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#my gosh I’m terrible
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one of the worst feelings ever is wanting to write but your hands hurt too much or the words just don’t want to work so you just sit there staring at a half finished doc with tears in your eyes bc you want to write and you need to write but everything is telling you that you can’t
#and that you’re a terrible writer and that no one cares aaaaaaand imposter syndrome kicks in and you just feel like crap#bc all your friends have been wriying recejtky so why can’t you??? cause they’re bETTER THAN YOU#lol idk why my head is so bad today#the feelings of inferiority and emptiness and idk worthlessness are strong and i hate it but i can’t stop it#i just wanna write!!! and like what i write!!!#but i Can’t and i haven’t liked anything i’ve written in Months and ugh i hate not being able to d something i wanna do#oh and now i’m crying??? why the frick am i cRYING litetally why is typing this making me Worse#sorry guys needed to rant#the inadequacy was strong today#something something students keep telling me how much they dislike me or how i’m whiny for asking them to be respectful and like#i Know i shouldn’t compare myself to my friends but gosh it’s hard when they’re all like. so much better than me.#and i don’t have a lot of time to be on tumblr bc of work so i just feel like i’m watching everything from afar and it’s no one’s fault but#my brain’s like no one is Doing anything it’s just my brain being dumb and i can’t stand it and I want to stop feeling empty and like i’m#missing a part of myself and like the words i write don’t matter gOD why can’t i just feel happy with where i am and not care what the kids#who hate me say or realize that no one cares that i’m not on much like i’m still Here and trying to interact it’s not like everyone hates me#for being busy or for liking side characters more than the main characters and just—#sorry#that felt good actually#idk what came over me#imma just. imma shower. then maybe delete my tags#sorry if anyone got this far aT ALL grace is either asleep or trying to sleep so i don’t wanna bother them since they slept poorly last nigh#okay done now for real sorry delete tags later sorry if you saw this and how freaking messed up ky freaking brain is
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adrift-in-thyme · 1 year
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Having a puppy is like one moment they’re the sweetest angel, the best baby, the cutest fuzz ball in existence who can do no wrong and the next they’re a complete menace to society who likely spawned from the devil himself
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drunk-poets-society · 1 month
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Life’s just so fucked up now I just got hit by a bus and walked it off cos I was getting late for class like this might as well happen ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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percysjakcson · 11 months
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lmaooo so berlusconi died and Italy is #1 trending tag on tumblr???? I love it here 🇮🇹🤣
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vi-sigoth · 8 months
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Since you guys enjoyed our collaborative effort, SONGS TO KICK SOMEONE’S ASS TO, I thought I’d share my current playlist in progress, Female Fronted Metal. I’m going back and reliving my little tomboy goth metalhead high school days and re-listening to After Forever, Delain, Epica, Lacuna Coil, Nightwish, and Within Temptation (and in some cases, this is new listening; I lost track of Epica and WT after about 2012-ish) and adding my favorite tracks into one playlist. Check it out if you’re into any of these bands. Next on the docket is Delain’s Dark Waters (curious to see how they’re doing without Charlotte) Epica’s The Holographic Principal, Lacuna Coil’s Dark Adrenaline, Nightwish’s Dark Passion Play (which was my all time favorite album for about a decade) and Within Temptation’s Resist.
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eldritchsexual · 6 months
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Anyway daniel Daniel Daniel Daniel Daniel Daniel daniel dnaniel danel daniel :)))
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Hitting On 16 is so darn good.
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waffleweirdo · 4 hours
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Triangle Strategy is great because it really makes me feel like I’m horrible at navigating political intrigue and constantly making all the wrong decisions.
It made me commit war crimes because I wasn’t good enough! It’s genuinely so good!
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moechies · 4 months
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toji 🎀 nsfw
imagine toji shaking his head in disappointment after his sweet girlfriend claimed that she could ride him with no problem, just to be shaking when she’s barely halfway down his cock :((
he’s so so cocky, knowing he really doesn’t care that much but his demeanor will make you feel terrible. he loves watching you cry over his disappointment, your pleads of ‘no no no! i can do it, just watch!’ just oh so desperate to please your daddy.
“i’m watching sweetheart. but it looks like all you know how t’do is jus’ run yer mouth. m getting impatient baby..”
“no! daddy! p-please- hng.! i ca-can do it, i can, jus-just need a little of your help..!”
“thought you said you didn’t need my help princess, what’s with the sudden change of heart?”
your face heats up at the embarrassment. you admit, you did think too highly of yourself for someone who has been pillow princess and babied throughout your entire relationship.
“n-no please, don-don’t wanna disappoint you daddy..hngh.. m-m sorry-“ he finds your tiny sniffles so cute, gosh you were really too adorable!
he places a strong grip on your right hip, single-handedly pushing your lower half onto the rest of his cock and finally bottoming out on him. you cry out from the sudden thrush of a stretch, nails leaving a burning scratch across his shoulder and his stomach where you kept your hands for leverage.
“hey shh, ‘s okay pretty. just means i’ve gotta train you ‘nd yer cunt some more, isn’t that right ?”
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trashbatistrash · 11 months
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,
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thetreethatspeaks · 1 year
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guys i’m just having a really rough day
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6gumi · 4 months
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can’t afford to fail.
synopsis ﹒your arrogant n self centred professor helps you get your grade up !
pairings ﹒dr. ratio x f!reader
cw ﹒nsfw MDNI. professor x college student 、mild age gap (dr ratio’s abt 28 while reader is 19-20) 、degradation 、desk s3x 、he’s a lil mean here :( 、use of nicknames 、pussy slapping (there ws like . . two!) 、t!tplay 、dirty talk 、reader implied 2 be smaller 、slight spanking 、unprotected s3x
note ﹒been too long since i wrote anything n i thought abt this . . i’ve BEEN thinkin’ abt it for awhile n i jus get so . . i get so giggly thinkin’ abt it LMAO i hope this is fine ! let’s hope i proofread in time ! reblogs r highly appreciated, feel free 2 send me an ask ! — millie ♡
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“utterly ridiculous.” dr ratio replied mockingly, an eyebrow raised as his taller form towered over yours, his gaze on you was firm and serious, like he was trying to scare you away. “do you see what i’m seeing?” he raised up one of your marked worksheets you handed in the other day, in pure honesty . . it wasn’t even your fault! you wanted to curse at him for not even bothering to give you and your fellow students more time to study, it was his fault in the first place for making you all stress! that’s what you wanted to say, but he would’ve had your head for that.
“ . . . yes prof.” you muttered with a small nod.
“tell me what you see then.”
you glanced up at him, your eyes slowly trailing from him to the paper he held . . failed?! again?? gosh . . you knew this would happen either way, you wanted to scream, clench your fists and beg for another retake but knowing the type of professor dr ratio was, you knew you weren’t getting any of that, no . . not anytime soon.
“ . . i didn’t do that good.”
“—didn’t do that good is an understatement, you did terrible. your idiocy is all i see written on this fail-worthy of a sheet, your work habits in class are worse than those other idiots i teach.” the professor sighed and steepled his fingers, leaning forward. “why are you falling off in my classes? are you afraid of asking me for help, is that it?” his eyes narrowed with a condensing glare, the tension in the room grew heavier.
yeah well . . if i ask you for help, you’d insult me and get annoyed anyways, was what you wanted to say. i mean, you weren’t wrong . . you were certain dr ratio had some sort of short temper or something, no matter what he says or what you do, he is the last person you’d ask for help. “someone with major idiocy like you should be grateful i’m taking time out of my day to speak to you about your dismissive performance, you know how much people would kill to have my attention right now?" dr ratio’s voice took on a harsher tone as he watched you react to his words. “even your classmates are so much more adept, why are you even in my class?"
your body jolted at his words, no matter how tough you tried to act you were secretly trying your absolute best to hold back the tears that threatened to leave your eyes, it was hard to take in his words . . it’s hard enough to not be his top student!
dr ratio’s eyes widened slightly seeing how your body jolted at his words, he took a quick breath and thought about how he would address the situation with you with a more gentler approach. "please, humor me." he took a deep breath, trying to be patient and understanding with you. he was already noticing a slight difference in your behaviour. "i’ve spent nearly a decade teaching in this institute," he continued in a slow yet low tone, “i promise you, i know what I'm talking about. how about i help you right here right now and let’s see where to go from there, got it? tell me what you don’t understand and what you do understand.”
“ . . alright.”
— ♡ —
. . it seems you both had a different idea of “helping”. you hated yourself for enjoying it, he was your professor for heaven’s sake! now you were on your knees, your mouth wrapped around his wet cock as soft grunts left his lips. you couldn’t lie . . he looked absolutely stunning from this angle, the way he threw his head back when you swirled your tongue around the slit of his dick. dr ratio groaned, his voice deep and husky as he leaned closer to see how well you were sucking him off. " . . . u-ugh . . fuck, this mouth of yours needs to be punished . . considering how many times you talked back to me in under an hour.”
before you could pull away from his cock on your own, dr ratio’s free hand slipped downwards, grasping firmly at your head, tugging it upwards. you were roughly pulled away with a gasp, you were almost out of breath as your professor pulled you closer against his chest. “a slut like you needs to learn how to be fucked properly. maybe that’s how i can help you, fuck the information in you.”
he leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck before trailing upward, his tongue tracing along your jawline and then claiming your lips forcefully. his hands moved downwards, his cock throbbing even harder in his pants. he stepped closer, reaching out to fondle one of your breasts, squeezing it softly before running his thumb over your hardened nipple . . massaging them firmly as your tongues tangled together, your moans muffled by his mouth. dr ratio’s eyes widened in awe as he pulled away from your lips, a line of saliva connected your lips and his as he admired the sight of your breasts, now fully exposed for him to feast his eyes upon. he bit his bottom lip, unable to tear his gaze away from them as they were truly a sight to behold, heavy and perky, nipples erect and begging for attention. “tell me, [name],” he licked his lips, reaching down to flick his tongue against one of your nipples.
"why can't you be as skillful as the others? do you not have the intellectual capacity?" he smirked against your nipples, watching you intently as he waited for your response. “you’re nothing but an idiot, are you not? can’t even pass any of my damn classes.” he stepped closer to you, placing one hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you towards his desk. "undress yourself slowly," he commanded, his voice husky with desire.
“ . . prof, we can’t do this . . i’m your student, you’re my professor, you’re seriously overdoing this—“
“do you want to fail my class completely or not, princess?” dr ratio muttered, raising a brow. “do you even understand the situation in front of you? you’re a failing student and should be begging me for help.“ he grabbed you by your thighs, roughly slamming you on top of his desk. “you know what you should be doing? you should be on your fucking knees, groveling for me to give you a second of my attention. instead, you're refusing to let me help get your grade up. besides . .” he leaned in closer against your ear, bringing his voice down to a whisper . . “i know that a dirty slut like you is enjoying this as much as i am.” he raised his hand, slapping your cunt that was clothed by your pink panties as hard as he could. “show me this pussy or it’s an automatic zero.”
your eyes flashed with shock and a hint of pleasure, dr ratio’s voice seething with contempt as it sent shivers down your spine . . it was obvious he wasn't going to let this go easily. you gave in . . wrapping your arms around his neck, “ . . prof . .” your face flushed red, nuzzling against his neck. “can’t . . ‘s embarrassing—“
“veritas.”
“ . . pardon?”
“call me veritas, moan it while i fuck you.”
your professor’s heart skipped a beat at his own boldness, his hand slipped down towards your lower region, grasping firmly at the hem of your skirt and tugging it upwards, revealing your lacy black underwear underneath. with one swift motion, he ripped them apart, exposing your wet glistening pussy to his hungry eyes. "sit on the edge of the desk," he ordered, his voice low and commanding. "spread your legs wide and let me see that pretty cunt.”
you bit your lip, gazing up at him with those sweet eyes of yours as you were hesitant to even do anything under those hungry eyes of his own, “ . . do i have to? that’s . . that’s too embarrassing.”
“do you want to completely fail my class or not?”
wincing at his words, you slowly obeyed his demands . . spreading your legs with a sense of embarrassment and shame as he humiliated you completely, it was like . . he wasn’t even aware he was humiliating you! spreading your legs in front of your own damn professor? you didn’t even know what was going on in your mind at this rate! but yet . . your pussy pulsed around nothing, you craved for this and you hated that the most. the dark haired male reached down, unfastening his own pants and boxers in one swift motion, revealing his massive cock, veined and thick, dripping with precum . . it stood tall and proud, ready to claim whatever it desired, you weren’t even sure if it could fit.
"turn around," he ordered, keeping his tone low and seductive. "show me your ass." you obeyed, slowly hopping off the desk as you bent over . . your ass in his full view. your body flinched, eyes wide as he gave your cheeks one mean yet harsh slap. “try and guess how many times you nearly failed my class.” his hardened member brushed against your entrance teasingly, he couldn't resist anymore. with one swift motion, he positioned himself between your spread legs, aligning his cockhead with your tight hole from behind. “go.”
he pushed slowly, his head sliding past your tight ring of muscles, eliciting a soft moan from you as your eyes rolled back . . your pussy spasming around his thick cock almost instantly . . it was like it belonged there. “p—prof . .”
“ah ah.” he shoved his fingers inside your mouth, pressing the pad of his fingertips against your tongue. “what’s my name, slut? tell me. what did i say.” dr ratio pushed forward, stretching your hole even wider than before . . filling you up inch by agonizing inch. you couldn’t lie, each thrust of his felt like heaven, as if you and him were finally becoming one.
“v—veritas . .”
“good fuckin’ girl.” once fully buried to the hilt, he paused, taking a moment to savour this forbidden moment. his hands gripped your waist tightly, holding you steady as he began to move rhythmically in and out of your wet cunt, hitting your g-spot with a sense of urgency and desperation each powerful thrust. “guess how many times you almost failed my class, come on . . speak up, or are you giving up already?”
“ngh . . three?”
“wrong.” SLAP!
he ran his hand down the fat of your ass, slapping it loudly as you could feel the sound reverberating through the entire room . . your tongue lolling out your lips as another slap came down, even harder than the first. “keep guessing.”
“ah!— u-uhm . . five?” you moaned at the mere feeling of him picking up the pace, his hips rocking in sync with his thrusts. his cock throbbed harder inside your tight channel, stretching and massaging your insides in a way that drove you both wild with pleasure, it’s like . . he was trying to fuck you dumb, fuck you till you couldn’t think. “wrong again.” his voice ran through your ears, moans and gasps filled the room yet muffled by each loud thrust. sweat trickled down your professor’s back as he increased his rhythm, pounding into your hole faster and harder, building towards climax until the tip of his cock slammed against your deepest areas.
his hands roamed freely over your body, cupping your breasts roughly, pinching and tweaking at your nipples until they stood erect and hardened once more. dr ratio bit down on the flesh of your neck, leaving a mark that would serve as a reminder of this moment later on. "see how good i’m fucking this pussy?” he growled, his voice hoarse with desire. “come on, keep going . . stay focused.” he was lost in the feeling of your cunt, pounding into you like it was his last as his thrusts become even stronger as he reached his peak again. dr ratio groaned loudly, his cock throbbing violently inside you as a huge glob of cum shot out, yet his thrusts never yielding.
“mmh . . ah! veritas . . please!” his hands roamed over your body, trailing along your arms and shoulders, stopping at your pretty breasts once more. "fuck, this is the best pussy i’ve ever fucked.” he panted, pulling on one nipple, then the other in turn. "so fucking perfect." your moans and gasps became louder, filling the room with a symphony of pleasure. your bodies moved together in sync, hips rocking in harmony with his thrusts.
SLAP! “come on, baby.”
“s—six . . seven?! fuck . . ah!” piles and piles of paper fell off his desk when you were pushed forward, back arched with your eyes rolled back. “veritas . . i think this is enough . . someone’s gonna hear—“
veritas chuckled mockingly, his eyes glowing with malice as he grabbed hold of your chin firmly, tilting her head back in submission. his lips crashed forcefully against your own, tongue thrusting into your mouth roughly, claiming ownership over your body. "oh, i think you and i both know this is far from enough," he growled between kisses, his hands roaming freely over your lithe figure. "you know damn fucking well . . you don’t want me to fail you, right? so, accept it. your body’s damn made for this, princess . . see how well your body is responding to my cock? c’mon. look at me directly and tell me straight up you don’t enjoy this.”
drawing out soft whimpers from your throat, your professor continued his dirty work on your sensitive spots until you squirmed helplessly beneath him, unable to resist any longer . . your voice stuck between your throat as you couldn’t even find the right words to retort, accepting the way he took you against the desk, his rough thrusts forcing you to push your body against the cold surface as a puddle of cum formed on the floor from your professor’s previous orgasm, so fucking messy . .
“my point taken.” he savoured the feeling of being deep inside your warm, wet hole . . he knew he was gonna have dreams of this pretty cunt of yours, each time he pulled back, a low growl escaped his throat as your bodies slapped together, creating sounds of lustful pleasure. veritas’ hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you steady while his cock continued its relentless exploration of your gummy walls. in sync with each thrust his hips rocked against yours as well, grinding his pelvis and your ass together, the sensation was unlike anything either of them had ever experienced before . . raw, primal, and addictive. you couldn't think but respond to him with your body, your moans becoming more pronounced and needy.
“listen to me,” dr ratio gave your ass another mild smack. “you’re gonna take this dick while you tell me exactly what you’re having trouble with in class, understand? ‘gonna fuck everything through your head just like i said . . afterall . .”
“you can’t afford to fail, can you?”
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a-dauntless-daffodil · 2 months
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can u guess which gif will be at the end of this. can you guess. i'll bet at least a few of you can guess XD
Charlie: "New plan- group bonding through shared, SAFE, suffering!"
Alastor: “Oh joy~”
Husk: "Not this fucking shit again."
Angel Dust: "Well hey as long as it's consensual sufferin'~"
Niffty: (lifts arms at vaggie) "YEEET ME!!!"
Vaggie: "Ughh... no."
Niffty: "Aww."
Vaggie: "I'm never living that one down am I?"
Charlie: "Vaggie, you don't need to live anything down EVER-"
Alastor: "Cough cough! Lied to her girlfriend for three years, cough cough!"
Angel Dust: "Dude you're not supposed t' SAY cough."
Husk: “That’s the part you’re fucking annoyed at?”
Charlie: "-and the POINT is, your whole idea about going through hell to trust the people who go through it with you? Not entirely on the wrong track!"
Vaggie: "Yaaay."
Husk: "You fucked up but for the right un-shitty reasons."
Vaggie: "Great. Thanks."
Charlie: "SO! We're all gonna share the worst work day of our lives with each other!"
Niffty: "Share?" (excited) "By INFLICTING them on each other!?"
Charlie: "Talking, Niffty. We're going to, talk about them."
Niffty: "Aww...."
Husk: "Is there a time limit."
Angel Dust: "Is there a rating limit?"
Alastor: (thoughtful) "Does it still count as a terrible work day if I was able to murder them at the end of it?"
Charlie: "Uhhhh-"
Vaggie: "How 'bout we stick to how it made us feel, rather than all the... X rated... gory details?"
Niffty: (sighs) (slumps over) "This is my worst most terrible work day ever.."
Charlie: "And how do you FEEL about it?"
Niffty: "Sad..."
Vaggie: "I'll let you use my spear for roach hunting after this."
Niffty: (bouncing up) "OH THE EMOTIONS! WHATEVER ONES YOU WANT FROM ME I DON'T CARE, I HAVE THEM!!!"
Husk: "What the fuck."
Angel Dust: "Yeesh."
Charlie: "Okay that's, that's enough sharing from you. Good, um, good job!"
Niffty: "Spear spear spear-"
Charlie: "Well MY worst work day was definitely the one where we were besieged by an army of murderous angels heaven-bent on the full scale slaughter of most of my family! And they actually did kill one! Yeah- that." (laughs) "That fucking sucked and I hated it!"
Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty: (GASP)
Charlie: "What? What??"
Angel Dust: "You said the "H" word, toots.."
Vaggie: "She said a lot more than that while writing an angry text to heaven afterwards."
Charlie: "Hey! You checked the text for me- you know I was polite!"
Vaggie: "Charlie, it was the most aggressively polite 'fuck off' anyone's ever written in the history of all creation. I’m so proud of you for it."
Charlie: "Heh."
Alastor: “Cough get a room please cough.”
Angel Dust: “’m TELLING YOU that’s NOT how it’s supposed ‘t WORK you're not supposed t' SAY IT-”
Charlie: "Ah-hem. Um. Husk? Worst work day-?"
Husk: "Still living it."
Hotel Crew: "....."
Husk: "...but you stupid fuckers are keeping me company through it, so, fucking thanks I guess."
Charlie: (tearful) "Oh Husk. That's so..."
Angel Dust: "Love you too, Mr. Whiskers~"
Husk: "Shut the fuck up."
Vaggie: "Hey."
Husk: "Him, not her. The day your “her” shuts the fuck up is the day we all know we're fucked."
Charlie: "Gosh I hope not." (wipes eyes) "Angel Dust? You wanna...?"
Angel Dust: "My worst shitty day was also my BEST day."
Charlie: (bracing herself) "O...kay...?"
Angel Dust: "A friend came to work an' almost killed the boss for me. Can ya believe that? An' the only reason she didn't open him up a few new 'fun' an' 'interestin' holes of his own was 'cause I had to stop her."
Vaggie: "HELL YEAH!"
Charlie: "You mean-"
Angel Dust: "Yeah. Thanks, apple cheeks. I spent good crack money commissionin' fanart of you wrecking his shit."
Charlie: "WHAT!?"
Vaggie: "You have GOT to let me see that."
Charlie: "VAGGIE!"
Vaggie: "Oh come on, it's better than him buying crack, right?"
Angel Dust: "It def looks waaay better on my wall."
Charlie: "I- that's not-"
Niffty: "Is there BLOOD?"
Charlie: "Oh please don't let there be any-"
Angel Dust: "SO much blood, baby."
Charlie: "Noooo...!"
Vaggie: "Now I really need to see it."
Charlie: "H-WHA?"
Husk: "I really need a fucking drink."
Charlie: "I'm- you know what? I'm pretending I didn't hear any of that. La la la! I have complete deniability!"
Alastor: "That's the spirit! You hardly knew him, certainly never fantasized about decorating him with his own entrails! Just keep reminding yourself of that while hiding the body~!"
Charlie: "NO! Just.... well maybe for him..."
Vaggie: "You're so pretty."
Charlie: (pouting) "We need to commission a piece of you standing over Lute with your spear at her throat. It's not FAIR otherwise."
Vaggie: "Anything for you, babe."
Alastor: "How saccharine. Young love hand in hand, spattered in blood."
Charlie: "A-anyway. Alastor. Your turn."
Alastor: "Hmm. Well, there was the time someone reorganized the reels, somehow without mentioning it to me before air time. And without asking me before hand. But..."
Husk: "Here it comes."
Alastor: "Reorganized their organs for them later that night, likewise unasked, was QUITE fun."
Charlie: "I THOUGHT WE SAID WE COULD JUST TALK ABOUT OUR FEELINGS!"
Alastor: "My feelings?"
Niffty: "PURE UNDILUTED JOY"
Alastor: "Mm no, they didn't scream enough for that..."
Charlie: "AAAAAH!" (covers ears)
Alastor: "Shall we say perhaps, accomplished?"
Vaggie: "Over one murder? Wow. You're sure easy to please."
Alastor: "I've always believed in quality not quantity when it comes to my passion projects. Swift, thoughtless killings are so passé."
Angel Dust: "Y'know, meeting you has really ruined the whole dashing dapper man w' a tinted glass monocle for me. It's that creepy grin. You're a total boner kill."
Alastor: "Oh I do try."
Vaggie: "What about the day you died? Didn't you get fucking shot like a deer, venison a la Alastor?"
Alastor: "Fan of my history, hmm?"
Vaggie: "The TV future about it is pretty funny, not gonna lie."
Alastor: "Ah ha ha! TV DID YOU SAY."
Vaggie: "Vox airs it. Every day."
Alastor: "AND YOU WATCHED IT. HMM?"
Vaggie: "Every. Day."
Angel Dust: "I bring the popcorn and pills."
Husk: "I mix the fucking drinks."
Niffty: "I wish it had more BLOOD!"
Alastor: "ET TU, NIFFTY?"
Charlie: "Okay okay, that's WAY more than enough from you, reel back in the shadow monsters please-"
Alastor: "AHAHAHAH...!" (fades into shadows)
Angel Dust: "Creep. He's prob'ly vaping off to go curse the TV again."
Husk: "For mother fuck. I've got that cooking show coming on tonight. Will smacking the aerial with the angel spear get it working again?"
Vaggie: "Probably...?"
Charlie: "Vaggie!" (desperate) (hopeful) "You have a normal worst day at work to finish this exercise off with, right!?"
Vaggie: "...."
Vaggie: "Uh, well sweetie...."
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fayes-fics · 2 months
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What The True Poet Describes
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: Having been parted for many weeks, it makes you and Benedict realise some truths…
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Warnings: none… this is utter fluff. Romantic confessions and proposals.
Word Count: 1.4k
Authors Note: Anon request fill from HERE (reader returns from travel to confess her feelings for Benedict). Unbetaed. Sorry it has taken me ten months to fulfil this Nonny, but I hope you enjoy! <3
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As your carriage thunders down the cobbled street of Mayfair, your stomach flutters—not from the jostling of the rough surface, but for an entirely different reason. This is a homecoming of sorts, it certainly feels too long since you were here; the sights and the smells of London so enthralling, teeming with life, such a contrast to where you have been. 
But it’s not just that.
They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and for you, nothing could be more apt. It’s been nine weeks, and you are positively aching inside, distance bringing clarity to your heart's true desire. You are jangling with anticipation because of your destination. Not caring a jot for judgement of your actions or any scandal that may ensue, single-minded in your mission.
As the carriage slows in front of a handsome red brick townhouse, you leap out before your footman can assist. So keen for a reunion. The front door sweeps open, and the valet requests your name. But before you can even give it, the very person you want to see materialises at the top of the staircase: so handsome it takes your breath away. His face is one of shock.
“Miss y/l/n?!?” Benedict’s baritone voice rings out in genial confusion.
“Mr Bridgerton!” your responding call an animated response, holding out your hand to him as he descends stairs quickly.
He reaches you and politely takes one of your hands, kissing your gloved knuckles, your blood flushing warm as he does.
“I have missed you!” Unable to hide the breathiness in your claim.
“I have missed you too!” He echoes, still seeming taken aback before shaking his head a fraction.“Gosh, where are my manners? Please come into the drawing room!” 
He leads you there, his hold on your gloved hand respectful but firm, a warmth that stirs your belly.
“Smith, some tea, please,” he requests over his shoulder as he sees you to a seat.
“It’s rather late. Do you have anything stronger?”
His eyebrow shoots up at your perhaps cheeky query, but it's not in judgment, more surprised admiration and respect. 
“Cancel that, Smith,” he calls out. “How about a brandy?” He adds quietly just for you, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
You nod enthusiastically and remove your gloves as he pours two glasses from a decanter nearby.
“What brings you here so late?” 
His skin touches yours briefly as he hands you the glass, a tiny frisson running down your spine.
“I have something to tell you,” you offer, slightly enigmatic. “I hope you will indulge an old friend.”
“Less of the old, please,” he jests gently, raising his glass in a silent toast.
“To good friends,” you amend, mirroring his action, then taking a sip and enjoying the fruity burn of the cognac.
“Good friends,” he echoes after a swig, then smiles at you expectantly, waiting to hear your answer to his question.
“Well, I suppose what I have to say is more of a confession…“ you admit, after another fortifying gulp, eyes downcast upon your glass as you swirl it lightly in your hand—a nervous tic. “Prussia has been nice in some ways, but there was one thing I missed so very much…”
“London?” he guesses
“Yes, but that’s not it,” you smile, looking up again.
“Parties?” he suggests next with a wink.
“Well, yes, those too,” you giggle and blush at the thought of the bohemian parties you have snuck away to in the past, one such gathering being where you met him. “But not what I’m referring to.”
“Tell me then.”
Steeling yourself, you look at him squarely, 
“You, Benedict. My dearest friend. I have missed you. So very terribly,” you confess over a jagged exhale.
He looks abashed, so handsome in his modesty, a dot of colour high on his cheeks as he bows his head and looks at you through his lashes.
“And it made me realise something…” 
You place aside your now empty glass. Nerves have you spring to your feet, taking a pace tentatively towards him, hands wringing.
“What?” 
His question is delicate, almost gossamer, his face enrapt, looking up at you as you stand before him, ready to finally admit out loud what your heart has been screaming for many weeks now, perhaps always.
“Yours is the wise counsel that I have missed the most. My company has been sorely lacking your sparkling wit, and indeed, there are no talented wordsmiths such as yourself to be found. Especially not any with a countenance as pleasing as yours.” 
He blushes deeper, the pinkness staining his cheeks, but he is also staring intently at you now, his breathing a little uneven. So you decide to be brave, to throw all caution to the wind.
“I-I like you, Benedict. So very much. So ardently,” each word a slight stumble, your whole body flushing hot as you lay bare the truth. “I-I wish to call you something infinitely more dear than a friend if you will permit it. These past few weeks have made me realise just how much I have missed you. A-And I felt compelled to rush back to tell you. To see if perhaps y-you might return my affection?” You stumble, your heart pounding wildly and loudly in your ears as you finally stop to take a breath.
He stands up now, too, his lopsided smile tender as he advances slowly toward you.
“Y/n, did you ever stop to consider why I always referred to you as one of my best friends from the very first time we met?” He asks as he draws closer; you are unable to look away, trapped under his intense gaze. 
“N-No?”
“It is because yours is the company I wish for the most. Days without you were, and indeed are, so very bland. I have always wanted your wonderous spirit near me, even if it was only ever as a good friend,” his voice sounding so wistful. “You should know, however, that only scratches the surface of what I feel for you, indeed, what I have always felt for you…” 
You gasp as his fingers tilt up your chin tenderly, and you find yourself lost in his eyes as he speaks again. 
“You are my muse, my wonder. Your ethereal beauty has always haunted me. You fill my every thought. Being apart from you these last few weeks has been such torture.” 
Your entire being feels alight, each cell an inferno, almost in disbelief that his feelings are an apparent mirror of your own.
“Perhaps what I want to say is better expressed in poetry….”
He pauses and looks deep into your eyes as if piercing to your very soul, sonorous, velvet words beginning to tumble from his lips.
“What is it truly to admire a woman?” 
Already captivated by his rhetorical question, you feel yourself sway towards him.
“To look at her and feel inspiration?” 
He gestures to miniature portraits of you dotted around the room, each obviously painted by his talented hand. You are temporarily dumbfounded, not even noticing them until this very moment. 
A soft chuckle from him brings your focus unerringly back to his earnest, handsome face.
“To delight in her beauty?”
He touches your cheek tenderly. It feels like a searing brand mark; you cannot look anywhere but him, lips parted, breath ragged.
“So much so that all your defences crumble…” 
He laces his fingers with yours as you feel a tidal wave of emotion, a tightness in your chest that is your lungs feeling barely able to breathe.
“That you would willingly take on any pain, any burden… for her….” 
He brings your joined hands over his heart, trying to convey the sincerity behind his lyrical declaration as you feel your eyes mist.
“To honour her being… with your deeds and words….” 
His lips brush the back of your knuckles, a wet spike of heat, and then you gasp loudly as he falls to one knee before you, his hands still clutching both of yours.
“I have missed you more than any words can ever express, y/n. I never wish to be parted from you again. I do not yet have a ring for you, but please, will you do me the very greatest honour of being my wife?”
Your world tilts at his wondrous, heartfelt proposal, ebullient joy radiating through your every pore. You begin to nod, a tear welling in the corner of your eye. Knowing there is only one word that will ever be your elated response…
“YES!!”
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neil-gaiman · 9 months
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Dear Mr. Gaiman,
This isn’t a question, but it is a thank you. I carry a lot of existential dread and anxiety about my future--and as a result I have a constant undercurrent of terror about dying. (Sometimes I’ll be so convinced I’m going to die that day that I do some very silly things.) I don’t know when I’m going to die, how I’ll die, how it’ll feel, what’ll happen after…etc etc. And the uncertainty over It All is like a giant terrible wave of Sick Feelings and Hopelessness and Rawrgh Insert More Bad Adjectives Here. 
That’s not my point, my point is: Sandman—The Sound of Her Wings. Watching the characters come to terms with their death is fascinatingly emotional. I felt a sting of the age-old existential crisis, and gosh, seeing some of the panic and grief was heavy. But besides it all, I really wanted to know more about Death. She seemed like a very cool entity, I’d want to talk to her for hours about everything. 
I felt a little sad, sitting there and thinking that that won’t happen when I die, but then I realize, wait, the best part about believing in nebulous concepts such as life after death is that I can believe whatever I want to. I don’t think Kirby Howell-Baptiste is actually going to lead me into the afterlife, but I can think that when I die, Death will meet me and be as kind and understanding as your portrayal of her. It makes me feel a little bit better about the whole ordeal if I can talk to someone comforting at the end.
So yes, thank you for such beautiful writing and for making me feel a little less ill and uncertain. You have a very good day/night, and I’m hoping this strike will yield a satisfactory ending soon enough.
Thank you. So do I.
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soft-girl-musings · 3 months
Text
Stranger Danger
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Steven Grant x Fem!Reader
cross-posted to ao3
MK Spring Bingo entry #5
tags: reader is being stalked & responds in a way the author (a woman) has been taught to, emotional protector steven grant to the rescue, no use of y/n
wc: 1,138
fic summary: There's safety in numbers, do you want mine? (too soon?)
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“Oops, careful!”
Steven drops the last of his veggie wrap as a pair of kids rush past the bench he’d been hunched over. As he picks up the debris, he sees where one of them dropped their hat. He picks it up and half-jogs after them to return it.
“Gotta stay aware of our surroundings, yeah? Don’t want to lose our valuables.” The kid rolls their eyes but thanks him before running off to catch up with their friend.
“Oh my gosh, hi!”
Steven turns around to find you walking swiftly toward him, your smile too wide and tone too familiar.
He’s never seen you before.
“... hello,” he answers cautiously, taking one step back but failing to put much distance between the two of you. You practically cling to his side when you approach, takeaway cup and phone in hand.
“Sorry I’m late, but you are terrible at giving directions, mister.” Taking his arm, you begin to walk away from where you’d appeared.
This wouldn’t be the first time he’s forgotten conversations or plans. But as he racks his brain for something, anything tied to you in his memory, Steven notices the panic in your eyes and the slight waver in your voice.
Your hands shake a bit as you unlock your phone, passing your cup to him. He takes it, still bewildered but obedient. “I swear, the cafe never spells your name right. Let me make a note for next time.” You type swiftly, showing him the screen.
being followed, please pretend you're my boyfriend
Steven doesn’t know you.
But he nods, grasping your arm closer with his free hand and gives his most convincing grin. “Steven with a ‘V’, love.”
Relief instantly washes over your features and you relax a little. “Right. I’ll remember that… Steven.”
His smile grows before he remembers why you're holding onto him. “Do you want to sit down? Or go somewhere else, maybe I could call someone–”
“N-no, it’s fine. Let’s just sit. In plain sight,” you half-whisper. Steven nods, ushering you back to the bench in the middle of the busy square. When you sit, you don't let go of his arm.
Instead, you type into your phone as you speak. “Lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?” Steven glaces at your notes app again.
do you see a man in a black jacket?
Steven scans the area, careful not to look too suspicious. Unlike the person he’s sure you’re referring to: a man in dark clothes, hands shoved into his pockets and rigid as he looks around with increasing urgency. His prominent frown grows when he sees Steven next to you.
“Yeah,” Steven says to both your questions. He looks away from the menacing figure, but sets your drink down and wraps his arm around you. He's glad to feel you settle into his side, still shaking but catching your breath.
“I take it you don’t know Mr. Black Jacket?”
“No, I do. Sort of. He’s a regular customer of mine,” you sigh. “One who doesn’t know how to take ‘no’ for an answer.”
“Ah.” Steven keeps the guy in his periphery, splitting his focus between him and you. “Stalker, then?”
You freeze up at the term. “Yeah… he’s been pretty relentless.” 
You meet his eyes, which are swiftly filling with concern. “Thanks again for… this. I usually find a mom or another woman to walk with me until he leaves, but I saw you with those kids and just… panicked, I guess.”
“S’not a problem, love.” Steven knocks your foot with his, drawing a small smile from you. “Glad to help you feel safe.”
You laugh a little. You let your gaze drift over to the man in black, an uneasy pit growing in your stomach when you briefly make eye contact.
“He usually goes away after a while. I've told the police, but they can't do anything unless he… you know.” Your brow furrows as your grip loosens. “I don't mean to take over your afternoon, but would you mind waiting with me?”
In that moment, you could have asked Steven for the moon and he'd find a way to lasso it down for you. 
He squeezes your hand. “‘Course I can. Lovely day with lovely company, quite the ideal afternoon in my books.” 
Steven dives right into talking about anything and everything that comes to mind– which, as you learn, is a lot. Normally he'd hit a wall after a few minutes, either because he'd realized he had talked himself in circles, or his less-than-captive audience was visibly zoned out. But you hang on his every word, grateful to be arm in arm with a stranger describing the supposed viscosity of ancient Egyptian embalming oil. It's a welcome distraction. 
So distracting, in fact, that after an hour you realize the crowd has thinned around you. With Mr. Black Jacket nowhere in sight.
“I think he's gone,” you sigh with relief. Steven stands when you do, handing your things back.
“Patience won out in the end,” he beams. You see a brief look of panic cross his features.
“He doesn't know where you live, does he? Do you need an escort?” Steven's already taken a ludicrously long lunch break, but the inevitable lecture from Donna would be worth it if it meant ensuring your safety.
You shake your head. “I've been careful.” Extending your hand, you smile. “It was nice to meet you, Steven with a ‘V’.”
“Likewise, love.” He shakes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Another look crosses his face before he continues.
“Do you want my mobile number?” His words come out too fast; if you hadn't spent the past hour listening to him, you might have missed what he said. “Just in case you need someone to wait with you again, or keep an eye out. Would that be alright?” He shakes his head, stepping back. “'Matter of fact, forget I said anything, don't want you to think you've traded one creep for another–”
“Sure.”
Your simple answer stops him in his tracks. “Oh, you don’t have to–”
“No, it’s fine. Really. When you offered, it felt nice to know someone could be in my corner on this side of town.”
You take out a scrap of paper and a pen from your bag. “How about this: you write it down, and I’ll add your contact if I ever need my knight in shining armor again.”
Steven concedes, pen and paper in hand as he scribbles his number down (then asks for a new paper in case the first was too illegible).
When you leave, he watches until you turn the corner. He goes the opposite direction, back to the museum. Part of him hopes you’ll never have to reach out, for your own sake. The rest of him hopes you do anyway.
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A/N: oh steven, the man that you are. a couple more bingo prompts will be focused on this dude, which is excellent practice for some exciting projects down the line...
as always, ty for reading <3
event tags: @moonknight-events @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight
addtl tags: @mrs-lockley @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi @nerdieforpedro (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)
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