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#we'll see what i'm up for when i draw next
tblsomedoodles · 8 months
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Donnie's Visions (apocalypse Seer Twins comic) Part 5 (complete!)
Start - Previous
I should wait until tomorrow to post this so i can make sure i didn't miss anything. But i don't particularly want to wait. It's the last part and i just really want this to be fully complete (post and all.)
anyways, i hope you enjoyed this comic! I am very glad to get to check one thing off my to-do list.
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todayisafridaynight · 5 months
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ignore if you don't give one for my streams Anyways potential stream schedule goin forward Just Until I Finish Judgement
thursday i'll stream judgement from like. 3:30 ~ 7:30
friday'll be 4:30 ~ 8:30
saturdays will be the usual 3:30 ~ . fuckin whenever LMAO art stream i do
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companion-showdown · 1 year
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Option 1 was suggested by @intodarknes
Option 2 was suggested by anonymous
The generic line up will be changed to include companions who have been specifically requested (their may be other changes depending on the tournament, for example option 1 would be a whole new line up, or including robots who don't wear clothes wouldn't make sense in a tournament judging fashion)
Lucie Miller will replace Josie Day (requested by @thenugking)
Hex Schofield will replace Sabalom Glitz (requested by @thenugking)
Alison Cheney will replace Kate Stewart (requested by anonyomous)
If you want to suggest a companion you'd like to join the general line up or just the line up to a specific tournament, either leave it in the notes of this post (or any really, but for the purposes of me being able fo find it easily it'd be nice if you left it here), or send me an ask. This includes anyone who I've swapped out, who you think should stay. I'm especially interested in almost / could have been companions, theres so many I'm sure I'll miss your favourite whenever we eventually get round to that tournament
If you'd like to suggest a tournament then similarly
You can find all suggested tournaments, my ideas, and requested companions under the tag #future tournament ideas
#at some point i'll have to draw the line on companion requests#but there's still enough tv companions i'm comfortable getting rid of#i don't know if there are any eu companions i've listed who i'd feel similarly about#so if there are any whose companion status is highly disputed that might also be a thing to let me know#heres the tag mentioned in the post#future tournament ideas#best fashion sense requires more work in set up#becuase i'd need more images for the graphics to properly demonstrate what we're judging#so if that wins it will take a lot longer for the tournament to start#tagging these polls#up next#from now on so they're easy to find if you miss it when its published#i am considering hottest companion as an option#so we'll see if it makes it on this poll next time#oh and current companions i'm happy to kick out to accomodate requests are#wilf. sara kingdom. chang lee. karvanista. mickey at a push. kamelion maybe. handles. adam mitchell. gillian and john who. katarina#at an absolute push romana i and ii could be listed together#these aren't necessarily in the order i'd get rid of them#i was just looking down the current bracket#i guess id also get rid of benton. yates. river. k9#the line in the sand is if a tv companion is undisputed as a companion they're staying#those 4 are in the blurry middle where i definitely consider them a companion but their status is disputed by others#anyway ive talked too long in these tags#if any of those are must stays for you it might be worth letting me know so at minimum they move to the bottom of the list#the really important thing here is vote for the tournament you want to see next
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astralstarlight · 3 months
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walking in on you with your favourite toy !
w/ sukuna and choso (separate)
warnings/tags: implied fem! reader (bc that's how i'm thinking about it in my head rn), suggestive, 18+, no curses AU, in a relationship with choso, it's anyone's business who you are to sukuna (housemates maybe??), definitely not in a relationship with him though and you probably have to deal with him walking around shirtless all the fine and looking fine, the toy is a vibrator
a/n: thinking about them a lot recently
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Sukuna is not amused. This is not his fault.
If you were going to be doing such private things, then you should lock your door.
"I can explain." You say.
Sukuna gives you a once-over. You're extremely calm for someone who's just had a ruined orgasm. The vibrator is still buzzing a little away from where you'd given up on trying to turn it off and just thrown it to the side for hopes of bringing some small sense of decency back onto your naked form. The blanket is haphazardly tossed over your legs.
It barely covers you.
You're wearing a big t-shirt and nothing else on the bottom half. He got a pretty good glimpse in your panic anyways — wet, wanting, twitching... He can't seem to get it out of his mind anymore.
An eerie acceptance settles over your face. It must be the adrenaline, Sukuna deducts.
"Okay." Sukuna says, crossing his arms and pushing the door closed behind him. "Explain."
"Well." And you have the audacity to hesitate on your words still, as though he isn't already wasting his time and attention on you. "You should knock." Pause. "Next time."
Sukuna lets out a barking laugh. "There won't be a next time, brat." He stalks over to you. It's a bit more imposing than you would imagine, especially when his eyes are scanning over your form as though he's already eating you up in his mind. He decides to toss a side-glance to your vibrator in an attempt to embarrass you further, before drawing his attention back to you.
It works, a brief flicker of panic exposing itself on your face as you seem to finally catch up to the situation.
"Just ask. But don't try to be cute about it." Sukuna continues.
"Sukuna?" You ask timidly, still trying to figure out what he's actually proposing.
"I told you not to be cute about it."
That seems to rile you up, and you feel a flash of annoyance run through you. "I'm cute about everything."
You just get to finish your sentence, before he cups your jaw dangerously tight, tilting your face to look up at him. Perhaps you weren't such a quiet and innocent housemate after all. The way your cheeks squish together is kind of cute actually.
He thinks you might look better crying.
A sound between a questioning mumble and a choke leaves your throat. You open your mouth to say something else, but his fingers are already tracing down to your collarbone. He tilts his head slightly as he feels your breath hitch.
"Lie back." Sukuna says, nudging your shoulder a little.
It's a final warning, you realise. A checkpoint in deciding whether you want to continue or not.
You do follow his instructions, jerking slightly as he manages to slide his hand onto you and press down onto your sensitive clit. His hands quickly move to keep your legs open.
He stops moving for a bit and you peek up at him to see what he's doing. The vibrator is in his hand, looking rather small and pathetic.
"We'll see how easily you cum from this, and depending on whether you impress me..." His eyes travel from your lower half up to your eyes. "I'll show you how good it'll feel to take me."
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Choso is polite about it. Every kiss you've shared with him has been soft, sweet even. He's never shown any particular interest in furthering it. It's why you're so oddly embarrassed when he walks in on you with your vibrator pressed against your clit.
"Choso!" You manage to slip the vibrator out of your hands and turn it off, ignoring the urge to pull the blankets over your head.
His face reveals no surprise, nor a blush. A feeling of insecurity runs through you and a stinging starts behind your eyes. Huh.
In the silence, he's staring very intently at your closed legs. He takes a step into the room, still saying nothing.
You jump slightly when he sits beside you on the bed. He's uncertain, bordering on nervous as his fingers twitch slightly.
It's quiet enough that you think you should say something.
"Choso—" You say again, in a softer, more reassuring tone.
He cuts you off. "I'll help."
The matter-of-fact tone makes you blush. You forget how straightforward he usually is.
You shake your head. "It's fine. If you're uncomfortable with it or you're not really sure, you don't need to—"
Choso reaches under the covers from where you've thrown your vibrator. The top of it still glistens with your slick. He takes it out, twisting it in his hand as though to investigate it. He presses the button until it vibrates a bit too loudly.
It's not a setting you usually would have set it on to start with.
"Just tell me what to do." He says.
Good thing there's a lot of different settings for him to play with under your guidance.
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luveline · 6 months
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if your still taking requests I would like to request reader scraping their knees and tasm!peter patching her up and it’s a lot of lovely tension:))) maybe r not being used to people touching them without bad intentions.
I hope you are having a lovely time right now and are taking care of yourself<3
thank you lovely! ♡ fem, 1k
Peter's droopy eyed when you knock, less so when he gets a good look at you. Blood leading like twin snakes from the grazed ache of your knees and staining your socks, tears lining your eyes and shiny in the sun, you're embarrassingly sad. He doesn't give you shit for it, the opposite. 
"Fuck," he says, his eyes widening with a familiar concern. "Shit, what did you do?" 
"Uhm," you say, though you know, but you bit your tongue on the way down and everything hurts, "I fell. Someone bumped into me coming out of the subway." 
Peter holds his hands out, thinks better of it and steps down over the door jam to take your hands and pull you forward for a hug. He smells like apple jack cereal and his hair is still wet from an early morning shower, a walking poster boy for brown-haired, brown-eyed sweethearts everywhere, but you still seize at his tight hold. 
He murmurs a sorry and leans back, assessing your gaze, so close that you can see the trifecta of his pinprick beauty marks, one in the shadow of his brow, one under his eye, and one closer to his nose. 
"Come on. We'll clean you up." 
Peter ushers you inside, his fingertips brushing the small of your back. You walk into the kitchen, every surface clean, the wooden dining table decorated by one empty coffee cup and one half full. His cereal bowl has been washed and left to dry on the rack, next to what must've been his Aunt May's plate. 
"May's in work already?" you ask him.
He hums, turned away from you, a slip of his long, shapely back exposed as he reaches for the first aid kit sitting on top of one of the cabinets. "She said to tell you thank you for the flowers last week." 
You panicked so much beforehand. What do you bring for your not quite new friend's mom when you meet her for the first time? You've known Peter for a few months but never had the good fortune to meet May until she demanded it, your bouquet a weak offering. You'd wanted her to like you, because despite your fight or flight whenever he gives you a quick shoulder rub, any ounce of affection, you really like Peter. 
Said flowers draw your attention as Peter helps you up onto the counter. You turn away from him, trembling hands forced under your thighs, and count the petals of a wilting carnation one by one as he washes his hands quickly in the sink beside you before laying out the sterile bandages atop their plastic coverings. "I'm gonna wipe the blood off," he says. 
You're past saying no, I can do it myself. You already let him help you up. The time to protest is passed. 
"Okay." 
He takes your wobbly voice for nervousness, and you are nervous, but not the way he thinks. "I'll be careful," he says. "You don't have anything to worry about." 
Strange but not unheard of for Peter to be so serious. You nod jerkily, waiting for his touch. It doesn't come for a while, and you brave meeting his gaze to find out why. 
His eyebrows are sewn together in concern. His hands land on your thighs, and, to your surprise, you aren't apprehensive. You relax as deft hands draw mirrored lines up and down the outer sides of your legs, leaving a generous distance from the beginnings of your shorts. "Maybe you can take some advil first, if you're worried." He eases your legs apart as he steps into the space between them, his eyes unfailing where they meet yours. "It'll hurt less. I bet I could get some topical numbing cream–" 
"It's not–" You peek down at his chest. "I'm not worried about my knees." 
"Oh. Good," he says, hand coming up to your elbow. He holds it so tenderly you wonder how you ever thought he might have a propensity for anything but tenderness. "You look really nice, under all the blood. Is that weird? That's probably why you fell, you couldn't just walk around looking that nice. Throws off the balance of the universe." 
You laugh softly. "These are my best socks." 
"I can see that!" He squeezes down from your elbow to your hand. You've never been touched like that, half massage, half reassurance, just squeezing you to squeeze you. Laughter livens his tone, "I'll get you new socks." 
"You don't have to do that."
"I want to." 
You struggle to breathe as he cleans your knees. Between his murmuring, It's okay and Almost done, you've no time to feel worried. 
You've time for other things, like this. He turns between your legs and slides a hand under the other, fingertips pressing into the soft underside of your knee as he works a thin layer of disinfecting ointment into your scratches. He continues his murmuring, apologies and lamentation alike. "Sorry. Don't want you catching rabies from the pristine streets of Queens. I mean, fuck, sweetheart, you made a real mess. How hard did you fall?" 
You swallow a lump that feels fit to choke you, worse when he tilts his head ever so slightly your way, face an inch from yours, less. 
"Hard," you say weakly. 
He misses the implication (your first stroke of luck all day), smoothing a large square of gauze over your knee and securing it with medical tape. "It's nothing a day on the couch can't fix. I'll make you breakfast too, free of charge." 
"Thanks, Peter." 
He rubs the skin above your knee. "You're welcome. One horrendous injury down, one to go." 
His touch feels even softer the second time around. 
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tinycoffeeroom · 13 days
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up the oranges? | max verstappen
face claim: none ᡣ𐭩
request: here !
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
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👤 ybfngram, landonorris, mclaren liked by ybfngram, landonorris and 83,928 others
y/nstagram bestie won paddock passes to mclaren garage and was gracious enough to let little noob me tag along! up the oranges or whatever she said 🧡
ygfngram it's papaya babe... but thank u for letting me rant about all things f1!! (and thank u for the lando pic i'm gonna be so insufferable from now on) ↳ y/nstagram wdym from now on?? but i enjoyed it! 🫶
user1 y/n and f1?? the crossover we never knew we needed
user2 please say you vlogged it!! ↳ y/nstagram ofc i did 🫶 coming next week!!
landonorris was lovely to meet you guys! :) ♥️ y/nstagram, ybfngram
mclaren if y/n says it's up the oranges, it's up the oranges... you're welcome back anytime 🧡 ↳ y/nstagram sorry best friends.. up the papayas! 🧡
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👤 landonorris, oscarpiastri, mclaren, maxverstappen1 liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 103,496 others
y/nstagram new vlog out now! the orange (😉) boys explain f1 to me, we take a look around the mclaren garages and a certain world champion sneaks in! link in bio 🧡
landonorris for someone who's never seen an f1 race, you picked it up pretty well! ↳ ybfngram not for lack of trying, she never wants to join my race nights 💔 ↳ y/nstagram next time baby! girls night ❤️
redbullracing we think she'd look better in blue 👀 ↳ maxverstappen1 agreed ↳user2 ARIANA? what are you doing here
mclaren back 🤺 redbull 🤺 back!
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👤 y/nstagram liked by landonorris, y/nstagram and 385,038 others
mclaren we must say, orange suits you y/n 🧡
y/nstagram thank you for having me back mclaren! the oranges are safe and sound in my kitchen 🫡 ↳ user1 oranges?? ↳ y/nstagram when i arrived, they had a bowl of oranges waiting for me... humiliating babes...
landonorris the highlight was her peeling oranges for oscar and patting his head like a baby ↳ oscarpiastri didn't see her peeling YOU oranges though 🤨 ↳ y/nstagram that's ybfngram's job xx ↳ ybfngram i would have if SOMEONE would have invited me... ↳ y/nstagram you were literally on another continent grumpy pants ↳ mclaren next time we'll bring some oranges for you ybfngram 🧡 ↳ ybfngram and that's why i'm a papaya girl for life 🧡 ♥️ mclaren, landonorris
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👤 ybfngram, y/nstagram liked by maxverstappen1, y/nstagram and 593,957 others
redbullracing it's mr steal your girllll 🎶
mclaren ... y/n how could you do this to us ↳ y/nstagram MCLAREN ITS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE.. you know i love you 🫶 ↳ mclaren save it 💔
landonorris not you too 💔 ybfngram ↳ y/nstagram tbf i did have to physically wrestle the shirt onto her, dw she immediately went back to orange 🧡 ↳ ybfngram lando sweetie... the papaya is in my veins... i was coerced... ↳ landonorris guess i'll have to bring you back to our side of the paddock 😉
maxverstappen1 i was right, she does look better in blue 💙 ↳ user1 back of the line mr verstappen we were simping first ♥️ y/nstagram ↳ y/nstagram free red bulls for life and i'll back the blue ↳ mclaren wtf? ↳ maxverstappen1 consider it done ↳ christianhorner i don't remember agreeing to this max
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👤 maxverstappen1, redbullracing liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 92,495 others
y/nstagram alexa play the dutch national anthem 💙
redbullracing our favourite song 💙
user1 did max draw that himself 😭 ↳ maxverstappen1 y/n made it for me!
mclaren y'all are cute or whatever... ↳ y/nstagram still love you mclaren 🧡
scuderiaferrari we spot our charles, maybe red will suit you too y/n ❤️ ↳ y/nstagram if you can get me a ferrari, i'll consider it xx ↳ scuderiaferrari ... let us make some phone calls ↳ maxverstappen1 i will burn it to the ground. ↳ user1 ur so real for that max, fight for your red bull girl! ♥️ maxverstappen1
user2 y/n having all these f1 teams wrapped around her finger... what she deserves
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👤 maxverstappen1, schecoperez, redbullracing liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 132,842 others
y/nstagram back at it again with another f1 vid! this time i convinced the red bull gang to do a mukbang with me before mr MV1 zoomed off to win another race! 🫶 link in bio 💙
user1 bro max was so whipped in this video... ↳ user2 TRULY! she had him giggling and kicking his feet the entire vid
user3 how does it feel to watch y/n snatch ur man danielricciardo ↳ danielricciardo he used to giggle and tuck his hair behind his ears like that with me 💔 come home max, the kids miss you x ↳ maxverstappen1 fuck them kids
redbullracing poor checo thirdwheeling again... ↳ schecoperez to be honest i checked out halfway through ↳ y/nstagram nooo checo my king im sorry 💔 next time it will be just us two 💙 ↳ maxverstappen1 not if i have anything to do with it
user4 WHIPPED ♥️ maxverstappen1
mclaren is this what it feels like to be cheated on? 💔 ↳ y/nstagram my hearts big enough for both orange and blue 🧡💙
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liked by maxverstappen1, y/nstagram and 963,956 others
redbullracing yo bro who got you smiling like that...
user1 red bull soft launching their drivers relationship?? admin on a scale of 1 to 10 how fired are you ↳ redbullracing i am declining all of christians calls... ↳ christianhorner see you at work monday. ↳ redbullracing oh its so over
maxverstappen1 can't believe red bull admin beat us to it y/nstagram 💔 ↳ y/nstagram aaand i guess that was the hard launch
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👤 maxverstappen1 liked by maxverstappen1, ybfngram and 150,385 others
y/nstagram so here's my bf(?) i guess... thanks redbullracing
danielricciardo stealing the second image thanks! ↳ y/nstagram 🫡
maxverstappen1 you couldn't have made it cute ↳ y/nstagram just showing your true personality babe x
maxverstappen1 love you or whatever 🙄 ♥️ y/nstagram
user1 she's so real for these pics
redbullracing if it makes you feel better i did nearly lose my job ↳ user1 we got your back admin ❤️
user2 the first pic should be framed and hung in the louvre ♥️ y/nstagram, maxverstappen1
user3 why the ? by bf ??? ↳ y/nstagram we never really made it official?? red bull did it for us i guess hahaha ↳ maxverstappen1 oh make no mistake, you're mine ❤️ ♥️ redbullracing, y/nstagram
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cryptidghostgirl · 3 months
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Make You Wish Chapter Two -- Where Is She
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: really super mild versions of cannon violence.
Word count: 2,072
Previous Part: Make You Wish Chapter One -- Seven Years
Master list link:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List 
Make You Wish Master List
A/N I accidentally posted this before I was ready tooo ahhhh!!! it's fine. Everything was already written I just had to format it properly and stuff.
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Alastor had been at the Hazbin Hotel for only a few days and was already enjoying his time there greatly. It was an entertaining place, to say the least, and now that he had his feet under him, he was intent on making it even more so.
Charlie was pacing around the sitting room, stressed beyond belief. She had gone to speak to Adam the previous day to try and get his support for her plan, only to wind up with the news that the next extermination was coming in six moths, rather than the usual twelve. Alastor watched her duress in amusement as he sauntered into the hotel lobby, side stepping Angel, Charlie, and Vaggie to take a seat at the bar.
"It's nothing we can't handle," Charlie was explaining, trying to convince herself as much as anyone else in the room, "just angels cutting our timetable in half. But who needs a whole year to save souls? Am I right? And next time, when they cut the time in half again and again, we'll just handle it, right?!"
Vaggie got to her feet, grabbing her girlfriend by the shoulders and stopping her from her relentless pacing.
"Yes, we will." she confirmed.
"Oh please," Angel cut in from the couch, his eyes fixed on his phone, "ya had less than half a chance when you started all this salvation bullshit. And now...? Ain' no silver lining this time, toots."
"Sure there is." Charlie turned to him, "We just have to look a little harder for it."
"Well, while you're lookin', the rest of Hell is going nuts."
Angel turned his phone to Charlie, showing all the news headlines of terror he'd pulled up.
"People are already freaking out about the news. Look at what's happening in the Doomsday District."
He scrolled down to a video of a burning town just as a text notification popped up.
"Uh, what is a 'donkey show'?" Charlie asked in confusion, having read the text.
"Ah, heh, nothing." Angel pulled the phone from her line of sigh, trying to come up with a quick lie, "My boss, Val, is just freaked out about the news too. Like I said, everyone's losing their shit."
"Yeah, that is true." Vaggie hummed thoughtfully, a hand to her chin, "Sinners are desperate. Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape extermination?"
"Speaking of sinners," Alastor said, drawing the attention in the room to him as he turned towards Husk who was busying cleaning glasses, "I think it's time I look up my old partner in crime."
"And what do I have to do with that?" the cat demon gruffly replied, not sparing Alastor a glance.
"Your partner in crime?" Charlie asked, taking a step towards the bar, "I always thought you... you know, worked alone?"
Alastor's grin widened.
"Oh never you mind, dear." he replied, throwing her a glance over his shoulder, "Just a lost soul I'm acquainted with is all."
"Yeah. You've been trying to get her to sell you that soul for what, the past seventy years is it now?" Husk scoffed.
Alastor's eye twitched slightly at the implication of his failure.
"If I wanted it, I would have it." he hummed threateningly, and Husk backed down.
"That's great!" Charlie exclaimed, "So she's a friend of yours? Do you think she'd help with the hotel? Oh! Or maybe that she'd want to be a guest?!"
"Charlie-" Vaggie began but Alastor quickly cut her off.
"I don't see a harm in asking." he cheerily replied.
"And you know her, Husk?" Charlie asked.
He looked up as he placed a clean glass on the shelf, shooting Alastor a glance before nodding.
"Do you think she'd be a good fit?"
He sighed, crossing his arms as Husk turned to face Charlie fully.
"She's a sweetheart, I think you'd get along well." he admitted, "But she's trouble, just like him."
Husk gestured towards Alastor and Charlie's smile widened.
"Well, with all Alastor has done for us so far, I think we could probably use more trouble like him."
"Oh you flatter me." Alastor waved her off, looking away in a false show of humility.
"No really." Charlie insisted, "You-"
"Show yourself, Alastor!" a dramatic call cut Charlie off mid thought.
----
"Um. Alastor?" Charlie hesitantly began, peeking out from behind his shoulder as she watched the havoc he was wreaking on the snake shaped sinner, "I think he's had enough."
Alastor cackled joyfully, not even watching as his shadows destroyed the air ship.
"Nah, he's got a few more hits in 'im." Angle disagreed, enjoying the show immensly.
The shadows tilted the ship forward, dropping Sir Pentious out through the broken windshield. He hit the ground with a thud, right before Alastor's feet. Stopping in his fit of laughter, he looked down at the man, spinning his microphone like a baton.
"Thanks for another forgettable experience." he teased as one of the egg creatures fell from the ship, splattering on the ground beside Charlie who took a step away.
"Thank... you..." Sir Pentious began, his voice pained as he raised his head slowly, "for letting your guard down!"
Almost before Alastor could register what was happening, the snake had grabbed onto his coat with his tail and torn a piece from its hem. Alastor took a menacing step forward, his eyes narrowed.
"Oh shit." Pentious' triumphant laughter died out.
Slowly, Alastor sprouted a pair of shadowy horns. With a snap of his finger, the ground under the snake detonated, throwing him up into the air and far away from the hotel with a scream. He watched as Pentious flew away, retracting his horns and standing with a hand behind his back. Once the snake was out of sight, he at last turned to Charlie and Angel, as well as Husk and Vaggie who had come out to join them.
"Well, it looks as thought I need a visit to the tailor." he hummed, "Husk?"
"Yeah?" Husk grunted.
"Where did you say she was again?"
"I didn't."
Husk crossed his arms defensively and Alastor took a step towards him, his smile a little smaller than normal. There was an odd air between the two of them, a tension every one present could feel biting into their skins.
"Whats that?" Alastor asked lowly, his head cocked slightly to the side.
Husk sighed.
"Last I heard she was working for some imp in Pentagram City." Husk reluctantly admitted, looking away, "As an assassin or something, I don't know the details."
"An imp, you say." Alastor thoughtfully replied, his expression unreadable.
"Look, Alastor." Husk turned back to his master, "Don't fuck this up for her. She seemed pretty happy last time I saw her. You disappearing like that wrecked the poor girl."
"Just means she'll be all the more happy to see me."
Alastor turned, beginning to walk away. At the sound of Husk speaking again, he paused, keeping his back to the quartet.
"Alastor, ju-"
Alastor turned his head, shooting Husk a critical look over his shoulder. It shut the cat demon up almost immedeatly.
"Best of luck, chums!"
"Wait, you're leaving?" Vaggie exclaimed, taking a step forward.
Irritation prickling beneath his skin, Alastor turned back to them once again. It had been seven years, he didn't know how much longer he could wait. Sure, he'd had time in Hell on his own, nearly twenty years of it. He didn't need her per-say, she just made things more interesting, more enjoyable. It just felt odd for them to be parted.
Sure, when they had first met, he had thought she was just an easy steal of a soul. Young, naive, frankly undeserving in his opinion of eternal damnation. But smart, smarter than she looked. Y/n had refused any and all deals with the man and so, he had taken it as a challenge. What had begun as a game: Alastor trying to gain ownership of Y/n's soul ended up as an after-life long friendship.
Alastor would never admit it to anyone but, in his absence, he had even missed Y/n the smallest bit. She kept things interesting, he told himself, that was all. Always causing discreet mischief, always quick with a joke. A true pleasure to have on the show, as he always used to say.
"Alastor, we need your help. We need you to do your job." Vaggie continued.
"We need a wall." Angel finished for her, gesturing to the portion of the hotel Sir Pentious had destroyed in his attack.
"Of course." Alastor replied, keeping an irritated remark at bay, "Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. What would the papers say?"
With a snap of his fingers, minions made of shadows pulled themselves from the ground at his feet. So as not to give anyone another chance to stall him further, he quickly turned on his heel and walked off.
Alastor was a man of image, he kept his pace slow and firm. Couldn't have any of them getting any ideas in their heads about the nature of his relationship with Y/n. That had always been trouble in the old days. The minute people saw the pair together, they started assuming things. He had already decided he was going to be more careful about that this time around and this was the first step.
There was a slight bounce in his step as he headed into the city's center, an odd anticipation fluttering in his chest. Alastor pushed it to the side. It was simply the thrill of being back in his old stomping ground that was to blame. It didn't matter he'd already been back a few days and it should have worn off by now, he should just feel lucky to still be so entertained by this place he'd known longer than he'd even been alive. Right?
----
Y/n was sitting at Blitzo's desk, reading through paperwork he had neglected to fill out or file correctly. It wasn't like any one in Hell really payed their taxes, but the mess still stressed her out. She let out a sigh, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her eyes in irritation. She had never had to do this type of work before, not since she'd been alive anyways. How the times had changed.
Noise of Blitzo and Moxxie fighting filtered in through the closed door. It wasn't anything special, anything new. The pair were always at one another's throats, she wasn't worried. What would be worrying, was if things were quiet. This was just the way life sounded now: inelegant and brazen. Nothing like it used to.
The buzzing of her phone on the desk beside her pulled Y/n from her reveries and she picked it up. The collar lay heavy around her neck as she read the message. Y/n had made some bad choices along the way, figuring out how to be on her own. She wasn't pleased with them, but it was what she had had to do. Back then, she hadn't had the need to fight for herself in over sixty years. It was the only thing she could think to do.
She double tapped the text, marking it with a thumbs up before shutting her phone off and leaning her head down on the table. There was no point in wishing for things to be different than they were but, it was just that time of year and the text had pushed her over the edge. A few stray tears trickled out of her eyes.
"Goddamnit, Al." she sighed into the empty room, "Where the hell are you."
Silence pressed its hands against her ears, blurring her perception of the world around her. Y/n had a few seconds, a few nearly peaceful moments before, again, her thoughts were interrupted. This time, not by her phone but by Blitzo calling for her from the other room.
"Y/n!" he yelled and she lifted her head off the table.
"Yeah?" she called back through the closed door.
"Get your ass out here!"
"Why? A client? Can't you handle it?"
"Y/n!" he insisted again, a sense of urgency to his voice.
If this was anything less than an absolute emergency, he was never going to hear the end of it. She was not in the mood for his games today.
"Fine." she groaned and pulled herself from the chair, "I'm coming."
----
Next Part -> Chapter Three -- A Reunion
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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months
Text
Enemies
Lena Oberdorf x Reader
Summary: Out on the pitch, you're enemies
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You slid in hard, grazing the side of your legs as you skidded over the grass.
You popped back up a moment later with the ball which you hurriedly pass to Georgia to take up the other side of the pitch.
"Really?" Lena demanded as she got up too.
You shrugged. "No hard feelings?"
"Let us get a goal and then we'll be even," Lena bit back, shoulder-checking you.
"And throw the game? No chance! You want a goal, earn it, but you're not getting past me."
She scoffed. "We'll see."
Her challenge lit something within you because you made sure to put a bit more force into your challenges just to prove a point. It garnered you a few snide looks and glares but you kept them clean enough to not get a yellow card for your efforts.
You spread your defence across the whole of the Wolfsburg team but made sure to get to Lena first whenever you could.
"You're not getting past me," You said in injury time," Don't even try it."
It was one-nil to Bayern and you were determined to keep it that way. It wasn't the most glorious of score lines (certainly not Lyon or Barcelona level) but you were happy with a win no matter what.
"Watch it!" Lena spat back," Anymore aggressive and you'll get sent off!"
It was true, of course. You'd received a yellow card for dissent within the first ten minutes of the match before your competitive nature had been stoked after Lena had dispossessed Sydney messy enough for you to demand a yellow card.
Instead though, you had received one for arguing with the ref so you were really walking on a tightrope with the force of your tackles.
"You should watch yourself. With the amount you're collecting, one more and you're banned from the next match!"
You were standing eye to eye, the tension electric between you before you scoffed and walked off.
"You're not worth my time."
The battle waged on between you through the rest of the injury time, up until the referee blew the whistle.
The moment the match was over though, the switch had been flipped.
You laughed as Lena barrelled into you, catching you by the waist and twirling you around.
"You were excellent!" She laughed, dropping you down so she could press a kiss to your lips.
"You were too!" You replied," You nearly got me a few times! You had me really worried there!"
"Next time," Lena promised," You won't be able to cope."
"Sure," You said sarcastically, pecking her on the lips," You keep trying, baby. You'll get there when we're sixty."
Lena rolled her eyes, shoving you away by the shoulder before drawing you back in.
"You two are gross," Klara declared," Can you be all cute and sappy elsewhere? You make me sick."
You stuck your tongue out at her before allowing Lena to pull you away.
"Since I won today," You said as you wandered down the tunnel hand-in-hand," Does this mean you have to give me a massage tonight?"
"Don't push your luck," She said," I'm still sore over my crippling defeat."
"Crippling," You scoffed," Don't be dramatic, baby."
You split off from her to head towards the Bayern locker room.
"I'll pick up dinner but I'm expecting that massage when I get home!"
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peachesofteal · 7 months
Note
That nurse au? Devoured it and it lives in my brain rent free. If Simon and Johnny notice the bruises on Nurse do they share looks? Maybe Johnny tries to gently ask about them? I loved this so much.
Anon is referencing this. The way nurse x ghoap has spread through my brain like a flesh eating bacteria is insane. And I can't actually answer this ask because I'm writing it as a fic but I'm happy to give you a little possible snippet/glimpse/ramble down below:
The tablet in your hand chimes, drawing your attention away from the vending machine and to it's far-too-bright-for-this-ungodly-hour screen, to where it displays a status change in red.
268: 38.5 degrees.
Fuck. You abandon your sub par dinner options for nearly sprinting to the room, slowing to a walk to take long, deep breaths before your knuckles are rapping on the glass. Get control of yourself. Simon is too perceptive. He will panic. It could be nothing.
You don't even bother acknowledging your thought process there, the truth that is starting to bleed from your heart, through your body like a disease. The reason why you check on them so often, the reason why you can't stop thinking about them, even when you're off shift. The reason why, when you go home in the morning to go to bed, you drift off thinking about Johnny's sleepy smile, or Simon's voice, humming in your ears.
"Hi." You whisper when you slip inside. He straightens a bit in the armchair, but you're happy to see he's using it as a recliner now, progress from last week when he wouldn't even let himself lean backwards, or fall asleep willingly.
His brow furrows above the black mask.
"Hey, everything alright?" Shit. You're not surprised, you were just in here, after all. Spending too much time sitting in the chair opposite him, next to Johnny, on your break before your patient fell asleep.
"Yeah, I ah... have to draw some blood." You really do not want to wake him up, or alarm Simon, but you also refuse to lie to either of them. You fire off a text to the attending on call, just to advise him of Johnny's temperature and the impending labs that he can expect, before sliding a drawer open as softly as possible and pulling out everything you'll need. You can feel his gaze burning a hole in your scrubs, his ever present scrutiny impossible to escape. Sometimes you think he might be reading your fucking mind.
"He just fell asleep." He protests, and you think, you imagine, that he's frowning behind the mask. You think you almost know what it looks like, strong mouth pulled downwards in consternation, wide jaw gnashed tight.
"I know, but he's running just a bit of a fever." He jolts, and you hold up a hand in caution. "It's not too high, so I'm not super worried, but we'll need to check his white cell count, just in case okay? And then we'll go from there."
"Post op fever is common." He repeats the words you told him last week, after Johnny's second surgery, the one where they went in for the pneumothorax complication, and you nod to reassure him.
"Right. So, just going to do a quick blood draw and get it downstairs so we can find out what's going on." Simon shifts uncomfortably, but nods. You squeeze Johnny's shoulder softly, before swabbing the spot on the inside of his elbow.
He blinks, eyes opening slowly, confused brow smoothing when he looks from his partner, over to you.
"There's our girl." He mumbles softly, and your face heats, eyes widening in surprise before you regulate your reaction. Simon coughs, loudly, and you shake your head with a nervous smile.
"Such a flirt, MacTavish." You tie him fast, fingers a little more clumsy than usual, off balance from hearing him say 'our girl', like you mean something to them. "I just need to get some blood and then I'll leave you in peace." He shrugs, but Simon grabs for his hand and squeezes it.
"Ah come on, Si." He slurs, but reaches to cup Simon's cheek over the mask, rubbing a thumb over the fabric.
"You're runnin’ a fever, Johnny."
"Ach. 's nothing." He brushes it off, but you watch how his eyes are slow to track Simon's movements. You casually glance at the monitor, noting his blood pressure.
"Could be." You assure him. "But can't be too sure, so we're going to check a few labs, alright?" He nods, sleepy, already falling back under, and you pull the needle, taping a small patch of gauze over the puncture in one fell swoop. “Alright. Let me run these down, and I’ll be back up to check on you in a bit.” You turn, stripping your gloves off into the trash.
“We’ll miss ye.” He whispers, and you roll your eyes playfully, even as your stomach clenches.
Simon’s eyes don’t leave you for a single second, not until the door is shut and you’re out of sight.
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nackrosor · 5 months
Text
~Your Wish~
(pt.1/3)
PART 2 - PART 3
Brahms Heelshire x nanny!Reader
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warnings/tags: smut, voyeurism, masturbation (nothing explicit), not much happening tbh, it's more of a teasing for what might come next... (i'm thinking somnophilia, dub/con, eventual consensual sex but we'll see...) words count: 1,1k. a.n: this is just a lil' something to keep the writing block away and to get used to writing less but posting more. Also, for once I focused on the character's - in this case Brahms's - feelings/thoughts instead of the reader's, so there's that. Enjoy!
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The boy watched you as you placed Brahms in its bed with the care of a mother. You've been looking after the doll for weeks now, treating it with such gentleness; he noticed it and it made him happy, proud of you. He liked you even more because of it. 
He's been watching you the entire time, peeking through the slits and gaps between the walls. Every time your hands held the doll's small form tight to your chest or each time your lips brushed its ceramic face for a goodnight kiss, he wished it was him instead of his fake counterpart. He wished to be touched like that, to be cared for like that… By you.
Despite his ardent and ever-growing fondness for you, he stayed back, hidden behind the walls, only coming out when you were outside in the garden or asleep in your bed. He was afraid you'd be scared to see him, scared of him. That you would run away, leave him alone… He would not be able to bear it. No. You were his. His y/n. 
He'd stay hidden for you, content to watch you and admire you from a distance… fantasising about your touch, your warmth, your lips... 
You leaned down and gave the doll the mandatory goodnight kiss, drawing Brahms's attention back to you. A soft groan left his lips at the sight. Everything you did aroused him. It was an instant reaction. Even at that moment, he could already feel himself growing… 
"You know, Brahms?” 
His ears perked up at the sound of your voice. He eagerly leaned in against the wooden panel in the hope of hearing you better. 
“Sometimes I wish you were a real boy so that we would keep each other company in this big, scary house." 
You admitted with a little smile on your lips as you caressed the cold doll's face, and he almost lost it. He would have punched through the wall and wrapped his arms tight around you, right there and there, if only he could. Would you have accepted him? Without reservations? He had just heard you say you wished he was real… Would you have been happy to see him? To see that he was, in fact, very much real and just as desirous to keep you company.
The melodious sound of your chuckle drew his attention back to you, and he saw you shaking your head in amusement before you tucked the doll in and retreated towards the door to leave the room. 
Brahms ran after you without even a second thought, rushing through the maze behind the walls to follow your path.
You made it to your bedroom and started undressing yourself to get ready for bed. His breath caught in his throat; the sight of your bare body always made him twitch in need. Oh, how he would love to strip you out of your clothes at least once... His probing eyes raked over your curves, his breathing becoming ragged, while you slipped into your nightgown and crawled into your bed with a tired sigh. 
The light went out, and he hissed. It was difficult to watch you with the entire room enveloped in pitch-blackness, but at least he could make out your faint silhouette since that night the moon shone high in the sky, its kind rays gently illuminating your soft curves through the dark drapes.
He kept watching you for a while, making sure you fell asleep, making sure you were alright. 
As he was turning around to crawl back to his place and take care of himself, he heard a soft, muffled sound coming from your room. He immediately moved back to the hole to peek inside. 
You were stirring under the sheets. Were you having a bad dream? Or perhaps you couldn't fall asleep? 
He leaned in further, squinting through the gap in an attempt to see you better. More weak noises came out of you, causing him to frown in confusion. It didn't sound like you were in pain… But your breath came out in short gasps, as if you were having trouble with something.
Brahms felt his muscles tense up, his whole body urging him to follow his instincts and barge into the room to help you. 
“Ohh, f-fuck…f-fuck…”
The sound of your voice made him freeze on the spot, his eyes growing wide. He watched as your legs spread apart under the sheets and your body arched up slightly. He could see it clearly now; your arm hidden beneath the sheets, resting right between your thighs. 
It took all of his strength to hold back the deep grunt that was about to spill out of his mouth when he finally realised what was happening. His legs gave out, causing him to fall to the floor, but his hands muffled the thud by holding onto the wall, slowing down his fall.
He leaned his forehead against the wooden panels, his breathing shallow and his body trembling in restraint. His hand tentatively reached for his pants, while the other rested on the wall in front of him for support. He had to bite down on his lips to muffle a moan the moment he palmed himself from above the fabric. His bulge twitched, desperately screaming for attention but he knew he couldn't answer… He would make too much noise… and alert you… Scare you… No… He couldn't risk it… He had to wait… Wait until you finished and fell asleep… Only then… Only then he could… 
Reluctantly, he tore his hand away from his pants and rested it on the wall as well, going back to focus on the sight of you. Your voice was growing louder, and each single moan and whimper that escaped you went straight to his throbbing erection, making him grit his teeth. His hips started bucking up, thrusting into the air on their own accord, moving in unison with your own as if he was the one pleasuring you… hitting your most precious spot inside you instead of your fingers. 
He had to summon every ounce of willpower inside him to control himself and hold back when he heard you cry out in pleasure, your body spasming violently, shaken by waves of ecstasy. 
The muffled sound of his ragged breathing drowned out your sounds as it reverberated through his mask, his hot breath condensing into tiny drops on the cold ceramic. 
Brahms kept staring at you, raptured and shuddering with barely contained lust as you came down from your high and tucked yourself in again, ready to fall asleep this time. 
He nearly came only from watching you, or rather, hearing you. If he could have truly seen you, nothing could have prevented him from bursting inside his pants without even touching himself. It would have been so much better than what he was going through at that very moment —shivering, gasping for air, trying to remain silent, and not answering the urge to relieve himself. 
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He had to make sure you were asleep first.
MORE STORIES 🥀
[A.N: let me know if you would like to read part 2 of this...]
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[Also consider leaving a tip here on Tumblr or BUYING ME A ☕, if you particularly like what you read. Thank you! 🥀]
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wakkass · 6 months
Text
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I usually try to write neutral captions for my ATLA drawings, but this time I want to share my disappointment with this cartoon.
At first it was supposed to be a slight redesign of Katara from book 3. I don't really like her blue dress from there, and I tried to draw certain elements differently to understand what exactly bothered me. I like the result, especially her sleeves and the fabric on her arms. I also wanted to draw a crescent moon on her forehead because book 3 forgot that the Water Tribe paints their faces before battle. I wanted to give Katara something related to her personal experience, so imho she would have a crescent moon on her forehead in the invasion.
And then I started thinking about her hair (I ended up using the hairstyle from this post). It always confused me that in the first episode of season 3 Katara had her signature braid, because she lost her clips at the end of season 2. Where did the new ones come from? Does she have a whole set of spare ones? Or did father give it to her? I don’t understand, so I think that her hairstyle in book 3 could be completely different from the look we are used to.
Then I asked myself: what would she look like in the first episode if her hairstyle had been changed? You can see the answer for yourself. Frayed curls, an almost untied bun, a tired look… This is how I felt about Katara at the beginning of the season and… I was furious.
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Why doesn't she look like this? Why wasn't she allowed to show her fatigue? Yes, her clothes are still torn and unkempt, but neither her face nor her hair reflect her condition, why? Were the authors afraid to show that Katara also has limits?
Girls are not required to look beautiful and well-groomed, especially when they are tired. It makes me so angry that after her witnessing the death of a dear friend, escaping on a ship, caring for a sick boy for a long time, and then his screaming and running away, Katara looks the same as always. She is not tired, she is still ready to support the main character and run to the ends of the earth for him.
?!??!
But ok, maybe this is just the beginning, and we'll be shown reaching Katara's limits in the next episo-
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Oh, she is now completely neat and well-groomed so that the boy can admire her beauty…
It doesn't sound very good, to be honest. I don’t want to insult the ship or the main character, we’re not talking about them now. I'm talking about the very message where the girl is beautiful and mentally stable when it is convenient for the boy. That is, imagine if Katara looked at that moment about the same as in my drawing. Would he like her in this state? I don't know, because I haven't seen Aang admire Katara beyond the peak of her beauty. Also, I didn’t see him admiring her with disheveled hair, for example, or in action scenes. It’s not that it’s the characters’ fault, but rather that the authors rarely allow Katara herself to be like this, especially at the end of the adventure, where she clearly has little moral strength.
Feels like the message is that in a man's eyes, a woman is only beautiful when she dresses up and hides her flaws. As if fatigue is something that needs to be hidden behind a sweet smile and a beautiful outfit.
Maybe I'm not right. Please don't take my words as an insult to something you enjoy, but that is my interpretation of what is happening. This is a problem for me, because the topic of female fatigue in my eyes is as important as female strength. And if the series shows Katara's strength, it seems to ignore her fatigue.
This is just an opinion, I don't claim anything.
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Text
The Farmer's Daughter 9
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Walter Marshall
Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)
Part of the Backwoods AU
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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After the tense morning, you don't speak to Walter again that day. Or the next. When he arrives, he stays outside with his thermos of coffee and waits for Timothy. At the end of the day, he gives your brother an excuse about chores at home. Maybe not an excuse. He has been spending a lot of time around here.
Nearly a week after it happened, after everything changed, your mother appears in the kitchen with a crease in her forehead. You offer her a cup off coffee as she rubs her eyes. She yawns and and shakes her head.
“We'll grab a cup at the hospital,” she says, “you're father has a check-up. Timmy's taking us.”
“Oh?” You pour yourself a mug and lean on the counter, “I forgot.”
“Lots going on,” she sighs, “can't blame you for being distracted.”
“Uh, yeah, I guess,” you shrug.
“I called Walter, left a message,” she checks the clock hung above the door, “wouldn't be too bad if he did swing by, huh?”
“Hopefully he doesn't waste the time,” you grumble.
“Honey,” she chides playfully, “you know, I think your dad would approve… if he could. He always liked Walter.”
“Mom,” you frown, “please, I have enough to worry about.”
“Oh, I'm sorry,” she whines, “I'm just… looking for a little sunshine through the clouds.”
You wince, a pang of guilt between your ribs, “I'm sorry, mom, I just… Walter's nice. He helps so much and I think… I think maybe it's too much.”
“Don't I know it.  He is so generous. I gave him some money and I found the envelope in my purse,” she tuts, “you could do much worse. He… he could take care of you.”
You exhale, “mom.”
“Just listen,” her tone turns dire and her eyes gleam, “your pa can't. He's not gonna be able to ever again. I already know what the doc's gonna day and you shouldn't fool yourself. Walter won't help forever, not for no good reason. And next year, your pa won't be back on his tractor…” she sniffles and dabs her nose, “those days are behind us.”
“Ma, you don't know–”
“I do,” she utters solemnly, “I see the man I married but he's hollow. He's… a shell, honey. He's there but he's not really.”
“Oh, ma–”
“I'm just saying… we need to weigh our options. I'll look into selling if we gotta and Timmy, maybe he can go work with Walt–”
“Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?” You cross an arm around your middle.
“We shoulda been talking about this a week ago,” she shakes her head.
“Well, I can apply at the grocer or–”
“You do that,” she says, “but you think real hard. You got options,” she steps closer and cups your cheeks, “you're a pretty young thing. That doesn't last forever.”
You don't say a word as her greyness seeps into you. She draws away and you bow your head. You wait for her to go as you stare into the black depths of the coffee. You take a sip to try to chase away the ice in your veins but it only sends a shiver through you.
🌾
Your parents go off with Timmy in the truck. You set to sweeping the porch to keep yourself busy. Your mother's words ring in your ears. She can't be serious, there's more out there than the farm. Pa always said as much and you don't think he meant Walter.
As you get to the steps, the distant rumble of an engine rolls over the ground. You turn as gravel grits under treads and Walter's large truck lazily rocks along the bumpy road. You still the straw broom and grip the handle as he pulls up. Did he not get your mother's message?
He lingers in the truck as you squint against the sunlight. His door pops open and he jumps down, sending up a cloud of dust. He goes around the bed of the truck and opens the back.
He slides out a sheet of wood and drags it towards you. You watch in confusion as he stops and leans it against the side of the porch. His eyes meet yours and his brows furrow.
“Morning,” he checks his watch, “barely.”
“Morning, Mr. Marshall,” you eke out.”
His eyes flash and he nods. He turns and marches back to the truck, pulling out several planks before carrying them over. You watch him as you lean on the broom.
“What are you doing?” You ask.
He stops and looks up at you. He points to your feet and flicks his finger up, “building a ramp. For your dad.”
You look down at your slips flecked in dirt and stray strands of straw, “oh? Didn't ma call–”
“She didn't ask,” he says bluntly. 
Your lips slant and you tilt your head, “that's real nice.”
“Yeah well, I'm a nice guy,” he huffs and spins on the heel of his boots, stomping away once more.
He goes back to the truck and retrieves his toolbox. His agitation roils off his tense shoulders and the stone set in his jaw. You're too afraid to ask but you do need to. He has been avoiding you.
“Well, I'll stay out of your way,” you lift the broom and back up the stairs. “If you need anything–”
“Not in the way,” he says curtly as he takes out a measuring tape.
“Oh, I know but I wouldn't wanna bother–”
“I don't mind,” he shrugs as he steps onto the stairs and measures the angle over them.
“Right, of course, do you need anything? A glass of water or–”
“Seems like I'm the one bothering,” he stands and lets the tape retract harshly.
“No?” You bat your lashes at him, “I didn't say that, Mr.--”
“Walt,” he growls, “you know what I like best in a woman. Honesty. So why don't you be honest and tell me what you really feel?”
“I…” you gulp, “Walter, er, Walt, I… I'm just… confused.”
“Don't act like a child. We both know you're not,” he crosses his arms over his broad chest. You've seen him angry before but it's never been aimed at you. 
“I… I don't know what to say. I'm sorry.”
“Sorry. Okay,” he shakes his head and unfolds his arms, going back to measuring, “I'm open to talking when you wanna be an adult.”
You flinch as you watch him. He grits his teeth, ignoring your presence as he focuses on his work. You turn, hiding the hurt deep in your chest. You never meant to hurt him but you really don't know. As much as you try to wade through your feelings, you only feel as if you're drowning in them.
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silent-stories · 9 months
Text
𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍
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Pairing: Eddie x GN!Reader
Summary: Eddie can't sleep and you find out it's because he has to go back to school after his name was cleared.
Warnings: angst, fluff, mention of scars and bullying
Note: everything i write lately feels just so stupid and without any emotion so i don’t really know how to feel about this :')
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When you woke up you immediately realized that something had changed, that something was wrong and when you turned around in bed and found an empty space next to you you understood what it was: Eddie was no longer with you.
Eddie, who would be back in school the next day after the Upside Down and after Hopper cleared his name.
The sheet slipped off your body as you got out of bed, you grabbed one of the shirts Eddie had left on a chair, and slipped it on as you walked down the short corridor of his trailer.
You found him sitting in the dark of the kitchen corner and, if it hadn't been for the moonbeams filtering through the window, you probably wouldn't have even seen him.
He was staring at an indefinite point in front of him, as if absorbed in his deepest thoughts.
"Eddie?" you softly asked, walking slowly towards him.
He snapped his head up, relaxing and slightly smiling seeing you. "Hey sweetheart. I woke you up didn't I? The walls are so thin you can hear every little noise here."
When you reached him, stopping in front of him still sitting on the chair, he didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist and push you close to him, between his legs.
"It's not because you made noise, Teddie. My boy wasn't next to me anymore, I could feel it."
He rested his head on your chest for a moment. "I'm sorry." He murmured then.
"Don't be. What woke you up?"
"Fear." His voice was shaky.
"Fear of what?" You reached out a hand, rubbing his shoulder and drawing circles with your thumb, as if to calm him down.
"Of going back there." His voice was thin and almost frightened, like a child's afraid to go to the doctor.
"Eddie-"
"Don't tell me everything will be fine, I know it won't. Those people treated me like shit before everything happened, I can't even imagine what they'll do tomorrow when I'll be back at school. Because even if your cop friend told everyone I was innocent, for the rest of the town I'll always be the responsible, the murderer, the freak. They wanted me dead before, now they want it even more." His eyes were watery and his hands on his waist were now gripping the Metallica shirt you'd put on a few minutes before, as if he was afraid you were going to run away, tired of all the problems being with him entailed.
"So please don't tell me everything will be fine, that no one will yell at me when I'll walk down the hallway tomorrow and that I won't find my locker covered in indelible writing and etchings because I know people can be so fucking mean. And I know tomorrow they will be." His tone wasn't angry, he sounded more defeated, and tired.
Your hand on his shoulder gently moved a few inches, finding the base of his neck and continued to gently caress the scarred skin there.
"I'm not saying that."
Eddie tilted his head slightly, like a puppy who doesn't understand what's going on.
"I'm not saying it will be easy. But I'm saying I'll be there with you. I'm saying that I'm going to sit next to you in every class and we'll walk down those goddamn hallways together. You won't be alone, okay?"
There you were again, showing him what it felt like to be cared for. To be loved. Eddie thought he'd never really get used to that.
He slowly stood up, his hands on your waist softly pushing you against him as he wrapped his arms around you. He left a kiss on your hairline before resting his chin on your head and standing there in the middle of the trailer, just holding you.
"I'm just so fucking scared." He mumbled against your hair.
"I know" your hand gently stroked his back. "I'll be with you. We'll be with you and I won't let them hurt you."
Eddie knew that by "we" you meant all of Hellfire and Corroded Coffin as well.
After a few moments he placed his hands on your shoulders to slightly pull you away so that he could see you in the eyes, and then cupped your face with his hands. His thumbs gently ran on your cheeks.
It was weird not feeling the sensation of the rings that he took off just to go to bed against your skin.
"I love you so much, you know that, right?" He asked, now softly smiling at you.
"You tell me that only about a hundred times a day, so I'm not sure yet."
He chuckled and you loved that sound.
You reached up, your thumb carefully traced the outline of his lower lip, engraving the image of him to your heart forever.
His eyes were sparkling in the dark, his skin was lightly illuminated by the moonlight, the scars on his arms and neck looked silver in it and his hair was a total mess but you knew it was one of the softest things you've ever touched in your entire life.
He leaned towards your touch. "I'll say it again then: I love you."
"I live you too." You giggled. "And with that, we should be at hundred and one."
The answer you got was the feeling of his soft lips molding together with yours in a sweer kiss that was somewhere between a way to tell you he loved you and a way to shut you up.
"How about we go back to bed and you try to sleep again?" You asked.
He nodded as your hand slipped into his, as it would every time in the school parking lot until you entered the classroom.
You walked down the corridor again and reached his room.
There, when Eddie rested his head on your stomach and wrapped his arms around you as you ran your fingers through his hair and caressed his back, he thought it didn't matter what happened the next day, what other people said or how they looked at him. You were with him, the Hellfire was with him, his friends, his family was with him and they wouldn't leave him and that was all he really needed.
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Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon
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eswel · 7 months
Text
The Gojo memorial: the whole story
You may already seen that here in Chile people created a shrine in the subway in order to honour Satoru Gojo. I'll try to recreate the entire chain of events as far as I could gather in social media for everyone's convenience, so you can read about the whole thing in just one post. Buckle up, because we're in for a ride, this story is really good. More under the cut.
Thursday (september 21)
There was an advertisement by Crunchyroll promoting the series at some subway stations. A few people decided to bring some flowers and messages as offering to the character.
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The thing started to quickly escalate and soon more people started to leave messages, flowers and candles.
I remember seeing a picture of someone from the staff of Metro cleaning the offerings with a broom. I tried to search for it now, but I can't find it anymore. It got buried by the flood of tweets.
*Edit* I found the picture. Someone shared it again.
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Friday (september 22)
The next day the memorial became huge. You may think that people were being serious about the whole thing of setting a memorial , but most messages and drawings were humourous. A few of them:
"Steal the sky"
"Paradise won an angel"
"The sky is bluer because of your eyes"
"Fly high"
"The moon will be more beautiful with you up there"
"You'll be the brightest star"
"You broke my heart in two"
"Exorcise the sky"
"You gave everything, my king"
"Gojo lives"
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There was even drawings making fun of what happened to him. People patched him up with band-aids and tape. Well, that's our kind of humour, we chileans can have a dark sense of humour.
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Even some people in cosplay showed up.
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In the late hours of the day, the security guards started to dismantle the shrine, just like the previous day. Then they were assigned to custody the advertisement.
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Saturday (september 23)
The next morning Metro changed their minds and allowed the messages and drawings, but they said that candles were forbidden, because they're dangerous. Understandable.
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The event had started to make it to the online versions of the news media, but also in the print version for it appeared on the front page of one of the major newspapers. They dedicated 3 pages surrounding the whole thing. One for the memorial itself, one for the cultural importance of the religious practice known as "animitas" and one for the social impact of anime.
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The shrine continued to grow and people started to leave other offerings like sunglasses and even gummies and chocolates. You see, in our culture when people set up animitas usually they leave things that the person liked. I've never seen this anime and I don't know the character. Does he likes candy? You guys tell me.
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Sunday (september 24)
By the time I'm writing this post is sunday. I heard the rumour that Crunchyroll called Metro to retire the advertisement, but I cannot confirm if this is true or not. Also, I have the feeling that the whole situation can even appear on TV, considering that we have 2 TV channels dedicated solely to anime, but that would be on monday. We'll see. If I see any new development in the saga of the Gojo memorial I'll update this post.
UPDATE:
Part 2
Part 3
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lovelybrooke · 22 days
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Would the hotel gang take advantage of when the reader returns to earth to take a look at the drawings and what the reader writes in the sketchbook out of curiosity or would they prefer to respect the reader's privacy?
Someone asked for more Charlie and Vaggie stuff so here this is. Might be a little short but I am in so much pain so apologizes for that
masterlist
---
Charlie felt like she was going to cry, she missed you so much. 
Her eyes welled with tears as she gazed down at drawing after drawing, all of the hotel staff. These were the only things she had left of you, and now you were gone.These silly little doodles were all she's got. 
"Don't worry Charlie, they'll be back soon." Vaggie was here, trying her best to comfort her partner, rubbing her back as she knelt on the ground, papers in hand. 
"I-I know" She mumbles, eyes glued onto the drawings. "I-it's just--was it my fault?" She whispers, finally looking up to her girlfriend. Her eyes were wide and full with guilt, and it made Vaggie frown with deep sadness. 
"No, no, of course not Charlie!" Vaggie reassured her, pulling Charlie into a deep hug. Every sniffle Charlie let out broke her heart a little bit more. 
"Then why would they leave?" Charlie asks again, voice low. In truth, Vaggie didn't have an answer. She tries her hardest to remember what you were like before you left. You were distant and quiet, more so than normal. It scared her a bit, seeing you so not like yourself. 
"(Y/n)..." She approached you one day in the lobby, near the fireplace. You were staring directly into the fire, your gaze unmoving even when she approached. After a few seconds, she sat down next to you. You didn't move. "Are you okay?" 
You don't respond for a while, and Vaggie thinks you might have not heard her. Though eventually, your quiet voice breaks the silence. "Yeah--I'm fine." You say, your voice blank and devoid of emotion. 
Your voice ripples through Vaggie's ears and sends a shiver down her spine, you definitely weren't okay. "Are you sure? You seem--" She didn't know the right word, distant, lost, dazed? 
You don't wait for her to finish her sentence, "Vaggie, do you ever get scared?" 
Vaggie tilts her head "scared of what?" 
You finally move, looking down at the floor. Your brows furrow, like you're in deep thought. "Of everything." You whisper. 
Vaggie thinks for a second, "sometimes" she responds. "Sometimes I get so scared--it feels like I can't breathe." She says, watching as your eyes move towards her. They were wide and she could see tears threatening to spill over. 
"How do you deal with it?" You question, nearly begging. 
She sighs, slowly moving her hand to rub your arm. It was awkward, but she could feel you start to relax. "For a while I did nothing." She thinks of life before Charlie, before having that support system. "And then I met Charlie, and suddenly I had someone I could go to, when I felt like everything was too much." Your breathing calmed down and your tears were dry. 
"You know you can come to us." Vaggie reminds you. "If--If anything ever happens, you can come to us, please come to us." 
You don't say anything, instead you move back, away from Vaggie and return to gazing into the fire. Vaggie couldn't describe how she felt if she wanted to, hurt, scared, disappointed. 
But it was all in the past now. 
Vaggie wished she would have done something to help you. To make you feel better. She wishes she could've seen the signs before you decided to do something like this. 
As she hugs her girlfriend, she feels that same feeling wash over her, the hurt, the fear, the disappointment. "I don't know Charlie." She says. "I don't know why they left."
"But we'll find them. I promise."
---
A/n; This didn't focus on the drawings and was kinda sad, sorry.
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theneighborhoodwatch · 2 months
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thoughts on the Eddie scene from the end of the commercial reel? :D
HAHA oh man. okay while i'm waiting on the results of that poll, i might as well answer this. thoughts under the cut:
so, this may be me being optimistic, but i actually don't think this is indicative of eddie being permadead or anything, and not just because i think it'd be kinda cheap to kill a character off this early into the story before we even got to really know them. rather, i think this is a pretty straightforward explanation for eddie's absence from the homewarming recordings: he spent most of the day in his office waiting to be called on, only got invited to the homewarming party once everyone else had wrapped up their shenanigans, and proceeded to disassociate so hard that he was borderline catatonic when frank managed to draw his attention away from whatever he saw when he looked beyond the veil - and it's implied that frank was the only (or at least, the first) person to notice his acute distress in the first place. in short, eddie's presence throughout the entire holiday of homewarming ended up being so inconsequential either way that he might as well have not even been worth mentioning. of course, if he is missing by the next update then like. egg on my face. but that's how i see it for now.
so, is The Void that eddie found himself in when he first opened his eyes real? i mean, certainly on some level, it must be. either it's the truth of the neighbors' world or it is simply true for home, since they were the only other entity there - and since home is at the center of their world, well...... . as for what the void represents - i feel like that's something we'll only have a clearer picture of once another character finds themselves in The Bullshit, but i can hazard a few guesses, the first and most obvious being that it's eddie accidentally piercing the veil by being just a little too OOC for the universe's liking, i.e. "silly mailman, you're the resident workaholic! you're not actually supposed to relax, that's just so this special can end!" the second interpretation - and one that i like just a bit more, if i'm being honest - is that it's a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy, or that distress over a deviation from the status quo makes one more susceptible to The Horrors.
hear me out: we know from the previous show scenes in the commercial reel that feeling useless or unneeded by way of having no work to do is a really easy way to get under eddie's skin, and his agitation over that was still lingering when sally invited him to the homewarming party. he's optimistic, yes - but very cautiously so. he's not used to it. something still feels a little wrong, which presents a prime opportunity for Something (home?) to wrap their arm around his shoulder and go, "buddy, you have no fucking idea." i remember reading a post that went something like "if a person goes from 1 to 100 seemingly out of nowhere, chances are they were at a 99 for a really long time, and they were just either hiding it or didn't even realize it." i think it's something like that. Something - home? wally? one of those two acting on the other's behalf? - sees this dissatisfaction, and in it, finds an opportunity to Make Them See. Make Them Understand.
something else i can't stop thinking about is that final shot of frank at the end. on the one hand, yes, it is very sweet how frank is willing to break away from formality if it means making sure that eddie's alright. on the other hand, though.... that shot of frank feels very idolizing to me. in the sea of red, frank is the one remnant of when things were fine and dandy for eddie just a few minutes before. he's in the center of the shot, and for that split second, arguably the center of eddie's world. they're even haloed by light, like an angel. again, whether they're in a properly established relationship by this point or if this is the beginning of their relationship turning from a playful flirtationship to something deeper, it's sweet to think that this is how eddie sees frank - as a refuge from The Bullshit. but i have to wonder... is eddie prepared for the possibility (or inevitability, rather) that one day, it'll be frank in that chair? given how frank likes things "just so," how is eddie going to react if, say, frank decides that the best way to ensure eddie's safety/wellbeing is to stay away from him? Many Questions Here.
[remembers that i suggested lower one's eyes as eddie's answer to frank's esperar pra ver once] [remembers that lower one's eyes is about a judas analogue being in love with a jesus analogue] [coughs up blood]
on that note, i know some folks think that at least some parts of "bug-a-bye and goodnight" are about eddie because "that's not the kind of thing you say about a bug!!!" but the thing about that is. it might not be what you would say about a bug. but it is absolutely what frank would say about a bug.
ok i'm done. For Now.
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