#making it so that other people need HER is her forte and her passion . it's a power thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sawyer-is-not-my-name · 1 year

Text

Will Solace x half-Sibling reader x Apollo (platonic/family dynamic)

Cw: the readers mom is toxic at times and controlling

You sat in cabin 7, a lyre in hand the music seeming to just pour out of you, it was a natural born gift you had. Or at least that's what your mom called it. You brows furrowed as you shook your head, not liking the way it seemed to play. It wasn't perfect you knew your mom would've said something about it, if she were in the room. You put down the instrument, frustrated that your mom was all you could think of. You were in your father's cabin for gods sake, why were you only thinking of your mom.

You tried to forget about all the competitions you had done for your musical skill, all the time you spent practicing instead of sleeping, the strive you were forced to have to be perfect. A wrong note would've gotten you grounded, your mom only expected the best. She needed you to be the best, almost as if you winning all those competitions would bring your father back to her. It was exhausting.

You felt tears well up as tried your best to hold it together. You wanted more than anything to quit playing music, something you couldn't even escape while at camp. You had to practice so when you went back home after the summer, you'd be able to go straight back into competitions. If you didn't do well at the competitions you wouldn't be able to come back to camp. That was the deal you had with your mother. You couldn't even stop and try doing other things, all your time went to practicing.

You wanted to break the stupid the lyre, but you felt as though your dad wouldn't like that. Your shoulders gave way as you leaned down, getting ready to pick the lyre back up.

"hey, do you mind helping me in the infirmary today? There's gonna be a match of capture the flag today, so there's bound to be far too many injuries along with that." You nodded while standing up, you weren't one to go off and do things when you were supposed to be practing, but he needed help. "Yeah I can help, I'm not sure if I'll be much help but yeah I can try!" He smiled at you, "you're an Apollo kid, trust me you at least have some medical talent, even if music is your forte." The music joke, flew over your head though.

He could tell that you weren't fully invested in music, he realized pretty early on that you struggled reading music the first time you saw it, most of your skill came from muscle memory. You memorized the movements not the notes, he knew your passion wasn't music, and he was making it his mission to help you realize that. So when he saw you sitting there clearly upset and frustrated with the lyre in your hands, he decided to have you help him.

-----

He brought you into the infirmary with him, showing you around pointing out the various tools you might need, showing you where the ambrosia was. He could almost see a hint of a spark in your eyes as he showed you how to use things.

Kayla came up to you both, "Will, I really hope your gonna have him help you so you can teach him. You're not just gonna send him on his own right?" Will laughed slightly, "yes he's gonna help me, I wasn't planning on leaving him to figure it all out, I don't wanna overwhelm the poor boy on his first day in the infirmary." He smiled at you warmly.

----

When people started coming in it was you were a little overwhelmed, but then you seemed to know what to do. As if a voice in your head told you everything, maybe your father was helping you, or maybe it was just what you were meant to do. If people weren't in pain, maybe you'd even call it fun.

A few campers in, Will let you take the reigns, settling for supervising to make sure you didn't mess up. You were doing amazing he didn't have to tell you what to do, or correct your methods, you were acting as if you'd been doing this as long as he had.

When he was sure that you were okay on your own he told you he was gonna leave you to help other patients. You just smiled at him and nodded. He left to help a camper by Kayla.

"Have you seen y/n? He's doing amazing, he's a natural Kayla!" She nodded agreeing, "I'm gonna be honest, I didn't have much hope but he's a natural healer! I thought his thing was music, but he's doing amazing here! I think he's a healer!" Both of them were on the same page.

----

By the end up the day, you found yourself proud. You seemed so good at healing, and it was something you liked doing.

You sat at the Apollo table next to Will at dinner. Your half brother turned to look at you before saying, "you think you could help us in the infirmary tomorrow? You're really good at it, and we could use the extra help!" You shook your head, reality sinking in, "I have to go back to practicing tomorrow." Your stomach felt weak at the thought, your mother was very clear about what your future held. Medicine wasn't in that, she wanted you to have fame, money she wanted you to do something that would benefit her. When you learned of your father, you had asked her about taking a different path, and that didn't go well.

You got up and left the table. Your food left uneaten, no longer having an appetite. Your feet took you back to the cabin, your bunk near the back. You sat down grabbing your lyre and started practing from memory. The cords strumming out fine, but fine wasn't enough. You kept trying until it was perfect, before moving onto playing the violin your mother had insisted you also learned this summer, stating that the lyre wasn't enough anymore. Your fingers ached, but you kept going while everyone was at dinner.

----

By the time everyone was back, you were asleep the lyre and violin stuffed back under your bunk. Will was a little disappointed as he was planning to talk to you, but he didn't let himself dwell on it, he'd talk to you tomorrow.

When he woke up though, you were already gone. Your violin and lyre missing, but the rest of your stuff still here. You had gone somewhere else to practice. He was disappointed, he was. He wanted to talk to you, to try and see if you were okay.

----

You were outside by the lake, practicing the violin. The sheet music had note names scribbled in. Your hands already ached not used to playing the violin, you were miserable your brain hurt as well, from trying to read the music, but you didn't stop.

You kept doing that for a week, you weren't getting better in fact you seemed to get worse. Will's concern for you grew, his younger brother was never around him let alone around the camp at all. He didn't even know where you went off too during the day.

----

Today however you woke up, and went grab your violin and lyre but they were missing. They weren't anywhere to be seen, not under the bed, not in the cabin, not outside of the cabin. They were nowhere.

You sat down outside the cabin worried, what would you tell your mother. That you lost the new Violin your mother bought and the lyre your father had gifted you. Oh hades! What would your father even think, you lost one of the only things he ever gave you.

You put your head in your hand and just cried, you hadn't noticed the way the sun shone down on you, or the presence that appeared beside you. "My child, you must go easy on yourself." You looked up your father right beside you, his aura seemed to calm you but not enough. "I'm sorry father" the words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them, you figured he was hear to yell at you for losing the lyre. Your father shook his head, "Son, it was not your fault. You didn't lose anything, I took them." You looked at him shocked, you didn't know whether to be made at him or if you should be grateful.

"you weren't meant to do music, it's not where your abilities lie. Don't push yourself for something, that you don't want to do." You shook your head, "I can't, what would I even tell my mother. If I don't do music, I can't come back to camp." Your father sighed, "how about we talk to your mother together?" You nodded, he stood up offering you a hand, "now?" He nodded "now, son" you stood up taking his hand before he transported you both to your moms.

You stood in the kitchen trembling slightly behind your father, your mother didn't look happy. "What'd he do?" Apollo shook his head, "nothing, I took the lyre and the violin. He's not having a career in music. It's not what he was meant to do." Your mother looked pissed, but it was clear she knew better than to argue with a god. "You're not supposed to interfere directly." He shook his head. "I didn't, I acted through someone else."

He had helped Will notice y/n, and he had asked a favor from Hermes to get one of his boys to steal the lyre and violin. So he hadn't interfered directly. "My son will choose his own path." He didn't have to say anything else. Your mother knew better than to argue anymore than she had, if she argued things would probably end badly for her. She just nodded, your father smiled at you, before bringing you back to camp.

He brought you to the infirmary, walking in and bringing you towards Will. "He's gonna be working in here from now on, I think" Apollo looked down at you for approval, you had the option to say no, just having the option was enough, but you had a feeling healing was the way you wanted to go. "Yeah, if that's okay with you Will?" Will nodded smiling at you, "of course it is okay, you're a natural literally!" You smiled at your brother, going to turn around to say a 'thank you' to your father but he was gone. You had a feeling he already knew though.

#male reader insert #pjo hoo toa #pjo #pjo x male reader #riordanverse #x male reader #male reader #fanfic #percy jackson #will solace x m reader #will solace x reader #will solace x m!reader #will solace x male reader #will solace

171 notes · View notes

bellybiologist · 9 months

Text

TLDR: Verzi Need Money. Here Link for Helping Fill Money Bar with Money Juice. -Ko-fi -Commission form (Open again! Note the price increase!) -Patreon -Paypal.me

Okay! Verzi need money. So! Here's this.

This shitty meter here is just for a bit of transparency (Graphic design is NOT my passion), cuz people like to know where there money is going. This will fill up as with funds from my patreon (money I got this month is already there!), from commissions, and from any tips/extras given by kind souls in passing, and I need to hit these marks EVERY month for like… a year. (This is after fees and such of course, cuz god forbid we don't pay the middle-men their dues.)

I will update this thing as time passes so ya'll will know where I'm at. Reblogging/Sharing is welcome, encouraged, and greatly appreciated!

A bit of info for each section under the Readmore:

-Rent and Bills: The Most Important thing to Keep Verzi Kickin'! I pay half my apartment's now $1368 rent PLUS the utilities, which range from 100~200 bucks, splitting with my aunt who works 2 jobs to make sure she pays her half. Since my mom passed away from Pancreatic cancer in 2021, this has been rough since it used to be split 3 ways.

-Dental Costs: The face bone doctors want my money after drilling holes and pulling out the insides!! My face actually feels BETTER so i'm not as mad as I COULD be about this, but this needs to be paid for the next 12 months. (And they want MORE money to do a cleaning and I almost laughed. Like, no buddy you ain't getting 750 out of me when I don't even have a refrigerator.(See Below))

-Big Purchase+Credit Card bills: It wont pay off ALL my credit card debt, but it keeps me from falling behind. Since the passing of Michael and Fred (my microwave and refrigerator respectively) I need to make some big purchases so my kitchen functions. Michael has been successfully replaced by Mikaela, and we are still looking for Fred's replacement. Ms. Frida, the chest freezer who is literally older than I am (I am 33!!) and STILL functions is holding down the fort while we look for a refrigerator. We can live without a fridge thanks to her constant service, allowing us to keep frozens. Also, like, literally on the 30th of July, Monty the Monitor must've succumbed to heatstroke so i had to buy one of THOSE too for my computer setup. I will name all my appliances to cope.

-Extra+Taxes: Once we get here, I'm in the clear for the month's expenses! However!! Taxes are due in October. I DO NOT know how much that will be, and since the whole Covid relief thing that lessened business taxes ended last year, I MAY be paying for quite a bit!! Anything past this point will be prepping for Taxes AND forming a buffer for More Happenings (God forbid).

===== Rewards??? Rewards!! =====

I considered a Drive like other kink artists in these circles, but I don't like drives for several reasons and those reasons are why I've never done one in the past. Despite that, I STILL want to do something that at least feels like a reward or incentive for people keeping me Alive™, so I'm going to do some simple doodles/sketches, and possibly try to stream those doodles in my discord!

Every 100 bucks past the "Rent and Bills Paid" section (meaning at 900 dollars and onward), I will do a RANDOM drawing from any requests/suggestions from the pool made by people who threw some cash monies my way!

Suggestions can be sent in through Ko-fi messages, Paypal notes accompanying payments/donations/tips, and a Patreon-only post (they are always giving me money, so patrons have access by default!). Commissioners who send in the form can ALSO suggest something for the pool if they like! (there's a question on the form for it) Now, like all requests, it's ultimately up to my discretion on whether or not I will draw something, but I will still try to keep it random and let it be a roll of the dice (or a RNG app).

There is no minimum requirement either! So people throwing only $1 at me, buying only one Ko-fi, or dropping anything bigger are free to offer a suggestion. But please limit requests/suggestions to one entry per person.

Now, as to what these will and can be:

-It will be a simple lined sketch with one color or flat colors. Depends on how many need doing, how I'm feeling when I draw it and how complicated it is.

-It can be up to 2 characters, but they may be less refined compared to a single character one. They can be the same character in 2 different states, or 2 different characters interacting with each other.

-No private requests please! It will have to be something that can be publicly posted and that you're fine with being perceived by others.

-In terms of kinks/sizes/etc, it will be something that you'd normally see on this blog or for my work! Mileage may vary, but more extreme stuff that I'd normally avoid may be glossed over when I'm constructing the pools.

-Unlike commissions, these will not go through a WIP stage/be modified after the fact! They end up how they end up. If you wanna be nitpicky, please use this opportunity to order a full commission!

-You're allowed to suggest OCs as long as it's yours or its owner has given permission to draw them in the context I am known to put boys in!

#Help a sista out #verzi's art

37 notes · View notes

munsonownsmyass · 1 year

Text

Priest!Matt Murdock x reader

Author’s note: what was supposedly a innocent picture shared by @mindidjarin in our TFC server caused a few of us to go feral for Father Matthew. And here's my contribution 😅

Oh, and just because I really needed Matt with the glasses, let's pretend he's almost blind 😆

And I have to say religion is not my forte, so if I've made a mistake, I'm sorry. I tried to do some research 🙈

Warnings: Oh Lord, where to begin? Sacrilege, blasphemous behavior, probably incorrect use of prayers/confessions, taking some liberties with the size of a confession booth, biblical references, corruption, Father Matthew is a virgin (because i said so!), SMUT! 18+. Implied masturbation, Oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, choking, cream pie, body worship, Catholic guilt. Let's just say I'm gonna burn in hell for this.

Words: 4K. I'm sorry, I couldn't stop.

”Church? Really?”

You can’t hide your disgust and instantly you see your roommate's smile fade. You don’t mean to offend her, not really, religion has just never been your thing. Never even been to church, you can’t really imagine going now.

“Come on. It’s always so nice to go during the holidays.” Laura tries, taking your hands in hers. “Please. For me? You only have to go once if you don’t like it, promise.”

Laura gives you a pleading smile and you feel yourself give in. She’s the kindest person ever, so how can you even say no to her? And maybe it won’t be so bad.

“But… Am I even allowed to go?” you ask with a shrug of your shoulders, causing Laura to laugh. She just wraps her arms around you, before giving your forehead a kiss.

“Of course, silly. What do you think will happen? You’d burst into flames?” she giggles before walking towards the kitchen to get your dinner started. Little does she know that is exactly what you’re thinking.

You weren’t exactly a complete sinner, but you weren’t a wallflower either. Never been afraid to try things, you’re quite sure you’ve done things Laura haven’t even heard off. She’s probably spray you with holy water if she knew. It’s quite ironic you ended up with a good modest catholic girl as your roommate, when you live in Hell’s Kitchen of all places.

The following Sunday you find yourself in front of Clinton Church with an overly excited Laura at your side. Her family would go to church religiously every Sunday and she never missed one. After moving to Hell’s Kitchen, she had quickly found a new church and according to her, the priest here were amazing and really inspiring, whatever that means.

Laura drags you all the way up to the front. You’re about to protest, hoping you could have hidden in a corner, when you hear people fall silent. Looking up at the alter, you see the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen.

“Who’s that?” you whisper, earning an annoyed look from Laura. “That’s the priest. Now shush.”

And you do. Not because she told you too, but because you wouldn’t even be able to form words if you tried. You’re instantly drawn to him. His dimples when he smiles, his smooth voice as he talks passionately throughout the sermon, his beautiful eyes as they look over his congregation.

After the service, Laura drags you up to the priest, wanting to introduce you. “Father Matthew, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” She says softly, causing him to turn around. He’s even more handsome up close and you feel your mouth go dry. Laura gives him your name and when he repeats it, you feel yourself blush.

“Welcome. It’s good to have you with us.” He says with a bright smile, taking your hands in his. “If there’s ever anything, my office is always open.”

Oh, if only he knew what you were thinking right now. You nod politely, thanking him. Another person demands his presence, so he bids you farewell with another killer smile, making your knees weak. Unable to tear your eyes away, you eye him as he talks to the other attendants. Charming, handsome and passionate. You start to see the appeal of going to church.

A few days later you find Laura knee-deep in flour when you come home from work, the kitchen looking like a mess.

“What’s going on?” You ask with a grin, trying to help lessen the damage. With a heavy sigh, she sits down on a stool, pulling some dough out from her hair.

“There’s a bake sale at the church. I want to help.” She huffs out, pouting like a child. You can’t help but laugh softly, helping her with another lump of dough.

“Let me bake it for you.” You pat her shoulder, as you return to the counter and start cleaning up some of the mess she’s made. An idea pops into your head. “Maybe I should come to the bake sale. Help you out.”

At that she stops and look at you, confusion written all over her face. “You? Wanna help? But you don’t even believe in God.”

“No, but I believe in Father Matthew’s ass.” You grin, but stopping as soon as you see the horrified expression on Laura’s face. “What?”

“You really shouldn’t talk about a priest like that.” She counters, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t think a man as devout as him would appreciate it.”

“Oh, come on!” You grin, leaning against the counter as you face her, arms crossed over your chest. “You make it sound like it’s a sin or something. I’m just saying he’s hot.”

Laura avoids your gaze, her fingers fidgeting with the little piece of dough she pulled from her hair. She’s clearly uncomfortable, trying to find the right words. “But… It kinda is forbidden. I mean, he’s a priest. A catholic priest. They have to abstain from such things.”

Putting down the spoon in your hand, you look at her confused, replaying her words in your mind. “So… You’re telling me Father Matthew is a virgin?!”

“Not that it’s any of our business to discuss, but…” she pauses, her cheeks a bright pink, clearly not used to conversations like this. “It’s most likely, yes.”

And with that she walks away, done with the conversation. Shaking your head in disbelief, you save the batter before pouring it into a pan. You couldn’t wrap your head around a guy like him being a virgin. So charismatic and kind, there was no way.

The next day at the bake sale, Father Matthew comes over to thank you for the help. You generously offer to help whenever he needs it, which is how you found yourself helping out at the church several times a week. Whatever it took to get closer to Father Matthew.

He was like this forbidden fruit, a beacon calling you in like a moth to a flame. You always found yourself smiling in his company, craving his attention. And you dont think the affection is one sided. Father Matthew smiles more in your presence, always finding reasons to be near you.

Small fleeting touches would send your heart soaring. You wondered if he knew the effect he had on you, how much you longed for him.

Especially late at night, laying alone in your bed, you found your thoughts invaded by him. How his perfect body would feel against yours. How those lips would feel, trailing kisses over every inch of your skin. His voice whispering sweet praises in your ears.

It really wasn’t fair. A pious and devout man with an ass and lips made for sin, and you couldn’t touch him. You were starting to think that if there really was a God, he certainly was a cruel one.

It’s a quiet day at the church, not really anything to do. But still you stayed, talking to Matthew about… anything really. Today he talked about how his life sometimes had been lonely before he found his calling. The words from Laura still ringing in your head, you find your courage to finally ask the question that’s been burning to come out.

“Have you never been curious?” Your ask, your fingers grazing the rows of benches as you make your way over to Matthew. Looking to you briefly, he just offers a smile as he keeps putting the bibles in place.

“It's my job to be curious, but for the sake of argument. Curious about what?”

“What I mean is…” You step forward, further closing the distance between you and Father Murdock. “Have you ever been tempted?”

He swallows hard and you hear his breathing get heavier. Licking his lips, he puts down the bible and turn to you. “I have.”

You know you shouldn’t, but you walk closer still, your body almost touching his. “And you never wanted to give in to temptation?”

“Tha-that would be a sin.” He breathes out, clearly affected by you. “The, uhm… The devil often sends temptations in the most…” he pauses, breathing strained as his hand comes to rest on the bench in front of him, knuckles almost turning white as he clenches around the wood. “Alluring forms. All to test our faith.”

“And how strong are you in your faith, Father?” you breathe out, using every single ounce of willpower not to kiss him. Never one to believe, you feel yourself praying for strength to resist him.

“Not-” he swallows, turning his head to you, his face a mere inch from yours. “Not as strong as I want to be.”

The air between you is thick. You want to lean in, claim his lips with your own. Your whole body is screaming for him. It’s so forbidden, but you don’t care. You want him more than you’ve ever wanted a man before. Needing him like you're drawing and he is air.

Unable to hold back any longer, you lean forward and gently press your lips to his in a sweet, brief kiss. Petrified, he stands there wide eyed, mouth slightly ajar.

The door to the church opens, causing Father Matthew to break away from you. His face flustered, bottom lip quivering as he tries to compose himself. He looks to the man who entered the church, swallowing hard, as he takes one of the bibles, using it to cover his erection.

“I-I must go.” He stutters, fixing his glasses and smoothes down his hair, trying to look unphased when in fact his insides are in turmoil, his soul on fire from your kiss. He gives you a soft smile, his free hand squeezing your arm, before he walks down the aisle.

You sit down in the confession booth, waiting. It’s not long before the hatch slides away, the unmistakable voice of Matt Murdock greeting you.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. This is my first time confessing.”

His breathing changes. He knows it’s you. He shifts in his seat, clearing his throat before he speaks. “What do you have to atone for, my child?”

“I have had unpure thoughts of a man I shouldn’t lust after. A man of the church. I feel myself drawn to him.” You confess, looking to the little window between you and Matthew. “I… I have touched myself thinking about him.”

“Oh God.” He breathes out, barely above a whisper.

“I have thought about all the ways I could please him. How he would feel inside me.”

A soft whimper fills the air. You can hear him squirming beside you, finding it hard to sit still. “I wonder if he thinks of me too. If he has laid there in the darkness, hard at the thought of me.”

“Please… Don’t…” is all he manages to say, hearing the struggle in his voice. “I can’t…”

In that moment you give hell to everything, leaving the booth and find yourself opening the door to his side. Father Matthew looks up, breathing coming out hard, as he tries to control himself. His cock is straining against the zipper, begging to be released. He tries to hide it, ashamed of how little self-control he has around you.

You walk in, not even bothering to close the door behind you before you straddle his lap, your core rubbing against his hard length. He whimpers at the contact, muttering prayers under his breath.

“Tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll go.” You say, the pleading clear. You want him with every fiber of your being, already soaked through your panties. A wicked part of you wants to ruin him, wants to know you were the one taking his innocence, right here before the eyes of God.

“You know I can’t.” He looks up, eyes glazed over with lust. He swallows hard, his hand cupping your cheek. He prays that you have the strength to leave, because his is faltering. Leaning in closer, your breath ghost over his lips, causing him to shiver.

“Please don’t. I… I’m not strong enough to resist you.” He stutters, not breaking away. You claim his lips in a soft, almost timid kiss. Moans fill the air as he feels your soft lips against his. Deepening the kiss, you grind against him, feeling how hard he is under you.

Your hands move down his chest, cupping his bulge, eliciting sweet whimpers from Father Matthew. You push away, falling to your knees, the cold stones hard against your skin. You unzip his pants, hand wrapping around his weeping cock, so desperate for attention. Father Matthew puts his hand over yours, causing you to stop.

“No, we can’t… ” He tries to protest, yet his hips jerk up into your hand, whimpering at the friction. At that you just smile softly, taking him into your mouth down to the base, getting a loud moan from him. Father Matthew throws his head back, eyes open, thinking about the lifeless figure hanging over the alter, judging him.

“God forgive me.” He whimpers, his fingers gripping onto the bench beneath him. You bob your head, moaning as his tip hit the back of your throat. The vibrations of your moan sending shivers through Farther Matthew, making him squirm under you, before he stops you by pushing your head away.

He falls to his knees, facing you. His eyes almost find yours, the intensity of the moment making his heart swell with something he wishes were weaker, so he could ignore it. But he can’t. His hands move to the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head, uncovering your smooth soft skin that breaks out in goosebumps under his timid touch.

You know it's the first time he's ever touched another human so intimately, so you let his fingers explore your skin, his trembling hands cupping your breasts.

Your heart is beating fast, the sound almost deafening as your lips come together again. You make quick work of the buttons of his shirt, fingers running hungrily over his chest. You hold him tight as you press kisses down his jaw to his throat.

Father Matthews skin burns under your touch, eyes half lidded, heavy with want as his eyes search for you. With a hand flat on his chest, you turn, pushing him back until he’s laying on the floor, his upper body outside the booth. Anyone could walk in and find you, but none of you care. Straddling him, your soaked panties rub over his exposed cock, making him groan under you. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as you grind on him.

Pulling your panties to the side, you take a hold of his cock, slowly lowering yourself onto his hard length. Father Matthew holds his breath as you take him to the base, his mind going blank at how good you feel. “God forgive me.” He chants, over and over, as you fuck yourself on his cock. His whimpers fill the air, the sound echoing throughout the church.

His fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts up into you, unable to hold back. It’s so good, so forbidden. It only takes a few more seconds before Father Matthew comes with a loud groan.

“Oh God!” he moans, eyes closed as he pumps into you one last time before coming to a halt. For a moment, all you hear in the empty church, is your heavy breathing filling the air. After catching his breath, he sits up, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He pushes you off him gently, averting your gaze as he quickly fixing his clothes. Guilt is painted all over his features, his face red with embarrassment as he runs towards his office, leaving you alone on the floor.

A week later, you find yourself outside his office. You want to say your sorry, to seek his forgiveness for being weak. You wanted it, but it wasn’t until you saw the torment on his face that you realized what you had done.

You had taking his virginity, without even thinking about the consequences. You had to make amends. Taking a deep breath, you knock on his door and wait.

“Come in.”

Peaking in, you see him sitting at his desk, a stack of paper before him. His fingers glide over the pages, reading another line, before looking in your direction.

“What can I do for you?”

“I… I wanted to say sorry.” You barely manage to say, voice close to breaking. Father Matthew stop what he's doing, pushing away from his desk.

“You’re not the only one guilty of what happened that day.” He walks up to you, his index finger gently tracing your jaw. “And I’m sorry for leaving you. I just…”

“Felt guilty?” You offer, getting a small smile in return from Father Matthew. Cupping your cheek, he nods softly, sighing at the feeling of your soft skin under his fingers.

“Yes. I cannot allow myself to be tempted.” He pauses, resting his forehead against yours. “But you make it very hard. Make me falter in my faith.”

He breaks away from you, walking back to his desk, the frustration evident. You walk over to Father Matthew, sitting down beside him on the desk. There’s so much you want to say, but you fear the words wouldn’t help. You settle for placing your hand on his, a gesture so innocent compared to what else you've done, but it still feels like you're playing with fire.

Father Matthew looks to his hand, lips quirking up in a little smile, before he turns his hand around, so he can hold yours. His thumb moves in soft circles on the back of your hand, the motion as soothing for him as it is to you.

Looking down at the table, you see a pair of glasses with dark red glass, so unlike the ones he usually wears. "What are the red glasses for? Can you read hidden codes in the books with them?"

"You have watched too many movies." Father Matthew grins, giving your hand a squeeze. He looks in their direction, scratching the back of his head. "Most blind people wear dark shades. Some to hide their eyes, but most because it's easier on the eyes."

"But... you're...?"

"Almost completely blind. Barely any sight left. So it's not long before I'll have to switch these out." He smiles, tapping the clear glasses on his nose.

After that, the two of you sit in silence for a while, none of you daring to speak. Finally, you break the silence.

"Father Matthew, I-"

“I believe you were put on this earth to be my test from God. My apple of Eden.” He interrupts with a pained smile, turning to you, his free hand coming to rest on your cheek. "And now that I've known desire, I fear one taste will never be enough."

You blush, the sacrilege in his words weighing heavy on you. You know what those words could mean, how they could bring ruin to him, as he would sacrifice everything he's worked for, for you.

His lips find yours in an innocent kiss. A silent 'God forgive me' falls from his lips, before they claim yours again. This time less timid as his tongue begs for entrance. It quickly turns heated, frantic, as he moves closer to you, unable to keep his distance any longer.

Father Matthew moves from the desk, only to stand between your parted legs, his hands shaking as they pause on your thighs. He falls to his knees, looking up at you.

“What wicked games our Lord can play, sending someone like you to cross my path.” He breathes out, fingers trembling as they open your jeans. Slowly he pulls them off along with your underwear, exposing you to him. Hands caressing up the length of your legs, causing Father Matthew to shiver.

“No one but you could make a man fall from grace.” He grins, nipping at the tender flesh of your inner thigh, eliciting a string of whimpers from you. “Hail Mary, full of Grace.” He prays, placing soft kisses on your sensitive skin, muttering prayers under his breath. You shiver as he nears your heated core, already soaked for him. He kisses you mound, his breath on your sensitive cunt making you tremble.

“Pray for us sinners, now and in the hour of our death. Amen.” He pleads, his eyes blown wide with lust as he dives in, his tongue licking up your wet slit.

"Oh God… Father Matthew." You moan out, fingers entangling in his hair as he devours you like a man starved. His perfect lips encircle your clit as he starts sucking, pulling a sweet moan from you. His name falls from your lips, like the softest prayer, a hymn more beautiful than any he'd ever heard before.

Lowering himself a little more, he licks at your entrance, the sweet taste of you making him moan into your folds. He grabs a hold of your hips, urging you closer as he pushes his tongue inside of you, wanting to drink you in completely.

Flattening his tongue, he licks up your slit, flicking his tongue over your sensitive bud. It's all too much and with a few more flicks of his tongue, you come undone with his name on your lips.

He keeps nipping at your sensitive core as you come down, your breathing rapid as you look down, marveling in the sight before you. He looks good on his knees, like a good catholic boy praying at the alter that is you.

Pulling him up to his feet, you kiss him with unknown passion, the hunger for him threatening to break you if you don't feel him inside you soon. Father Matthew feverishly pull at his belt, impatiently unzipping his pants. He palms his erection, pumping a few times before he lines up at your entrance, his whole body trembling.

He knows it's a sin, he knows he shouldn't. But he wants you, needs you. Not since he found his calling, his path, has anything called to him as you do. His Lilith, his temptress, unbroken and unbowed as you make this cold office feel like your own Garden of Eden.

Pushing in, his legs almost give in at the feeling of you. Your wet heat, so inviting as he pushes in, soft prayers once again spilling over his lips.

"God, give me strength." He mutters, voice close to breaking, his lips claiming yours in a desperate kiss.

Your tight warmth surrounding him, igniting a furious fire deep in his belly. His hands find your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh. He pulls out slowly, reveling in the feeling of you.

“How can anything that’s a sin feel so good?” He breathes out as he pushes in slowly, inch by delicious inch, before he bottoms out. “I’m sure this is what heaven feels like.”

By the time Father Matthew starts thrusting, you almost sob at the sensation of his hard cock inside you. The stretch is delicious and he takes his time, savoring you and your cunt with slow and deep thrusts. You clench around him, already close again.

He grips you harder, his pace quickening as he gets close to his own release. His hand moves up to your throat, squeezing gently, just enough to make you gasp for air.

"Matthew, please…" You whisper as he claims your lips, the kiss almost bruising as he pistons his hips against you. You scream out your release, fingers digging into Father Matthews shoulders. He only thrusts once more, before he spills inside you, filling you to the brim.

"Jesus Christ!" You pant, feeling how he throbs inside of you. Matthew just chuckles, kissing your forehead sweetly.

"Language. You shouldn't take his name in vain." He says seriously, but soon breaks into a laugh. He kiss you again, quick pecks on your lips, cheeks and nose.

"Sorry, Father." You feign innocence, biting your lip. Father Matthew just sighs, nudging your bottom lip free with his thumb before he kiss you softly.

"What should I do with you?" He laughs, placing another series of soft kisses on your lips.

"I think this calls for lots and lots of private confessions. This little lamb has strayed too far from the path." You grin, kissing his neck. He instantly moans, still new to this kind of intimacy.

What you’ve done, is the ultimate sin and could lead to Father Matthew being excommunicated. Forced to leave the church and his calling. But by the way his cock twitches against your core, you think he's ready to sin some more.

TFC girls: @phoebe-danvers @e-dubbc11 @itwasthereaminuteago @idrinkcoffeeandobsess @saintmurd0ck @mattmurdocksscars @a-bang-for-your-bucky @pedrito-friskito

Tagging a few people. Please just tell me if it's not okay: @lucy-sky @foli-vora @murdockswh0r3 @freshabogados @briefcasejuice @peterman-spideyparker

#priest!matt murdock x reader #priest!matt murdock #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfiction #forgive me father for i have sinned... repeatedly

131 notes · View notes

maybe-abbi · 1 year

Note

Hey there maybe-abbi how is your day i hope your doing great btw can i request some rz Michael myers x fem reader where the reader missed her old band mates and michael decided to make her happy by making a little pillow stage for their s/o:) i'm sorry if its cringe or hard for you to make

Just like old times

RZ! Micheal Myers x Fem! Reader

Micheal knew that Y/n had been down lately, so he decided to change that.

Y/n had been moping around for the past few days. Usually when she was upset, Micheal would just give her some space and wait for her to feel better. He figured that he would just make the situation worse if he tried to get involved with her emotions, considering that emotions weren’t exactly his forte.

However this time was different, Y/n would stay up crying, she was eating less, and she completely refused to speak on the matter. Micheal knew that if he kept ignoring the issue that it was just get worse so he decided to have an intervention.

Y/n was coming home from the store one day, when Micheal pulled her into the living room and sat her down on the couch.

“Micheal, what are you doing?” Y/n asked, slightly confused. Micheal stared at her for a long moment before speaking.

“What’s wrong?” He asked in a husky, monotone voice. Y/n was a little caught off guard since Micheal usually didn’t talk.

“Nothing that you need to worry about hun.” She said trying to ease his worry. Micheal looked at her with a ‘are you serious’ look.

“Really it’s no big deal Micheal, don’t stress about it.” She said in a comforting voice. Micheal looked at her with sad eyes and slowly reached his hand up to cup her face. This made Y/n crack a bit.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so upset lately Micheal, It’s just that since I’ve moved away from my old town, I haven’t been able to perform with my band. The other day I found out that they found a replacement bassist for me, and I guess that just made me realize how much I miss them. I know it sounds dumb, but it’s really hurting me. I mean, performing is my biggest passion, and now I can’t do it.” Y/n rambled quickly, like she was just trying to get the conversation over with.

Micheal looked at her for a while, and then got up and left the room. When he came back he was holding about eight pillows under one arm, and y/n’s bass in the other. He walked over to y/n and pushed the coffee table out of the way, then he started setting up the pillows on the couch and recliners in the room, folding them in half to imitate people in and audience. Then he pulled y/n up and guided her to the middle of the room, handing her the bass guitar in the process. He then took a seat on the couch amongst the makeshift pillow-people and watched her expectingly.

“ Micheal, what the hell is this?” Y/n asked, laughing a bit. Micheal simply used his hands to motion her to start playing. She looked around, slightly embarrassed, but started playing anyway. She played one of her favorite songs to perform with her band. When she finished Micheal clapped for her, which made y/n giggle since he was the only real person watching. She looked at him for a few seconds, then walked over and hugged him.

“Thank you Micheal, this really made me feel better.” She said hugging him tighter. Micheal wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back, he knew that a serious weight had been lifted off of her.

I was so exited when I saw this ask, I can’t get enough of Rz! Micheal. Anyway, I hope this is what you were looking for anon :)

#slashers #slasher x y/n #rz michael myers #micheal myers #micheal myers x reader #rz myers x reader #thomas hewitt #jason vorhees #ghostface #dbd killer

95 notes · View notes

primroseparker · 2 years

Text

I Wish I Were… || TASM!Peter Parker x female!reader (Part 1)

Summary: You and Peter have been childhood friends, yet he doesn’t know how you really feel about him. When he falls for someone else, you use your musical talents as a way to express your feelings.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Angst, unrequited love (?)

A/N: Hi, everyone! This is my first fic ever, so please excuse the horrible writing. I’ve wanted to write this for so long now. I got the idea when I was listening to “Heather” by Conan Gray for the thousandth time that week. Obviously, I don’t own the song or its lyrics, so all credits go to the wonderful Conan Gray for that masterpiece. Also, this is not proofread, sorry lol

You look at the sight before you. Spread out over the vibrant green grass were several couples having a picnic for the most romantic day of the year—Valentine’s Day. As you continue to walk through the park with a coffee in one hand and a muffin in the other, you notice how there are couples everywhere. The more couples you see, the faster you walk towards your destination. Of course you would forget about Valentine’s Day. It was the one day that you wish you could just skip altogether because it only served as a reminder that you were a victim of unrequited love. You near your best friend’s apartment building, quickly approaching the main entrance and climbing up the stairs. You knock twice on his door and wait for his response.

“If it’s you, y/n, you better have a good excuse for being this late,” he says as he opens the door. How anyone could ever miss this man’s beauty was still a mystery to you. Over the course of your friendship, only a few people had expressed interest in him. Most only saw him as the awkward nerdy guy whose forte was science and photography, not as someone who was sweet, caring, passionate, and attractive. But you saw him for who he truly was; it was exactly what had made you fall in love with him. His chocolate brown eyes looked at you with a hint of playful annoyance.

“I’m sorry, I got distracted by how many people were at the park today,” you admit as you enter his apartment. “I don’t know why I’m always surprised to see so many couples at the park, especially on a day like today. I never understood the appeal of eating on the ground while bugs try to eat your food. If I ever go out with someone, a picnic is the last thing I would do for a date”

“Really? I would do it if I had a girlfriend,” Peter states, “I mean, there’s nothing better than enjoying the fresh air while eating your favorite food with your favorite person. I think it would be nice, don’t you think?”

“Well, now that you put it that way, I don’t think it would be that bad,” you say while you hand him his breakfast. He takes it from you and gives you an adoring smile, one that usually makes you lose your train of thought.

As you both sit on his couch, Peter takes a sip of his hot drink and starts to remove the plastic wrap from the muffin.

“Oh, by the way, I’d love to introduce you to Gwen. I’ve been talking to her for a few months now, and I’m telling you, this girl is special,” he says as he takes a bite of the small domed cake. As he chews on the muffin, you notice how hard he’s trying to contain his smile.

That’s when it hits you—all those months of him canceling plans you had made together and ignoring your calls and texts suddenly made sense. He had been with her the whole time.

He doesn’t notice how your face falls as he says this. Instead, he continues by telling you all about this special girl. “There’s this fair that’s opening today. I know we made plans tonight to watch Back to the Future, but wouldn’t it be more fun for all three of us to go to this fair? That way you can meet her and we can hang out too. It’s a win-win situation, don’t you think?”

You drop your gaze, fearing that he could see the pain in your eyes.

“Yeah, sure. I need to go run some errands before we go out tonight. I’ll see you there, alright? Enjoy the muffin, bug boy,” you say as you rise and head towards the door.

As you walk down the stairs, you begin to question whether agreeing to meet Gwen was a good idea. Would you be able to handle seeing the two of them together, giving each other small smiles as they flirt back and forth? It probably wouldn’t be that bad, right? You’ve seen a few girls hit on Peter in the past. Even when he did flirt back, you always managed to suppress your jealousy, never letting it show on your face. You walk down the street, hoping that you had enough willpower to get through the night without breaking down.

—

As you approach the loud, vivid, and colorful scene before you, the sight of your favorite person holding the hand of a beautiful blonde catches your eye.

“Hey y/n!” Peter says as he sees you. He lets go of her hand and gives you a quick hug, almost as if he were afraid to touch you. “This is Gwen Stacy. And Gwen, this is y/n. We’ve been friends since the third grade. This one here was the only one that stood up for me when all those other kids made fun of me.”

“Yeah well, someone had to stop them from harassing the smartest and most kindhearted kid in our grade,” you answered as you and Peter gave share a small smile.

“That’s so sweet, I’m glad you guys remained friends after all these years,” the blonde says as she smiles brilliantly at you. All you could think about was how pretty and kind she seemed. It made sense why Peter had taken such interest in her.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go play some games!” he says as he pulls both of you toward the ring toss stand.

To no one’s surprise, Peter easily wins the game. As the employee hands Peter his prize, he looks at Gwen and says, “It must be nice to have a boyfriend to win you all the prizes you want, huh?” as he smiles at her.

“Yeah, I’m a lucky girlfriend indeed,” she says as grins at Peter.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you guys were officially dating,” you sputtered out.

“Well, it just happened a few minutes before you got here, actually,” Gwen beams at Peter. They smile at each other, Peter’s gaze going from Gwen’s lips to her eyes. He turns to look at you.

“Remember that blue sweater that I love so much? Well, when she mentioned she was cold, I gave her the sweater with a note on its front pouch,” he says as he reaches into his back pocket and shows you the note.

Property of Peter Parker.

Only the most special, gorgeous, and lovely girl is allowed to wear this sweater.

Will you be my girlfriend?

Until that moment, you had never experienced what true heartbreak felt like. Sure, you had moments of jealousy and sadness when you watched Peter flirt with other girls, but nothing could ever compare to what you are feeling now. You feel a tightness in your chest, making the air feel like razor blades moving through you. Your eyes welled with tears as you try to hold them back.

“That’s so sweet. I’m so happy for you guys,” you reply in a mumble as you look down to the ground. Peter gives you a smile and turns to Gwen, putting the note in his back pocket and leading her toward the other games.

You knew Peter expected you to follow them, but it was all becoming too much for you to handle. Afraid of letting Peter see just how devastated you are, you turn on your heel and rush toward the street. As he turns to look for you, he sees you quickly walking through the crowd before losing sight of you.

“Where’s y/n, Peter?” Gwen says as she, too, looks around to find you.

“I’m not sure,” he whispers in confusion as he pulls out his phone and calls you. It goes straight to voicemail. Little did he know, you had turned off your phone as soon as you had gotten into the cab. Peter’s worry for you grew, his brow furrowing in confusion. You had never acted this way, after all. What could have possibly triggered you so much that would make you do this?

—

You sit by your bedroom window, staring into the distance. New York City at night was beautiful; the countless lights in the buildings made you wonder about life. At times like these, it would suddenly hit you that each of those lights came from someone’s home and that each person had a life full of love and heartbreak; full of happiness and anger. They had their ups and downs, their own heart-rendering and joyful experiences. They were the main character in their own life, just like you were the main character in your own life. You wonder about the lives of the people in those buildings. Have they ever experienced heartbreak like yours? Did they know what it was like to love someone so deeply, know their deepest secrets, and yet only be able to love them from afar? Did they know what it was like to care so deeply for someone with the most dangerous job in New York City? While most could understand what heartbreak felt like, none could possibly understand exactly what you were going through. After all, there was only one person that knew Peter’s secret.

Even though you had supported Peter through every difficult moment—from comforting him while he grieved for his uncle to patching him up every time he came to your apartment after his patrols—you still weren’t enough for him, you think. It was all becoming overwhelming. You yearn desperately for relief from what seems like never-ending torture. You want to talk to someone about this, but doing so would require you to reveal Peter’s secret. Betraying your best friend like that was out of the question. No matter how much pain you are in, you know your secrecy is vital to his safety. While you know you’re doing the right thing, you have never felt as alone as you do now. You turn back to face your room, desperate to find a way to stop feeling so emotionally suffocated. While you may not be able to tell Peter how you really feel about him, using music is the perfect way to vent your frustration and hurt.

You quickly stand up from your bed, grabbing your songbook on your way out. You exit your bedroom and head towards your little music corner by the living room window. Flipping through the pages as fast as you can, you feel the sharp edge of a page cut your skin. Dropping the songbook, you cradle your hand instinctively. You look down at it, noticing how the small drops of blood emerge from the wound and meet the surface of your skin.

Huh, you think to yourself, I guess this is what I get for being so naive. I don’t know why I even thought Peter would ever look at me as someone more than a friend. Maybe the universe thought emotional pain wasn’t enough.

You gather yourself, knowing that concentrating on playing your music would take some of that pain away. Not the physical pain caused by the papercut, of course. But perhaps singing your heart out would bring some relief to your broken heart. As you carefully continue flipping through the pages and ignoring the stinging sensation on your finger, you find the song you had been working on for the past few years.

A song inspired by seeing your best friend with other girls, secretly hoping that you could be in their place. Though you hadn't finished writing the lyrics on your songbook, you were sure that it would still help nevertheless. Seeing Peter and Gwen together that night made you realize that you could never be her. You could never be what he not only wanted but needed. It was enough to inspire the rest of the lyrics for that song.

You turn to face your keyboard and begin playing. You start to sing softly, hoping that it would help you keep your tears at bay.

Only if you knew how much I liked you

But I watch your eyes as she

Walks by

What a sight for sore eyes

Brighter than the blue sky

She’s got you mesmerized while I die

As you continue to sing with more passion, you become unaware of the sound coming from your fire escape—the sound of feet hitting the metal, the sound of someone knocking on your bedroom window and opening it, and the sound of footsteps behind you. Peter walks quietly towards you, afraid of startling you. But as he listens to your voice, he begins realizing what the song is really about. He recognizes the details, feeling his heart skip a beat as he begins putting the pieces together: you being so distant that day, seeing your features twist in pain as he mentioned how he had given Gwen his favorite sweater, the one that he had allowed you to wear for years.

But you like her better

I wish I were…

Just as Peter is about to touch you, a sob escapes you, letting your shoulders drop in defeat.

Peter had never seen you in such pain. Guilt begins to gnaw at him. He turns his back on you and walks swiftly to the window, knowing full well that he needed to think things through before talking to you. As he prepares himself to swing toward his apartment, he hears your broken whisper, “I wish I could be enough for you, Pete.”

That day, Peter Parker—your childhood best friend and the person you loved the most in this world—was the one to cause your first heartbreak.

—

Please let me know if you’d like a part 2! <3

Part 2

#peter parker #andrew!peter x reader #spiderman #masterlist #tasm!peter fanfiction #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker angst #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm!peter x reader #angst fanfic #angst #tasm peter x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction

233 notes · View notes

lemonthepotato · 5 months

Text

Muffins: Enneagram Analysis

[Art by Reitanna Seishin, DA]

The Enneagram of Personality, or simply the Enneagram, is a model of the human psyche which is principally understood and taught as a typology of nine interconnected personality types. There are nine types, each with their own adjacent wings and tritypes. The enneagram relates back to your childhood, and our wounds inflicted onto us. Where will seven highly traumatised ill ponies land? Well, that’s what we’re here to discuss.

I’d like to say, the irony that I so confidently type these characters, when they’re so obscure (in this context) and the fact the only other typology analysis I’m working on is for Daigaku Gurashi is very telling. I did guess the Yandere Simulator enneagrams. But like, that’s a can of worms I’m not getting into now. Point is: there’s a reason I stick to obscure characters.

I am not confident in my analysis. I’m getting better at typing characters, but ultimately, I have a hard time reading others. Character analysis isn’t my forte. Luckily for me, I had a hyper fixation with muffins on and off for a very long time, on and off. While the hyperfixation has passed, and I no longer care for this fic, you know I had to do it to them.

LET’S GET IT CRACKING.

Pinkie Pie - Muffins Pinkie Pie is a butchering- I mean re-imagination of canon Pinkie Pie, who is commonly seen as a sp2 or so7, but analysing Muffins Pinkie Pie paints an entirely different idea. First of all, let’s go through the Muffins quiz, which I have all the results to saved on my phone. The answers indicate a cognitive dissonance, or perhaps faux-affably evil persona. Reitanna paints a complex image of Pinkie. Pinkie is manipulative, lacks any care, and truly evil. (“High acts of cruelty require empathy.” - she knows what she’s doing.) She’s prone to anger outbursts when her friends are disrespected, and has a god complex. She uses others as a means to an end, only showing genuine love to the other 6. She hates when things don’t go her way (“You ruined everything!” To Twilight) and On Trial gives us the most characterisation of Pinkie Pie. She pushes the blame onto others for her actions, truly not caring about anyone but herself and her bakers. Pinkie says she “controls” others, showing a desire for control. Pinkie is a SP7. with a 6 wing? “Ichazo called SP7 "Defenders", people who have a need to band with others who have similar interests, having a passion for inclusion that leads to relationships of mutual protection…”

“The conservation E7 has become an expert at getting what he wants without asking for it. His basic conception is that things are not achieved by asking for them: either they take them, or they cheat or speculate to obtain them.” “He questions everything and has a certain degree of anger with life, little manifested. Basically, it underlies the difficulty of character for devotional love and recognizing the other. Similar to the E1, in the feeling that others are not trustworthy, that people are imperfect, but without taking the trouble to try to correct others, conservation E7 isolates itself from the world in its particular garden: that of the “family” or the feeling of involvement with a network to link, as a defense against a life that it understands as chaos and that reinforces its idea that pleasure and non-stop are the only possible escape routes.”

“They tend to sweet-talk those they are close to, and are very persuasive; anyone will be welcome as long as they get what they want. In their conversations, there can often be hidden motives and if they can sell you something on the way, they will. Making business is one of their passions. In addition, they are capable of even tricking and cheating themselves while maintaining the charming facade that allows them to get what they want when they want it. You could say if the occasion requires it, they can become quite manipulative and clever.”

I think this summarises Pinkie pretty well, but I’m not 100% sure of this typing.

Inkie Pie

Inkie is self-confident and doesn’t care what others think about her. She uses others and doesn’t view them as humans. (“I see... a toy. A plaything put on this world for my amusement. These toys are sentient, they have thoughts and feelings, they make decisions that impact how they live, they have desires and fears... but I find I just don't care. There are only a few people in this world that I would never harm. Everybody else is worthless, their lives mean nothing to me.”)

She resents peace ("I just can't stand peace. I find the beauty in the dissonance.")

She bottles up her emotions to avoid getting hurt. (" guess bottling everything up wasn't very healthy..." just wanted to keep from getting hurt, but it hurt me more emotionally than a smack from mama ever could." She met the yellow eyes of her sister. "I'm sorry. I know that must've been a pretty ugly sight.")

Textbook Eight. I just don’t know what subtype. “Eights are self-confident, strong, and assertive. Protective, resourceful, straight-talking, and decisive, but can also be ego-centric and domineering. Eights feel they must control their environment, especially people, sometimes becoming confrontational and intimidating. Eights typically have problems with their tempers and with allowing themselves to be vulnerable. At their Best: self- mastering, they use their strength to improve others' lives, becoming heroic, magnanimous, and inspiring.”

I’m gonna guess SX8w7, but I’m honestly not sure. The way she treats Stella, like an object to own over a person, is really telling. The thing is, despite being a SX8 stereotype, her writing is sorta inconsistent in this regard. So I have no clue really.

Blinkie Pie

Blinkie is a hard character to type. Her only personality trait is “angry,” though I suppose there is some complexity beneath the surface. She’s still very barren and doesn’t have a single chapter outside of All That Glitters. Reitanna heard “hey, you should write more Inkie and Blinkie stories” and wrote 3 Inkie stories.

Blinkie is vain, materialistic and judgmental. She despises those that has what she doesn’t, and has an extremely low self esteem. She views herself as an average mare, because she was told being a pretty mare was something to be ashamed of. Ironically, we learn the most about Blinkie in Inkie’s Stellar Obsession. Blinkie is shown right off the bat trying to start a fight and mocking Minkie. She spends the whole chapter in resentment of Inkie for choosing a pretty mare to kill.

Blinkie shows an interest in being special and unique. "Why are you so pretty and perfect? Why are you so special?… I hate pretty mares because I want to be pretty like them! We average mares have to work hard to look good, but it just comes so naturally for you, doesn't it?"

She’s also very self critical. ("Your theory is good, but what if we mess up?" asked Blinkie Pie. "If I do this wrong, I'll hate myself for weeks, you know how I am!")

From this information, and outer context “She thinks that everypony is below her, all except her sisters, apple bloom, and Derpy.” “Blinkie pie is easy to tick off, and very prone to jealousy and spite. she barks orders, seeming to not know the meaning of "please" or "thank you," and specializes in jeering and taunting at those she considers lower than herself. she likes things to go HER way, which isn't usually a problem with her sisters or rest of the team because they coordinate so well. if one of them does something wrong, she will groan and play captain hindsight, stating that they shouldn't have done that.” So, from this, we can determine she is a SX4. That might be suspicious sounding, but let me explain.

“They then make others suffer as an unconscious way of trying to rid themselves of painful feelings of deficiency. They are the kind of people who’d rather be hated for who they are than be loved for someone who they are not. They stick out from other 4s due to their harsh and aggressive attitude, often described as shameless and feeling a strong rejection by the world as their inferiority gets replaced by aggression. Often they have a underlying hatred for their rivals and their rivals are the ones they personally feel is worth striving for…” “someone who believes that if someone is popular they must be worth striving for[1], resulting in hate, competitiveness and an aggressive outlook caused by suffering in childhood.”

“E4s are not afraid of originality and often enjoy feeling different. He loves to be special, unique, and original. And he succeeds. You can speak very explicitly without conforming to good manners, as well as dress flashily and against the grain. His desire to be peculiar makes him also brave and adventurous, minimizing risks and dangers.” She wants to be pretty and not average.

I wouldn’t say she’s an 8, as there’s more vanity and self-image issues beneath her.

Minkie Pie

Minkie Pie is also a 4, so4. She is spiteful, angry and unforgiving. She takes her anger out on anyone she sees, and looks down on those less hurt than her, while seeing those who endure pain as stronger. She is convinced her destiny is to remain locked up, and wants to be accepted for who she is, which is only her trauma. She feels dead, only feeling accepted by her sisters. She is no one without her trauma. She judges the world for her own pain, and wants her “play dates” to know her story.

Minkie isn’t a very well written character. But this is how she comes off. She’s been hurt, so she wants to hurt others. She views herself as damaged, and that she can’t be fixed.

“The Social Four appears emotionally sensitive (or oversensitive), feels thing deeply, and suffers more than most people. For this Four, there is a desire to be witnessed and seen in their suffering. They hope that if their suffering is sufficiently recognized and understood, they might be forgiven for their failures and deficiencies and loved unconditionally.”

“Naranjo explains that Social Fours are people who lament too much and who often put themselves in the victim role. They can appear self-sabotaging when they broadcast their suffering and their victimhood as a way of engendering sympathy in others, but they also undermine themselves by being too attached to the causes of their suffering.” “In public, social fours repress “frowned upon” emotions like anger or hatred and may appear sweet, friendly, and soft- (like in ‘meet the team’) but in private, they may express their emotions they store up in social situations and become aggressive. Generally, they prefer to swallow their own poison rather than externalize it to the people around them (this is the only exception for Minkie-) , and they typically have difficulty finding their place in a group and in society. These fours may experience themselves as misfits, and yet they also tend to generate social situations of rejection to confirm their shame. They see themselves as victims and may view others as “perpetrators,” and they don't always take responsibility for their own actions or aggressiveness.”

Someone on Reddit wrote it like this, *Social 4 is the softest and most tender. They have a shy sadness, and a deep sense of poignancy. They wear their sorrow like a cloak, and they hope that their pain and despair will be accepted. If someone is willing to accept them despite their flaws, they feel as if they can finally take their cloak off. In this person there is an abiding awareness of rejection and of being an outsider or an outcast. This person possesses great sensitivity to any slights or signs of being different than others, as they often feel unworthy to be in their presence anyway. They feel out of place, with inherent flaws, and they fear they will be rejected for them. This can be surprising to other people, as they often have unique gifts and a keen intuition.*

*Social 4 can be drawn to outsider / counter-cultural movements, where one is accepted for being “different” or “against the norm”. They make a virtue of these differences, and often display them openly once they feel comfortable, as an expression of their identity. Sometimes they even take pride in them and become a little elitist. However, there is a secret wish that one was born ordinary (like everyone else) so they did not have suffer their differences so deeply. “Why didn’t God make me normal?”*

*Personal identity is all important to this subtype, and often they undertake a mission of self-discovery and actualization. They seek to make their differences matter, and even avenge themselves for their oddities that were once mocked or exploited. They daydream about accomplishment, but unlike the 3, they are prone to self-sabotage and emotional inhibition in the name of authenticity, and may back out when others begin to value them solely for their public image. They dream of the day when none of their flaws will be mocked, but appreciated for what they are.*

“In this Four, envy fuels a focus on shame and suffering by providing a constant source of pain: a feeling that others have what the Four wants. However, they believe that their suffering is also what makes them unique and special- there is a kind of … of others through suffering.”

Apple Bloom

Apple Bloom is a walking contradiction. A hypocrite, fake and optimistic. She doesn’t take responsibility for her actions, and can easily manipulate anyone around her. Blinded by rage, she becomes a horrible person over time. She re-iterates this in Apple Bloom Gets Her Cutie Mark and Silence Is Silver. ("Who cares if yer a good pony after all? Who cares if ya'd be a good friend? I sure don't! Yeah, after I cutcha open, I could totally fix ya right! But I ain't gonna. If everythin that happens happens, then ya can never really do the wrong thing, can ya? Yer just doin what yer s'posed to.")

IT GOT ERASED AGAIN. APPLE BLOOM SO3. DERPY SX7/IDK FUCKING SP6 IDC. BABS IDFK SP5?? SO5?? FUCKING SP8 dawg I’m too angry to care.

Not only did I get toothpaste on my phone, but I also found an mbti for Muffins. And I disagreed hard. Here’s the original post if anyone’s curious. Don’t hate though, I just want to credit them cuz taking an interest in the first place in MBTI AND analysing the silly horse creepypasta ponies is admirable. We are one in the same. Gotta say though, INFJ Minkie, ISTJ Apple Bloom- OUTTA THE POCKET.

Anyway this was my analysis. Muffins moment. Blinkie best girl. I’ve always loved her the most of all the bakers. I used to value Inkie as my 2nd favourite but idk if I agree anymore. Minkie is my least favourite, absolutely unbearable. I just like Blinkie cuz she’s just like me. I mean I’m a SX3… or am I?… fuck.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this analysis. Do you guys want an MBTI Muffins analysis? Attitudinal psyche? Oh, and put your own thoughts down below! If you also like this silly horse fic, and don’t identify as a “1w5” (AKA you understand the enneagram and THE FACT THAT WINGS MEAN WINGS) feel free to comment your thoughts. It’s ok if you think you don’t understand it well. :) I’m happy to provide you resources. be careful of mistyping!

#enneagram #muffins #my little pony #minkie pie #inkie pie #blinkie pie #apple bloom #derpy hooves #babs seed #pinkie pie #enneagram analysis #typology #lemons random rants #enneagram 1

8 notes · View notes

babydin · 7 months

Text

Night Crawling

- The CRACKSHIP you didn't know you needed - Benoit Blanc of the Knives Out mysteries and Tim Rockford of the Merge Manson franchise. - 18+, minors DNI! - Old queers solve murder as foreplay. Mentions of murder, descriptions of violence, MLM, swearing, Lovers to enemies to lovers - 1238 words - Comments/likes appreciated. Requests are open! A/N: Do I need to apologize for this? I won't. I can't promise I won't forget about the plot and just make this all about old queers This is part 1 of until I say it's over.

A sleepwalking man thinks he is in love with his best friend’s wife. One day he phones the police on himself because he wakes up covered in blood and his best friend’s wife is missing. He also hires a private detective to prove his innocence. What he doesn't know is the Gentleman Sleuth he called and the detective assigned to his case were lovers once, and tensions are high.

ONE: STRANGER THINGS HAVE HAPPENED AT SEA

“Explain this to me one more time.” Detective Tim Rockford rubbed his index finger over his lips as he pulled the car up to the crime scene. He had seen his fair share of strange cases in his career, but this one had to have taken the lead for the weirdest one yet, so far at least. “The suspect sleepwalks,” his partner explained, tying her hair up into a tight pony, “he believes he’s in love with his best friend’s girl… now she’s missing and he just woke up covered in blood.” “And he called 911 himself?” Tim started to get out of the car after popping a tab of nicotine gum for a habit he told himself he was going to quit but never quite could. “Uh, yeah, he did – Tim, there’s something else…” Tim didn’t listen, he was already on the path up to the house. One thing about Detective Rockford, in the years Katie had known him, is that he marched to the beat of his own drum. Often because he was right. He was a good detective, a great detective in fact, but sometimes people weren’t his forte. She often wondered if that was why she had been partnered up with him, she was incredibly empathic, she was gentle, and Tim was rough around the edges, he thought in facts and logic. He still called her Rookie despite her coming up to a decade on the force, sometimes she thought it was his way of expressing affection.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Tim’s interjection when he saw someone on the scene who didn’t belong had the room filling with silence. Forensics staff paused briefly before continuing on, the suspect who was trembling in the corner looked between Tim and the other male. Benoit Blanc was not dressed for a crime scene, he very rarely was, he looked like he had just stepped off of a boat in Miami, with his linen pants and pastel pink shirt that was slightly open to make room for a neckerchief. He looked at Tim with eyes that were greeting an old friend who had just returned home from the war. “What is that Kentucky-fried chicken shit doing at my crime scene?” “I tried to tell you.” Katie whispered under her breath, at the same time Benoit pushed his round, tortoise-shell spectacles up his nose and said “Well, come on now Detective Rockford, I was invited.” Tim’s eyes flew to the suspect, his eyes burned into him like lasers and he silently demanded answers, but he did not give the man time to answer before he barked at his colleagues, “Why is he not in handcuffs? Get him out of here. Blanc, a word?”

Benoit knew Tim well enough to know when he was demanding and when he was asking, and that was a demand, he watched him slip away into a room with nobody in it and politely nodded at Tim’s partner before following behind him. The door closed. They were alone.

It wasn’t just that the private detective and the NYPD detective had worked together and didn’t get along, this wasn’t a clash of personalities or Tim thinking he was doing real detective work and Benoit was just a hobbyist. They were lovers once. They had met on a case almost 15 years ago, and their passion for solving a puzzle was almost like foreplay; they’d stay up until the smallest hours of the night, eating Chinese take out and trying to look for clues, the way Benoit would slip out of his suspenders and let them hang down by his thighs would drive Tim insane, then he’d bite into a spring roll and curse a stray splash of soy sauce and he’d suddenly see something they’d both missed and there’d be a sudden clash of teeth and egg fried rice spilled on the floor and race to see who could get the other’s pants off the quickest. Benoit always got a kick out of how gruff Tim was, how rough he was, but he was surprisingly gentle in the afterglow. But Tim’s edges got a little too rough, the long nights got too long, and Tim started to prefer solving cases alone, and when Benoit asked him why he couldn’t give him a reason, he just shrugged coldly and told him he had to go. Benoit told him he wouldn’t be there when he got back, the implication that he meant in their house that they had laughed in and loved in, that Benoit had filled with antiques and Tim had filled with books. And it wouldn’t just be for one night. He was telling him, without saying it, that their relationship was over. And Tim just looked over his shoulder without looking him in the eye and said “Fine.”

7 years later they were together again, and the tension was thicker than gravy.

“What in the fuck are you doing here?” Tim barked, placing his hands on his hips, his fingers lucid as if that might make him appear more intimidating. Benoit leaned his rear against a nearby table and stretched out his legs to cross them, his arms folding across his chest, both men trying to appear as unapproachable as possible to hide the fact they wanted nothing more than to embrace, “A man sleepwalks, every night for 25 years, not only that, he also seems to have himself convinced he’s in love with his best friend’s wife–” “Blanc–” “--Now our suspect wakes up from his nighttime stroll, spattered with blood–” “Blanc–” “--best friend brayin’ on his door hollin’ about his wife not bein’ in bed when he woke up this mornin’--” “Benny!”

The nickname stopped him in his tracks. His face softened and he looked at Tim as if he was sorry for something; he had missed hearing him call him that, he didn’t know until that moment. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Despite the harshness of the words, the question was a lot softer this time,and somewhere Benoit knew that in his own Rockford way it was him asking where he had been, how he had been, how he managed to land this case. “I was invited.” Benoit echoed his previous words firmly, in that accent that just melted the ice around Tim’s heart. “I’m not stalkin’ you, I’m not here to dig up old ghost, or rekindle any flames. I’m here ‘cause I was asked. That delightful man you just put in handcuffs called me. I haven’t quite figured out why you and I must always end in handcuffs–” Tim was already frowning, although Benoit had learned not to take it personally. Tim’s brow creased a lot, he had a permanently concerned expression on his face, his forehead always so heavy, he often wondered if it was a con of the job. “The suspect called you?” Benoit nodded, “I have heralded quite the reputation for my detective work, don’t sound so surprised Timothy.” “He called 911 himself.. Too.. Is that not odd?” The Southerner’s lips twitched into a smile, and he shrugged his shoulders in a ‘kind of’ manner, “Stranger things have happened at sea. Admit it.” “What? I’ve never been to sea.” “No… You missed this. Didn't you?” Tim was stubborn as a mule but Benoit knew all his tells and the way the left side of his upper lip twitched upwards just a little, was a reluctant yes.

#( tim rockford: babydin )#tim rockford fanfic #tim rockford fanfiction #tim rockford crackship #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #benoit blanc fanfiction #tim rockford x benoit blanc #( rockblanc ; babydin ship )

17 notes · View notes

wyllwithay · 2 months

Text

Bored, so have an OC dump for Piánzi

He is, first and foremost, a little shit

And also a trans man

But he never really had a profound realization he was a boy, he just always was one

He wasn't really Baldurian, but he knew the underbelly locals

He mostly did solo transport work for different criminal networks, but never mixed jobs

They all knew that he did good work and didn't share secrets

He made it known that he didn't make solid alliances, and would work for any guild with coin

Never really had family, just himself. His closest friends were the city scavengers (rats and cats and the occasional raccoon)

Is not good at making decisions

He has a self-centered attitude, but if he cares for a person then no one will touch them

Not that he'd admit to that

Would've been an easy target for any of the spawn but the rats told him it was a bad idea

Would've slept with Halsin with no hesitation if he hadn't been seeing Wyll

Tried to subtly ask Lae'zel for stories about her people because he liked the passion with which she told them

Loved swapping gossip with Astarion about everyone and everything (in elvish of course)

Wanted to hate-fuck Wyll the moment they first spoke to each other

Snuggles with Karlach because she's soooo warm and he feels safe with her

Pretends not to listen to Gale but keeps asking questions anyways

Helps Shadowheart to braid her hair as long as she helps him with his

Never thought the 'lone wolf' thing fit him

Definitely has a secret criminal name (The Foxclaw Bandit) but it never caught on

Told it to Wyll when they got drunk together one night

Definitely didn't fall for Wyll when he jokingly called him by it later

Definitely didn't take several months of traveling with Wyll to admit to those feelings

Let's people see him as a criminal and petty thief because he doesn't know how to be seen as anything else

Didn't have a childhood because he purposely buried it

All he knows is an orphanage, a farm, and running as fast as he could

He doesn't really remember much else

He has scars on his face an neck but no memory of how they got there

He will not admit that he's a hopeless romantic that wants a night in shining armor to sweep him off his feet

He pretends not to care about kids but will do everything in his power to protect them

After the illithid events he thought he would go off on his own to reconnect with nature for a bit

Didn't realize Wyll would be tagging along

Helps teach Wyll about being a ranger without the aid of Warlock powers

He can't feel comfortable when people look at him and see a hero

Definitely read Robin Hood type books in the libraries all his life and liked to try to be that person

Got arrested multiple times trying to rob the rich

Known by other criminals for having an easy going personality and being willing to concede gold as long as they have a fun story to tell

Doesn't have a home anywhere in the city

When he needs to rest he goes outside of it

Has a secret tree fort hidden along the banks of the Chionthar about a mile outside of the city limits

The first night they arrived in Baldur's Gate he slipped away just to sit in his old home and realize just how lonely he was

He returns with his copy of Robin Hood and a bit of gold

He tries to lay in his own bedroll

Somehow he wakes up next to Wyll anyways

#piánzi #bg3 oc #tav oc #bg3 tav #i decided to leave out the worst of his childhood #might write something about it later #but that will have some hefty trigger warnings

4 notes · View notes

marzena-doe · 8 months

Text

Obligatory OTP Asks Sheila & Flash

taken from this site

Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you!’ ? - actually, both of them would

What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare? - hug them, comfort them, talk to them about it

Do they wear the other’s clothes? (sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.) - yes, I can see Sheila wearing Flash’s clothes occasionally

Which one is more protective? Who needs to be ‘protected’? - none of them needs to be protected but both try to protect the other one if needed. They trust each other and know the other one can handle any situation but they would still try to protect each other.

Describe their cozy night in. - They would cuddle on the couch, maybe have a drink, watch a football game together, eat pizza, have a talk, just the two of them.

Would they build a pillow fort together just because? - yeah I can see that XD

What are their thoughts on having children? - They have children together. Flash has two children from his first marriage and he and Sheila have two daughters later on. And there’s Duffy, too.

Do either try to hide their emotions if upset? Can the other still tell? - They always can tell. Flash is very bad at hiding his emotions. He rarely tries. Sheila does try on occasion but while she can fool others, she cannot fool Flash.

Do they have many heated arguments? How do they smooth things over? - They ususally don’t argue. And if they do, it’s never heated. They don’t yell at each other. Obviously, sometimes they can get annoyed with the other person and act irritated and snap back at the other person but they usually quickly resolve that and get over it.

How do their personalities compliment each other? How do they clash? They’re both very similar in personality. Especially in the beginning they’re both very bold, daring, reckless, seeking new adventures, just living for the moment... but over the years, both matured and got married and had children together. I think while Flash’s ever the hero, seeing good and evil and not always the things in between, Sheila’s much more willing to cross the line and is more secretive. I think their biggest obstacle is her being secretive and instead of sharing things, she’s trying to take it on all by herself, ready to sacrifice herself if needed, which drives Flash nuts.

Do they always say 'i love you' before leaving? - Yes they do

Can they stay up all night just talking? - They certainly can

Who's more likely to pull the other in by the waist and kiss them passionately? - Oh, both of them are

How do they feel about PDA? - They are pretty much into it and would have their hands all over each other but living with so many other people they’ve learnt to restrain themselves

Who would get into a fight to defend the other's honor? Who tends to the other's wounds? - Both would defend each other’s honor in a heartbeat - and tend to the other one’s wounds.

Who's more likely to convince the other to stay in bed come morning? - Flash’s more likely to convince Sheila to stay in bed

Do they have any hobbies they share? - They do like sports and action dates and going on space adventures and trying new exciting things so there are a lot of things they can do together

Who is the light weight that needs to be taken care of after a party? - both can hold their own

What are there thoughts on pet names? Do they have any? - I guess the usual stuff, like baby and honey and so on

Who is more likely to jump in an elevator? Who freaks out? - Flash would jump but Sheila would probably just laugh about it

Can they sit side by side without touching the other or are they handsy? (lacing fingers, touching knees, etc.) - Definitely handsy

Who's the better story teller? - Flash is

Who's the better cook? - Sheila is. Flash couldn’t cook if his life depended on it.

Who's more likely to tell a dirty joke or story to make the other blush? - Flash

Who's more likely to fire up the stove at 2am because the other woke up in the middle of the night hungry? - I can see both of them doing that

Which is more likely to swear? - Both, but Flash more often than Sheila

Which one would take their jacket it off and drape over the other one because they were visibly shivering? - Both would

What's their favorite type of weather to enjoy together? (getting snowed in together, watching thunderstorms, etc.) - I guess they’d enjoy watching a thunderstorm but also lying lazily at the beach or a skiing adventure in winter

Who would give their life for the other without a second thought? - Both would

Who would dance in the kitchen making dinner? Would the other join in or watch from the doorway? - I guess Sheila would and yes, if he felt like it, Flash would join in

Does either of them have a secret that could potentially ruin their relationship? - Sheila did at the beginning

Does either of them have a hard time being away from the other? - Both

Would they ever go skinny dipping? - Yes

Whose the serious one when grocery shopping and who likes to toss random things in the cart? - Sheila is more serious and Flash jokes around more

#ask #meme #sheila x flash #sheila dewindt #flash gordon

4 notes · View notes

sewermageboy · 4 months

Note

Heyo about the Tav!Companion Ask game , I'm also gonna group then again:

General :

2, 3 and 7?

In reference to this ask meme.

2. Do the other companions have special comments or reactions upon recruiting your Tav?

Already answered here :)

3. Does your Tav have any comments or advice when you recruit other companions?

About Shadowheart: "Shadowheart seems amicable enough. I'd be cautious, though. Her devotion to Shar my yet put all of us in danger."

About Lae'zel: "I'm almost certain that Lae'zel could snap me in two without even breaking a sweat. We'd do well to stay on her good side."

About Gale: "I do enjoy listening to Gale talk. His poetry needs some work, though. Lucky for him to be stranded here with me."

About Astarion: "There's something about Astarion, isn't there? I don't trust a word that comes out of his mouth, and yet, he fascinates me."

About Karlach: "Nothing will make you feel quite as safe as having a giant, flaming woman on your side. I just hope she doesn't accidentally set us on fire."

About Wyll: "The famed Blade of Frontiers! Who'd have thought we'd end up travelling with a proper hero? The ballads basically write themselves!"

About Halsin: "Now, all that nature magic has never been my forte, but I very much admire his passion for the craft. Among other things."

Minthara: "Be careful around Minthara. She may have turned away from the Spider Queen and the Absolute, but she still follows the ways of our homeland. Her loyalty only goes so far."

7. Do they have their own personal quest that spans the course of the game? Can it take different branching paths depending on the choices the Player Character makes?

I think there's two major points in which the player character can change the trajectory of their story.

The first is more of an overall thing, how the PC interacts with Hyacinth, whether they encourage them to be true to themself, or encourage them to lean more into their upbringing (manipulating people, disregard for others, getting ahead no matter the cost). The former would lead to their good ending (finding happiness, trying to shed the weight of the past, to begin anew), the latter to their bad ending (they're more jaded, ruthless, less trusting, comparable to hardened Leliana in Dragon Age: Origins).

The other point is their daughter, Calliope. On their good ending path, the PC could influence how Hyacinth's relationship with her proceeds, advising them to either keep her heritage a secret (leaving her to believe that Hyacinth is only her godparent, not their actual parent), or to be honest with her and come clean about everything.

#my tav #oc: hyacinth #ask game

2 notes · View notes

justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms · 7 months

Note

Hi! My name is Shiri (Hebrew name for My Melody / Song of My Soul)

and I Wish for : Romantic Obey Me + My Hero Academia matchup

Physical description : I’m a 5’2 girl. I’m autistic and I am slightly chubby. I have curly brown hair and matching dark brown eyes. I have fair, smooth and milky skin. I love wearing kawaii, pastel and casual clothing that is quite childish and feminine. I am most insecure about my slightly soft tummy and small chest. I love my slender neck, beautiful hands and bright smile.

Zodiac sign : Capricorn Sun, Libra Moon, Scorpio Rising

MBTI & Enneagram : INFP 9w1

Sexuality : Fictoromantic Asexual (before And even more deeply ace after the r*pe trauma I’ve been through)

Pronouns & Age : she/her & 25

Personality :

I am a socially awkward autistic and I have fluctuating empathy - sometimes hyper empathetic and sometimes hypo empathetic.

I survived sexual abuse (mention of rape trauma ahead tw). I’m usually aloof, quiet, timid yet peaceful and mysterious.

But once you get to know me I’m quirky, childish, just and passionate!

I age regress to keep my heart soft and sweet (without romance and magical girl anime my heart would’ve been hidden under a wall of stoicism).

I’m a timid, shy yet sarcastic girl who loves singing and is pretty bad at sports. Once you get to know me I’m a romantic, childish girl who loves k-pop love songs and goth jpop.

Sometimes I’m stoic and emotionless due to how I repress my own trauma on bad days when I’m suffering from flashbacks of the sexual abuse I’ve been through.. On those days I’m mourning and empty. Sometimes devastated with grief over the loss of who I was - The innocent and pure me.

While on other days I’m singing with happiness and warmth - Days when I feel free and filled with light. On those days I can love deeply and am very affectionate, despite being more cat-like than dog-like.

Feeling protected, accepted and cherished is very important to me; otherwise I feel neglected and unloved. I often felt unsafe in my own body due to having been raped and still suffer from panic attacks and hallucinations every now and then and I need someone who’d accept me and love me for all of who I am.

Cause there are days I’ll be numb and empty, or snarky and upset. Days when it’ll feel like the world is suffering from chaotic storms of rage and grief.

Sadly, I’ve already experienced my worst fears; being raped, having been controlled and gaslighted. There are days when I wish he was dead, when I fantasize about killing him and have it all over with but mostly I just want to be happy again. To be surrounded by kind people who love me dearly and have him meet his own desolate karma, leaving him desperate and broken hearted.

My ideal date would be the amusement park and volunteering at an animal shelter or going to an animal cafe.

I am very idealistic and romantic, and filled with so much light and happiness but also have days when the rape trauma haunt me and make me feel depressed and chaotic inside.

Sometimes I have trouble controlling my deep emotions and I can get, as I said, very chaotic while on other days I’m an emotionless brick, filled with wrath towards abusers and depression due to the past haunting me.

My love languages are words of affirmation, acts of service and physical touch.

My ideal date would be going to a cat cafe or volunteering at an animal shelter. Maybe going through a mirror maze/ haunted house / rollercoaster at the amusement park! Or binge watching romance/psychological anime while laying on a blanket fort as we eat sweets!

I wish to be doted on, loved and protected with passion. I wish for someone I can feel free to be bad with, but also someone who adores me no matter which day I’m going through ; angel or devil days and accepts me for all in-between.

Likes : cats, bunnies, ducklings, the moon, music, romance, cottagecore, sanrio, lolita fashion, angels, mythology, my family, love, joy, being treated like a princess, being wooed, respected, loved and admired, sleeping, hugging. love love, happiness, romantic songs, animals , plushies, festivals, sweets and magic! I love singing, writing love letters and poetry. I also love k-dramas, anime, otome games and cuddling.

Dislikes : rape, abusive people, people who force their opinions on others, people who invade others’ boundaries and refuse to respect them, danger, horror shows/movies, watching the news, sad movies.

Hobbies & Passions : Singing, Writing, Poetry, Watching Romantic Anime/Dramas, Listening to Music (jpop/kpop/disco/electro swing), dressing up, putting on make up and feeling like a fairy/angel/kitty/bunny/duckling/ballerina/princess. I love daydreaming x’).

I hope I didn’t write too much >x<. Thank you so much for writing for all of us! 💗

Hi Shiri! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took a while. I hope you like your matchups!

In Obey Me, I match you with...

Simeon is the perfect person for you. He’s just the right balance of outgoing and quiet and somehow always knows the right thing to say or do.

Has nothing but sympathy for you regarding your trauma. He wants you to know that he’s there for you if you want to talk it out. Even if you don’t want to talk and you just want to feel safe in someone’s presence, Simeon is there for you.

He’s also really understanding when your mood switches from day to day. It’s in his nature to be understanding but that is only increased when it’s relating to someone he cares about so deeply.

Amazing with words of affirmation, acts of service, and physical touch. He will show you as much affection as you want without getting sick of it and accepts you wholeheartedly.

Prepare to receive a love letter every day as soon as Simeon finds out you like them. Please also write love letters to him; he keeps every single one safe in a box under his bed.

He’s more than happy to take you to cat cafes and animal shelters. Simeon likes animals as well so it’s a win-win in his eyes.

In My Hero Academia, I match you with...

While Aizawa gives off uncaring vibes at first glance, he really cares deeply about those he loves; and you certainly fall into that category.

You’ll be hard pressed to find a more caring pro hero than Aizawa. He’s seen his fair share of bad situations due to his hero work late at night so he knows how to interact with people who have trauma.

He’s surprisingly understanding of your mood swings. While you may think they would annoy him, he works with teenagers and mood swings are part of his everyday life with them so he’s more than equipped to help you through low times and support you during high moments.

While he may not naturally be the most open with his affection, as soon as Aizawa finds out you like words of affirmation and physical affection, he will do his best.

He’s still not great at those things, but he’s trying for you. Expect at least one hug every day and compliments on things you do throughout the day.

Cat cafe dates are an absolute must! You’re not sure whether Aizawa is going because you want to go or because he likes cats so much. Regardless, you’re both going to have a great time.

#writing #fanfic #matchup #matchup request #request #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #simeon #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #shota aizawa

2 notes · View notes

17yearslatewithlattes · 10 months

Text

Okay so I knew going into this that since I don’t have anyone to talk to I was going to need to find people to listen to or else I would drive myself crazy. Unfortunately I found three I really liked all at once and now am spending a truly concerning number of hours on spn content. But I do appreciate the content they make so shoutout to them:

1. Imon_Snow supernatural reactions on YouTube

She does episode reactions, and is watching the show for the first time without much foreknowledge, and I’m enjoying seeing how the show plays to someone who goes in basically blind. Sure sometimes she makes a comment that makes me want to give her a lore dump for context, but genuinely watching her see the nuances unfold is one of my favorite parts.

She’s thoughtful, sweet, and engaged. She tends to focus on theme and character in her discussions, and not infrequently pulls out insights that I’m really impressed she caught onto so early in the show. She has a very endearing crush on Dean and is also extremely fond of Sam, and her coming off as a sweetheart is entertainingly counterbalanced by her occasionally having The judgeist reaction to something a character does before catching and laughing at herself.

P.S. For some reason the playlist I linked only includes her reactions up through 1x16, but last I checked she was well into season 3.

2. @escapingpurgatorypodcast

This is an episode-by-episode deep dive by two friends who have watched the whole show, hated the end so very much, and have stayed as stuck on the show as Tumblr has. I don’t know if/how much they’re involved with online fandom, but this definitely has the most Tumblr-fandom vibes of the three. They try to avoid full-on spoilers, but their watch is very much informed by the show as a whole.

They’re longtime friends who have a very sweet and fun dynamic with each other and scratch that itch I always have after an episode for someone to rant about the implications and emotions raised by ‘x’ episode in context of the Everything to come. I definitely find myself agreeing with them the most, and while that’s not a ding against the others I’m recommending (the different perspectives is part of what I appreciate about them), it’s very nice to have a channel that consistently vents about the same things that got my emotions spinning while also adding insights I missed.

They also make smart comments about filming choices, and since one is watching the dvds and the other is watching on Netflix, they also compare notes on the music changes Netflix made. So yeah—if you want really in-depth discussions from long-term emotionally invested fans, I highly recommend this one!

3. Just Us supernatural reactions on YouTube

This was the last one I stumbled across, and I really didn’t mean to add a third accompaniment. But then I watched Faith and was still reeling after watching/listening to the usuals, and I decided to watch one more reaction for just that episode—and was unfortunately very entertained and endeared.

This channel is four friends, two of whom have seen all or most of the series, and two of whom had never watched an episode before. Their dynamic is boisterous and they rib each other mercilessly but in a way that makes you go ‘aww, they’re friends ^^’. If you’re bemoaning the absence of Sam girls in the other recommendations, Cameron has got your back, with support from Nathan. Davion is holding the fort for the Dean girls. Cameron has a notebook and it somehow becomes the best ongoing bit in the series. Divek has previously watched through season 13, and is the cypher of the group. He spends most of the episodes hood up slumped down poker face on, and he does say things—sometimes passionately—yet I’d have a hard time confidently recounting any opinion he has in the show. It’s a Wild energy to bring to an entertainment platform built around giving opinions/reactions, and it’s frankly fantastic.

Davion and Cameron—the ones watching for the first time—are brothers, and something about their teasing/affectionate/annoyed interactions in response to what is currently The Brother Show is really the key to how delightful the reactions area. Also Davion and Cameron (especially Davion) have John pegged pretty darn quick, and for that they have my respect.

A heads up though: they all have moments in how they talk about the women in the show that make me cringe, and some of them can go uncomfortably hard on no-homoing their (frequent) comments on how attractive Sam and Dean are. For me it’s not enough to outweigh the elements I really enjoy, but ymmv.

#supernatural #I have never understood the appeal to reation videos #but okay I get it now

3 notes · View notes

redflagromance · 8 months

Text

Short Story Release: Neither Whole Nor Unbroken (Barry Grivus Story- 3,036 words)

He didn't usually contract kills. But this hit was outside of his usual sphere of competence.

Barry kept an eye on the criminals and villains bustling through the convention center. There were so many options, if he really wanted to just get the first person who would agree.

But he was patient. He had one person in mind, with the specific skill set that he needed. He'd already reached out on the secure app on his phone. There hadn't been a reply, but that didn't mean anything.

A particular motion over the top of his newspaper caught his eye.

A slight figure in black was visible from his line of sight. She was in the narrow space between two booths, inches away from someone who had no idea she was present. Her posture and body language communicated control and tightly leashed violence.

He controlled the desire to smile. That was her.

As he looked up, her gaze snapped to follow a large, handsome man in red strut down the main thoroughfare. He was too busy chatting with Gene to see the assassin's whole body go tense as she honed in on him. Barry could see the whites of her eyes and her carefully controlled breathing from over here.

Even without seeing the man's face, he'd know that was the social media star, underwear model, and chronically small-time supervillain Hammer from her furious body language.

'She focused on him like a hawk,' Barry thought, bemused. 'She wants to attack him on sight, in a building with thousands of witnesses.'

The passion there always surprised him. Personally, Barry found Hammer to be a delight. But reasonable people can disagree on matters of taste. He broke his stare and cleared his throat.

"Harmes." His junior partner looked over from the other chair in their booth. "Would you mind getting coffee? I'll hold down the fort. I could really use the caffeine."

Harmes stood easily, clearly stir crazy. "Of course. The usual?"

"You know me," Barry agreed idly. "I'm a predictable man." He watched until Harmes was out of sight.

Barry folded up the newspaper and put it down on the booth.

"Echo," was all he had to say.

His contact sidled over with a swing in her hips. The furious tension in her shoulders was gone, for now. "Mr. Grivus." Her tone was flat, but he didn't take it personally.

"Did you get my message?"

"Yes. What did you need?" The rogue had a brisk, flat tone that he didn't really care for. She must not have thrived in customer service, he thought.

He looked around in his periphery. Harmes wouldn't be back for at least a few minutes.

He reached into the secret pocket of his blazer, and pulled out a thick envelope.

"Instructions and cash. Non-consecutive bills." A deft little hand snapped out, but he pulled back the envelope in time. He leaned down. He lowered his voice.

"Just make sure it gets done."

"I can do any job related to my skill set," she retorted. Barry smiled faintly and handed over the envelope.

A few minutes later, Harmes returned. He had already resumed his paper. There was nothing to indicate he'd talked to anyone or arranged for anything that would infuriate his business partner.

About an hour later, his phone buzzed.

The notification from his secure channel said only, "job complete."

He was tempted to arrange things so that he could be present for the discovery. But it's too sloppy. More than a few people know about his grudge.

Barry is patient. Barry waits.

The end of the conference comes and goes without any mention of a discovery. It's two days, nothing said. His anticipation is only going to make the eventual fallout better. There's no news on Saturday or Sunday either. It's agonizing.

It happens. Monday, Harmes comes into work. Tired. Disgruntled. Driving an expensive car that he damn well knows Harmes would never buy.

He's thrilled. He can't quite keep the predatorial satisfaction off of his face. As he pours coffee Barry casually asks, "Did something happen to your car?"

Harmes is still. Their expression is best described as dangerous.

He has a frisson of discomfort, a bad feeling that he's been caught.

Harmes can't possibly know, Barry tells himself. There's no way.

"No," Harmes lies lightly. "It's just in the shop. It'll be back, as good as ever." Their fingertips turn pale as they clench their teacup.

His jaw is tense.

'Not if I have anything to say about it.'

"That is terrible," Barry responds. He can't help it. It's too heartfelt to keep in. "That old heap is the worst thing I've ever seen. Holly agrees with me."

Harmes narrows their eyes at him. He's imagining the suspicion there. Did he overplay his hand?

No. It's fine. Harmes already knew he hated the car. That's the whole purpose of the exercise, the reason to contract a rogue mechanic. It would be more suspicious if he was empathetic or neutral.

"My mother isn't always right," Harmes says stiffly.

He's irritated now. Even though he knows that Harmes is lying! His hackles are up. Barry excuses himself to his office and paces. He does some deep breathing to calm down. He checks his message again to confirm that the mechanic really did get rid of Harmes' car once and for all. The message still says "job complete." It's unambiguous. The car has been murdered.

"It's dead," he says grimly. "I paid a ludicrous amount."

The empty office didn't answer him.

"It was a good use of 500 thousand dollars," he says darkly. "I never want to see that thing again."

He stops. He had been pushing down the urge to contract his hitwoman again, but for what he'd paid her? She can cope with a follow up question.

Barry glanced to the main office once more, to confirm that Harmes isn't lurking out there. His junior associate is in their private office. He won't be seen. He messages the hit woman.

"The car is definitely not repairable?"

He waits a while. She must be working. Barry lets out a sigh and gets back to work. He examines the invitation he received for another company's event with a sigh. The owner came to his booth personally at the conference to say hello and give invites to him and Harmes.

The owner is new, but doing admirably to establish herself in the villainous industry. He's a little fond of her. He nearly hired her, in fact. But Harmes was just a little more… innovative.

He sends his confirmation of attendance. It would be a bit of a snub to not attend.

His phone buzzes. The hitwoman has responded, "It was barely holding together before I got to it. I sent a letter saying that it's totalled and detailing the insurance payout for a replacement."

Barry chuckles. He steals a glance at the office. He narrows his eyes.

Harmes is standing by Janine's desk, holding a familiar invitation.

Hm. He pushes open his door and takes a step out, curious. He takes his nearly-empty cup of coffee to have something to do with his hands and a pretense for going out.

"decline," Harmes is saying. "I won't be alienating anyone too important?"

…Ah. He controls the urge to smile. He wonders if Harmes even remembers that Sunny Aviichen interviewed for the same position at Grivus Events that Harmes did, all those years ago.

"No," Janine agrees. She's examining the invitation. "It would be good to go, but I'm sure they're not looking for you specifically."

…He sips the last of his coffee. He had actually had the impression that Ms. Aviichen was quite eager for Harmes to see how well she was doing in her career. Ms. Aviichen seemed rather competitive, even before Harmes got the position. People like that never enjoyed losing.

"Barry?" Janine looks up and spots that he's already out of his office. "You'll represent the firm at this?" She holds up the invitation.

"Of course." He agrees calmly.

"Great." Harmes flashes a smile at him and Janine. "I have pottery class that day."

Janine snorts. "I wouldn't tell anyone that's why you're declining to attend the Vice President's birthday party."

Harmes shrugs and goes back into their office. Barry finds himself watching until the door closes.

He's always enjoyed that about Harmes, he muses. They just don't give a damn.

Ahem.

Someone has cleared their throat. He looks at her.

Janine's face is amused. "Barry, I saw that poor Harmes didn't drive the usual car today." Her lips twitch. "Would you know anything about that?"

"No," he lies smoothly. He tilts his head at her in faux confusion. "But I'm very busy today." He busies himself with getting some water and leaves his coffee cup in the sink.

"Mm," Janine agrees, in a way that lets him know she's certain he's full of it. She pulls open a drawer and withdraws a yellow envelope. "Tell Echo that I said hello."

He frowns at her. She knows too much. She knows everything that happens. "I will," Barry agrees, defeated.

The car is vanquished, he tells himself. He goes back to work. He's finally slayed the beast. It only cost him a year's earnings to never have to see that wretched amalgamation of rusted metal again. His mood begins to lift.

'I wonder what Harmes will buy with the insurance money,' he wonders indulgently. Harmes' actual insurance would never have covered a suitable car, of course. Luckily, the rogue mechanic is also certified in car insurance. She was only to keep half of the money he gave her, and have the other 250 thousand allotted to Harmes.

…He's not certain what a half decent car costs, but surely that would have covered it.

Waiting to see what Harmes buys with his money is the most interesting part of his week. The pleasant anticipation gets him through the vexation that rises when he discovers that that little worm Duke has made a dinner appointment via Janine. "We can't cancel," he says darkly.

"No, but I'll know not to take further appointments with him," Janine says, a little embarrassed.

Barry sighs. "You couldn't have known. I didn't tell you." He turns his gaze out of the window, to the parking lot. "We'll go, find out it's not a good fit, and not take his business."

"That'll work," Janine agrees. She tracks where he's looking, but she doesn't say anything this time.

Harmes is still driving the rental to work. Surely they'll buy one soon. The rental isn't their style at all. Barry's anticipation builds as the work days go on.

And then Harmes comes to work in something so wretched and old that he hears it two blocks away.

Barry stands up at his desk. That could be anyone's car clanking. But he has a miserable premonition. Slowly, he walks out to the main office.

Janine must have the same instinct. She's already at the window to pull back the curtains. She starts to laugh as Harmes pulls into the parking lot in a positively ancient truck.

"No," Barry breathes, wounded.

Janine starts snorting between gasping laughs.

He puts a hand on his heart. "This can't be happening." It hurts. Harmes is killing him. Harmes is doing him harm. This has to be purposeful.

Harmes drives over a curb. There's a demonic scrape as something unfortunate happens to the underside of the already ill-used vehicle. The car stops. Harmes clearly struggles to open the door. After a few seconds, they kick it open. It's somehow even more dented now.

Janine is fully laughing, and obviously struggling to keep the tears of mirth down. It's worse that she's pitying him.

Barry closes his eyes. "I'm going to go lie down." He feels faint.

Janine passes him an eye mask and hiccups a stop to her giggles. "Set a timer for your 10 o'clock, sir."

"Thank you," he says, bleak. He's going to become one with the darkness. He's going to break down into his components to escape the pain of reality. And then the door closes behind him and he has another idea.

He could sink into a black miasma of despair. But instead, he calls the mechanic. Maybe there's a solution.

As soon as they pick up, he starts to speak. "Harmes must not have had an adequate budget."

There's a pause. "Hello to you too," says a disgruntled voice. "What are you talking about? I sent them 200 thousand dollars."

"250 thousand," Barry corrects offhand.

The mechanic makes an acknowledging noise. "That's an adequate budget," she says dryly. "Harmes could get any nice car on the market."

Oh. "Perhaps. But there's a rusted 2013 farm truck in my parking lot," Barry confides in a tortured whisper.

There's a bark of surprised laughter so loud that he pulls the phone away from his ear.

Barry scowls. He wishes that other people would stop laughing about this disaster. He crosses his arms and waits with ill grace for her to calm down.

The mechanic controls herself. "Is there some kind of outdoor hobby that might have prompted that choice?"

He freezes. He's finally compared Harmes' regular schedule and the timeframe that the car died in. He knows what happened. "Rocking."

"....what?"

Barry ignores the question and starts to pace. "The car gave out on some muddy back road," he says to himself. Damnit. He curses himself for a fool. "Harmes thinks the solution is a better backroads vehicle." He hurries to his computer and checks his theory. Yes. The exact model is the first example of a reliable used vehicle that results when you search for heavy duty trucks.

"Is there something else I can do for you?" the mechanic asks. There's the sound of a car door opening in the background. "I don't think a follow-up letter from the insurance company saying that the new vehicle is subpar would convince your associate to reconsider."

"No." Barry clears his throat. "You're right. You did your part." He runs a hand through his hair and winces when he realizes he's messed up the style. "Thank you."

"Have a nice day." The mechanic hangs up first.

There is a grieving process. Barry takes his lunch in the attic so that he can gaze into the parking lot undisturbed. The truck… it is wretched. It is a pathetic thing.

He tries convincing himself that it isn't so terrible. He wanted to indirectly buy Harmes a car that was safe and made them happy. The truck, however damaged the body may be, seems to be in better shape than the old thing. It doesn't even give off white smoke. That's certainly an improvement.

He spends a brief dip in the bargaining stage. Perhaps Harmes would buy a second car, a work-appropriate car? How much money would he need to give for that?

…it's a moot point. Harmes doesn't accept gifts.

Barry lets out a beleaguered sigh.

The week passes. The truck is an open wound. It only falls to the back of his mind in the wake of the disastrous dinner meeting with Marc.

…It wasn't his best showing. He hadn't even considered that the weasel was a desirable client for his junior partner. That oversight was embarrassing in retrospect.

He comes into work too shame-faced to even sigh about the truck. It isn't there yet anyway. Barry writes an apology and leaves it on Harmes' desk.

There's some excitement that afternoon when Gene pioneers a new and exciting way to get a felony charge. But Barry can't really enjoy it, because Harmes is avoiding him so studiously that they miss out on the resulting office party.

Eventually, Barry coaxes Harmes out. He's tentatively hopeful that he hasn't done anything irreparable to their working relationship.

Two mornings later, Janine gasps.

Barry makes a questioning sound. He's facing the counter, making his morning coffee before heading into his office.

"You're going to want to see this, Barry."

He puts down the cup with a clink. He turns around slowly. Her serious tone has his full attention.

Janine is standing at the window. Harmes doesn't drive over the curb this time, carefully whipping around the corner in a precision turn.

"This is worse," Barry says numbly.

Janine pats his back in sympathy. "It is," she says. Even she can't laugh about this. She goes back to her desk solemnly.

Barry can't move. He's still stuck there staring out the window in open-mouthed horror when Harmes walks in.

"Good morning, Janine. Good morning, Barry."

Janine responds. He can't.

Harmes walks over to him. "New car," they say cheerfully. "I'm just going to use the truck for rocking." Keys jingle.

He tries to respond. The sound he makes is a croak.

"Isn't it nice?" Harmes asks innocently. They indicate the bright red, shiny sports car in their parking spot.

Harmes bought a volcano car. Harmes gave his money to that insufferable businessman Duke.

Barry finally tears his gaze away and makes eye contact with Harmes.

Harmes is waiting for it. They hold prolonged eye contact.

"Marc gave it to me." Harmes keeps staring at him. There is something unhinged in those eyes. Barry blinks, and four seconds pass. Harmes doesn't blink.

His stomach twists faintly in disgust. Marc? Harmes was on first name terms with that twerp now? He can't find the wherewithal to muster a response.

The seconds stretch on. Janine staples something. Someone washes their hands in the next room. Harmes is still looking deeply into his eyes in some sort of sick dominance play.

"That's nice of him," Barry says weakly. He looks down as blood begins thumping in his ears and dimming his vision. He retreats into his office.

He's lost. Barry knows that now. He sits at his desk and buries his face in his hands.

Did Harmes know? Did Harmes realize he'd assassinated the car and do this to punish him? Or was it even worse- was it fate? Had he pushed Harmes and Duke closer together?

Barry inhales a long, shuddering breath. He lets go of his face. He accepts the total loss, and he gets back to work.

NOTE:

This was originally posted on my Patreon, where I am continually writing other character stories for Deplorably Devoted. Check it out here!

#deplorably devoted to you #redflagromance #short story #Barry Grivus #Neither Whole Nor Unbroken

3 notes · View notes