a literature, a literary world, that carries this struggle for equity in its very essence, so that tomorrow it can cease to be necessary, and disappear. (Buzzfeed, April 14, 2017) 

PAGE 16

Harry Potter is flawed, & JK Rowling is problematic. But the books helped me learn a lot: 

*One of the greatest dangers facing the modern world is the rise of fascism 

*The government cannot be trusted 

*Read and think critically

*Question the news: who paid the journalist? Who owns the paper? 

*Trust and support your friends through good times and bad

*Organize for resistance

*Educate and share resources with peers

*The revolution must be diverse and intersectional

* We are only as strong as we are united

*The weapon we have is love 

MK 2019

PAGE 17

PART 8: EPILOGUE

In 2021 I removed a Harry Potter patch I sewed to my book bag over a decade ago. I took 15 pieces of Harry Potter fanart off my walls. I got rid of my paperback book set, 2 board games, and 8 t-shirt. [images: a Hogwarts a patch with loose threads, a pair of scissors and a seam ripper]

Panel 1: Maia holding up a shirt with the Deathly Hallows logo on it. Maia thinks: “Damn, this really used to be my entire personality.”

Panel 2: The t-shirt gets thrown into the Goodwill box.

PAGE 18

I wrote my zine wrestling with JKR’s legacy in 2019, after her dismissive and racist reaction to indigenous fans and critics of “Magic in North America” and after she had liked a couple transphobic tweets. Since then, she has gotten so much worse.

A Brief Timeline (mostly from this Vox article)

June 2020- JKR posts a 3600 word essay making her anti-trans position clear

August 2020- The Robert F Kennedy Human Rights Org issues a statement about her transphobia, JKR doubles down on her position and returns an award they gave her

December 2020- JKR claims 90% of HP fans secretly agree with her anti-trans views

December 2021- JKR mocks Scottish Police for recognizing transgender identities

March 2022- JKR criticizes gender-inclusive language and legislation

December 2022- JKR retweets trans youtuber Jessie Earl’s critical review of Hogwarts Legacy, starting an onslaught of transphobic harassment towards Earl

December 2022- JKR removes her support from an Edinburgh center for survivors of sexual violence with a trans-inclusive policy and funds her own center which explicitly excludes trans sexual assault survivors

January 2023- JKR tweets “Deeply amused by those telling me I’ve lost their admiration due to disrespect I show violent, duplicitous rapists.” It got nearly 300K likes

March 2023- One the podcast “The Witch Trials of JK Rowling”, hosted by a former Westboro Baptist Church Member, JKR compares the trans rights movement to Death Eaters.

PAGE 19

What are The Witch Trials of JK Rowling?

Panel 1: Maia speaking. “It’s a 7 episode documentary style podcast hosted by Megan Phelps-Roper. Nearly every episode contains interviews with JKR as well as critics, journalists, historians, protestors and fans.

Panel 2: Maia speaking. “In episode 1, JKR speaks more candidly than she has previously about being in an abusive marriage. Her ex-husband hit her, stalked her, broke into her house overlapping with the time she was writing the first three HP books.”

Panel 3: Maia speaking. “What she went through genuinely sounds horrific. I have a lot of sympathy for the kind of life-long traumas those experiences leave.”

PAGE 20

HOWEVER.

It is clear from reading the June 2020 essay on her blog and listening to the podcast, that JKR still to this day feels unsafe. Despite her wealth and privilege she moves through the world with the mindset of a victim. And the group of people she finds most threatening are trans women.

Or rather, she is afraid that allowing trans women in women’s spaces invites the possibility of male predators entering those spaces.

Here’s a direct quote: The problem is male violence. All a predator wants is access and to open the doors of changing rooms, rape centers, domestic violence centers [...] to any male who says “I’m a woman and I have a right to be here” will constitute a risk to women and girls. - from The Witch Trials episode 4 as transcribed by therowlinglibrary.com, March 2023

Image: A stem of Belladonna with flowers and berries.

PAGE 21

Let me introduce here the term: TRANSMISOGYNY. The intersection of transphobia and misogyny, this term was coined by Julia Serano in 2007. Scout Tran, on tiktok as Queersneverdie said: “Transmisogyny occurs in people who have been previously hurt by traditional misogyny. Who have been driven to hate men or at the very least to be scared of men. They will sometimes take out that rage on trans women. (March 2023)

JKR claims to care for trans women and understand they are extremely vulnerable to assault and violence. In her 2020 Essay she wrote: “I want trans women to be safe. At the same time, I do not want to make natal girls and women less safe.”

So she cares about trans women… just less than cis women, and she’s willing to throw all trans women under the bus because of her unfounded, prejudice fears.

PAGE 22

Panel 1: Maia speaking. “JKR claims to have seen data that proves trans women have presented physical threats to other women in intimate spaces, but never cites sources. She also uses “producer of the large gametes” as a definition of “woman”.

What about transmen and nonbinary folks?

Panel 2: Maia leaning on a stack of all seven HP books, the first four Cormorant Strike books and The Casual Vacancy, gesturing to a series of quotes with a tired and disgusted expression.

I’m concerned about the huge explosion of young women wishing to transition and also about the increasing numbers who seem to be detransitioning. * [...] If I’d been born 30 years later, I too might have tried to transition. The allure of escaping womanhood would have been huge. -June 10 2020 essay

I don’t believe a 14 year old can truly understand what the loss of their fertility is.

-Witch Trials episode 4

I haven’t yet found a study that hasn’t found that the majority of young people experiencing gender dysphoria grow out of it*. -Witch Trials episode 7

*No sources cited

PAGE 23

It’s hard to over emphasize how fixated JKR has become on these topics. As of the date I’m writing this, 14 out of her 20 most recent tweets (70%) are in some way anti-trans. She tweets against Mermaids (a UK based trans youth charity), against trans athletes, against gender neutral bathrooms, and in support of LBG Alliance- a UK org that denies trans rights while upholding gay rights. Here are some gems from her archive:

“People who menstruate.” I’m sure there used to be a word for those people. Someone help me out. Wumben? Wimpund? Woomud? -June 2020

War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength. The Penised Individual Who Raped You Is a Woman. - December 2021

And in response to someone asking “How do you sleep at night knowing you lost a whole audience?”

I read my most recent royalty cheques and find the pain goes away pretty quickly. -October 2022

PAGE 24

Hashtag Ruthless Productions a queer nerd podcast company created a great guide on ethical engagement with HP. Image: the two hosts of Hashtag Ruthless productions, Jessie (They/she) and Lark (he/him).

Stop buying all official HP Products: books, movies, games, toys, etc, Universal Studios tickets, food, merch.* Boycott any new TV series or movies. Instead: buy the books and DVDs used. If you still want to wear HP merch, buy fan-made. Engage only with fan content: fic, podcasts, fanart, wizard rock, etc. Show transphobia is bad for business. None of this will change JKR’s mind. But the Fantastic Beast series was canceled and after record Pottermore sales in 2020, they fell in 2022 by 40%.

*She gets a portion of ALL tickets. In 2019, this was her largest income source. Read the full guide: hashtagruthless.com/resourceguide

PAGE 25

As late as 2019, I was still reading JKR’s murder mystery series. But by the fourth book my experience began to sour.

Panel 1: Maia holding a copy of Lethal White. “The only gay character in this book is a government official who gropes his staff?”

Panel 2: “The only genderqueer character is misgendered and portrayed as a whiny faker?”

Panel 3: “The only Muslim character is disowned by his family over gay rumors?”

Panel 4: “Even the women aren’t portrayed very well…”

Panel 5: “Why is the main female character defined by the rape in her past?”

Panel 6: “Wait, what happens in the rest of this series…?” Maia scrolls on eir phone.

Panel 7: “Is the series heading towards an employee/boss relationship?”

Panel 8: “And has a man wearing women’s clothes to commit assault?”

Panel 9: “Yeah, I’m done. I’m never reading a new JKR book ever again.”

PAGE 26

And as for JKR herself?

As tempting as it might be to tweet your frustrations at her, I don’t recommend it. In 2021, she tweeted, “Hundreds of trans activists have threatened to beat, rape, assassinate and bomb me.” Getting hate online feeds her sense of victimhood and she waves it as proof of her moral high ground. Instead I suggest you block her on twitter, then delete twitter, go to the library and try to find a new book that feels magical.

Stack of books: In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan, The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater, Gifts by Ursula K Le Guin, Deep Wizardry by Diane Duane, A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik and Gideon the Ninth by Tamsin Muir.

PAGE 27

In “Emergent Strategy” adrienne maree brown writes: You do not have the right to traumatize abusive people, to attack them, personally or publicly, or to sabotage anyone else’s health. The behaviors of abuse are also survival-based, learned behaviors rooted in pain. If you can look through the lens of compassion, you will find hurt and trauma there. If you are the abused party, healing that hurt is not your responsibility and exacerbating that pain is not your justified right.

PAGE 28

Seeing anyone over age 12 wearing HP merch now makes me uncomfortable. Are they ignorant or actively a TERF? I hate wondering how much money JKR has probably poured into anti-trans legislation… This zine is a culmination of my slow breakup with a story that once brought me joy. Now it just makes me angry, tired and sad.

Image: Candle in a fancy holder burned down to less than an inch.

Maia Kobabe, 2023

#harry potter #harry potter and the problematic author #jk rowling #transphobia #jk rowling transphobic

[redsray]

Wayne gala but all of the batkids were forced to go so now they are SET on giving Bruce the biggest headache ever while also entertaining themselves. read: they have a bet going on who can have the most ridiculous headline in the paper the next morning. some honourable mentions include:

Bruce Wayne's (il?)legal Ward(?) Stephanie Brown Claims to 'Always Have at Least Three of Bruce's Wallets' on Her Person. (With Interview! "Always have to be prepared, y'know? S'not like he'll notice one is missing.")

Eldest Wayne Son Richard Grayson Seen Falling Face First Into the Chocolate Fountain at Recent Charity Gala: Proceeds to Get Back Up, Laugh it Off and Return Thirty Seconds Later Unphased. (With Bonus Interview! "My hair just falls back into place perfectly, even after exposed to melted chocolate 30 seconds beforehand.")

Jason Todd-Wayne's First Public (Official!) Appearance Since He Returned: Everything You Need to Know, From Claims of An Alien Kidnapping to Punching the Newly-Hired Bartender! (With Exclusive Interview: "He looked at Cass weird. Creep. Should send him to those aliens.")

Bruce Wayne's Youngest Damian Wayne Denies Bringing Mysterious Pets to Recent Gala; Allegedly Does Not Notice the Hoard of Animals Hidden Behind Him, Including a Cow. (With New Interview: "Pets? Here? Foolish. All of my pets are safely in their wing of the manor. Do not disrespect their name.")

Timothy Drake-Wayne and His Gala Experiences: Wayne Middle Child Is Caught Falling Asleep At Multiple Tables During the Charity Gala, Claims to 'Not Know What Sleep Is' When Asked. (Bonus Interview! "Sleeping? At tables? Please, I have some class. What even is sleep? Is this a new social custom I am unaware of?")

see also: Timothy Drake-Wayne Denies Ownership of Skateboard Placed Under Bruce Wayne's Chair Despite His Name Clearly Etched On the Back.

Bruce Wayne's Newest Ward Duke Thomas Accidentally Spills Punch On His Guardian; Proceeds to Make Wayne Thank Him Because 'That Suit Was A Fashion Disaster'. (With Exclusive Interview: "That suit looked like it was picked out by Dick. That's not a good thing. It looked better with punch spilt on it.")

Eldest Daughter of Bruce Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Reported Hiding Behind Each of Her Siblings in Succession Throughout the Recent Gala; When Asked, Each Sibling Denied Seeing The Young Woman. (With Added Interview: "Fun game. Hide and seek, with paparazzi. Fun to scare.")

#batfam #batman #dc comics #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #batfam shenanigans #wayne gala #bruce actually won btw #the next morning the headline was #gotham's starshine bruce wayne spotted talking to unfamiliar young boy at recent gala #new wayne child? the media asks. #another sibling for the wayne kids? #the kids cause an absolute uproar #the kid was billy btw #bruce asked him to come just to fuck with the kids and their bet #the media has no idea what steph is btw #shes just there ??? #their best guess is ward ??

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured IX

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader

Summary: Things get worse before they can get better

Two days after you and Jaume are admitted into hospital, several different things happen.

One: Jenni's manager calls and tells her that she can only take a maximum of two more weeks leave and that she needs to return to Mexico within the month.

Two: Jaume gets much better, very quickly. He's practically good as new and he's allowed out of his room for short periods of time.

Three: The pottery place lets Alexia know that her mug and your train are ready so she goes to pick them up.

Four: She comes back with your ceramic train and drops it on the floor in horror when she sees you being intubated.

'She took a turn for the worse' they tell her. 'We've upped her medication and she should be fine in a few days', they say but all Alexia can think about is the shattered train on the floor and how tiny you look in your bed.

You're moved to the ICU and remain motionless and asleep for days on end. Therein lies the second problem.

The ICU nurses are stricter than the nurses in the peds wing. They say only the legal guardians can go into your room.

You have no father. You had no other mother either, not legally anyway.

You have just Alexia. Just Alexia who can sign off on treatment plans. Just Alexia who can sign you out and be given updates about your condition.

Just Alexia who can go and sit by your bedside and sob.

It was supposed to be a good day. Jaume was better. You were going to get your train.

It's all ruined now and all Alexia can do is sob.

Jenni sobs too.

She can't see you. She can't even enter the ICU. She can do nothing but loiter in the waiting room.

She had nowhere else to go.

Eli and Alba can go and see Jaume but Jenni has nothing to do with Jaume. She just has you.

You who is intubated and asleep in the ICU. You who she had pinned down and so cruelly not explained anything to. You who was still so small and scared and stuck in hospital while Jenni would have to return to Mexico very, very soon.

"How is she?"

Jenni's ex looks away. Alexia looks exhausted, worse than Jenni's ever seen her before. There are bags under her eyes. Her hair looks unbrushed. Her clothes are crumpled.

"The doctors are optimistic," Is Alexia's answer," They think she's fighting really well. They..." Alexia's throat bobs. "They think she'll be strong enough to come off it in a day or two."

"And she can have visitors again?"

"Maybe not as quickly," Alexia explains," I think we should be conservative. Maybe not even until she's fully healthy again. I think-"

"Alexia, I have to leave soon."

Alexia breaks off. "What?"

"Back to Mexico. I've delayed it as long as I can. By the end of the month, I need to be gone again."

"What are you talking about?" Alexia still can't wrap her mind around it. "Back to Mexico? Bambi's still sick."

"I know!" Jenni snaps. "I know, Alexia. And you need to make a decision."

"A decision? Jenni, what are you talking about?"

"You need to put someone else on her papers. You've seen those doctors. We don't get told anything. It's dangerous."

"Jenni-"

"What if Bambi breaks her arm? Me or Olga bring her to hospital and they can't do anything because we're not legal guardians. What would have happened if they couldn't get a hold of you after they intubated her? They can't change treatment plans without parental consent."

"I-"

Jenni sighs, long and drawn out. "I know you have a lot on your plate, Alexia. I know, I do but this is about Bambi and what she deserves and she deserves two people on that birth certificate."

Jenni doesn't say what she wants to say. She doesn't say that she desperately wants you as her own. She doesn't say that she thinks in the deepest, most malicious part of her brain that Alexia has already ruined whatever relationship you had beyond repair. She doesn't say that she thinks a new start in Mexico would be best for you.

She doesn't say that she's already looked at a ballet academy near her apartment and that her club has some of the best childcare options she's seen in a long time.

Jenni doesn't say anything more.

She just turns on her heel and walks out.

Out of Alexia's company, out of the waiting room, out of the hospital.

She doesn't say anything until she's in her car and sobbing into her steering wheel.

Her words float through Alexia's brain even as she sits in Jaume's room with him.

He looks much better than before. The rash is gone. He's moving around again.

The only evidence that he was ever sick at all is the IV still attached to his hand, feeding antibiotics into his body to make sure it's fully gone.

"Something funny, little man?" Alexia coos as he giggles uncontrollably," What so funny, huh? What so funny?" She bounces him gently at each word and Jaume giggles even more.

"The little man's happy he's getting out of here in a few days," Olga says, hooking her chin over Alexia's shoulder," Isn't that right, Jaume? Is that why you're so giggly today?"

Jaume giggle in answer, kicking his feet out.

"Look at these kicks," Alexia coos," My little footballer, huh? Are you going to captain Spain? I think you are!"

"Your Mama and sister went home," Olga says," They'll be here early tomorrow, like always."

"Jenni went as well."

Olga goes to sit in the chair next to Alexia's, frowning. "That's unlike her. I swear, I thought she was going to sneak into the ICU yesterday."

"She told me that she needs to go back to Mexico soon," Alexia says," She's delaying it for as long as possible."

"All for our Bambi?" Olga hums," She really loves her."

"Yeah," Alexia says," She does."

Alexia is in awe of Jenni sometimes. Jenni has always loved you, Alexia thinks. Jenni's always been a part of your life even when Alexia didn't have the energy to care for herself. Jenni had always been there.

Alexia doesn't think she'll ever understand just how much Jenni adores you. You make the planets spin for Jenni. You hang the stars and the moon and sometimes, like now, Alexia wonders if she'll ever be able to live up to that.

If she'll ever be able to give you the life you deserve.

She doesn't want to give you up. Selfishly, she wants a life where she can hold both you and Jaume in bed with her. She wants a life where she can go to Jaume's football matches and your ballet recitals. She wants a life where she can win a Champion's League and see you running onto the pitch to celebrate with her.

But she doesn't know if that's the life you want.

She doesn't know if that's the life you deserve, constantly being shepherded from one thing to another, constantly living in fear that you'll be left behind again.

Alexia knows a life with Jenni, where you're the centre of her world, would be good for you too. But, still, Alexia can't help but let her heart flutter at hearing Olga call you 'our Bambi'.

'Our Bambi'.

Hers and Alexia's.

If you went with Jenni then you would be just Jenni's, no matter if Alexia kept her name on your birth certificate. You would be half a world away. She would see you when Jenni returned for international duty. She would see you a few weeks every year and Alexia doesn't know how she could cope with that.

Alexia doesn't know how she would explain to Jaume about the sister he never sees.

Alexia is your mother and she needs to do what is best for you, despite how selfish she wants to be.

She needs to decide if she can still give you the best life possible or if letting Jenni raise you is truly what will give you the best chance possible.

"Ale?" Olga asks softly, shaking her," You're crying."

Alexia swipes the tears away. "I was just thinking about Bambi. I should probably get back to her. The doctors keep saying that she won't even notice but-"

"But you should still sit with her," Olga says," She deserves to have some company. Here." Olga reaches into her bag.

She pulls out your ceramic train, the one Alexia shattered on the floor after seeing you with a tube down your throat.

"It's still missing a few pieces," Olga explains," But I tried my best. I thought you could put it at her bedside."

Alexia takes it gently, cradling it in her hands. Olga's right. There's still little chips and Alexia can very clearly see where Olga has glued the broken pieces together.

It's still fractured and broken but it's perfect.

"I love you," Alexia chokes out," I love you."

"I love you too," Olga says," Just as I love our kids. Go, Ale. Sit with her. Me and the little man will be right here."

The sun glints on your ceramic train for nearly a week until you wake up.

The doctors keep you asleep until they're certain that the meningitis is gone.

Jaume gets to go home with Olga the day before you get woken up.

There's a crowd outside your room early the next day and Alexia is the only one allowed in.

"We've taken the tube out," The doctors explain," And she'll be coming out of the anaesthesia soon. She'll be a little disorientated and emotional but once she's up, give it an hour or two, we'll check her hearing and her strength and if it all goes well then she should be out of here by late afternoon."

"How likely is it that her hearing's being affected?"

"Meningitis is known to cause hearing loss but I'm optimistic. Despite what's happened, she's fought it every step of the way. There's a good chance she comes out of this without any lasting effects."

"And once she's up? I can let people in?"

The doctor glances over at the assembled crowd. "Only one or two in the room at a time. We don't want to overwhelm her."

"Thank you."

"I'll be back soon."

Alexia retakes her seat at your side, holding your hand gently in her own. Your little hands are perfect to hold in her own. You could probably hold just a finger and it would still be bigger than your whole hand.

"I love you," Alexia whispers as she presses a soft kiss to your forehead," I love you so, so much, Bambi. You're all better now. You just need to wake up."

You don't come to for another thirty minutes or so and, when you finally do, it's slowly.

"Mami," You say," My throat hurts."

Alexia can't help the worried laughter that bubbles out of her throat. It's half in relief and half in how disgruntled you look.

"Mami?"

"Here, Bambi," She says," Sit up. Let's have a little drink."

She holds the glass as you sip the water. You lean easily into the comfort Alexia's offering, your head resting on her shoulder

"Wha's goin' on, Mami?"

"You were sick," Alexia says," But you're better now and you get to leave if everything's okay."

Your brow wrinkles. "I..." Your eyes dart around and Alexia suddenly realises what the doctor meant by you being emotional. "I want Mama! Mama! Want-Want Mama!"

Tears spill down your cheeks and Alexia knows exactly who you want.

She shouldn't take it personally. She knows you're sad and overwhelmed and you're reaching out for comfort for the person that you can't see.

Alexia knows this is normal. She's been told this is normal and yet-

Alexia pushes away her feelings, tucking you into the blankets and pressing a kiss to your cheek that you clearly welcome. "I'll get you Jenni," She promises," Just give me a second."

She pokes her head out of the door.

"Jenni," Alexia says, voice emotionless," She needs you."

Jenni's looking more relieved than Alexia's ever seen her before as she rushes into the room.

"Mama," You say, brow wrinkled and looking up at her with wet, puppy dog eyes," You hurt me."

"I hurt you?" Jenni echoes as she takes Alexia's seat," When did I hurt you, Bambi?"

"When the bad man touched my back and you held my legs."

"I'm sorry, Bambi," Jenni says gently," That was wrong of me. I'm very, very sorry."

You're still confused. Your brain feels like it's full of cotton, all fuzzy and weird like that time the tv made that weird noise and went all staticky.

You lay back down. Your head bounces a little from the force you've thrown it back into your pillow with.

Everything's all jumbled and confused and you gently take Ma-Jenni's hand in your own. She's got big hands with fingers you can wrap your whole hand around and still have your hand be too small.

You know someone else like that, you think and your brain strains to think of who it is.

You get glimpses.

Big hands. A Barcelona kit. Gentle strokes down your back and kisses on your forehead when you're sad.

"Mami," You croak out even as Ma-Jenni climbs into bed with you and cradles you against her body.

Mami was with you earlier. You can remember that. You lift your head to see where she's gone but you can't see her anywhere.

"Mama," You say, tugging on Ma-Jenni's shirt as tears still drip down your cheeks," Mami's gone! Mami's gone again!"

You don't know that Alexia's crying too.

In the bathroom down the hall, staring at herself in the mirror and only seeing your own tearful face reflected back at her.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #jenni hermoso x reader #jenni hermoso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

[amandiamara]

SitaAlexandra comes back with Empire

#sita Alexandra #Empire #SitaAlexandra New Song #empire by Sita Alexandra #Alexandrasita #sitaalexandramusic #sitaalexandra #Alexandra sita #guardian #guardian news paper #guardian SitaAlexandra #guardian empire #Afro beat #pop music #African songs #trending Videos #trendingartists #trendingmusic #trending songs

[don-lichterman]

Press Preview: Wednesday's papers

Press Preview: Wednesday’s papers

Jayne Secker previews Wednesday’s front pages with The Observer’s chief leader writer, Sonia Sodha, and The Times’s home affairs editor, Matt Dathan. #skynews #paperreview SUBSCRIBE to our YouTube channel for more videos: http://www.youtube.com/skynews Follow us on Twitter: https://twitter.com/skynews Like us on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/skynews Follow us on Instagram:…

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#COST OF LIVING #cost of living 2022 #energy prices #kate ferguson #liverpool shooting #liz truss #Matt Dathan #News #politics #PRESS #PRESS PREVIEW #RISHI SUNAK #Sky #Sky News #sonia sodha #The Guardian #THE SUN #The Telegraph #The Times #tomorrows papers #Tory leadership #tory leadership 2022 #Wednesday&039;s papers

[smoft-demons]

Can he deal with a spider for you?

_______

(All seven brothers. Reader is afraid of spiders and asks him to get rid of one for them)

_______

Lucifer

He’s not scared of spiders, absolutely he can do it.

He might be exasperated about being dragged away from his work for such a minor thing, but if you’re genuinely terrified he’ll get it done for you with nothing more than a sigh.

I can’t imagine he would bother to spend the extra time on capturing and releasing, so he’d just crush it.

But he WOULD bother to spend the time to help you calm down after it’s dead, if you’re still freaked out. Annoyed he may be, but he still loves you.

He helps. He gives really good hugs.

Plus, it’s pretty hard to stay scared when you have Lucifer on your side. Nothing in all three realms can out-scary Lucifer. There’s nowhere safer than under his protection.

All in all, he’s capable and efficient, makes you feel safe, but loses points for being annoyed about it lol

7/10

Mammon

He’s afraid of many things, but spiders are not one of them, I think. It’s not uncommon to see spider motifs in casinos and such, so I think he can stand to look at them.

He can do it. He’s not even annoyed to be called on, he likes having opportunities to protect you. He is a good guardian!

He would be readily available too, because he’s usually hanging around you. No need to go looking for him.

He might pretend to be annoyed/unwilling, in his usual tsundere fashion. Halfheartedly complaining as he’s in the middle of actively doing as you asked. What a dork.

He’d roll his eyes, but WOULD take the extra time to catch and release instead of killing it if you asked.

He would give you a hug to calm you down after disposing of it, and then be very confused when you freak out worse because he didn’t wash his hands after dealing with the spider.

Then he’d correct that so he can successfully comfort you. You’re soft with him when HE’S scared, so he’ll be soft with you when you’re scared. He’ll deal with his brothers making fun of him for it later.

He’d never admit out loud that he’s a coward, but he knows it’s true. He’s very sympathetic to his human for having an irrational fear as well.

He’s very happy that he can make you feel safe.

9/10

Levi

Is confused at first. You’ve faced down angry demons and mortal peril so many times, and you’re scared of a bug?

He’s not scared, he’s THE Leviathan, the oceans are his to command! He’s seen WAAAY freakier creatures in the ocean, a spider is nothing!

But… it also… doesn’t defer to him, like ocean monstrosities do. It’s just… staring at him!! Menacingly!! M-maybe he’s a little freaked out…

Doesn’t matter, he insists to himself. This is his opportunity to protect his Henry! He will defend you, he is capable, he will defeat this creepy bug for you!

He advances upon this small enemy, cup and paper in hand. This is nothing more than a low level video game enemy! He’s good at this!

And then it starts mOVING, it’s RUNNING AT HIM AAAA—oh, hi Lotan.

… So uhh. Good news, the spider is dead. Bad news, the house is flooding and Lotan is inside. Lucifer’s gonna be pissed…

(Also, if you had happened to see the spider while he was gaming, you’d have to really beg him to come help you. Once he realizes it’s you, he’s on his way. But it’ll take a bit.)

4/10

Satan

If it were any of his brothers asking him to come get a spider for them, he would make fun of them relentlessly. But it’s you, so he will be nice.

Or. He will try to be nice. If you interrupted his reading or his homework (or dragged him away from a cat!), he’ll be annoyed. Now that you and him are close, he’s not really in the habit of lying to your face anymore. So… you’ll be able to tell.

You don’t dare tell him not to kill it.

Hiding behind him, you point out the spider. He regards it scornfully. Rolling his eyes at it where you can’t see.

With a flick of his finger, the spider is magically vaporized.

He softens as you thank him for saving you, especially if you continue to cling to him from your hiding spot behind him.

He’ll reach over his shoulder to pat your head and reassure you. He’ll tell you that it’s okay to call on him for this sort of thing again if you really need to, he’s not actually mad, he loves you, you’re alright.

6/10

Asmo

You might THINK Asmo would hate spiders, because he’s notorious for despising anything unsightly. But no. Scorpions are also arachnids. Asmo is pro-arachnid. That spider is friend-shaped to him!

So when you run to him all freaked out, he can’t help but feel a bit offended on the spider’s behalf.

He’ll let you hide behind him, but that’s not super helpful honestly, because he’ll pick it up and coo over it

He’s like, “look, it’s okay, he’s not gonna hurt you! Look at that beautiful pattern, look at those eyes, he’s gorgeous!” as he actively offers it to you to admire (completely oblivious to the possibility of the spider legit being pretty dangerous to you. Asmo is much more venom resistant than you are!)

… as long as you don’t let him put the damn creature in your hand, this may be helpful for you if you’re just scared of spiders. Desensitization and all. But it’s NOT helpful one bit if you have full-blown arachnophobia! Phobias can’t be reasoned with so easily! Being forced to be so close to a spider before you’re good and ready is actually very detrimental to someone with a phobia!

Concern for you wins out over offense as you tremble and hyperventilate, frantically stumbling away from Asmo and his terrifying new friend.

He tries to come reassure you, but that makes it worse because he sTILL HASN’T PUT THE DAMN SPIDER AWAY

He gets the hint when you flinch away from him. He’ll go put the spider outside. He’ll make sure you see/hear him washing his hands before approaching you again. He’ll even turn out his pockets to reassure you that he has definitely put the spider outside.

He apologizes for making it worse and offers some sorely needed comfort.

Still, later he’s totally gonna be telling you all about various spiders and trying to get you to see the beauty in them. He’s your number one ally for getting over this fear.

He doesn’t really get it if you’ve got a phobia instead of a regular, garden-variety fear, but he won’t be insensitive again.

Points for learning and open-mindedness, minus points for being very unhelpful at simply removing a spider for you.

2/10

Beel

You might THINK that Beel would be your best bet for this… but no!

Big and strong and protective he may be, but Beel is a fly! Spiders eat flies! It is hardwired into him to be terrified of them, even though he is much bigger and can kill them easily. They’re not REALLY a threat to him, but…

He might be more scared than you are.

As soon as he sees it, HE tries to hide behind YOU.

Beel is actually on the verge of tears. He wants to take you and run, but if he takes his eyes off it who KNOWS where it’ll end up?? You’ll both be paranoid for days if it escapes!

He calls for Belphie to come rescue you both. Belphie shows up to find you and Beel both trying to hide in each other’s embrace. Cowering in a corner, trembling as you cling to each other, both staring, glassy eyed and terrified, at a spider chilling on the wall across the room.

Belphie is used to this. It’s the one and only time he gets to protect Beel, instead of the other way around. He does a good job. The spider is efficiently defeated and disposed of.

Points for making you feel better about being scared and for indirectly solving the problem for you. Minus points for not actually being able to remove the spider for you

5/10

Belphie

Now, if you choose to go to Belphie for help… well, that’s a bold choice if you don’t already know about Beel’s arachnophobia.

He’s a brat and a prankster and you KNOW this

He is so tempted to pick it up and taunt you with it… but he won’t.

He’s not trying to give you something ELSE to forgive him for. He will never choose to break your trust again. If you’re actually scared, he’s not going to make it worse.

Shockingly, Belphie is actually the best one to go to about this.

You asking for his help with this specifically actually really endears you to him. Reminds him of Beel. You have unlocked the elusive responsible/protective/reassuring Belphie!

He’s not scared of spiders at all, this is the one fear that he won’t ever use to prank you if it’s as bad as Beel’s is, and he’s very practiced at helping a loved one with arachnophobia. Perfect, surprisingly enough!

He’ll kill it without hesitation, unless you specifically ask him to release it outside.

He absolutely knows to wash his hands and make sure you can see that there’s no trace of the spider on him or in the room before approaching you. Beel would freak out if he didn’t. He knows the drill.

He happily takes the time to comfort you and make sure you’ve calmed down once it’s disposed of. He’ll bring you to a different room and lie on top of you like a weighted blanket to help you relax. A nap wouldn’t hurt…

If you’re embarrassed about being scared, he’ll reassure you himself and then direct you to Beel. Beel is the best one to help you with that.

10/10

#obey me #obey me! shall we date? #obey me brothers #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #obey me platonic headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me fluff #obey me hurt/comfort #my writing

[chokchokk]

𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽, 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 | song mingi x fem!reader

an ao3 requested husband!mingi one-shot

"Are you trying to challenge me?"

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : You come home stressed, feeling like the world wants only the worst from you. Good thing that your husband wants the best, right? Right...

"Baby, I would never do such a thing."

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : fluff, smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 7.3k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : established relationship, girlboss office worker!reader, stay at home husband!mingi, praise kink, hand kink, size kink, service top!mingi, use of the pet-name “baby”, starts rougher but then gets really soft and gentle, cunnilingus, fingering, over-stimulation, passionate sex; reader and mingi are in their late 20s/early 30s, reader is a bit bratty but mingi is a brat as well, it pains writer mingi is not a sub in this FUCK, he puts reader in place just a tiny bit, but the dynamics are pretty even, reader and mingi love each other deeply

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : i wanted to make mingi wear a tanktop but when i digged for it THERE WAS NOTHING???? we never got tanktop!mingi selcas???? how do yall not die of hunger, no, THIRST?

anyhow. this was an ao3 request!!! i had lots of loving fun with it and i hope you do as well babes and bbies xoxo

masterlist link | join my taglist

Did you know married employees are respected more?

Well, that’s what statistics say, but you certainly have never had this observation be proven true. It’s been almost a year since the first time you’ve worn your ring at your work-place, but you still get weird looks for having settled down “too early in the relationship” at such a “young age”, as if they knew anything about your private life— so no, you don’t. You wouldn’t know anything about being respected more as a married employee, even if you’re a few working hours away from being promoted to General Manager.

You throw your keys into their respective tray and hold your nose-bridge, when you enter your house with the sound of your shoes immediately falling to the floor after you shake them off in frustration. Yes, you may have earned your money, but at what cost? To hear old people pick you out because “such a fragile thing can’t possibly handle life”, despite being their lead director, have their hairy fingers pointed towards you since “someone like Y/N needs extra checking” despite you never having missed a dead-line, and to be eyed by them while you’re just trying to get your papers— oh, fucking hell; that is, by definition, not respect, that is horror, and one more reason to finally just quit your job and—

“Baby, you’re home!”

You take deep breath.

“Here I am.”

“Allow me,” your husband hums, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his torso close to your back; he’s rubbing himself against you with the excuse that he’s helping you get that fucking bag from your hands, and you let out an exhale once the weight is removed from your grip and lands on the floor. He is masterfully not referring to the fact that you came a full hour later than the initial time you have texted him you would arrive, and rather focusing on the how your shoulders feel more tense than usual, massaging his strong thumbs into them.

“Thank you,” you sigh and lean the back of your head against his breast, for he’s towering over you like a guardian pressing gentle kisses onto your hair, making him one comfortable, cushioned wall. You feel a bit guilty for not having asked how his day went, but for all you know, he’s having a blast arranging his new studio that he wants to use in the future to produce with other music artists, but most importantly, help you earn money.

Your stay-at-home husband, Song Mingi. The man who makes it— the time, the work, the stress— all worth it.

“How do you feel, baby?”, he murmurs, kissing your temple while he’s at it. He brushed his teeth not too long ago, you can smell the remains of mint toothpaste at his lip. Is he being obvious? Yes, maybe. You're not complaining though. “Rough day?”

“Yeah,” you exhale and let yourself be touched by your husband, though it doesn’t make you as calm as it should in your heart. You’re not craving for any soft vicinity here, you want to smash something to the ground and stomp on it; you’ve spend the whole day surrounded by the loudest, noisy, dim-witted idiots who are certainly preying on your downfall if they don’t fucking—

“Tell me all about it, baby,” Mingi murmurs, his vocal chords vibrating against the back of your head, as he rests his chin on top of it. “I’m listening.”

Sometimes you ask yourself whether you would still be receiving the same comments, if your co-workers knew who Mingi was. Not because he’s some famous man to be afraid of, but because he is taller than all of them, has got a louder voice and could knock those douchebags out with his muscly arms— okay, maybe they should be afraid. Very afraid.

“No, it’s okay,” you breathe and turn around to get your arms around your husband’s waist and press your face into his collarbones that you didn’t realize were revealed. "Button up,” you murmur, almost annoyed that you can inhale Mingi’s comforting scent through the cleavage as well as you can. You wanted to stay angry for just a little bit longer, but your husband makes it nearly impossible. Not to say it doesn’t make feel you any less hot though.

“What do you mean?", Mingi pouts, "Is it not good? I showered! Just for you, baby.”

You chuckle and your lips graze his freshly-washed, freshly-lotioned baby-smooth skin. “No… It’s too good…”

Mingi gets his hands into your hair and rubs his finger tips across your scalp.

“What were you stressed about, baby?”, Mingi continues to ask you, applying a bit of pressure to his touch, his hand feeling like it’s ripping off the upper layer of your head in the best way possible.

“My co-workers hate me,” you murmur, teeth gritted. Your breast begins to slightly enflame at the thought of your co-workers’ faces, but your husband doesn’t seem to mind your tone as much, allowing your mind to roam freely.

“Hate you?”

“They, like, hate my existence.”

“What would they hate you for, baby?”, he asks, working his long fingers down to the lower side of your head, reaching for your neck to scratch it. His hand is well big enough to do all of it at the same time.

Preparing to answer his question, you inhale and exhale deeply, smelling the clothing and leaving it warm.

“They hate that… I’m already settled down at my age.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And that I am as confident about it and— and as hard-working as I am…”

Mingi chuckles and strokes your hair one time to get your hair in its right place after having mushed it. His touch expands warmly on your scalp and it spreads like a soothing wave of comfort.

“They hate that,” you inhale, and then —with revelation— exhale, “I’m such a strong, successful woman.”

“There you go. My strong,” Mingi murmurs, and he’s letting his hands glide down your back, “successful,” further down your ass, “wife.” Squeeze.

“Oh,” you chuckle, fully aware that nothing is on your husband’s mind rather than to persuade you to get into bed with him. Cleaning his teeth, showering, putting on fresh clothes— Did he even shave his beard by himself? Wow.

After almost a year of marriage, some clues become very self-explanatory.

His amazing hands work their amazing ways on your ass, and as it goes for Mingi, he always prides himself that he can make you melt under his touch, especially when you come home from work late on days like these.

“You should just let your anger out on them next time,” Mingi smiles, cupping your ass with the big surface of his hand and you can feel how he’s trying to figure out whether he can raise you up like this— spoiler: he can— and continues to encourage you. “Or on me.”

Were you implying your co-workers should be scared of Mingi? Yes, but also no. For someone your size, despite seemingly being ever-so tiny in your husband’s embrace, to make it so big in such a short time is astounding; ground-breaking, even. You may or may not know, but Mingi finds you are one cold-blooded woman whose blood only boils when she’s being provoked, and if there is one thing your husband wants you to prove to your co-workers, it’s that you won’t think twice once you’ve got the title of being their supervisor.

Too harsh? Maybe. But that’s something you can consider when they’re begging you to accept their apologies, no?

“Don’t edge me on, or I might actually turn into the Hulk or something,” you laugh hoarsely and raise your head up to him. Mingi looks down immediately and grins, continuously groping his hands into your butt.

“You can’t scare me,” he lulls and kisses your forehead, “because you’ll always be my little baby, Y/N.”

“Ohh, shut it,” you sneer and can’t deny that Mingi is the only one who can make you feel this small, “I wouldn’t be too sure I can’t scare you.”

“Do try, please,” Mingi insists with a cheeky smirk and gung-ho, you’re raised from the floor, being carried to the bedroom. Was that a challenge you heard?

“Be rough all you want tonight, alright? I don’t think your stress is gonna get away our traditional way today.”

“Really? ‘Traditional’?”, you huff and raise an eyebrow, Mingi kissing your cheek, as he opens the door to your bedroom.

“It’s almost our anniversary, let’s try something new, baby. I'll do anything you want. Don't care about me. I'll just be... you know. I don't know.”

“What? Is my husband getting bored of being in charge?”, you gasp theatrically, easing your hands into his shoulders, “Does hubby want me to order him around?”

“Let’s get rid of the terminology,” Mingi mutters, a bit sheepish, not wanting to admit that he read the term ‘service top’ somewhere in the deepest corners of the internet earlier this evening and had to ask you when you came home. You coming home an hour later just made him travel further the needy path, imagining how good he could make love to you, when his "own pleasure isn't the focus" (that's a quote from the website.)

“I just want my wonderful wife,” Mingi sighs, as he lets himself fall on the mattress backwards, with you landing on his hard-on, knees propped next to his hips, “And relieve you from all your stress.”

You’re still in your office attire, got your tie on tight around your neck, everything that screams ‘not ready for bed’, but Mingi doesn’t seem to care for your sheets to become dirty. In fact, he apparently wants you to be the dirtiest you’ve ever been, huh?

His long, slender fingers hold you by your jaw, as your husband roughly presses his lips into yours, immediately opening up his mouth to get a second taste with his tongue. While he tastes like mint toothpaste, you taste like bittersweet coffee, diligence and dedication; you are dancing heavenly on Mingi’s tastebuds, and his tongue laps over yours eagerly to not let any drop of your essence go to waste. He’s making you feel wanted, no, he wants you, and as Mingi takes your blazer off, your own desire to have him grows bigger with each passing second.

Your legs feel a bit tight due to the fabrics of your suit, but it doesn’t prevent you from grinding yourself into him, pants interrupting your greedy kiss. “Let’s get this off,” Mingi murmurs into your lips, hooking his finger into your tie, loosening it up, pulling it until he can wriggle your head through.

“Let’s get all of this off,” you reciprocate and his hands are on your waist, as Mingi watches you flawlessly open up the buttons of your blouse, tongue running over his lower lip. “Your co-workers don’t know you,” he chuckles, admiring you sitting on top of him with a look in your eyes that he could feast on for days, “But they should know that you are, fuck, breath-taking.”

You move your hips over his crotch, enjoying hearing your husband gutter out his thoughts.

“You are eye-candy in that, baby,” Mingi heaves, “I’m getting kinda jealous of your co-workers here.”

Cheeky, you let the blouse droop over your shoulders, revealing your lacy bra. Saying that you’re eye-candy doesn’t put it into words, Mingi thinks, and gulps at the sight of you stroking over your own torso and your breast that is just being so perfectly pushed by your lingerie, and— though it barely needs any convincing for him to swathe his tongue around your pretty nipples and get even more prettier sounds out of you— your slight gesture gets your husband’s head fuming with the things he wants to do to you to make you crumble and eat it all up deliciously, not leave anything behind.

“I bet they don’t get to see this though,” he grins and with a quick, studied flick of his fingers, the tightness around your torso is released and your tits are out for Mingi stare into. “Only I get to see this, don’t I?"

You nod and sigh, when he traces the red indents from your underwear with his thumbs and wets his lips; but before you think he's being too gentle, Mingi doesn't let you speak out the words 'yes, only you do' and interrupts you with his mouth, his hands holding you by your waist.

"Mingi," you pant. He has pushed you over on your back to the mattress without warning, caging you in with his frame. "Sorry, baby," he grins, pulls off his tank-top, throws it on the floor, quickly— he's got things to do here!— and then zips open your pants, kissing you from your cheek down to your collarbones, covering your body with his fresh breath. "Works better this way."

Mingi hooks his fingers into your trousers and pulls it off until your panties are revealed to him, but before he's able to wriggle it down to your calves and finally have it off your body, he's having a moment to look at his wife laying in front of him; your glowing eyes are glancing up, waiting, no, teasing, urging him on to do what Mingi has been planning to do since the first time he asked you when you would arrive back home.

"Please don't mention 'work'," you hiss, pushing your tongue against the inner space of your mouth.

He knows. He has never been there at your work-place, and he never asks you more about it than he should, because Mingi does think that his distraction works way better than to rant for hours, and he sees it, feels it— your anger, your frustration, your stress— but does he... well, how should he say this... care for it?

No.

"Why not?", is what Mingi whispers into your skin to make you roll your eyes and border him in with your thighs, the pants that aren't off yet keeping him between your legs. Fuck, you're so hot when you're stressed.

Okay, wait, wait, wait— hear him out.

First, please forgive him. You really have to. Mingi would never say this out loud, not under any circumstance that doesn't include you directly asking for it, but shit, look at yourself right now. Enveloped by your open blouse, your perfect breasts hanging out of it like a window luring him to peek like the shameful man he is, your facial expression judging him for his fawning— you are a goddess in his eyes, Y/N. And gods get angry. And then, when they're angry, they're the most powerful they ever are.

So there you go; Mingi, even though he's a husband that has never, ever throughout your marriage or your relationship, made you angrier for more than 24 hours, kinda enjoys it when you come home stressed, gritting your teeth, panting, groaning— talking to him with umph. The stress makes you riled up, makes you breathe fire, shoot flames out of your eyes that seduce him to be even more ignited, just for you.

"Are you trying to challenge me?", you huff and Mingi makes himself comfortable, placing his elbows around the sides of your body, anchoring himself on your lower abdomen with his forearm.

"Baby," he grins, kissing the inner sides of your thighs, "I would never do such a thing."

Except he is. When you get— and your husband thinks he's a genius to think of this— 'worked up', you become demanding, slightly sassy, playful, and there is nothing Mingi loves more than his wife to tell him exactly what she wants, because he knows he can be a bit dense sometimes. He tries his best, always, to do things according to your liking, but usually, you just let him do his thing since sometimes you need nothing more than his presence.

"I would never tease you like that, my," he pesters, "baby." With his lips stuck at the last inch before he's able to get it near your clothed cunt, you scoff, pressing your thighs together to squeeze his face.

"You better fucking not tease me tonight," you warn him and Mingi bites his lip, feeling his already-very-hard cock twitch inside his joggers at the cause of your tone.

"I love you too much," your husband answers and moves his head around, his pointy nose grazing against your covered clit. Like an automatic reaction, you gulp and throw your face to the side, your hand intertwining with Mingi's long fingers that are resting at the seam of your panties.

"Oh, please," you taunt, “dare to give me your worst performance,” and you think you're safe, since his hands are occupied with yours, but when you are in bed with him, and proceed to tease Mingi like this, then you are never safe with your husband.

(Except the part that you are safe, and safe with the thought Mingi is indeed going to relieve you.) Pressing his tongue against the fabric, Mingi curves it into the band, pushing it with ease, without any type of struggle to— and you should've seen this coming— plunge his tongue into your folds. "Fuck, Mingi," you breathe and he's chuckling against your wet cunt, as he laps his wet muscle over your slickness to gather what has been collecting in your underwear, slow and sensually, though his heavy breathing tells you that he's going to feast on it in no time.

He ‘loves you’, you know that, but ‘too much'? — Can there ever be too much?

"Ohh, fuck, that's good, right fucking there," you groan, gripping into Mingi's hand. With your feedback, Mingi continues to purl over your clit, sucking the fluid so it can spread on his tongue and melt in his mouth.

No. There could never be too much.

You taste so delicious, and it goes without saying that Mingi finds it fascinating that you look even better from this angle; he can see every lash of yours flutter with the slow flicking of his tongue, adding speed as he goes. “Yes,” you whimper, “‘feels so good.”

His heart and mouth are cooperating wonderfully, as his lips are spelling words of awe into your labia; He’s pronouncing how good it feels so good to be your husband, how good it feels to do good— and oh, it is so good to be yours, Y/N. You can’t even believe. The sounds you let out tingle all of his senses and he’s definitely going to have to hurry with his studio, if he wants to eternalise them.

Mingi holds the eye-contact to not miss any of your expressions, laving at your cunt with bizarre flexibility that makes you twist here and there, but his forearm is pressing you down to keep you on your back. "Squirmy," he grins, babying you while you are unable to open move your legs, since your own set of trousers is keeping them closed together, "am I doing you that well?”

Panting because of how constrained you are despite wanting to move around so much, you throw your head down on the soft mattress. "Uh-huh," you exhale, feeling his tongue circle around your clit and tease itself into your entrance, "so well."

Mingi's head is spinning. He wants to make you cum so fast, but he also wants you to beg for your orgasm until your voice is hoarse from the moaning, just so he can see your ribcage move up and down the bed one more time, no, please so many times, and maybe he could get his fingers in so he can— fuck, didn't he plan this out?

He makes it look easy, but in your husband’s mind, he's puzzling and figuring out the ways to pleasure you the best way he can. Mingi heaves and laughs, noticing how he's been cutting himself short of breath, too excited to be pleasuring you. "You’re so beautiful, baby," he says, voice having become raspy and an octave lower than usual; it appears to you that he's drunk on your taste, "you're making me insane with that view."

You inhale through your mouth with your lip-corners pointing upwards, a bit shy with your husband's praise, but you have no other way around than to listen to Mingi's dreamy words. "Unnh-huh," you react, but once your husband is laving at your cunt again, talking amidst of it, you are becoming a mindlessly noisy mess.

"My pretty baby," Mingi murmurs, and as he does so, his mouth is flocking in your slick, tickling your clit repeatedly, "my prettiest, loveliest baby, so whiny for me, fuck."

"More, Mingi," you grunt, feeling like the blouse is keeping you tight, so you push yourself up and get it off your arms— Mingi uses his chance to pull your panties over your knees— and after that, the male digs deeper into your crevice, thighs pressing him in which makes him gasp for dear air, "please."

Your pleads are meaningful to him, make his heart jump, make his head click like he's a dog being asked to obey, and okay, Mingi doesn't think he wants to be a pet, let alone an animal, but— you know what? Your pleads not only show what a considerate wife you are, it also makes Mingi know how much you want him, and that’s the best feeling in the entire world, and he would do everything to chase your pleasure and praise.

“Oh, I got all night, baby,” your husband chuckles, he’s grinding himself against the bed, huffing and panting, tongue delving deep into you on your command.

He drags the intertwined hands of yours down the tiny bit it needs for his thumb to meet your clit, and as Mingi rubs extensively over it, your knuckles go white from how strongly you grip into his fingers.

Oh god, this is exactly what you wanted. His tongue, his lips, his hands, oh, his hands— his fingers; those ridiculously long fingers that cover your whole pelvic bone when extended— slender and rapid, frantically incautious over your cunt, so eager to push you over the edge, pull you back up and throw you over again and again; you love how they look against your body, on your head, on your neck, on your cunt, everywhere they travel during your desirous journeys.

"Aren't I so scarily good?", Mingi huffs, nervy and immodest, talking to get himself to breathe, clearly confident that you are feeling the best you've felt the whole day given the way your muscle was contracting around his tongue, when it was still in you; unfortunately you're unable to answer him with words, just letting out another gutsy "unnnh" as feedback.

"I know, oh, I know," he grins, his thumb rubbing over your clit like he's racing with your stuttered breath, but ultimately, he’s making you feel quite empty with the lack of his mouth at your cunt, and he’s making you feel that way on purpose, "I'm the best, I can do you the best—"

"Mingi! Your Tongue! Please."

After his pant, his mischievous little chuckle, you understand it, understand it all clearly: your naughty Mingi loves to be ordered around by his wife. Loves being ordered around knowing that, once his tongue is inside you, you'll do absolutely nothing to hold him back, and it does make you want to fuck him even more, doesn’t it? You love your husband, you feel so young with him, so undisturbedly yourself— and how loved you feel, too.

Humming a fond "I got you, baby", Mingi shuffles himself together one last time, your thighs sitting perfectly on his shoulders, and there he goes, driving his tongue into you, even more ecstatic than before; now, that you even begged him to, it's like your husband has taken enough of a back to duplicate the amount of vigor, exponentially getting faster and more impassioned. "Oh, fuck," you breathe out and with Mingi's tongue rubbing your inner walls wild and avidly, his thumb sprinting across your sensitive clit, you are heading straight to your first orgasm.

"Just like that," you whine, knowing very well that it gets your husband riled up well across his usual efforts, and you continue with it just to chase your high, "just like that, baby, just like—"

Hey now, did you just call him 'baby'? And how sneakily you did it, too! You know how crazy it gets him, you tease. Your husband’s tongue raves against your sweet spots and your slick gets combined with his saliva, his thumb using the moisture as lube to not miss any of the chances to make you squirm and spasm on his touches, but Mingi’s cock, his poor cock, twitches in the short moment his sweet, desirous pet-name is exhaled out of your pretty mouth he’s definitely going to need to kiss a thousand times until he can only taste the word “baby” on his lips.

His own pelvis is grinded deep into the mattress, and pearls of sweat form on both your foreheads, your eyes rolling to where you can’t see Mingi concentrating on your face, when it cums with a movement of your pelvis bucking up.

“… That!”, you moan, and Mingi pants, shovelling your come into his mouth, slurping it up so long until you physically have to wring with him to get his tongue off your pussy, but the trousers at your calves make it impossible. It’s Mingi’s choice here. And he’s not letting go.

“Ba—,” you squirm, rocking your body from side to side, “—by, please! Fuck!”

“Call me ‘baby’ one more time, just for me,” he lisps, laving his tongue against your throbbing, pulsating clit, all the while you try yank your ass down, overwhelmed by your prolonged pleasure.

“Baby! Baby, baby, baby—“, you whimper, and Mingi kisses your inner thigh, when he finally stops, satisfied by your calling. With one last peck on your clit, he lets go off your hands and slips out your chokehold, pulling off your pants by hooking his fingers in and sliding them off your feet. “Aww, look at you,” he beams, grinning, going through his hair and stroking his swollen lip, “all blushed away, reminds me of the older days, baby.”

“You are the worst,” you sob, and lay lax on the bed, legs once in for all extending and relaxing. Strangely enough, your head feels light, and your body that was straining and trying to get Mingi off of it, is now feeling warm and calming down from the high.

“Aw, you think so?” Mingi smiles, kissing up your leg, your hip-bone, pressing his lips on your abdomen, your tummy, your ribs, marking all of your body with his love-soaked mouth. "I adore you so much."

Having wrung with your husband, you got rid of some of the fighting needs, but— as you’re being smothered by him and his sweet antics— you sigh into the gentle, feathery contact with your skin, and play molten with his soft hair.

You remind yourself of his words, ‘don’t care about me’, but your husband would be a fool to assume that his wife doesn’t want to give him anything back. “Mingi,” you murmur— noticing that you’ve been closing your eyes due to the relaxation you are experiencing, and he immediately answers an attentive “yes, baby?” back, as he repeatedly kisses your jaw.

“Do you really want me to order you around?”, you hum.

“Haha, no, baby,” he chuckles, “it's just…”

Mingi harrumphes in his thoughts, wrapping his arms around your waist, laying his head on top of your tummy and looking up to you— whispering, "I want to do what's best for you. Especially on days like these."

Your heart throbs at the sight of your husband's hair being dishevelled, his already plump lips seemingly looking more peachy, rosy, kissable after he's eaten you out with more than greed and thirst; something that’s more valuable to a healthy marriage than the phrase ‘good sex, no ex’— Love. And the sweetest love there could ever be.

"You would do that for me, baby?", you ask him, your voice coming out sighed.

"Yes, of course," he insists, kissing you down your sternum, your ribcage moving up and down in a slow rhythm. “Baby, you work so much for us… I feel like this is something I can do for you in return, you know?”

“But what if I don’t make you cum?”

"Huh?"

Mingi stops kissing you and glances upwards. You grin. You wanted to catch him off-guard a little bit. (Though you don't know whether that's surprise in the white of his eyes or something like... intrigue.)

“… Uh,” he gutters, thinking about his words very carefully, but ultimately failing to find something good to say.

You smirk and go through his hair, gently grabbing a handful of it. “I think you’d find it hot."

"Really?", he asks, nervously huffing.

"Mingi, didn’t I edge you all during our early twenties?”

“Baby, don’t—“

“What? Well, I thought it was hot. I remember it being really hot.”

“Those were trying times.”

“We did try a lot of things during college.”

Reminiscing and visiting your rather youthful, spry days, Mingi pushes his head deeper into your hand and smiles, having calmed down from the rather exciting idea that you would suggest something so risqué to him. How long has it been? More than ten years, wow.

"Look at us now, baby," Mingi murmurs, sub-consciously wandering up the silhouette of your body with the backside of his hands, making you rather ticklish, but in a way that goosebumps find themselves on your skin, your breath feeling lighter with each stroke of his finger-tips, "Look at you." He inhales, and then exhales, your thumb resting at his ear, "You are trying to kill me, baby..."

"Ohh, Mingi, I'm not!", you giggle, and you may not know what your husband is talking about, but through his lenses— though you would be right to assume that these lenses are painted a deep, deep red— he's seeing his wife be tempered, moderate, relaxed. If he finds you so hot when you're fuming, Mingi finds you enthralling, when your eyes are barely open, the slightest of smile decorating your lips, and an even more hidden pink daubed on your cheeks... You're his wife, Mingi repeats to himself, and his heart grows double its size because of it.

"I love you," he murmurs, and for the moment, he doesn't even know he said that out loud, “I love you so much”, and means it more the second time.

And there you lay, on the mattress, your husband beginning to kiss you again, his hands cupping your head, your fingers interlaced in his hair. "I love you too," you whisper, and as Mingi grabs you by your back, inviting you to get your body up, you're right in the zone again.

Soft, smitten contact— it’s your lips this time to cover Mingi’s neck with kisses, down to his shoulders, his collarbones, your knee working against his crotch, arms swung behind his head.

“I want to take care of you, baby,” Mingi whispers, his thumb caressing your jawbone, as you peck away the sweat on his skin, he will need another shower. “I want to make love to you.”

You smile in awe of your husband lulling the loveliest of words into your ear, soft rustling from your sheets accompanying his voice. The room you decorated together, the home you fill, and even sooner, you'll start a family— with Mingi as a father to be proud of. Who has done so much to keep you happy.

"But sometimes I think—”

“No, baby,” you interrupt him, his voice was dropping and you know you are preventing Mingi from talking bad about himself. He feels guilty, though you've told him uncountable times that you don't feel like you're the only one under this roof.

"But—"

“Baby, no.”

"Okay... I guess I just love you, then." Mingi chuckles, when your fingernails trail down his breast, drawing a line along his muscle definition, “what did you think I was gonna say?”

“Something that’s gonna take me off my mood,” you hum, hooking yourself at his joggers. Mingi sighs, loudly, not yet relieved, but still at peace somehow.

“Make love to me, Mingi.”

A slight gasp leaves his mouth. Oh…

“Y/N… You can’t say things like that.”

With a smirk, your hand disappears in his joggers, and then in his boxers; his thick, throbbing, struggling cock slicking in your grip, as you wrap your fingers around it.

“I can, baby, and I will,” you sneer, “I thought you wanted the best for me?”

He grits his teeth, but Mingi smiles, finding himself at your service. “Am I the best?”, he asks you, leaning forwards to rest his head against your shoulder, pushing you down again.

“You’re the absolute best, Mingi.”

You slowly glide your hand up and down his length nibbling at his ear, exhaling, seducing him. “You’re the best husband,” you purr, “with the most handsome face,” kissing his temple, “and”, with your other finger hooked at the waist band of his joggers, you reveal “the best cock.”

Mingi is touched. A bit embarrassed, yes, it’s been a while since he’s heard you talk like this, but to hear from the best wife that he is deemed the best husband is the highest compliment he could have gotten. What, his face still charms you? His cock is still alluring to you? Don’t judge him, but even after ten years he will be moved by your words.

Moved.

“Come on, Mingi,” you coo, feeling your cunt pulsate between your legs, his cock twitch between your fingers; your husband gulps and, with your command, roams against your body, "let's get you to work."

Maybe he's really revisiting things from the past, after all the talk about your college endeavours, because you definitely recognise his canine teeth ever-so slightly sunken into your shoulder, as Mingi grabs you by your thighs and spreads your legs gently. Your body remembers, and his cock surely does as well, glistening in pre-cum as it is positioned at your cunt. "God, baby," Mingi grunts, and you lick over your lips in anticipation.

“You’re so beautiful,” he pouts, and in an almost reverent tone, Mingi brushes away a sweaty strand of hair from your face, “you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

“Not even your mom?”, you giggle, and while you think of your mother in law with utmost respect, your husband smiles, unfazed; “She’ll agree.”

And with that, Mingi is inside you, all of his length gliding into you with utmost caution; he’s driving in his pelvis unhurriedly, slow and deliberate, just so you can feel every inch of you inside expand for his girth, stretch for his entrance. "Fuck," you gutter and grab Mingi by his hair, pulling him close to you just as he begins to move, your moan coming out muffled against his lip.

"Never growing tired of it, are you?", Mingi grins into the kiss, and he's right, he's so, totally right, but your face is strained together in ecstasy, lascivious— aphrodisical to your husband. He's throbbing and he can feel how warm his own cock is, as Mingi pulls himself out of your tightness in his entirety and then, "fuck," pushes himself right back in inside you to experience it all again.

"I could never grow tired of my hubby," you chuckle and fuck, feel him, physically feel how he's getting excited about your words, something so enrapturingly hot boiling inside him; but while your personal heat ends up being your devilish little voice encouraging you to tease him, Mingi's does nothing more than to whisper him the most delicate ways of loving.

If he sucks on the spot right here at your pretty, graceful collarbone, will you sigh out an even more graceful breath? (Yes!) If he slides his tongue across your neck, just until your sensitive jaw, will you pull his hair with some type of feistiness? (Oh, god yes!) If Mingi, looking at you with sunken eyes, catches you off-guard and pistons his pelvis in at this exact moment, will you— "Fuck, baby!"

Oh, he didn't even need a voice for that one. Your husband slithers his arms under your armpits, one hand holding you by your back, the other resting on top of your head, so you don't hit the bedframe and hurt yourself, as it falls to the back with his thrust.

"Want me to say sorry?", he hums, again slowly driving himself out, knowing very well that once Mingi changes the direction, he will hit your sweet-spot again, and you shake your head rather weakly, drunken on the feeling of him filling you out.

"Good," Mingi confirms your answer, peppering kisses all around your forehead, as he quickens up his pace, breathing throughout it all. "Y/N," he sighs, you sighing with him for all the same reasons, "you feel so good."

You get used to the rhythm and let loose of the sheets, lightly scratching his skin at his waist. "You feel so good, baby," Mingi repeats himself and his eyebrows are pushed together, his grunts vibrating down your cunt. "Do you feel good, baby?"

Nodding, whispering a wispy string of a lot of 'yes'es, Mingi flashes his eye-smile and digs his face deep into the nook of your neck. He doesn't say it, because he's too busy panting, moaning, breathing out to his own thrusts, but your husband is overjoyed. You feel so tiny under his body— and maybe it's because you are, and yet the place you have reserved in his even bigger heart— which even in this moment, is beating for you and nobody else— is inexplainably huge. He wants to be yours as much as he wants you to be him, be with him, have all his life painted in your pretty colours until his canvas drivels over.

His cock is slipping in and out of you at fast speed now, your whiny moans encouraging Mingi to hold this angle since you're not stopping with it; "Are you close?", he asks and gets one arm of his out to rest his hand on the bedframe, towering over you, hair falling in front of his eyes.

"Yes, I'm close," you answer and search for another kiss, raising your hand to his cheek, Mingi immediately plunging his face into yours. He's close too, has been for a while now, but he had to get your confirmation that he was finally able to release himself into you— and then, when you nibble at his lip while a heavenly note of a moan leaves your opened mouth, Mingi's pelvis moves by itself.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," he cusses, having to install one hand at your hips so he doesn't rock you around too much, voice becoming high and needy, greed messing with the practiced way he thrusts into you, becoming sloppy and all the while passionate, chasing the speed it takes to make you feel the best and even better. His other hand slides onto your clit, and it does so by muscle memory, knowing exactly where to rub so you clench around him, scream out his name.

"I love you so much, baby, I want you so bad, and I'm— fuck," he heaves, his voice catching up with his movement, "I'm going to love you until we grow old, baby, I want to be with you until the end of our days— I," and Mingi is rambling his free mind here, his whole body, mind and soul at your service, "I want you to have me forever, Y/N."

"Mingi," you whine, and his cock doesn't stop hitting your soft-spot, your clit tingling from his thumb, making you dopey, skipping you through time, to a future where you lay with Mingi in bed at the same late hour, both heads fuming from work, trying to your steam off together now, worried that your kids will hear your words, grunting silently into each other's ears, the words being, "I'm gonna cum!"

Oh, what good days await you two, and how straight you're heading for it, too— with Mingi's breathing being cut short, coming out stuttered from how fast he's ramming himself into you, not too rough, but fluidly and ceaselessly until you are gasping for air, feeling the string be stretched further and further, pulled for release, spiralled by your husband's vigor and his panting; "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum so fucking bad, fuck!"

Mingi soaks sweatily in your words, his hair chaotic, his abs glistening from the heat of it all— you yank your hand out his mouth, your lower body curling up— "Fuck, baby!"

And with your tightened cunt Mingi lets out a deep, whole-hearted grumble, falling flat on your body, as he spasms; his hot, thick semen shot seeps through along the tip of his cock out your cunt, needing to be fucked right back into you so it doesn’t get lost on your sheets— you seeing absolute bliss, as he pistons into you one last time, eyes focused on your husband.

“Baby,” Mingi pants, and with your gazes meeting, his lips rush over to your cheek, pecking you one, two, three times— and then, on your lips one, two— no, holding one long kiss with you, his plump, rosy softness making your body melt into the mattress, as it falls deeper in slumber. “I love you,” he whispers into your kiss, tucking some of your hair behind your ear, “my baby.”

He pulls out, infamously slow, making you heave on his length even after you both finished. “Mingi,” you exhale, feeling your eyelids close by themselves, your husband slightly chuckling.

“Sorry, baby,” he says, caressing your waist and cheek, “you need anything?”

“Oh, Mingi,” you laugh; Mingi can't help himself, can he? Will always ask for your wishes, wishing to grant them, like he's some wizard, a magician, a devoted believer of your enjoyment and happiness— "You did all you could have done, baby."

"Really?"

"Come on, Mingi, you big baby, c'mere."

He huffs, a bit sulky maybe, your silly husband, getting the blanket from the bed to throw it over his shoulder and wham, over you— cuddling you in, for now ignoring that the both of you need a hot, steamy shower, just breathing in and out your presence, your sweet, dulcet presence, which caramelizes in his warmth, against his body, melting.

"Thank you for being there for me, baby," you smile, voice dampened by the blanket, but Mingi understands you just well enough.

You don't need to thank him. Mingi knows you know that. He's obsessed with you, and though you could try and say you're just as obsessed, your husband will try everything to your favour to prove otherwise.

As Mingi throws his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close to his breast, making you listen to his heartbeat, beating just for you, you hear him whisper all kinds of affirmations. 'I'll never leave your side, I'll never make you feel lonely, I'll be yours forever.”

A career? A family? A happy life?

It's all waiting for you, patiently, each day and night you leave and come back home— in office clothes and a chaotic mind— watching, admiring, hoping to get the weight of responsibility off your shoulders, get you a taste of freedom, a taste of the fruits of your labour.

"Are you asleep?", he asks and you groan silently, pressing your face deeper down his armpit. "Baby..."

Mingi chuckles. You need this sleep, totally, but you also need to be cleaned up, which gives him the challenge to grab you by your leg the most gentle way he can, lift you up— and, when you lie in his embrace, head snuggled into his breast— he’s careful to not wake you up with the sounds of water splashing down his hand, as he soaps you in.

It’s difficult, this is difficult, it will all be so difficult— but Mingi, being your husband, your soul-mate, your everything, he’s putting his all on it to make it work.

(Work you up, make you work for it; until your voice is hoarse, until your body shakes, until your head is light and you can do it, all over again, the next day, evening and night.

“Happy wife, happy life!”

(Maybe Mingi embraces his new role as the father of your children too much.))

#song mingi smut #song mingi fluff #song mingi x reader #song mingi x y/n #song mingi scenarios #song mingi imagine #ateez x reader #ateez smut #chokkiwa #chokko

[atlasnessie]

DAYCARE PICK UP !! let’s go home, lovely

osamu & chuuya as daddies picking up their poor adorable baby girl up from daycare !! ( same names as the other fic guys mb lawll )

early fall always made dazai’s heart turn in a different way. the ways the leaves on the trees change colors and die down for the new generation, it made his heart feel melancholic in the windy weather. however, the waves of unknown emotions had to subside. today, osamu dazai has taken on the task of picking up his daughter from daycare. you have entrusted him to be on time, no later than five for that was when all the other children would be leaving with their own parents and guardians and, oh dear, it would be terrible to leave your poor daughter all alone with no one to play with, wouldn’t it ?

as osamu stepped into the small daycare, he was relieved to see his daughter with a few other kids, playing with a small kitchen set and siring up a pot filled with fake carrots and lettuce leaves. he was always worried she would be outcasted like him. as one of the workers called akane over, she dropped all her things and smiled, rushing over to her father. the daycare workers grabbed for akanes bags and belongings, handing them over to osamu with a smile as the both of them left.

the walk to the house was filled with small chatter and dazai carrying akane by the shoulders, his big hands holding his daughters legs in a protective manner as akane messed with his chocolate hair.

“how was today, dear ?”

“was fun. we did finger painting !! look; it’s flowers, the sun, clouds, and this is mommy, and this is you !” as akane held a paper in front of dazai’s face, he stopped walking and stepped to the side of the sidewalk. despite the paper being far too close to his face, he could make out small blobs and streaks of hair that rested on (what seemed like) your head in the drawing. dazai wore a dolly smile on the drawing, the crescent shaky and uneven, but it gave himself flavor.

“oh, this is wonderful !! let’s go home and show mommy, yeah ? and then we can put it on the fridge together, how about it ?”

chuuya told you there was no need for a daycare. he could just hire a nanny to look for chiyo for the day while the two of you were away or you could stay home with her, he makes more than enough money for the three of you. but you insisted, saying it would be good for your daughter to play with other kids rather than a nanny. and to chuuya, your words are almost law to him, he’ll follow it if it makes you happy.

which now leads to where chuuya is now. his chauffeur stops in front of the daycare as chuuya thanks him, telling him that he could park somewhere before opening the door and walking in. with his hands in his pockets, chuuya turned his head from wall to wall. papers filled with drawings filled the halls, along with small decorations such as paper chains made by the children and cut outs by the teachers and workers. it wasn’t a fancy place as chuuya wanted, it was rather normal, in fact. a plain exterior complemented with nicely decorated hallways.

as nakahara walked further in the daycare, he stopped at the familiar door and knocked gently with a gloved hand. the door was cut in two, the top half open while the bottom half was lock closed. chuuya liked this door, he could see his daughter without the anticipation of wondering where chiyo was and what she was doing. a worker walked over and smiled neatly at chuuya before calling for chiyo. the girl, dressed neatly and hair done to perfection, ran over to the door as chuuya waved. grabbing her things, chiyo waved goodbye to her friends before holding her fathers big hands in hers.

“‘ya had fun, pretty ?”

“mhm ! we painted and drew lots. we also made tomato-lettuce-apple-leaf soup outside in the playground !” chiyo hopped around as she stepped over the tile lines, jumping slightly higher with the help of chuuyas hands and arms lifting her up gently.

“oh yeah ? that sounds like real fun. hey, mommy’s making food back at home, hope you’re not too full from your … err — soup from earlier.”

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs dazai #bsd dazai #osamu dazai #dazai x reader #dazai x you #bsd fluff #bungo stray dogs chuuya #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #atlas writes !

[rainylana]

“Something you wanted.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

Summary: you show up to Eddie and Wayne’s with gifts.

Warnings: language, very soft eddie, eddie doesn’t know how to react to presents, some insecurities on his behalf, new relationship with him and the reader. i hope everyone had a great christmas!!<3 okay and also i’m not going to do my taglist anymore because that’s a pain in the ass so sorry for my laziness!!

“Merry Christmas!” You beamed, lugging in bags of christmas presents in your arms, huffing a breath as you tried to cram yourself in the door.

“Uh- babe,” Eddie helped usher you through the door, eyeing your skeptically. “Why do you look like Santa Clause?”

You chuckled as you dropped your gifts to the floor, face red from the cold. “I look like mrs. clause, thank you very much. You like my skirt?” You twirled your red and white skirt, matched with a red sweater and a santa hat on your head.

“What are you doing here?” He started patting the snow off your shoulders, closing the door to his home. “Thought you’d weren’t coming over till tomorrow.”

“Well tomorrow won’t be christmas anymore!” You smiled, looking around the trailer. “Is Wayne here?”

Eddie gave you another weird look before turning. “Old man! Y/n’s here!” When he looked back you were on the ground shuffling through your gift backs.

“What are those for?”

You paused, looking up at him to give a funny look. “What do you think they’re for? They’re for you guys, dummy! Christmas presents!”

“All of these?!” His eyes widened. “Y/n- no way, you shouldn’t have.”

“I know that.” You chuckled, taking them out one by one at his feet. “But I wanted too.”

“Why is Santa in our living room?” Wayne announced himself, standing in the kitchen with a raised brow.

“Merry Christmas, Wayne!” You waved, sparking off your pearly teeth. “You guys go sit down so I can pass these out!”

Eddie looked to his guardian with confused eyes, not sure what to do. Wayne muttered under his breath as he made his way to the couch, nodding for Eddie to sit down.

“Okay, so I have these labeled.” You crawled over to their feet with two gifts in hand. “Read what it says.” You sat them in their lap.

Eddie was looking at it like it was a ticking time bomb, while Wayne fished out his reading glasses. “Something you need.” His voice came out in a deep hum.

“Are we supposed to open it?” Eddie said confused.

Wayne rolled his eyes as you laughed. “Yeah, Eddie, open it!”

He nodded before both of them started to tear open the paper, and you noticed how Eddie kept looking at you, then to the other gifts you had behind you.

“Underwear?” Eddie raised a brow, holding up a five back of boxers.

“Oh, thank god,” Wayne exhaled. “You’ve been living in those blue checkered ones for three years now.”

“I have not!” Eddie burned red, straightening. “Quit talking, old man, and open you’re shit.”

“Hey, I’m the one who does your laundry, boy, I outta know.”

You giggled behind your teeth, watching as Eddie felt the fabric at the opening, giving you an awkward smile.

“Batteries?” Wayne said skeptically.

“Uh-huh!” You nodded. “Because the last time I was over you were bitching about your flashlight dying with those old batteries, so know you don’t have to bitch!”

“Thank god.” Eddie praised. “Say, thank you, old man.”

Wayne gave his nephew a glare before giving you a grateful nod. “Thanks, kid.”

“You’re welcome.” You nodded back. “Okay, next!” You reached behind you to grab two other gifts, making their jaw drop.

“Y/n, you didn’t have to do all of this.” Eddie furrowed his brows as you placed another gift in his lap. “We don’t need-”

“Something to read.” Wayne read the label on the red paper before tearing it open.

Eddie hurried to catch up.

“Hey, nice,” Wayne chuckled. “Peanuts comics.” He showed to Eddie. Wayne liked to read the comics in the paper before work, especially peanuts and Garfield. “Thanks, doll.”

“No fucking way.” Eddie cursed, revealing a thick, brown book. “You did not.” His eyes were wide as saucers. “Y/n, this is-”

“Not as expensive as you think.” You finished for him, grabbing his calf. “Just look inside, it’s actually pretty cool!”

It was a collectors edition version of The Fellowship of the Ring, maps on the inside, facts of lore and inspiration from the author. Eddie had seen it once in a bookstore in Indianapolis. That was four months ago.

“Pretty cool?” Eddie’s voice rose an octave. “Babe, this is amazing.” He looked over at Wayne, holding up his book as the man smiled at him. “Look away, old man.” Eddie flung his hand toward Wayne as he leaned down to give you a peck on the lips. “Thank you so much.” Eddie allowed himself to smile. “Really, thanks a lot. This is epic.”

You blushed, your heart warming at his own happiness. “Okay last one.” You placed two other gifts in their lap as wrapping paper laid down at their feet.

“Something you wanted.” Eddie read this time, giving you a smile.

Wayne tore into his quickly, making you laugh as he revealed his present. “Now, just how and the hell did you know I wanted this?” Wayne chuckled, holding out his new leather wallet. It was expensive, but they didn’t need to know that.

“I specifically heard you say damn wallet one day when the zipper was stuck.” You smirked, patting his knee.

“New chains!” Eddie squealed that time, nearly jumping in his seat. “Holy shit, thank you!”

You smiled widely, then over to Wayne who looked very proud. “You’re welcome, Ed’s.”

“These will look perfect on my black jeans, don’t you think?” He asked, taking them out of the package.

“Without a doubt.” You tossed off your santa hat, getting hot. “Look right sexy.”

And then Eddie got quiet. Very quiet. Both you and Wayne noticed it, but he was the first to say something. “You okay, bud?”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything, keeping his head down. You tried to find his eyes but couldn’t, chewing on your lip nervously. He had seemed to like everything.

Wayne mentioned something about going out for a smoke, stepping over the wrapping paper and thanking you once more for the gifts.

“Eddie, what’s wrong?” You grabbed his ankle. “You’re quiet all of a sudden.”

Your heart sank when you saw he was crying. “Hey,” you said gently, moving to sit beside him on the couch. “Eddie, what’s wrong? I saved the receipts if you want to exchange them.”

“Exchange them?” Eddie looked at you, eyes tearful and red. “No, y/n, it isn’t that. It’s just…”

This wasn’t normal for him. Wayne and him would give each other something small sure, but someone coming into their home with gifts wasn’t normal. Someone thinking of them for a change wasn’t normal. You should of realized, but it wasn’t your fault. This was your first christmas with him.

“Hey,” You grabbed his red cheeks. “You deserve every little bit of this and more, you hear me?” You wiped his tears with your thumbs. “You’re my boyfriend and I love you. I wanted to do this.”

“I’m sorry,” He shook his head shamefully. “I just..well, I’m not very good at this stuff. I have something for you too, but it’s not near as good as all of this.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, baby.” You shook your head. “That’s not what this is about. I just want you to know how much I care about you, is all. That’s what this time of year is for. Both you and Wayne deserve it.”

Eddie allowed himself to shed one more tear before he buried his face under your chin, pressing his nose against your collar bone. “I love you so much. I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes, you do.” You wrapped your arms around him, kissing his ear. “Both of you deserve this.”

You could feel his tears slide down your skin, and you held him tightly close, knowing Wayne was outside probably close to freezing to death. When you heard his sniffled stop, you peaked down at him with a smile. “Should we go check on your uncle? He’s probably an ice block by now.”

Eddie chuckled and sniffled, using his sleeve to wipe his tears. “Yeah, let’s go check on the old man.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #soft eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagines #eddie stranger things #eddie blurb #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x you #christmas eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons