#no i did not confirm which way is west

[thayoqu]

sorry for being late 😭😭 anyway happy borthday to the best boy

#ygo #gx #judai yuki #pixel #yes this is based of tbilisi #no i did not confirm which way is west

[esyra]

After the hospital bombing, I finally heard back from my grandmother and confirmed that several of my relatives were murdered by Israeli bombing. Seven of them, to be precise. Three are still going, including her. We've been talking constantly ever since.

Asked if it was possible to head south, and was told they did but were also bombed there. So they decided to go back home, in Zeitoun. Their home was bombed and they were pulled out of the rumble, then driven by ambulances to the al-Ahli Arab Hospital. There were people in every corner. Gazans sheltering, sleeping on the floor. Gazans dying on the floor, waiting for beds.

Four were declared dead on arrival, three were in need of surgery and other three were just bandaged. Then, a bomb was dropped in the parking lot that made parts of the ceiling collapse, like Dr. Ghassan Abu Sittah reported in that horrific conference/interview. Those in need of surgery died.

By the way, just in case you didn't know: the Church of Saint Porphyrius, the third oldest in history, bombed by Israel a few days back, was located near the hospital.

When looking for new shelter, they saw schools with signs hanging outside, "We can't take any more families." They met families, sympathetic but already sheltering too many people. They're now staying in an apartment building they found empty. Sleeping in the corner of the living room. If the family comes back, they'll apologize and leave.

Told me she was saving her phone battery for when the bombing stopped, and she had to ask for help to rebuilt the neighborhood. But she doesn't think it's gonna stop anymore. The ones still with her are mute most of the time, like they're saving energy, but she feels lonely and wanted to talk. There's no internet and to connect to WhatsApp, people are buying "a card from the supermarket, there's a password and username." Not sure what she meant. Still, the internet is inconsistent and won't load neither videos or images nor pages, so she doesn't know what's happening on the outside world.

Told her there were a lot of people protesting to stop the genocide, she replied, "The bombings are getting worse by the day." The bombing yesterday was the worst she ever witnessed. The entire neighborhood is infested with the smell of death, of decomposing bodies. Bodies are piling up in the streets and she's not sure if it's because they ran out of places to store them, but most of them are in bags. The smoke of the bombings hide the blue sky—she hasn't seen the clouds for a while.

Asked if I could share their pictures, names and dreams with people and was told, of which I partly agree, "they're not entertainment." If anyone genuinely cared, they would be alive—I'd argue there are people who do care, but I'm not gonna lecture her pain. And they don't deserve to be used to fulfill someone's sick fantasy. Told me to remember what some Israelis do with pictures of dead Palestinians. And I do.

For those of you who are not familiar, many times before settlers got together to celebrate the murder of Palestinians. For one, in 2015, Israeli settlers set a house in Duma, West Bank on fire. An 18-month old baby, Ali Dawbsheh, was burnt alive. Both parents later died of wounds and only a 5-year-old, Ahmad, survived, although severely injured.

Two celebrations of their murder are widely known, one at a wedding and others outside the court in which two were indicted for the terrorist attack. In the wedding, guests stabbed a photo of the toddler, Ali, while others waved guns, knives and Molotov cocktails. Israel's Minister of National Security, Itamar Ben-Gvir, was present.

That's what happens in an apartheid. Palestinians are so abused by authorities that their "innocent civilians" come to accept the brutality as necessary or are desensitized by our suffering. After all, it's been 75 years—get used to it!

So I won't risk the image of my loved ones, in fear they are used in these kinds of depravity. I will say, though, the world lost a young footballer. Lost a female writer and an aspiring ballerina. Lost a kind father, who was also a great cook, and a loving mother that enjoyed sewing and other types of handicraft art. Lost a math teacher and a child that wanted to become one.

People think Israel is testing new weapons on them. There's civilians arriving at the hospital with severe burns, which they thought was from white phosphorus, but apparently the pattern is different from the one caused by white phosphorus. It's widely believed Israel tests weapons in Palestinians.

Jeff Halper, author of War Against the People, a book on Israel's arms and surveillance technology industries, said: "Israel has kept the occupation because it's a laboratory for weapons."

They've ran out of drinkable water and the "aid" Biden sent was only for the South of Gaza and no fuel, for hospitals, was allowed in. Many shelves in the supermarket are empty. She said many are convinced that if they don't die from the bombing, they'll die from starvation or dehydration, or whatever disease will develop from the dirty water they're drinking.

Told me all people do now is pray, cry and die. Told me she hopes West Bank is spared. Told her Israel bombed a mosque in West Bank and dozens of Palestinians in West Bank are being murdered by settlers, so she bided me goodbye.

#palestine #free palestine #gaza #free gaza #may allah protect them #may almighty allah see our pain #hopefully she'll message me tomorrow

[eddiesxangel]

I Don’t Think We Are In 1986 Anymore? | Eddie Munson x Reader

Participating in the Stranger Prompts directly from the Twilight Zone. Created by @bettyfrommars @allthingsjoeq @somnambulic-thing 🖤

Choose a prompt from the list, add in your choice of Eddie or Steve, and spin the story however you like!

Combining two prompts bc why not ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

1.He shows up at your house covered in mud in the rain, but the problem is, he died two months ago

11. You find a man hiding in your house, and he says he’s from another dimension.

cw: Mentions of Eddie's death (dw he ain't dead) and his injuries from the upsidedown.

wc: 2.3k

1986

It had been two months since the events of Vecna ensued. There was a memorial for the friends and families of the victims who suffered the gruesome death caused by the supernatural creature. Unfortunately, Eddie Munson was still considered to be the culprit and did not get the chance to defend himself against the wrath of the people of Hawkins.

Only those who knew Eddie in the end stood at his grave site, unable to retrieve his body; they mourned the loss of their friend at an empty grave.

Eventually, life moved on, and his friends kept his spirit alive by regularly talking about him and the stories of Eddie the Banished turning into Eddie the Brave. They never would let one another forget the events of that fatal night...

2024

You were just getting out of the shower, walking into your bedroom to get ready for your work day. It was about 6:39am. Your usually morning routine as going to plan, you were about to pick out an outfit before sitting to dry your hair.

That was before you were almost frightened half to death. A blood-curdling scream left your throat when you saw a young man covered in dirt and filth crouched in your closet.

He screamed back in return, being more scared about what was happening to him that you seemed to understand.

Eddie had gone through literal hell, and back that had left him emotionally and physically drained. He found himself waking up back in the real world, unsure of how he'd gotten there. Looking around, he realized he was in a place resembling his hometown of Hawkins, but something was off.

He was in immense pain and covered with his own blood, demobat blood and dirt… lots of it. It was caked into his skin as he looked down at himself, it looked like he went through a mud slide. His fingers were a deep earth colour and he couldn’t tell where the blood started and the dirt stopped. He could feel the dried cracked mud covering his face. It made him think about how anyone could stand those mud masks if they made your skin feel this tight and dry.

Despite the confusion, Eddie recognized where he was. He was in the trailer park, or what used to be the trailer park. It was the same plot of land where he had lived for years. The street signs confirmed this, but there were houses instead of trailers.

As he looked around, he noticed that the tree to the west, which had always been a familiar sight, had aged considerably. Its branches were bent and twisted, and its leaves had turned a dull brown colour.

Eddie couldn't help but wonder how much time had passed since he had last been in this place. He felt uneasy, unsure of what to do next. What he did know was that he needed to get his wounds patched up, take a shower, and get some food. There was no way he was going to a hospital, so he tried his luck, and the house's back door, where his uncle's trailer use to be, was unlocked.

Eddie had no clue what time it was or what day. So he risked walking into the house, look around for any signs of life and decided to enter.

As he felt a parching thirst, he walked towards the refrigerator and opened it. Inside, he saw a clear and chilled water bottle that caught his eye and immediately reached for it. He twisted the cap open and took a few big gulps, feeling the water quench his thirst and refresh his body.

As he drank the water, his eyes wandered inside the fridge, and he spotted a shiny red apple lying on the shelf. He decided to take it, as he felt a sudden pang of hunger and knew that he needed some nutrients to boost his energy levels, not really having any since Chrissy's death a few weeks ago. It was a miracle, he didn’t starve to death let alone escape the Upsidedown.

He reached for the apple and turned it around in his hand, not bothering to wash it before he took a bite, feeling the crunch of the juicy flesh and the sweet taste of the fruit. After he ravaged the apple, Eddie spotted some packed cold cuts and some cheese. He swiped those and made his way to try and find a bathroom.

Eddie didn't have much luck on the first floor as he wandered your house, so he walked up the stairs and saw your bedroom door open. Before he could look elsewhere, he heard running water being shut off and a light hum coming from what he could only assume was the bathroom. So Eddie panicked and jumped into your closet to hide.

After a few more minutes of terrified screaming, as you stood there in nothing but your bath towel, you threatened to call the police.

"Please, no, I'm not going to hurt you, I swear! I'm innocent!"

"Innocent! You broke into my home."

"I'm sorry I was so hungry, and you have no idea the month I have had." He got up, and you flinched, stepping back and gripping your towel tighter.

As the man stood, you noticed he was limping; he had dried blood smeared on his clothes and face. He looked to be in a lot of pain.

Against your better judgment, you felt sorry for him. He looked scared and helpless, not to mention dressed peculiarly. He had a bandana wrapped around his head, covering his long hair. Guys don't have that kind of long of hair nowadays. He also wore a bulky green vest over a leather jacket—odd for the summer months? and his shoes, they were vintage.

"I should call you an ambulance or something." You mumble as you try to cover as much of your body as you can.

"No!"

He screamed, and you flinched again. You looked over to your dresser where your phone was sitting, wondering if you could get to it before this psycho kills you.

"I'm sorry, but no, no hospitals." He shakes his head; he looks like he might cry.

"But you're hurt!" you protest. Why? You don't know. You have an extreme empathy meter, and now you hate yourself for it.

"What day is it?" He changes the subject.

"Friday"

"No I mean… last I remember it was March?."

"It’s May 17th, 2024," you reiterate.

"Excuse me? I think I have dirt still in my ears. You said what now?" He chuckles uncomfortably.

"It's May."

"No, I heard that; what year is it?" He asks with a hard tone.

"Two-thousand-and-twenty-four," you sound out each syllable like it was an idiot.

"Jesus H Christ," He whispers as his doe eyes get even bigger than you thought possible.

You didn't know what to do, this guy clearly needed help and maybe a psych evaluation, but you wanted to help him. If he had wanted to murder you he would have done so already.

"What is your name?" You bravely ask.

"Eddie... uh.... Munson"

"WHAT" you scream, almost dropping your towel in shock.

"What? What's wrong? I'm innocent; I swear I didn't hurt that girl!"

"No, I know that! I know that name... But Eddie Munson died in the eighties?"

"Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I am, in fact, Eddie Munson and very much alive... unfortunately."

"What year were you born?" Maybe this was a coincidence? Maybe, there could be two Eddie Munsons from Hawkins, Indiana, who your father never shut the fuck up about.

"1965" He answered confidently.

"You sure about that?" you question."

"You want me to go back in time to get my birth certificate?" He still can't believe he is in the year 2024, but then again he just went through a lot of stuff he still cant wrap his head around.

"No, no, it’s just you’re very young for a 59-year-old," You giggle.

"I’m not crazy!"

He looked kinda crazy

"Ok, ok, I’m sorry." Why were you apologizing?

"What year were you born?" he asks.

"1995"

"Woah." He walks over and plops himself on your vanity chair. This was too much. Eddie wanted to go home—to be clean, eat, and be with his uncle. Now, he was stuck in another dimension. The future?

You stood there and watched as the wheels in Eddie's head started to turn.

"Listen... I uh- fuck I'm absolutely insane," You mumbled to yourself. "I will let you use my shower... and I'll give you some clean clothes. I'll give you my phone to call whoever, okay?" That would be you and him sometime.

"Thank you." He signed. His shoulder dropped and he genuinely looked relieved.

You walked to your closet to get him a fresh towel and showed him to the bathroom. You also grabbed a fresh toothbrush for him. Who knows the last time he had access to a bathroom? As he stripped, you saw a very familiar, albeit ripped, logo plastered on his chest under the layers of grime.

You had to confirm with your dad what this Eddie Munson looked like. You felt like you were going crazy.

When Eddie was in the shower, you finally changed into clothes and immediately called your dad.

"Hey, Honey, what's going on?" He sounds like he was just waking up.

"I need your help!" you half scream in a whispered tone.

"Are you hurt has happened?" Your dad piped out of bed frantically.

"No, I'm okay, I need you to come here as soon as possible, its an emergency"

"Ok im coming. Do you need me to stay on the phone?"

"No, but I need you to get here as soon as possible." You bite your nail out of habit.

"Ok, ok, you're freaking me out-" You hear the jingle of keys and your mom yelling in the background "-you promise you're okay?"

"Yes, just please get here. Now," You hang up and collect Eddie's clothes and throw them into the washing machine.

Once you hang up with your dad, you call in sick to work because there is no way you're going in now. This had to be some weird fever dream. The wheels in your head were turning, and you saw Eddie emerge from the bathroom, cleaned up and no longer dark brown from being caked in blood and dirt.

Your eyes widen as you fully take in the man standing in your house. You finally recognized him; you had seen his picture plenty of times before.

"What? What is wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost?" He half smiles, and your heart swells. You can't believe what's happening, but you have to play it cool.

"Do-uh, do you need any help with uh-" You motioned to his middle; there was a nasty gash on his side; it looked irritated and swollen.

"Um, yeah, if you have any alcohol or something to clean it?"

"Ok, I should, um, you can go to my room; I left you some sweatpants that should fit and a t-shirt." You pass by him back into the bathroom to find your first aid kit.

"Uh, so I don't know if this is expired or not; let me just google how long rubbing alcohol can be opened for." you smile, picking up your phone and not giving it a second thought.

"What a Goolgle?"

This made you chuckle.

"An internet web browser," you smile, typing away.

“What’s that?” he points to your cell phone.

"A cellphone?" Maybe he was telling the truth about being from 1986?

"That’s not a cell phone." He scoffs.

"Yes it is" you giggle.

"You can call people from that thing?"

"And go online, FaceTime; it holds music, takes pictures, text, it has a flashlight, it even has a calculator." you wink.

"Face what?"

"Oh, uh. Video call… "

"Woah," Eddie was shocked.

"It can do a bunch of other stuff, but uh, let's stick to researching the life of opened-up rubbing alcohol, shall we?"

You find out that it should be safe to use, dab it on a cotton ball, and gently pat Eddie's wound, and he winces at the sting.

After a few minutes of silent concentration, you stand up with a satisfied smile.

"That should do it. Can I get you anything to eat or drink?" you motion for him to follow you, and he does as he pulls the only band shirt over his wet mop.

"Uh yeah, anything. I'll take anything." Eddie was still famished.

You get some eggs, bread, and bacon, a quick and hearty meal for him.

As the sizzle of the bacon fills the room, Eddie's stomach growls.

"It will be done soon" You smile from over your shoulder.

"Hey, um you never told me your name..."

"Oh, everyone calls me Birdie... Kinda named after my aunt." you smile.

"Nice to meet you, Birdie." He smiles, and your heart flutters a little.

Stop it right now. You scold yourself internally. What the fuck was wrong with you?

You shake off your thoughts about how attracted you are by the weird stranger sitting at your kitchen table and serve him his breakfast.

Eddie doesn't say much as he wolfs down the home-cooked meal.

"Oh god, this is so good," he moans just as you head a pounding at the door. Eddie freezes like a deer caught in headlights.

"It's not the cops, I promise." You reassure him, resting your hand on his forearm.

Before you can stand up, your dad unlocks your front door, running inside with your mom right on his tail.

"Birdie, honey!" He yells out.

"In the kitchen, Dad!"

"Dad?" Eddie looks to you.

You can no longer hold back your smile, and your dad comes running into the room, running to you, pulling you into a tight death grip of a hug, making sure you are, in fact, okay.

You lock eyes with the man sitting at your table. As your dad turns to see the not-so-stranger sitting at his daughter's kitchen table.

"Holly shit Eddie?!”

"Henderson?!"

"I'm calling Uncle Steve."

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x g!n reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson prompt #strangerprompts #Eddie Munson blurb #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson

[batboyblog]

Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week.

January 19-26 2024

The Energy Department announced its pausing all new liquefied natural gas export facilities. This puts a pause on export terminal in Louisiana which would have been the nation's largest to date. The Department will use the pause to study the climate impact of LNG exports. Environmentalists cheer this as a major win they have long pushed for.

The Transportation Department announced 5 billion dollars for new infrastructure projects. The big ticket item is 1 billion dollars to replace the 60 year old Blatnik Bridge between Superior, Wisconsin, and Duluth, Minnesota which has been dangerous failing since 2017. Other projects include $600 million to replace the 1-5 bridge between Vancouver, Washington, and Portland, Oregon, $427 million for the first offshore wind terminal on the West Coast, $372 million to replace the 90 year old Sagamore Bridge that connects Cape Cod to the mainland,$300 million for the Port of New Orleans, and $142 million to fix the I-376 corridor in Pittsburgh.

the White House Task Force on Reproductive Healthcare Access announced new guidance that requires insurance companies must cover contraceptive medications under the Affordable Care Act. The Biden Administration also took actions to make sure contraceptive medications would be covered under Medicare, Medicaid, CHIP, and Federal Employee Health Benefits Program. HHS has launched a program to educate all patients about their rights to emergency abortion medical care under the Emergency Medical Treatment and Labor Act. This week marks 1 year since President Biden signed a Presidential Memorandum seeking to protect medication abortion and all federal agencies have reported on progress implementing it.

A deal between Democrats and Republicans to restore the expand the Child Tax Credit cleared its first step in Congress by being voted out of the House Ways and Means Committee. The Child Tax Credit would affect 16 million kids in the first year and lift 400,000 out of poverty. The Deal also includes an expansion of the Low-Income Housing Tax Credit which will lead to 200,000 new low income rental units being built, and also tax relief to people affected by natural disasters

The Senate Foreign Relations Committee voted for a bill to allow President Biden to seize $5 billion in Russian central bank assets. Biden froze the assets at the beginning of Russia's war against Ukraine, but under this new bill could distribute these funds to Ukraine, Republican Rand Paul was the only vote against.

The Senate passed the "Train More Nurses Act" seeking to address the critical national shortage of nurses. It aims to increase pathways for LPNs to become RNs as well as a review of all nursing programs nationally to see where improvements can be made

3 more Biden Judges were confirmed, bring the total number of Judges appointed by President Biden to 171. For the first time in history the majority of federal judge nominees have not been white men. Biden has also appointed Public Defenders and civil rights attorneys breaking the model of corporate lawyers usually appointed to life time federal judgeships

#good news #thanks Biden #Joe Biden #Democrats #politics #us politics #climate change #abortion #reproductive rights #child tax credit #judges

[tismrot]

GOOD OMENS in CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER (a fanfic helper)

I tried to find this online, but I only found bits and pieces here and there. This should be a very good tool when writing fanfics, or just for understanding the narrative - so, here's my best attempt at a timeline for the canonized events in the show. Let me know if I missed any, or if something is wrong! CHRONOLOGY of GOOD OMENS 4004 BC: Before the Beginning (Sunday, October 21st, Nowhere, no name for Crowley) Aziraphale meets Crowley as an angel in Heaven pre-Beginning and Crowley makes a star factory. 4004 BC: The Eden Wall (Rather more than 7 days later, Crawley) Crowley finds Aziriaphale on the Eden wall and they talk about right and wrong. Aziraphale gave his sword to Adam and lies to God about it. Eve looks about 6 months pregnant. 3004 BC: Noah’s Ark (Ancient Mesopotamia, Crawley) Crowley finds Aziraphale in front of the Ark and they talk about how God will drown kids. 2500 BC: A Companion to Owls (Land of Uz, Crawley) Crowley and Aziraphale work together to save Job's kids from God. 1353 - 1336 BC: Nefertiti's reign as queen, during which, at some point, Aziraphale did a magic trick for her. (Thebes/Luxor, ancient Egypt, Crawley) (unfilmed, just mentioned) We know he fooled her with a "lone caraway seed and three cowry shells" 33 AD: Crucifixion of Jesus (Golgotha, Palestine, name change to Crowley) Crowley (canonically confirmed female form) tells Aziraphale she showed Jesus the world. 41 AD: Oysters in Rome (41 AD) Aziraphale playfully tempts Crowley to go eat oysters with him at Petronus' restaurant. If this isn't innuendo, I don't know what is. 537 AD: Medieval England/King Arthur (Kingdom of West Essex) Aziraphale as a knight of the Round Table meets the Black Knight (Crowley) who suggests the Arrangement for the first time. Aziraphale says no. 1020: The Arrangement is agreed to (unfilmed, just mentioned in the book or by Neil) I can't find the exact date - tell me if this is wrong? 1040 - 1601: Crowley and Aziraphale act on their arrangement "dozens of times", as mentioned in the Globe Theatre. As far as I've understood this arrangement (correct me if I'm wrong) it means that whenever they receive orders from Heaven or Hell, they tell the other, compare notes, and if it takes place in the same area, they agree that just one of them has to go do both tasks. Either that, or both tell their respective bosses that the task has been done, because they would have cancelled each other out either way. Letters would probably be too risky communication other than "Let's meet up at....", so I assume they have seen a lot of each other during this time. 1500s: Something related to the Catholic Church and the Papacy (Rome?). (Unfilmed idea) My theory: Raphael/Crowley (Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino) works as painter in Rome from 1508 until his "death" in 1520. He was invited to Rome by Pope Julius II and was immediately commissioned to work on a series of frescoes for the Pope's private library in the Vatican Palace. Crowley can't enter consecrated spaces. Hilarity ensues. This would explain his conversation about helicopters (in the book) with Leonardo da Vinci. 1601: Hamlet (Globe Theatre, London) Aziraphale and Crowley meet inconspicuously as Shakespeare struggles with Hamlet (both actor and play), and Aziraphale agrees to do both his and Crowley's assignments in Edinburgh. 1650: Aziraphale does his first apology dance (unknown) Nothing more is known about this event. 1655: Agnes Nutter's book is published, and doesn't sell a single copy. 1656: Agnes Nutter is burned (Lancashire, England, 1656) After writing the Nice and Accurate Prophecies, she is burned by Pulsifer's ancestor. 1793: French Revolution (The Bastille, Paris) Aziraphale puts himself in harm's way by dressing like a nobleman while looking for crepes in revolutionary Paris, just so that Crowley will save him. 1800s: Aziraphale opens his bookshop. (Soho, London) I can't figure out when, it just says 19th century online. Crowley asks if Aziraphale wasn't supposed to open a bookshop when he saves him in the Bastille.

1827: The Resurrectionist (Edinburgh, October) Aziraphale and Crowley discuss morality, meet Elspeth and Wee Morag - and the body snatching doctor.

1827 - ????: Crowley sleeps or is in Hell We don't actually know long or exactly when, but in the book it's mentioned he only got up to go to the toilet once. Why?

1862: St. James’s Park, London Crowley is paranoid, Aziraphale won't give him holy water. 1862 - ????: Wild West meetup (Unfilmed idea) Neil Gaiman just had the idea, it wasn't filmed.

1928: Crowley buys the Bentley And he keeps it in tip-top shape until the Not-Apocalypse. 1933: Aziraphale gets his driving license (unknown location)

1941: WW2 Blitz (London) Church bombing, magic show, photo taken, shades of dark and light grey.

1967: Aziraphale gives Crowley holy water (Soho, London) ...And says Crowley goes too fast for him. He does it because Crowley is about to orchestrate the robbery of a church. One of the robbers is Witchfinder Sergeant Shadwell, who we meet later. He offers his 'army' to Crowley.

1980s: Crowley designs the M25 (Hell) No other demons understand the whole thing about constant, low-level, effortless evil.

2007: Three children are born in a hospital in Tadfield The old switch-a-roo.

2007 - later that night: Godfather meetup (Soho, ca 2009) They're drunk, talking about whale brains and agreeing to raise Warlock as nanny and gardener.

2012 - 2018: Raising Warlock (Winfield House, England) He's way too normal! 2018: Not-Apocalypse (Saturday, August 11th, Tadfield Airbase) Do I need to explain this? 2019 - 2023: Beelzebub and Gabriel start meeting each other. We see them meet in an American bar, a Russian café and in the Resurrectionist in Edinburgh. 2020: Lockdown (London) Aziraphale goes on about cake, Crowley wants to come by and watch him eat. Aziraphale chickens out.

2023: Jimbriel (Soho, London) A naked archangel with amnesia shows up on Aziraphale's doorstep. --- UPDATED AND IMPROVED

#crowley #good omens fandom #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #innefable husbands #crowley edits #ineffable divorce #good omens timeline #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #good omens ficlet #good omens fic rec #good omens art #crowley good omens #good omens fanart #the bentley #good omens bildad #bildad my beloved #bildad brainrot #bildad nation #bildaddy #bildad the shuhite #a companion to owls #good omens minisode #good omens chronology #good omens #gomens

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

here's a wild one for y'all. cw for parental death. names have been changed, it is a kinda specific situation but I think only 1 of my family members is on Tumblr so whatever. sorry it got so long, it's a complicated situation and still VERY fresh so my brain is kinda fried lol.

tldr my dad passed away without a will and we want to give his long-distance "side" gf the house he helped her buy. I'm worried she won't be able to afford the mortgage, but don't really want to give her any of the monetary payouts. WIBTA if my brothers and I kept all of the cash?

so late last week (it's Dec 19 as of submitting) my father (60s M) passed away in a sudden car accident on his way to work. I'm (late 20s ftM) his oldest child, I also have a younger brother (mid 20s M) who we'll call Phineas and an even younger half-brother (almost tween, M) who we'll call Aaron.

so I'd describe my dad as a kind and loving but stubborn and stupid man. I would also guess, based on what I know of his love life, that he was polyamorous but didn't realize it due to his conservative Christian upbringing and didn't know it was an option so instead ended up being...well, kinda an adulterer tbh. this isn't to excuse his actual actions bc they were obviously wrong, but is the way the situation reads to me, a polyamorous person.

Dad had a long distance girlfriend (50s??? maybe??? F) on the West Coast (we live near the East Coast), we'll call her Melody. I met her a few years back when he flew Phineas and I with him to visit her. she's a sweet woman from what I know of her. when I got the news of his passing, I was the one who called her to let her know what happened. (which sucked.)

well, what I Didn't know until I was trying to scrape together travel arrangements (I live 5 hours away from Phineas and my dad) was that he also had a Wife (60sF), who we'll call Patricia. (it wasn't a legal marriage, it was "in the eyes of the Lord" as they said, due to legal complications to do with her social security benefits or something. which is why the arrangements for his death fell onto Phineas and I as his adult children. but if he called her his wife then as far as I'm concerned that's what she is.) he didn't really tell me or Phineas about the full nature of their relationship. Phineas found out bc our dad was spending so much time with her that he'd practically moved in w her, put two and two together and asked her to confirm. I never even knew she existed till all this happened. he had told his parents and siblings about her, and they approved of her. we can only speculate why he kept it so quiet to us, she thinks bc of his history with Real Duds that we'd be upset somehow. idk.

so anyway Patricia knew about Melody. my dad was already seeing Melody when he started seeing Patricia. I don't know what he was thinking when he got with Patricia tbh, can't ask him now anyway, but she knew about Melody the whole time. wasn't thrilled about it, constantly told him he needed to tell her the truth and end things, but doesn't truly hold that against Melody herself bc she didn't know.

Melody, however, did not know about Patricia. he was planning to tell her at some point. kept meaning to. still loved her, didn't wanna hurt her, but was also trying to be monogamously committed to Patricia too. he never got around to actually ending things with Melody before he passed, and as far as she knew he was still planning to move out there and get married to her. he even took out a loan to help her pay for her late mother's house, both their names are on the mortgage and deed.

which brings me to my question. my dad didn't seem to have a will (not that we can find anyway), so Phineas and I are the ones in charge of distributing his various belongings and payouts and such. we both agree that we don't have any use for some house across the country, and Melody is already living in it anyway. imo she should just Have It. however, she is also Pretty Poor. I don't know the specifics of her situation (or, really, much about the complications of home ownership?) but I do worry about her ability to continue to pay the mortgage, assuming that's a thing. we're still waiting to hear about all the details and numbers and have somebody who actually knows about that stuff translate it into layman's terms for us non-homeowners (or in Phineas's case, Brand New Homeowner) so we can get a full picture of how all that is going to work legally speaking.

Dad also had life insurance thru his employer. we are still working thru the red tape at his company to figure out who the beneficiary is, the most likely candidate being me as the eldest child. Phineas and I are agreed that we'll at least be splitting most, if not all, the money evenly between us and Aaron. Patricia is INSISTENT that she doesn't want any of it, she wants us kids to keep it bc unlike some of his exes she never cared about his money (he made GOOD money, but still ended up kinda poor due to both being generous to, and having been taken advantage of by, multiple women since my bio mom died. including having to shell out an insane amount of child support for Aaron despite already having a very active role in his life. like he paid more child support than either I or my fiancee even make at our jobs, while also frequently just straight up directly providing for him where he could). because of his income it's looking like a pretty hefty payout.

however, my brother and I are both pretty poor as well. while we don't know the exact amount we're getting, some are speculating a number that, even split 3 ways, would be Life-Changing for us. we're talking 5 figure amounts, more than I or my fiancee make in a year. like we'll still need to work for a living but, for example, it could be a down-payment on a house or a massive safety net for when I'm out of work (I have a steady job but with seasonal unpaid breaks). it could help Phineas afford expensive repairs for the trailer he now owns, which my dad was supposed to help pay for. in the right account with a decent interest rate, it could be tuition for when Aaron goes to college.

I feel like I Should probably toss some of that money Melody's way, esp since I feel so bad that she's getting the one-two punch of finding out her bf died AND also he had a wife she wasn't aware of. but my brothers and I could really use that money as well. I don't know that Phineas wants to send her any, we're saving that conversation for when we know more of the exact numbers. I don't even know how much Dad was paying towards it, or if he even was anymore. plus--and this is kinda a minor detail--but there's kind of a general vibe I'm getting from the Family (ALL 4 of my dad's siblings AND both his parents are somehow still alive) that Melody is kinda...unliked. they love Patricia and were CONSTANTLY frustrated that he was still visiting Melody and frequently sending her money; I get the feeling they viewed her the same as some of his other gold-digging exes so i think maybe sending her Even More Money would look a little weird? like she's already getting full ownership of a house out of the deal. most of them are in agreement that Phineas and I are the ones who get the final say on the bulk of these decisions but they're...a little pushy anyway.

like I said, we don't know what any of the actual numbers look like AT ALL yet, so it might actually be fine. but WIBTA if we just left her the sole homeowner when she couldn't really afford it, and not send her any money? the consensus will probably show up too late to affect our decision but hey, figured the situation would make for a wild ride anyway (or maybe I just feel like that bc it has been for me LOL).

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[elhopper1sm]

TW: Mentions of grooming

Everyone always talks about how Ian contributed to Mickey's character development but never vice versa. Like I truly believe had it not been for Mickey Ian may have accepted grooming or predatory relationships well into his twenties or beyond. Think about the show from Ian's perspective. We learn pretty early on he's the black sheep of the family. Comparisons being made to Monica the most hated member of the family and is closeted. Ian originally tends to hang out with or get with other older closeted men who've probably reinforced his their own internalized homophobia onto him. The Gallaghers are also social outcasts of the neighborhood so finding someone who could put up with his family antics and his own low self esteem. Ian was clinging to people who would show him love or appreciation even if it wasn't quality and he didn't really think he could have more. Then comes Mickey someone who is more destitute than him and of a lower social strata and the brother of his best friend. There are experiences of his life Mickey will understand and won't judge him for. Also Mickey adores Ian. He sees him as basically one of if not the best person ever. Mickey cares deeply about Ian and it's obvious. Even when he's trying to hide it. Maybe that's why in the earlier seasons he feels so quick to sort of mess with Mickey's feelings to see if he loves him it's confirmation that Mickey does love him and he needs that. Notice how after spending time with Mickey he isn't as likely to go to the people who are likely to hurt him. Mickey even keeps him from getting harmed making him feel like he deserves more than that. One of the reasons I believe Ian broke up with Mickey towards the end of season 5 is because he actually feels like he's not good enough for Mickey. Like he'll corrupt him or taint him. Which makes sense why he feels this way. One because when he was in a depressive state while making that decision. And two he was because he's constantly compared to Monica accused of corrupting Frank. Once he breaks up with Mickey he tries to join or listen in on the LGBTQ+ club at Lip's college and see if he'll fit in there. He's trying to find people who make him feel valuable and like he deserves more the way Mickey did. Even up to Season 10 he's still doubting whether or not it will work with Mickey but not because of who Mickey is but because of who he is and what's wrong with him. Which is also why I think Ian pressure Mickey to move to the West Side with him. I think in Ian's brain or own strange logic because Mickey gave him the courage to think he deserved more he thinks but getting him and Mickey into a nice apartment or better upgraded living situation that's his way of letting Mickey know he can and will and deserves to have better. Again a foolish decision to change the area where you and your partner live without asking them but I truly believe. It was because he thought it was his way of letting Mickey know he deserved better.

#shameless meta #shameless #gallavich meta #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich

[arumidden]

So I’m translating the menu for the new Valentine’s Day Cafe

and I got to Prussia’s meal.

As always, since I didn’t recognize the dish immediately, I threw the thing into Google. I got this:

Ok, so that big string of katakana translates to Würzfleisch. But wait…

DOES THAT SAY

DDR?!

Holy shit, they actually did some research and picked a recipe from East Germany!

(Which is way more research than they did for Russia, since they picked a dish that is called “Russian” but is actually a Japanese invention… All the Russians I asked thought グリボーグ is hilarious)

I know it’s from a pop-up cafe menu and therefore not canon to the show, but…

Prussia = East Germany confirmed?

Edit: I know Prussia calls Germany “West” sometimes, but I remember some of those occurrences being before WWII ended, which would mean they’re either anachronistic or referring to something else.

#hetalia #aph hetalia #hetalia axis powers #aph #hws #hetalia world stars #hetalia official art #aph prussia #gilbert beilschmidt #hws prussia #historical hetalia

[toomuchracket]

candlelight (d word matty x reader smut)

the 24th day of promptober, basically an excuse to write the long-awaited first time fic. it's over five thousand words long - reader, i am EXHAUSTED. i really hope you enjoy it <3

you had your suspicions that this might be true long before you even knew him, but now you can actually confirm it: matty healy is a fucking excellent boyfriend.

boyfriend. as in, your boyfriend. yours. it still hasn't sunk in yet.

regardless, as mentioned, he's very adept in the role. so adept, in fact, that listing the qualities he's displayed and things he did for you today would be akin to reading out the lyrics of a post-disney pop song. 

you'll do it anyway. matty drove into central london at rush hour on a friday to pick you up from work and drive you back to your flat, rather than let you get the train home and meet you there later, simply because he wanted to spend more time with you. during said drive home, he stopped at mcdonald's when you offhandedly mentioned you were hungry, then coaxed you into m&s to buy you a bottle of wine and some flowers, as a means of cheering you up after you said your day had been stressful.

said stressful day also led to right now, an act more hbo than disney, but still on the "excellent boyfriend matty" vibe. you're snuggled up on the sofa with your back against matty's chest, the west wing muted and all but forgotten on the tv. his lips are on your temple, his left arm is slung cosily over your waist, and his right hand is down your jeans; more specifically (and importantly), his fingers have slipped under the band of your panties, and are currently working diligently to get you off.

and they're successful - he's successful, cooing rhetorical questions like "that feel good, sweet girl?" and "you needed this, didn't you, darling? needed something to get all the tension out of that beautiful body of yours?". you'd answer if you could, blush at his compliments and pet names if you could, but your brain is so hazy from pleasure that all it can manage to make you do is tilt your head towards matty and smile tiredly in between moans.

he likes that, though; you get a beaming smile in return, and his free hand comes up to tenderly cup your jaw. it's quite incongruous with the way his other is finger-fucking you (there's really no alternative word for it), but you think it's just so matty, simultaneously a sweet little cupcake and the personification of sex itself.

a particularly skillful hooking of his fingers hits an area inside you that you weren't sure existed. eyes still locked on matty's, your jaw drops with a stuttered whimper, and his copies it, accompanied by a moan of his own. "god, you're so fucking responsive. i'm obsessed with it. obsessed with you, gorgeous."

you giggle, half from matty's words, half from the ecstatic delirium his fingers are inducing in you. matty smiles again, leaning down to kiss you; you kiss him back eagerly, mouth opening with a sigh as soon as your lips meet. your boyfriend lightly traces yours with his tongue, slipping it into your mouth as his fingers speed up - impossible, you'd have thought - in your cunt.

the familiar feeling begins to build in the pit of your stomach, pulling every muscle in your body into tension as it grows. every muscle except for those in your throat, you suppose - you whine and moan into matty's mouth, a symphony composed by and performed just for him, one he groans in harmony with as he feels you clench around his fingers. he doesn't stop moving them at all, though, he keeps thrusting and hooking and hitting that one spot and you feel so fucking good you think you might break apart. which is ironic, really, given how your imminent orgasm has tightened your muscles so much that you're shaking uncontrollably.

then again, something that both you and matty know all too well is that there's only so far you can tighten a guitar string before it just… snaps. another thing both you and matty know all too well? you're about to do the same.

he pulls back from the kiss just far enough that he can be understood when he talks. "i know you're close, darling. whenever you're ready, i want you to cum for me. you can do that for me, can't you, sweetheart?"

"mhmm," you somehow manage to moan out.

matty smiles. "good girl."

yeah, that'll do it. 

with a garbled cry, you cum, the build up of pleasure in your stomach shattering and careening through your veins. eyes closed,  you're vaguely aware of your limbs moving of their own accord, but the only thing you can truly feel are matty's hands on your jaw and slowly circling your clit through orgasm, respectively. somewhere below the heartbeat thumping loudly in your eardrums, you hear him moan soft praises. "that's it, that's my girl. shit, you look so beautiful when you cum, fucking love it. love making you feel good, s'my favourite, you're my favourite."

as the haze of pleasure leaves your brain somewhat, you blink back to reality and find matty looking at you adoringly. your cheeks grow warm under his gaze, and you smile shyly. "hi, baby."

"hi," matty blushes at the pet name - he always does, and you're obsessed with it. "was that good, sweetheart?"

"calling what you just did to me 'good' is such an understatement, it's almost offensive."

he laughs, sliding his hand out from your jeans and into his mouth. your jaw drops as he sucks your wetness from his own fingers, and practically hits the floor when he keeps speaking. "the same could be said for saying you taste 'nice', actually."

"jesus christ," you shake your head, leaning over to kiss your boyfriend. it's a soft kiss, but being able to taste yourself on his lips drives you a tiny bit insane - well, more than you already are when it comes to matty. "right - my turn to make you feel good."

matty sighs, stroking your hair. "baby, you need to stop thinking like that."

your brow furrows in genuine confusion. "like what?"

"like… that pleasure has to be something, i don't know, transactional? i know these stupid boys you've fucked in the past have probably made you think that was the done thing - i mean, god knows i used to think that," matty shudders, genuinely shudders at the memory, and you smile. "but we don't have to even the score, so to speak, every time we get together. you needed to feel good, and i wanted to make you feel good, and i did. you don't have to give me an orgasm just because i gave you one, sweetheart. you know what i mean?"

you do know what he means, and you genuinely appreciate the honesty and sweetness of the statement, but… you also just really, really want to make him cum. stubborn, obstinate little shit that your boyfriend is, though, you know he won't let you get him off right now, just to prove his point.

although, you wonder… does that extend to something that would get you both off at the same time?

matty raises an eyebrow when you ask him as much. "no offence, but do you have the energy to sixty-nine right now, babe?"

"no, i don't," you reply, moving to properly straddle his lap and clasp your hands behind his neck; matty's hands move to your waist almost automatically. "but that's actually not what i was referring to, baby."

his eyes widen. "oh. you want us to…?" matty clears his throat - he tries to keep his face composed, but you don't miss the way the corners of his pretty lips turn upwards in excitement. "sorry, sweetheart, let me start again: are you asking me to have sex with you for the first time in our relationship?"

"yes, matty," you don't even try to keep the grin from your face. "i'm asking you to have sex with me for the first time in our relationship. today. right now, actually, if you want."

"do you want, though?" matty asks, rubbing slow circles into your hips. "you aren't just asking me because you think i want to? i mean, i do, i really, really do, darling, but only if it's what you want."

you weave your hands into his hair. "can i tell you a secret?"

"of course, sweetheart."

smiling, you lean right in to whisper in matty's ear. "i've been getting off to the thought of you fucking me for months. and i respected your decision not to sleep with me until we were an official couple, but i don't think i can go any longer without knowing what you feel like inside me."

"fuck, sweetheart, me too," matty groans, resting his forehead on your shoulder. he kisses you, long and slow and deep and passionate, and murmurs against your lips. "alright. let's have sex. but first, i kind of want to see how you got off to the thought of us."

"oh, that's easy. the first time was like this," you begin grinding your hips down onto his, a flush of arousal passing over you as you feel matty get hard(er) underneath you. "on my pillow, after the first awards ceremony we both went to."

matty actually has to bury his face in his hands. "jesus fucking christ, woman," he inhales sharply as he looks back up, eyes jet black with desire. "i got off to the same thought that night, too. but i'd rather fuck you than my hand in demonstration, right now, sweetheart, if you wouldn't mind."

"i'd rather that too, baby," you kiss him. "show me another time, though, yeah?"

your boyfriend kisses you in return. "whatever my girl wants. and now," he hooks his hands under your bum and stands, smiling when you shriek at the sudden movement. "let me take you to bed."

you've never been so happy to live in a single-storey flat in your life - it takes less than a minute for matty to carry you to your bedroom and lay you down carefully on your bed. you lean up to kiss him, pouting when he merely pecks you and climbs off the mattress. "baby, what are you doing?"

matty pulls his lighter from his pocket and waves it at you. "this."

"arson?"

"no, silly girl," he rolls his eyes. "i'm setting the mood. might as well make use of the excessive amount of candles you've got in here, yeah?"

with that, he dots around the room, lighting the tealights you've placed on almost every suitable surface. he stops when he reaches the bedside table, looking wide-eyed at you. "this is one of your fancy space nk ones, isn't it?"

"yeah. diptyque. same scent as my perfume."

matty tentatively lifts the lid off and sniffs. "my favourite smell in the world," he grins, and you blush. "but this candle is brand new."

"it is."

"so…" matty chews his lip.

you raise a brow. "so?"

he looks at you almost nervously. "am i allowed to light it?"

"hmmm," you roll onto your side to face your boyfriend. "i mean, i was going to save it for a special occasion. but i guess this'll do."

you're teasing. matty knows this, and he raises his eyebrows dramatically. "oh, 'this'll do', will it, miss? you really do know how to make a man feel special."

you shrug. "i know, i'm the sweetest girl in the world," you sit up, laughing. "i'm kidding, baby. about me and the special occasion thing. go ahead. light it up."

matty does as you ask, then gently climbs on top of you and kisses your head. in the glow of the flickering flames around the room, he looks even more gorgeous than usual, those beautiful eyes warmer than you've ever seen them. "nah, you really are the sweetest girl in the world."

"only for you."

"my sweet girl," he kisses all over your face. "my sweet, beautiful girl. can i undress you, darling?"

you nod, shyly. "just to say, i would've worn nicer underwear if i knew this was going to happen. i mean, it's a nice set i've got on, because i thought i should make an effort for you coming over tonight, but you've seen it before, you know? should've bought something new, been all extra pretty for you. m'sor-"

"don't you dare say sorry, sweetheart. don't apologise to me, especially not about underwear, jesus christ," matty cuts off your nervous - because suddenly, you're actually a little bit nervous - babbling, stroking your cheek. "you'd be gorgeous in anything. and the fact i get to see you in your underwear at all is a privilege. and a turn-on. a massive, massive turn-on."

"really?"

"if it wasn't so crass, i would literally put your hand on my dick right now to feel how hard it is at the thought of you in lingerie."

you laugh. "when has being crass ever stopped you from doing anything?"

matty huffs out a laugh, and his eyes crinkle into that smile of his you absolutely love, the one that means he's truly, truly happy. "just don't want to be anything other than perfect for you right now, darling. this means a lot to me."

"same here," you comb through his curls with your fingers. "s'been a while since i've done this. i'm glad it's you i'm doing it with now."

"thank you for letting me, sweetheart," he kisses your nose. "we'll go at whatever pace you like, yeah? you call the shots."

you nod. "thank you. i'm happy for you to take my clothes off, now."

"alright, baby, let me just get my shirt off so you don't feel too exposed."

"can i do it?"

matty smiles. "of course."

he sits back on his knees, and you lean up to catch his lips in a kiss as your hands find the buttons on his flannel. it deepens with every one you undo; by the time you slide it down his shoulders, you're practically devouring each other. 

god. why were you ever nervous? the way he kisses you… of course he wants you, and wants you to feel good. matty's desire is undeniable, and so is his affection. you hope that comes across on your behalf too.

judging by matty's reaction - a whine of "fuck, babe" and an impatient tug at the hem of your top - it does. you smile into the kiss, before you pull away and raise your arms and let your boyfriend do what you know he's been secretly longing to do for ages.

the black fabric of your top hits the floor, and so does matty's jaw. his eyes trail up and down your torso, slowly taking in the way the dark blue lace looks against your soft skin; he looks at you for so long that you genuinely can't deal with it, busying yourself with moving to unfasten his jeans. 

matty catches your hands in his own before you properly can, though. "hey, sweetheart, look at me for a second, please."

you reluctantly do as asked, biting your lip and praying to any and all deities that it comes across as sexy instead of bashful. your boyfriend's eyes are soft when you meet them with your own, and he smiles that incredible smile again. "you, my girl, are fucking beautiful," he says, and you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he means every word. "like, i can't actually comprehend it. nor can i comprehend what the utter fuck a gorgeous young thing like you is doing with me, but i'd be an idiot if i didn't just shut up and enjoy it."

"matty healy, that might honestly be the most absurd thing you've ever said," you reply. "look at you, for fuck's sake - i am punching so far above my weight with you."

"good joke, babe."

"i'm serious!"

"you're delusional, sweetheart," matty giggles, ever so lightly kissing down your chest and stomach as he undoes your jeans. you wriggle around so he can slide them off, exposing your (pretty fucking wet) brazilian-style panties. "like fucking hell. you're perfect. but you're also delusional, if you think i'm not the one punching here."

"well, either way," you take matty's hand and cup it over your core so he can feel how wet you are. "you're the one turning me on."

your boyfriend's breath is shaky when he exhales, uttering an "oh fuck" through it. "you know, baby," he says, mouth centimetres from your own. "i've never been harder in my life than i am at this moment."

"oh?" you smirk, pride turning you bolder than you expected. "i think we should do something about that, then," you tap matty's shoulder so he moves back, then you crawl forward and finally properly undo his jeans. your whole back is open to matty, and you press a kiss to his hip tattoo and speak softly. "baby, this is the part where you take my bra off."

matty's hands are on your spine so quickly it's almost funny. "sit up, sweetheart."

you oblige, shuffling back into a sitting position and sliding your bra straps down your arms as matty kicks his jeans off. and that's it. there you are. both as half-naked and turned on as each other.

for a moment, all you do is stare at each other. you have no idea how long for - time is a foreign concept, as is everything else other than the man sitting in front of you, lean and beautiful and clearly aching with want. whether it's a trick of the candlelight, you're unsure, but there's barely any trace of brown left in matty's eyes; he's nothing short of desperate. desperate for you.

you don't think you're faring any better. your legs are so incapable of closing that they might as well be made of magnets, and there's a burning in your cheeks that you know fine well isn't because of the open flames in the room. it's undeniable - you have never wanted someone so much in your life.

surprisingly, it's you who makes the first move, lying down and fanning your hair out on the pillow. once you're comfy, angled right and legs spread, you beckon matty over with a manicured finger. gaze never breaking from yours, he crawls towards you, lithe and hard and hot as fuck, placing his hands on either side of your head and hovering over you.

a moment of nothing, and then you're kissing. unlike your other kisses with matty, this one is almost completely devoid of sweetness; it's almost feral, animalistic, fuelled on nothing more than sheer fucking lust. his hips roll into yours, a topsy-turvy version of the way you grinded on him earlier, and the association with your dirty dreams about your boyfriend pushes you over the edge of desire.

"please, baby, i need you inside me," you whimper into matty. "there are condoms in the table to your left. just please, please fuck me now. need you, please, matty."

it's truly a sign of how turned on matty is that he doesn't take the piss out of you for having condoms on hand. instead, he moves his lips to your neck and flails blindly in your bedside drawer (thankfully, on the opposite side of the bed from your fancy candle) until he finds one. 

as he shifts to take his boxers off, matty's lips briefly return to yours, then he speaks. "do you want to put it on me, darling?"

"no, thank you," you shake your head, grinning. "i like watching you touch yourself too much for that."

a breathy laugh, then matty tears the packet open with his teeth - a wave of arousal crashes against your underwear. "eyes on me, then, my girl."

like you'd ever want to look at anything else.

you do as requested, though, teeth sinking into your bottom lip of their own accord as you watch your boyfriend roll the condom onto his dick. once he's satisfied with it, matty leans back over you, smiling, and kisses your nose. "how you feeling, sweetheart?"

"perfect."

"fuck yeah you are," matty kisses you, a short, sweet, affectionate brush of the lips. "would you like to keep going?"

you nod enthusiastically. "please."

"like this? or do you want us to switch position?"

"this works for me," you caress your boyfriend's sharp jaw. "means i get to see that pretty face of yours."

"oh, she's cute," matty giggles. "alright, baby. can i fuck you now, finally, as we've both so badly wanted for so long?"

"yes," comes your breathy reply. you lift your hips, and then your legs, so matty can slide your last remaining clothing off, and that's it. the two of you, bare.

matty shuffles forward, properly leaning over you. despite the position and predicament you're in, his eyes are soft  and so is his voice. "remember, sweetheart, you're in charge - anything you say goes. gonna slip inside you now, if that's alright?"

"please."

your boyfriend slides his dick up and down your folds to gather your (plentiful) wetness, smiling at the moan you let out when he brushes your clit. "whatever my sweet girl wants."

with that… he slowly, so slowly that you're amazed by his restraint, pushes into you. holy fuck. your eyes lock onto matty's, both your mouths widening in pleasure the deeper he gets; when he bottoms out completely, yours widens in the opposite direction, into an excited smile.

matty smiles too, blinking slowly to compose himself. "shit, baby," he breathes, face so close to yours that your noses brush against each other. "you're so fucking tight."

"i think you're just big," you reply, just as breathily. "feel so fucking good inside me, matty. better than i dreamed."

"yeah? same here," matty kisses you, far more sweetly than you would necessarily have expected from a man quite literally balls deep inside your cunt. you moan when his lips touch yours, clenching involuntarily; your boyfriend all but whimpers at the sensation. "christ. can i move yet, sweetheart? might explode if you keep squeezing me like that. but i'll endure it as long as you need me to. fuck, i'd do anything for you."

his babbling makes your ego skyrocket - all you've done is let matty put his dick inside you and clench around it once, and this is his reaction? damn. you almost worry how he'll respond to actually fucking you.

but you can't fucking wait to find out. 

"yeah, baby," you run your thumb over matty's lips, rosy-red and kiss-bitten. ""you can fuck me now."

he sucks your thumb into his mouth and winks, making you giggle. "thank you, sweet girl. hold on to me, yeah? wanna be close to you."

biting back the urge to be sarcastic and point out to matty that he's literally inside you, you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. matty smiles. "good girl."

your eyelids flutter, partially from the praise, but mostly from the way matty slowly slides almost completely out of you and then thrusts - still gently, but with a little bit of force behind it - back in. "oh. do that again, please."

"was planning on it, sweet girl," matty grins; his smile drops into an almost disbelieving expression as he thrusts into you again. "christ, you feel so fucking good around me. could stay in you forever."

you moan, throwing your head back - matty takes the opportunity to attach his lips to your neck and trail kisses down to your chest. when he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, you whine. "you can go a little bit faster, baby. please, please go faster, fuck me properly."

"fuck," matty moves his head so he can look you in the eye. "you're sure? i can stay at this pace for a bit, i don't mind."

he's so sweet your heart aches. but you really don't want him to be sweet, not right now. 

you shake your head. "faster, harder, please. i can take it. can take you. don't you want to see me take you like a good girl?"

"shit, sweetheart," matty groans, burying his head in your neck. "alright. hold tight."

his hips all but slam into yours, over and over and over and over; the sound, a mixture of your overwhelming arousal and skin meeting skin, is obscene. it's the best thing you've ever heard.

well, that's not strictly true - the way your boyfriend whimpers your name into your lips, your neck, your chest is pretty fucking sexy too. matty can't seem to pick a place on your body to settle his mouth on, as if the pleasure shocks him into moving it every time he slips back inside your cunt. you know how he feels; another jolt of something electric fires through your nervous system every time he does, clenching your muscles, triggering your moans, wiping all thoughts out of your mind other than him.

something else sparks in you, too: realisation. for the first time in your life, you finally truly understand what everyone's on about. 

this is sex.

deliriously, you giggle. matty looks at you, tenderness obvious in his eyes despite the low light. "you good, my darling?"

"m'really happy," you lean up to kiss him, and he eagerly reciprocates. a particularly good thrust has you crying into him. "fuck, don't stop doing that."

"yeah?" matty breathes. "you like it when i fuck you like that, sweetheart?"

"fucking love it," you whine, hand sliding into matty's hair to keep him close. "don't stop, please. wanna cum."

"mmm, i want that too," your boyfriend hums. "can i touch you, baby? get you off again?"

an enthusiastic nod. "you can do whatever you want."

matty laughs, bringing his hand to rest on your cheek. "god, you're so fucking cute. and so fucking pretty for me when i fuck you."

you preen at the praise, angling your head to the side to take matty's thumb in your mouth. his breath catches when you release it with a pop, and he doesn't quite regain it until after you speak. "just to help you get me off, yeah?"

a beat passes, and something changes in matty's eyes. he smirks, and thrusts impossibly deeper inside you; while you gasp at that, he leans back slightly to reach down and rub little circles into your clit with his thumb. "like this?"

you can't even speak, the extra layer of stimulation shutting down your brain even more than it already was; all you can do is moan, whine, whimper out your boyfriend's name as he fucks you better than anyone else ever has before. every movement of his hips and hand sends shockwaves through your body, shockwaves beginning to gather in the pit of your stomach in a very familiar way.

and you don't even need to tell him - not that you could if you wanted to, but as soon as you open your mouth to try he cuts you off. "you're close, aren't you, darling?"

matty smiles when you nod, kissing your forehead tenderly. "i want you to cum for me whenever you feel like it, sweet girl. don't hold back. s'all about you."

"but…" you regain your voice just enough to protest.

"trust me, babe, i'll go whenever you do."

"you sure?" you choke out through the pleasure haze.

he buries his head in your neck. "been forcing myself not to cum since i first got inside you, honestly. feel fucking perfect, my perfect girl."

oh.

"matty, baby," you whimper. "keep talking."

you feel him smile against your skin before he kisses up your neck, over your jaw, onto your lips. "oh, you like it when i talk to you? dirty girl. but so good for me, my good girl, all - fucking - mine."

the final three words are punctuated by the hardest thrusts yet; matty's hips slam into yours so strongly that you wouldn't be surprised if you can't walk later. but it feels fucking delicious - he feels fucking delicious - and you feel the tension in your stomach tighten up a notch every time he slides back into you. your limbs and lips quiver against your boyfriend, and your eyes roll back into your head.

your orgasm is so close you can practically taste it. it's hard to keep your eyes open, but you force yourself to lock them on matty's. he looks absolutely fucked, jaw hanging slack and eyes heavy, but you think he's never looked better; you're not sure if the same can be said for you, but you know you must look equally as fucked as him, if not more, all panting breaths and shaky jaw.

matty thinks you're beautiful, though. he tells you as much, accompanies it with a "need you to cum for me, my girl", and that's it. that's all you need.

for the second time in… well, you have no fucking idea how long, but it's irrelevant - the build-up of pleasure in your taut, shaking body shatters, skittering through your skin and veins and nerves and lungs and voice. nails digging into matty's hair and back, you cum with a guttural wail of his name, clinging to him with your head buried in his neck like he's the only thing tethering you to reality; he might as well be, given that you've only managed to think about him for the duration of your sex session.

"fuck, sweetheart, i'm cumming," matty groans. he leans back, detaching the two of you, holding onto your waist for leverage as he thrusts sloppily into you; as he cums, he groans your name, those beautiful eyes clamping shut in the throes of ecstasy.

they blink open slowly once matty pulls out of you, gaze trailing up your heaving body to meet your own. once again, he leans down to kiss you, resting his forearms either side of your head. it's a sweet kiss, tender, at total odds with what the two of you just did. but it's perfect. he's perfect. you're perfect together.

"thank you," you smile sleepily, stroking your boyfriend's sweaty face. "that was… wow."

"understatement of the fucking century," he smiles in return. "sweetheart, that was without question the best sex i have ever had."

you snort. "shut up. i mean, same, but… come on, matty."

"i'm not kidding, darling. really," matty kisses your nose. "feels like you were made for me. in general, to be honest."

well, if you're being honest… "i like being yours, baby."

"not as much as i like being yours, i bet."

you sigh. "matty, i really can't debate with you right now. you tired me out too much."

"yeah?" he's smug. of course he is. but then he softens, the more vulnerable side of him you really like coming out a bit. "was it good enough for you, darling? it wasn't too much, or lacking anything?"

a kiss shuts him up, and a soft smile reassures him. "it was perfect. really. can't wait to do it again."

another kiss. "well, let me clean you up a bit first, sweetheart. actually, d'you want a cig, too? i'll run through and get them."

"ooh, yeah," you shuffle onto your elbows, watching with interest as your boyfriend climbs off the bed and removes the condom. "actually, can you bring my phone too? need to put a reminder in it to book a gp appointment."

matty looks up at you in a state of total confusion; given that he's currently tying the condom off, it's pretty fucking funny. "yeah. you ok, sweetheart?"

"mhmm. just seeing the condom made me think," you reply, stretching. "i want to go on the pill."

"jesus fucking- whatever you want, darling."

#mads muses #mads does writing #promptober75 #d word matty #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #matty healy smut

[vickyvicarious]

If Jonathan has been suffering from brain fever which has apparently symptoms of delirious ramblings and no memory of who you are and where you live, does that mean that he had lost his memory even BEFORE he arrived at the station?

Because Sister Agatha said that he was asking for a ticket at Klausenburg station. But he never said a ticket to WHERE.

They assumed he was English from his manners and language, but he never said he wanted to go to England. "the guard was told by the station-master there that he rushed into the station shouting for a ticket for home." Home to where? Where is home? He evidently couldn't tell, he could just say home.

So did he climb down the walls and run across the Carpathians while actively losing his memory?

Ooh, this is a really interesting possibility. I have always kind of assumed that he didn't experience the worst of his brain fever until he broke down/was in the hospital. Then, a combination of his memories/attempts to talk being disregarded as delirium, and his body breaking down, and PTSD (and also maybe all those religious symbols burning the vampire infection out of his blood) - those were what led him to forget, to dismiss whatever he did remember as just delusions. He knew that he couldn't afford to linger on the memories for multiple reasons (they caused him to panic, they caused others to call him crazy) and just blocked it all out together with actually forgetting. He chose not to seek further because whatever the truth, he didn't want to know. He didn't want to deal with confirming that he had actually gone mad, or opening up the possibility that he hadn't. So he didn't read his diary. He was out and he wanted to move on.

But he already felt like his brain was on fire before he left. What if he was losing memories/coherence as he fled? What if everything else started to disappear, what if he only barely managed to hold on to a couple of concepts that were of the utmost importance to him? So he knows he has to get home. He knows he can't stop until he does so. He knows the way to go roughly (knows to travel West, knows to take a train) but can't explain it, can only wildly call for someone to send him home without being able to give any details on where that is. He knows the urgency but can no longer remember why, just that he is terrified and he cannot stop. (Until he has no choice, until he's forced to do so. And then, once he does stop, he loses himself entirely. The linchpin has been removed; without being able to go home he no longer can move at all, can't say who he wants to find there or where it is. With the urgency forced away he loses even his sense of time. At least for a while.)

And the one other thing he knows, the thing he's spent months doing. He knows he must protect his diary. He travels with it in his coat pocket, where he can reach in and feel it at any moment and reassure himself it's still there. When he's put in the hospital he never tells anyone about it. Maybe he asks Sister Agatha if it is still there, or maybe he can't share even that much, maybe he only asks her to keep his clothes in the room with him where he can see them. He protects it even from himself, he allows no one to read it or to touch it or to ask him about it. He doesn't even remember exactly why anymore, he just knows whatever is inside is terrifying and deadly important. He knows it is secret. He knows it has to be kept safe at all costs. And while he can't bear even to face it himself, even after he has started to recover, he absolutely cannot get rid of it either. And so he gives it to the one person he knows with absolute certainty will never break his trust, who can be allowed to open it at any time because she can be trusted with all of himself and everything he knows or once knew, who will never make him face it again unless he absolutely needs to do so. He gives it to the one person he knows will protect it without question. He gives it to Mina.

#dracula daily #dracula daily spoilers #jonathan harker #jonmina #YES i am deeply emotional over jonathan giving mina the journal again. i never STOP #but honestly this idea is SO painful and i love it #i don't think it contradicts jonathan's later reasoning either necessarily. they could work together #anonymous #replies

[alpaca-clouds]

Let me talk Sekhmet

Okay, I wanted to talk about Elohim today, but fuck it, no, I am going to talk Sekhmet, because Castlevania Nocturne is out and if you know, you know!

And I wanted to talk Egyptian gods sooner or later either way. Also, if you have not read my other mythology thingies: I talk about mythology a lot and about comparative mythology. Which is where we go and learn about history and specifically history of religion by finding motifs and their spread in myths.

So let me talk Sekhmet.

 𓌂𓐍𓏏𓁐 Sekhmet is a solar deity. And if you are confused about the female sun goddess: Yeah, there are actually a ton of female sun gods. (Again: Apollo and Artemis are kinda the exception for when there is a male/female sun/moon pairing. Usually in those cases there is a female sun and a male moon.)

She is the daughter of the (male) sun god Ra. And while he is associated with the good things coming from the sun (like it making plants grow and such), she is very much the Wrath of Ra. The scorching sun, that kills you when you keep in it too long. As the Eye of Ra she is a war goddess, who brings distruction and drinks the blood of men.

Now, once again it should be said: The Egyptian culture lasted for 3000 years. So Sekhmet and her meaning have shifted. At times Hathor was an aspect of Sekhmet, at times Hathor was her sister or her daughter. The same goes with Bastet, who usually gets depicted as an aspect of Sekhmet - but more often is her sister.

The defining myth of Sekhmet though comes from the myths that a long time ago the gods lived among the humans. But there was a conflict between gods and the humans (or in some versions between Egypt and other gods). So Sekhmet as the goddess of war went out to fight. But she got so cruel that after a while she did not care anymore about friend or foe and just lay waste to all the lands. She would not even listen to her father when he called her back.

So the other gods divised a plan: They filled a lake with beer and colored it red, so that Sekhmet thought it was blood. She went to the lake and drank it all, so she became drunk and peaceful. In some versions of the myths she then returned to her father Ra, in other versions she left Egypt with a groll against the other gods.

The common believe is that she as a goddess has probably the same Indo-European roots as Kali in Hindu mythology. Though there are other sources that attribute a West African origin to her. It should be said, though, that both can be right at the same time. (At some point I gotta talk about the entire Black Athena thing, don't I?)

Personally, reading through the oldest stuff we have about Japanese mythology, I find it interesting that some really old stuff about Amaterasu also mirrors her.

But yeah. Interesting goddess. And I am kinda psyched that this confirms that for the Castlevania canon the old gods ARE REAL. Fuck yeah!

#castlevania #castlevania nocturne #castlevania nocturne spoilers #sekhmet #egyptian mythology #egyptian gods #history #ancient history

[esyra]

These days, I have long debated what to write regarding Palestine-Israel, and questioned why I should write anything at all. The idea that celebrities and the loudest chronically online people you've ever met, blessed in their ignorance and indifferent to livehoods different than theirs, feel the need to opinate on social and geopolitical issues is absolutely insane. Most of the time, they do more harm than good—spreading misinformation like wildfire. Such opinions are what convinced me to ultimately talk about it.

Rest assured I'm not particularly qualified to talk about any of this, then again no one seems (or tries) to be. This is not a statement, simply questions about selected nuance. Full disclosure: I am of Palestinian descent. And I tried my hardest to be all-encompassing and empathetic; if I fail at any moment, my sincerest apologies.

All around social media I've seen only two kinds of posts regarding Palestine and Israel; they're either completely favorable to Israel and dehumanize Palestine or they treat Palestines as a footnote, in which it's made to assure its author doesn't endorse murder but also to point out that Palestine "deserve what's coming." There's a certain nuance required to support Palestine that's not asked when supporting Israel.

I've seen Jamie Lee Curtis reposting a picture of Palestinian children watching Israelis air strikes as if they were of Israeli children. There's no doubt it was a malicious-intended post considering she credited the photographer while deleting the original caption which explicitly explained who the ones pictured were. After being severely corrected in the comments, she simply deleted and made no mention of it. Guess children don't matter if they're Palestinian. I've seen way too many celebrities responding to the conflict with worries about how they might be affected by it, as self-centered and selfish as you can imagine.

I've seen a journalist claim that 40 Israeli babies were beheaded and multiple newspapers (many of them British, because what else can you expect from them?) and public figures reposting as a fact, only for the same journalist to later claim she actually "never said that" (she absolutely did). Also the IDF explaining they have no information confirming the allegations that 'Hamas beheaded babies'. I've seen people using statements from Sabra and Shatila massacre survivors and trying to rewrite Palestine, which were the victims of said crime, as the perpetrators. I've seen people using videos of Russian attacks as Palestinian ones. I've seen a British journalist fabricating a harmful statement from a Palestinian Ambassador to help dehumanize Palestine, and being proud of such. I've seen BBC using the nuances of language to their liking, reporting how Israelis were 'killed' while Palestinians 'died'. Always heard journalists avoid adjectives in favor of being unbiased. Again, guess that's unimportant when it comes to Palestine. Most of all, I've seen people equate supporting Palestine to anti-semitism.

If that belief steams that Palestine and Hamas are one-and-the-same, and the latter is a anti-semitism organization, then that's another concern I'd like to add the recently appraised 'nuance'.

Hamas first appeared during the first intifada, a Palestinian uprising against Israeli occupation of the West Bank, Gaza, and East Jerusalem. The signing of the Oslo Accords in 1993 marked the end of the uprising—an agreement between Israel and Palestine meant to lay the groundwork for the formation of a Palestinian state alongside Israel. Instead, it has erased Palestine's recognition as a State. In its history, Hamas have equate the liberation of Palestinians with the destruction of Israel, likely the reason they're a highly divisive organization that has often been at oddens with more mainstream Palestinian politicians. However, Hamas backtracked on its aims in a 2017 proclamation, making it clear that what it wants is to end a “racist, anti-human and colonial Zionist project.” In its 16th topic, they state "Hamas affirms that its conflict is with the Zionist project not with the Jews because of their religion. Hamas does not wage a struggle against the Jews because they are Jewish but wages a struggle against the Zionists who occupy Palestine."

The description of the Israeli occupation as fascist most likely comes from the similarities of Palestine to an "open air prison". They have no control of their own borders (IDF controls who and what enters or leaves) and are deemed stateless. "In defiance of international law, Israel considers all Palestinians inhabitants of the occupied Palestinian territory as non-citizens and foreign residents." Meaning if they leave their territory, they won't be allowed back in. Their rights in the Arab World are uncertain, particularly in Lebanon and Egypt where they are denied rights to secure residency, employment, property, communal interaction and family unification. Procedures to allow non-residents to apply for naturalisation in Lebanon, Egypt and Saudi Arabia do not apply to stateless Palestinians. So while those asking for Palestinians to be evacuated for their safety certainly have noble intentions, I ask of you: where they will go? Can you imagine walking away from home knowing you're heading into nothing? What's the difference between living in the rumbles of their homes and being homeless in another country?

The ones who decide to stay (and the ones unable to leave) are likely not making it for much longer. According to the United Nations, roughly 6,400 Palestinians and 300 Israelis have been killed in the ongoing conflict since 2008, not counting the recent fatalities. Is it truly a war if one side is so overpowering in its resources and retaliations? I feel the need to point out these stats to question why the notion that "violence is never the answer" is only used now. When it has been the only response until now.

Then again, Hamas remains a polarizing force in Palestinian society. They're an organization that's slaughtering families and less than a third of Palestinians think the group deserves to represent them. There has not been an opportunity, however, for elections to change their representatives. Palestinians living in Gaza must endure an unstable political reality with an unrepresentative government implementing repressive policies against LGBTQ people and abusive policies against detainees. Israel's Prime Minister Netanyahu purposefully propped up Hamas and there has been speculation that Iran has supported them. I've seen many post as if it's a fact, so I'd like to reinforce that it's speculation. In essence, Hamas is a terrorist group with questionable history and even more questionable allies. None of which has the Palestine's best interests at heart.

This has been overly long, and I still haven't touched on all topics I wished to address. Some I probably couldn't express properly since it's such a complex geopolitical issue. Then again, no one seems to try while all seem very comfortable in being as biased as they wish to be. So I thought I add my compassionate two cents in favor of Palestine and all the years of oppresion they've endured. I still hope you'll read this to the end, and extended to Palestine the same sympathetic hand you've rightfully extended to Israeli citizens.

My heart aches for the innocent people murdered, Palestinian and Israeli. Settlers aren’t innocent, but people who were born there didn't really choose to be one. Jewish people following matters of faith don't deserve to die. No one has (or should have) the right to take someone's life away. People at the Gaza Strip that are either just trying to survive or attempting to protect their homes also don't deserve to die, as flawed as their logic and actions might be, and many are missing that nuance. The denial of food, water, and medical aid, violates the Geneva convention. And it's a kind of retaliation that Palestine in its entirety will never be able to match.

Currently, the Israeli government is preparing a ground invasion of Gaza. An anonymous Israeli official said they would turn Gaza into “a city of tents.” A parliamentarian said that Israel should not concern itself with the safety of any Gazans who “chose” to stay in the Gaza Strip, as if every crossing hasn't been blocked.

Soon, the 'war' will end. And when it does, I can assure you Palestine won't be the last one standing. They've never had a real chance. I'd like to remember everyone that, despite Netanyahu's claims that they are "human animals", Palestinians are human beings. People. All of which deserve to live, deserve compassion and deserve protection. They also deserve to be remembered.

#palestine #israel #hamas

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

and we don't notice any time pass

Summary: another 2am meeting between R and Wanda where they talk for hours and lose track of time, catching up on everything that's happened in the thirteen years they were apart

Word Count: 2004 Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader Warnings: talking about Sokovia being blown up and dead parents. very briefly proofread Part 3 of 'Half of My Hometown' series masterlist <- previous part | next part ->

A/N: all ‘Sokovian’ phrases are just Google translated Serbian, translations will be in brackets after.

»»————-　★　————-««

“You're back,” Wanda beams, spotting you as soon as you round the corner. She's standing outside the gym; from her appearance, it seems she hasn't gone in yet, but her back is to the door and her attention is focused solely on you.

An odd feeling of relief washes over you, and it's only then that you realise how tense you had been until now, having spent your whole evening wondering if your 2 am meetings with Wanda would become a routine. Your stomach flips at the confirmation that, yes, she has come around again during your work hours, and she seems excited to see you. It's impossible not to mimic her smile.

“I am back,” you say at last, now standing in front of her, “though this is my job route, so I don't have much choice.”

Wanda's face falls at your words, and you suddenly wish you could backtrack and say something better. “Oh, right, of course,” Wanda mutters before you have a chance to fix your mistake, and now you're at a loss on what to say.

“You're back though!” is what you settle on, forced cheeriness added in an attempt to lift the atmosphere once more. It seems to work, because Wanda smiles again and nods.

“I am, I'd just… I'd rather come here than sleep at the moment.”

You nod in understanding, before Wanda asks, “how long are you working?”

“Next guard takes over at 7.”

“Do you have to walk around the whole building?”

“Just the West side, there are a couple others guarding the East side and the perimeter outside,” you answer, then grin, “why? are you trying to form a plan of attack or something?”

Wanda blushes at the accusation, stammering on her words as she rushes to defend herself. “No! I'm not, I promise! I, just- can I come around with you?”

You nod earnestly before you answer; seeing the hesitation in her eyes, you want to confirm she can before you make a joke of it. But when she smiles and shuffles closer to your side, you're in the clear. “So you just want to be a guard then, not just get past them, I see.”

She makes the mistake of rolling her eyes, which only inspires you to double down as the two of you start to walk away from the gym. 

“No, it's okay, it's okay, you don't have to be embarrassed about it. I know you did always look up to me as your elder when we were younger, these things don't change.”

“You're four months older, that doesn't earn you elder respect” she scoffs, before muttering “само те стари,” quietly under her breath, but you catch the insult in your mother tongue all the same. (It just makes you old.)

“деца ових дана, без поштовања.” (Kids these days, no respect.)

She looks up to you suddenly, with a raised eyebrow and open mouth.

“You think I would forget my own language?” you tease, causing her mouth to purse until it's practically a straight line and her brows to furrow in thought. “I was thirteen when I left, not three, I'm not going to forget it that easily.”

“I didn't think you'd have much opportunity to practise. Your aunt only spoke a little, yes?”

A strange warmth fills your chest at the information Wanda remembers; half of your lives have passed with the two of you separated, but she still remembers your main concern from when you left.

You nod. “She learnt a bit more when she took me in, just to help communicate. Do you remember what my English was like?”

“Yes,” Wanda laughs, “I always tried to teach you, you were awful.”

You laugh too at the memory, “I've come a long way since, but she definitely couldn't rely on me understanding English at the start.”

“I always wanted to go back,” you continue quietly, “I keep all my settings in Sokovian so I don't forget it.”

“Back home always felt weird without you.”

“You know, when I first moved here, my aunt would put the Sokovian news channels on for me. It was the only thing I'd watch and pay attention to, trying to see if you and- you and Pietro ever appeared; then I'd know you were safe.”

Wanda stalls at your confession; even with your head bowed, you feel her eyes turn to you, scanning your face quickly before she looks away, back to fiddling with her hands.

“Did you ever see us?” she says quietly. You shake your head. “What was it like? moving away?”

You shakily exhale, so Wanda gives you time to properly formulate your answer. “It was tough,” is what you finally say. “Obviously my aunt took me after my parents…”

“Yeah.”

“She took me back straight after burying them, so I couldn't visit or anything. I didn't have them, I didn't have you, and I barely knew my aunt then. I was somewhere completely new and it felt like it was just me.”

“It's a big adjustment,” Wanda says, and you know she's talking first-hand. For you, the move was 13 years ago, you've adjusted, moved on, and mostly forgotten how tricky it was. But for Wanda, it's only been a month since she left her home country behind. You nod again in understanding and start to walk a little bit closer to your old friend.

“They have different priorities here, right?”

“Yes! There's so much just… just…”

“Everything?”

“Yeah,” she sighs, dropping her hands from mid air to her sides now her point is made.

You laugh, remembering your own reaction to the culture change. “Have the others taken you to Target yet?”

Wanda frowns and shakes her head, “I don't know what that is. Oh, but they took me to IKEA!”

“Bit different to the Sokovian street markets, huh?”

“I've never seen anything so big, and so much stuff all in one place?”

“It still feels massive to me, even now. Oh but you should have seen the old SHIELD headquarters! This place doesn't even come close, it was gigantic! Put all those ammunition facilities back home to shame.”

“You worked for SHIELD?”

“Mhm, then I moved here when it was destroyed.”

“What happened to it?”

“Turns out HYDRA had been running it. Black Widow and Captain America, and, uh, your new teammate? The Falcon? They dropped a helicarrier on the HQ and made all the misdeeds public. It's a bit hard for any organisation to come back from that.”

Wanda is quiet, but she doesn't take her eyes off of you, so eventually you turn and smile at her focused expression, “What is it?” you prompt.

“Nothing! I just didn't think you'd move over here and start working for the American government, as a spy . Pietro and I, we used to imagine what you were doing after you left; I thought you would be a librarian or something, something calm away from the war. Pietro said you would be a teacher. He said you would want to help people.”

“Then I hate to break it to you, Wands, but Pietro knew me better,” you laugh, “I wanted to help people at SHIELD, go back to Sokovia and rebuild it to what they told us it was like before the war. They even paid for me to get a diplomacy degree if I trained at the Academy at the same time, so it seemed like a no brainer.”

“‘Course, I didn't realise it was my co-workers dropping the bombs and keeping the war going. They kept that hidden from me,” you add quietly. SHIELD had been the best option for you, and really the only opportunity you had to pursue the path you wanted, but that didn't make up for the shame you had felt when all the information had been revealed. Admitting it to Wanda especially, who'd held anger against the Americans and their weapons since you were children, causes the embarrassment and guilt to resurface.

She doesn't yell at you though, as you had expected, or berate you for betraying your roots. She just nods, sighs, and pauses just as she's about to speak. You wait for her to say what she has to say.

“I guess they got us both.” You raise an eyebrow in her direction, and she continues to explain, “HYDRA… they didn’t hide behind SHIELD in Sokovia, they approached us directly, promised we could help Sokovia if we joined them and volunteered for experiments. It seemed like the most promising way to make change, so Pietro and I; we signed up, they experimented on us. Then, well… you know what HYDRA are actually like. So now I’m here, and I have this-” she lifts her hand up and a soft red glow emanates from her palm, dancing around her fingertips. “We all wanted what’s best for Sokovia, right? Didn’t turn out so well though.”

“No, not quite,” you mumble. Your gaze doesn’t stray from Wanda’s downcast face, but your mind is practically fighting a war of its own on what your next action should be; as much as you want to comfort her, after 13 years apart the action no longer feels so instinctive. Do you hug her? Offer a shoulder to cry on? A pat on the back? You just don’t know anymore. 

You’re about to risk it, raising an arm and hovering it just over her shoulder – that way, you can offer some comfort and pull her closer if she accepts it – when another voice calls your name. You startle and drop your arm back to your side, then look up to see your co-worker, the one assigned to the shift after yours, approaching with a smile. Wanda’s head jolts up too, looking between the two of you and taking a step to the side as he gets nearer; she pulls her sleeves over her hands before fidgeting with her rings – a nervous action that hasn’t changed in all the time you’ve known her. Once again, you find your gaze lingering on her rings, smiling slightly to yourself when her fingers instantly move to twist one particular ring – it had always been her favourite; even in the years where you wore it on your own hand, she had always reached for it when stressed, pulling your hand into her lap just to twist at the ring. The day before you left, when she’d repeated the action, you’d taken it off and slidden it onto her thumb yourself, as a keepsake to remember you by. It’s on her pinkie now, her fingers grown from the size they had been at thirteen, but your heart tugs to know she still has it.

Approaching footsteps pull you out of your thoughts again, and you quickly check your watch, your eyes widening when it reads 7am, signalling the end of your shift. You’re aware you were talking with Wanda for a while, but 5 hours? When you look back over to the woman, you start to notice the signs of exhaustion on her face and in her posture, striking you with guilt for unintentionally keeping her awake this long.

After exchanging some words with your replacement and reporting on the (lack of) events in the night, you pull Wanda aside with a smile, just to practically order her off to bed to catch up on her sleep.

She doesn’t argue, instead nodding tiredly and smiling back at you, “Will I see you tomorrow though? Same place, same time?”

“I'll be there,” you promise, watching her disappear before you even think of heading off to your own room. There's a giddy feeling in your chest and, for once, you don't overthink the interaction.

You'd missed the genuine conversations, the ones that made you smile until your cheeks hurt. There had been the occasional one at SHIELD, but they were constant with Wanda – back in Sokovia and, it seems, in the present day too. You go to bed smiling, already looking forward to the next 2 am.

next part ->

»»————-　★　————-««

General Taglist: @canvascoloredin @fxckmiup @wizardofstories

Series Taglist: @holiday-house-of-m @emiliaisdead @wonderingnerd @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @chasethemoon

A/N: thanks for everyone who has supported this and left nice comments so far! Hope you enjoyed this part :)

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fluff #marvel #mcu #ikan writes #ikan homh

[ilovecoelacanths]

It’s time for some facts about coelacanths!

I said I’d do this a while ago and I forgot so I’m doing it now because coelacanths are the best and more people should know how cool they are! I did not mean for this post to turn out so long but I promise the facts are very good (how could they not be when coelacanths are so cool)

There are two living species of coelacanth, Latimeria chalumnae, the West Indian Ocean coelacanth, and Latimeria menadoensis, the Indonesian coelacanth.

This is a West Indian Ocean coelacanth, they’re dark blue and each one has a unique pattern of white spots:

And this is an Indonesian coelacanth:

Indonesian coelacanths are noticeably different from West Indian Ocean coelacanths due to their background colouration being more of a greyish brown rather than blue. Their spots also appear more gold due to light reflecting off them :)

Coelacanths are old! The oldest coelacanth fossils date to more than 400 million years ago, and they were thought to have gone extinct about 66 million years ago, until 1938 when one was accidentally caught off the coast of South Africa and found by Marjorie Courtenay-Latimer.

Latimer contacted her friend, the ichthyologist J. L. B. Smith, who confirmed the fish was a coelacanth! Smith was given the honor of naming the fish, and he named it Latimeria after Marjorie Courtenay-Latimer. (Shown below with the coelacanth she found)

After their discovery, people mistakenly described them as the 'missing link' thanks to their leg-like fins, and this myth persisted thanks to the interesting way coelacanths swim, which appears almost like crawling.

Even today they are sometimes called 'living fossils' because of how little they have changed over millions of years. This label is not technically accurate since they are still evolving, but they do have one of the slowest evolving genomes in the animal kingdom, probably because they're already very well adapted to their environment and they don't have a lot of selection pressures affecting them.

Coelacanths can be more than six feet (up to two meters) long, weigh up to 200 pounds, and are estimated to be able to live up to 100 years! They are covered in hard, armor-like rough scales that are themselves covered in tiny spikes called denticles, which help protect coelacanths from rocks and other fish that might want to hurt them.

They also give birth to live young in litters of 10-25 pups and new research suggests they can be pregnant for as long as 5 years! This would mean that they beat out the frilled shark as the record holder for the longest gestation period by more than a year!

(Unfortunately this means that the birth rate for coelacanths is very low, which doesn't help their small populations. The West Indian Ocean coelacanth is critically endangered, and the Indonesian coelacanth is classified as threatened :( )

Coelacanths are what’s called a lobe-finned fish! This means that their fins look more like stumpy appendages than skin that's been stretched over flexible spines. Their closest relatives are lungfish, and that actually means they’re more closely related to us humans than they are to ray-finned fish like tuna or goldfish! Hell yeah!

Coelacanths live in the "twilight zone" which is between 500-800 feet deep. It’s hard to study coelacanths in their natural habitat for extended periods, but they never survive trips to the surface due to the pressure change, so a lot about their behavior is still pretty unknown.

Coelacanths are generally slow moving, nocturnal drift hunters, which means they tend to sort of just eat whatever fish cross their path, but they have a lot of interesting adaptations that make their particular method of drift hunting unique.

First, coelacanths have a hinge in their skull, called an intracranial joint, that lets them open their mouth more than would be possible with just their jaw.

Second, they display an interesting behavior when feeding, where they will float with their head pointed down, almost like they're doing a headstand. They do this while floating along catching prey, and it seems to be working out for them.

Third, coelacanths have a sixth sense! They have an organ in their snout called a rostral organ that functions as an electrosensor to help locate their prey by detecting the electrical signals given off by other animals!

They truly are a unique animal. They even have a caudal (tail) fin with three lobes instead of the two-lobed tail that is common in many fish.

(source for this diagram)

And here you can see the three-lobed caudal fin on a real coelacanth (and also you can have a reminder of how big these guys are. They are not little fish)

It seems coelacanths also have more similarities to their relatives, the lungfish, than we used to think. It turns out coelacanths have a vestigial lung! They have a lung that they don’t use anymore! It’s all shrivelled and wrinkly but it’s there!

They also have a spiral shaped intestine! Some sharks have this too, it’s basically shaped like a spiral to increase surface area for maximum nutrient absorption.

Another way they differ from many other fish is their swim bladder, which is how they control their buoyancy! In most fish the swim bladder is filled with gas, but coelacanths' swim bladders are filled with oil and fat instead!

Coelacanths are also the proud owners of notochords! They don’t have backbones, they’re so old they were around before animals had backbones and they just never got one, they still have their oil filled notochords! Don't fix it if it's not broken, right?

Also, just in case you were wondering, they would not taste good, they are full of all sorts of oils (as mentioned in the above two facts), plus they do have very hard and rough scales. (But also even if they did taste good it would be a bad idea to eat them since there aren't a lot of them left and it's generally considered bad to eat endangered species)

Well, that's the end of my coelacanth facts, so if you took the time to read this whole long post that was just me talking about my favorite animal, thanks for sticking around! Here, have some bonus content!

Coelacanths make a guest appearance in Atlantis: the Lost Empire!

I like seeing them in the movie so I ignore they weren’t discovered when the film takes place in 1914 (easy to ignore) and that they wouldn’t survive the trip to the surface due to the immense pressure change (less easy to ignore but I do it anyway) :)

My friend @thelunarbee even crocheted me one for a Christmas present :’) his name is Milo and I love him so so much

I also drew a coelacanth a while ago, here's where I posted it if you want to see it :) (I mean, I draw coelacanths all the time but those are mostly doodles, this one I actually put effort into)

Alright that's all I have to say, but I hope you liked the coelacanth facts and remember, if coelacanths can survive for 400 million years, you can make it through today. Be kind to yourself :)

#coelacanth #i love coelacanths #sorry for the long post #me rambling #featuring the coelacanth aka my very favorite animal #this turned out way longer than i meant it to lol #fish #fish facts #coelacanth facts #im also a big fan of relicanth the coelacanth pokemon #i dont know anything about pokemon but i love bulbasaur and relicanth #i also want to play animal crossing very badly because i know there are coelacanths in it #basically if a piece of media has coelacanths its a guarantee that i'll want to consume it #also i love reading tags so if you have any thoughts feel free to tag this post #credit for that last coelacanth pic with all the hearts: me! I did that :)

[diazbuckleydreamer]

The Prize for Bad Behavior

Chapter 1: What are you going to do about it?

“I know why he’s acting like this. I just don’t know what to do about it.” Eddie sat across the glossed over wood bar table from Tommy. His pint glass hadn’t left his hand for more than a few seconds since the waitress set it down in front of him ten minutes ago and he looked more annoyed than Tommy had yet to see him. They’d just finished up the pick up game on the west side. A game they had easily dominated. They should be in a great mood. But their happiness over the game was being greatly overshadowed by the nasty attitude they’d both been on the receiving end of from Eddie’s best friend.

“You do?” Tommy questioned his eyebrow raising enough that he could feel the pull on his face. Still clearly irritated, Eddie gulped down more beer before coming up for air. His face twisted up into a scowl.

“Of course I do! I know Buck as well as I know myself.”

Tommy had no doubt about that. One of the very first things that Tommy had picked up on when Eddie and him began hanging out, was that he and Evan were attached at the hip. But Eddie’s own admission, the two were each other’s everything. And what Tommy didn’t understand, was how neither man had figured out that everything meant madly in love. He’d seen it a million times in his life. It was a common thing especially among gays. Two people who were best friends, trying so hard to convince themselves that’s all it was. But Tommy had a suspicion that in this case, the two men truly had no idea.

“He’s jealous!” Eddie’s words had Tommy pausing, glass halfway to his mouth as he looked over the table. For a moment, the words had made Tommy believe he’d been wrong, and that at least Eddie was aware of the feelings between them. But a quick assessment of the younger man’s face showed nothing more than surface level irritation.

“What could he have to be jealous of?” He asked, moving to drink his beer. Hoping that the move would hide his interest in the subject, which he was sure was obvious on his face.

Tommy wasn’t entirely sure where his interest lied at that point. There was a moment after the cruise ship rescue, where Evan had looked at Tommy with so much love and happiness and appreciation in his gorgeous blue eyes, that Tommy had sworn Evan was attracted to him. It was a thought that Tommy had felt was confirmed when Evan had gone to Hen to get his number before calling him up and asking him for a tour of the Air Support Hangar. But ever since that day, it had seemed like Tommy had been way off track. Evan hadn’t reached out at all. Not even bothering to reply when Tommy had sent him a text asking if he’d enjoyed his tour. What was more, the basketball game had been the first time Tommy had seen the adorable firefighter since that day, and he’d acted like both Eddie and Tommy were bugs on the bottom of his shoe.

And then, there was Eddie. Tommy couldn’t deny that the man was a knockout. He was hot, a ton of fun to be around, they shared a lot of interests and genuinely just enjoyed each other’s company. Tommy couldn’t deny he was excited every time he knew they were going to be hanging out. It felt just the same giddiness he had with past romantic partners. But despite the fact that Eddie had a tendency to flirt seemingly without realizing it, and a late night admission that he took the path in life he did solely because it had been what was expected of him, Tommy still hadn’t gotten solid indication that Eddie would be open to him making a move. So, he hadn’t.

Tommy watched the irritation melt off Eddie’s face at his question. It was replaced by a look of mourning. Eddie sighed. “He gets insecure.” He told him. It was the last thing Tommy had expected him to say.

“Insecure?” He parroted. “He’s good looking, sweet, from what I hear he’s a damn good firefighter. What is it he’s insecure about? I mean, clearly he knows he can’t be replaced. Especially not in your life.”

Eddie thought it over for a moment, the sad look on his face deepening. “He doesn’t know that.” His friend’s sexy brown eyes met his expectant gaze for a long moment, drilling in the overwhelming truth in what he’d just said, before flicking down to the table. “There’s a long and really messed up story behind it. But Buck doesn’t believe he’s enough…for anyone. I’ve tried so hard over the years to convince him otherwise. And he’s a lot better than he used to be, but-”

“Let me guess, but when it comes to you and your friendship, his jealousy is easily spiked.” Eddie’s attention snapped back up to him, disbelief clouding his eyes.

“Yeah. How’d you know that?” This was one of those moments, where Eddie spoke to him in a way as adoring as Buck’s gaze after the rescue. It made Tommy’s stomach drop a little. Like when the helicopter caught a slight down draft. Noticeable but not overwhelming.

“Because people are unreasonably protective over the things they love the most.” Tommy answered lightly. He knew that after only knowing these two men for a couple of weeks, that it wasn’t his place to interfere. Especially after Evan and Eddie had been tap dancing around the subject for years. But as a man who finally felt comfortable in himself and his sexuality, he couldn’t let two men who were clearly head over heels for each other, miss their opportunity because they refused to see it. If there was one thing that Tommy could do as Eddie’s friend, it’d be to lay this out for him.

Surprisingly, Eddie didn’t some much as a blink at Tommy’s words. A knowing expression pressed his features. “I know that better than anyone.” He muttered more to himself than his friend. “That’s why I’ve never told him that I want to be with him.”

When Eddie finally got the courage to meet Tommy’s eyes, it took a moment for him to actually see the smirk being offered his way.

“You knew?” He questioned. Tommy couldn’t help but laugh.

“Of course I knew. I mean, it’s pretty obvious-well, to everyone but you two apparently.” Eddie’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, giving Tommy the chance to compose himself. With a sigh of resignation, he threw caution and common sense to the wind. “Why do you think I didn’t ask you out on a real date?”

Eddie’s jaw snapped shut, his brows pressing together in confusion as he assessed the man across from him. Tommy knew he was questioning whether or not it was a joke, so Tommy met his gaze head on. “You wanted to ask me out?” Eddie finally asked. His tone not just level, but even holding the tiniest bit of teasing. Tommy’s stomach dipped again.

“Of course I did!” Tommy threw back playfully. “Come on Diaz, you’re a good looking dude. And a shit ton of fun to hang out with. Why wouldn’t I be attracted to you?”

Eddie let out an exhale that sounded a lot like a laugh from where Tommy was sitting. “Damn. And here I thought you kind of had a thing for Buck. I mean, I saw the way you were looking at him on the boat.”

Tommy’s teeth sank into his bottom lip. “I am.” He admitted before shaking his head. “Well, I was. But, you and I both saw how much he despises me.” His words took on a regretful tone that sobered both men a little.

Tommy wished he and Eddie would keep playing around and joking. In another world, Tommy would take this and run with it. He’d flirt, buy Eddie a drink or two. They’d hang out, hit it off, and maybe if Tommy were lucky, he’d be lucky enough to score a kiss before getting in his car and driving home.

But this wasn’t that world.

In this world, whether it was a stated thing or not, Eddie belonged to Evan. Tommy would respect that dynamic. Even though he’d admitted his feelings for Eddie, and Evan for that matter, he knew he wouldn’t act on it. Because he’d already gotten in between the two men more than he should have.

“He doesn’t despise you.” Eddie argued. “He just doesn’t know you. All he knows is that I keep hanging out with you instead of him.”

“Why do you?” The words flew out of Tommy’s mouth before he could stop them.

Eddie polished off his drink before responding. “Because I like you too.” He admitted. “And…the truth is it’s getting hard to be around Buck and ignore how I feel.”

Having the hot guy you're hanging out with pine over another man right after saying he likes you normally wouldn’t go over very well. But for some reason, Tommy actually felt honored that he’d been looped into the same statement as Eddie’s love for Evan. It somehow told him that Eddie was really into him.

“So, just tell him how you feel.” Tommy offered before downing the rest of his drink. “I know you think it’ll ruin things, but it won’t. I know it isn’t my place, but if the shit that went down on the court today says anything, it’s that he feels the same way.”

“You know, I was thinking the same thing. But I couldn’t bring myself to address it after his behavior. I don’t want him thinking that he can get his way by throwing a temper tantrum.” Timmy couldn’t help but laugh, loud and hearty at the statement.

“I can get behind that.” He said finally.

A look of pure astonishment lit Eddie’s face suddenly. “I’ve got it!” He told Tommy as he flagged down their waitress. Tommy did nothing to hide the curiosity and confusion on his face.

“What?”

Eddie handed the waitress a twenty to cover their drinks and told her to keep the change before pushing out of his chair. “Buck keeps forgetting, I’m a dad. I know how to handle a kid having a fit. I know how to give him what we both want while punishing him at the same time, but I need your help. You game?”

The mischief in Eddie’s eyes was something he hadn’t seen since the night of the rescue and it turned Tommy on to no end. Standing, he stepped around the table and up to Eddie. “I don’t know where you’re going with this. But I’m in.”

#buddie #eddie diaz #911 abc #evan buckley #911 #buckley diaz family #buck/eddie #911 fanfic #keep tommy! #buck x tommy #eddie diaz x tommy kinard #buck x tommy x eddie

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not confirming where my mom was supposed to pick me up?

To start this off, I (16F) am a senior in high school and the section leader of my marching band's saxophone section. I always need to arrive a bit early to practice and put in my 100% effort to be a good example for the first-year marchers and other saxophonists. After doing all of the work that I do keeping track of 7 people on the field at all times and counting and playing and marching, I can usually expect one of my parents to pick me up at some point in time at a specific spot. We always pick a specific spot for me to wait at because if I wait somewhere else, my parents might get confused and just leave.

At some point in time, my mom (43F) received an email from one of the other band parents telling her to pick me up at the PAC, an entrance on the opposite side of the building. Due to this, we both spent half an hour waiting for the other to arrive before I finally decided to text her. "Are you on the way?" I asked casually, in case she wasn't on the way and might be mad at me for interrupting a meeting or something. She responded by saying "I have been waiting out front for 30 minutes. Your brother is upset."

So, seeing her message, I walked to the front office. The school's entrances form a sort of compass rose, with the front office being in the north, the band door the east, the welding doors the south, and the PAC in the west. If I had known that she was in the PAC, I could have simply walked the short hallway from the band door to the PAC. However, she told me that she was at the front, which is how she refers to the front office. Upon reaching the front office, I texted her again, asking, "where are you? I don't see your car here." And she responded with "I'm in the PAC parking lot." So. I had to walk all the way around the school building to reach the PAC, and the instant I opened the car door, she began yelling slurs at me for not simply going to the PAC, which was where she was the whole time, and why did I not know that.

The reason I'm asking this is because she had a point. I could have asked anyone at any time and they might have been able to tell me where my mom would pick me up at. While she didn't tell me herself, I probably shouldn't have assumed that she would be at our usual spot, especially after seeing some kids get picked up from where she was at.

So, tumblr. Am I the asshole for not asking someone where I was supposed to get picked up?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole