#But doesn't it feel like that should be a little more clear

[nyancrimew]

I’m sorry but how can you be so proud of yourself for taking this moment to write an essay that boils down to “Don’t bother engaging in collective action, you should just do what makes you feel good with your friends :)”

Like, there is no world in which going to a concert advances a cause more than participating in a union or political party. How can you be so detached from historical and material reality? Nobody who advocates for political organization is saying “also stop spending time with your friends and interfacing with your community.”

Have fun limiting your “organizing” to shallow little playtime in nice cozy Switzerland while the rest of us try to address injustices and atrocities through collective action. I hope you decide to join us, eventually.

the essay does not actually boil down to this, at least this definitely isn't the point of it. this would be a very fair critique if that actually were what im trying to say but it just straight up isn't.

my essay focuses on how just saying to "get organized" or "join xy org" doesn't really help most people actually find their space in a movement, it's about how building friendships both within and outside the movement is important for setting foot in it and how people's morale tends to be forgotten in some political orgs (which i find sad) which leads to burnout and orgs that fall apart.

i think my essay makes it pretty clear that collective action is the goal but focuses on what's also important in the here and now, leaving people helpless and hopeless helps no movement.

i do a lot of things in radical spaces that i don't publicly talk about online, to just assume i have no actual involvement in any on the ground stuff just because you misread my essay and disagree with it is frankly insulting. you are free to disagree with me, i don't think anyone will ever fully agree on theory anyways, but at least try to be honest in your engagement with what i wrote.

[moonstruckme]

hi love I like all ur fics!!! Ur most recent emt Maurader made me realize tho we don't always get to see Sirius being vulnerable so what about a fic where may be he's having an off day? Or runs into a cousin and they completely ignore him and he tries to act like it doesn't bother him and just reader comforting him and giving him space

Thank you for requesting angel!

cw: allusion to past abuse, discussion of toxic workplace dynamics

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Sirius gets home from work early. You’re in the bedroom, stomach-down on the mattress with your book in front of you. You hear the front door open and come out to greet your boyfriend, but your smile falls when you see him. 

Sirius’ face is red. He doesn’t usually color when he’s upset, so you take it to mean something that he has now. He steps on the back of his shoe a couple of times before he manages to get it off, stomps on the back of the other even more harshly. You think he might be shaking. 

“Sirius?” 

He flinches. Turning around, his expression twinges with some mix of emotions at seeing you, too muddled to parse apart. He seals them all away quickly. 

You take a step towards him. “You okay?” 

“Yeah.” It comes out hoarse. Sirius clears his throat. “Yeah. Just a shit day at work.” 

“You’re home early,” you note. 

Sirius nods curtly. You think maybe that’s that, but his expression is conflicted. 

“Do you wanna sit down?” you ask gently, going to the couch and hoping he’ll follow. He does. It’s a challenge not to reach for his hand, to pull him closer or offer some kind touch, but the stiffness about Sirius’ frame hints that it may not be well received right now. 

When he’s still silent after a moment, you say, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I could make tea and we could just relax.” 

Sirius shakes his head. “It’s okay,” he says, tersely, like he might be trying to convince himself more than you. “I think I’m probably going to be fired, though.” 

You feel your eyebrows go up. 

“I…you know how I got a new boss a few weeks ago?” 

You nod mutely. 

“Right, well, she’s got a temper. At least a couple times a week I’ll hear her shouting at someone in her office and she’s already managed to fire from almost every team.” Your dread mounts as Sirius goes on, speaking faster now that he’s on a roll. “She called me in after lunch. I fucked up something in a report—I hadn’t checked it and it had gotten sent out with the error—and she was pissed. She screamed at me—really screamed, stood up and got red in the face and all that—for probably ten minutes before she sent me back to my desk. And I just came home.” Sirius lets out a dry chuckle. “If she doesn’t fire me, I might quit.” 

“You should, baby.” Your voice pitches with dismay, hurt and outrage for him warring inside you. You take a chance and reach for his hand. Sirius fits his fingers between yours instinctively, something seeming to loosen in him at the touch. “I can’t believe she really shouted at you. No one deserves that, least of all for a silly error in a report. She should be fired for that.” 

Sirius gives you a little smile, but it dissolves at the edges, watery. A cavity opens in your chest as his eyes grow shiny. 

“Baby.” 

He shakes his head, jaw clenched. Blinking. “Sorry,” he says roughly. “I never used to do this.” You feel your face pinch with sympathy. He means cry, you know. Sirius as an adult is more emotional than he was as a child, but you still rarely see him cry. “She just—she sounded just like my mother.” 

Realization comes like a blow to your middle. “Oh, my love,” you say breathlessly, moving to put your arms around him. 

Sirius usually hugs with his whole being. He throws himself into it, with force and purpose and his own rough brand of caring. So you’re used to letting him take the lead, but now, when his arms come around you hesitantly, you’re the one who applies the pressure. And Sirius melts against you. 

You cup the back of his neck in one hand and squeeze between his shoulders with the other, imagining your love pouring out of you and into him through your palms. Sirius is quiet, but you feel a couple of hot tears transfer from his chin to your shirt. You worry he’s holding his breath. 

“Sirius.” You say his name with all the tenderness you can summon, afraid of him hearing echoes of his mother’s voice. “I’m so sorry, lovely. You never, ever deserve to be shouted at that way.” 

“Even if I told you I left your favorite mug at my office?” he jokes weakly. 

You let him go. There aren’t many tears to brush off his cheeks, and you make short work of them, soothing your thumbs over his face just for the sake of it. Surprisingly, his complexion is less agitated than it had been when he’d come in. He was holding it in, you realize. 

“Don’t ever let me speak to you like that,” you say.

Sirius’ expression sobers. “You wouldn’t. I know you wouldn’t.” 

“Really. Leave me if I talk to you like that, I’m serious.” 

“No, that’s me.” 

One side of your mouth tips up without your consent. “Bad joke.” 

Sirius mirrors you, grinning halfheartedly. “You think you’d have learned to evade it by now.” 

You gather that he wants things to be light now. That’s okay. You know Sirius has a difficult time with the truly heavy emotions—anger is an instinct for him, but tears and sorrow he’s never known what to do with. You’ll talk about it more over time, in bits and pieces where he’s comfortable. And just because you’re letting it go now doesn’t mean you’re done coddling him. 

You let your hands coast down from his face to either side of his neck, massaging gently the tension in his shoulders. “Did you really bring my favorite mug to work?” 

Sirius’ smile goes a tad sheepish. “Yes?” 

“Why would you do that?” 

“Because it makes me think of my most favorite sweetheart when I get coffee from the break room,” he says, smarmy. “Also, it was the first one I saw when I went to grab one from our cabinet.” 

You smile at him. Sirius pretends at facetiousness, but you know the first reason had been the genuine one. 

“What,” he asks, “you didn’t notice it was missing?” 

“No, I did. I only thought you’d broken it.” 

“And you weren’t going to say anything?” 

“What’d be the point?” 

A soft, intimate look comes over Sirius’ face. “I don’t deserve you,” he says, gray eyes raw and quiet, “do I?” 

You match his tone. “Of course you do, lovely. You deserve better than me, it’s just I’m what you’ve got.” 

“Mm, there’s another way you’re not allowed to speak.” He wraps his arms around you, pressing a heavy-fond kiss to your hairline. “I won’t have any of that talk.” 

“I’ll trade you that for the jokes about your name.” 

“No, I don’t think so. You’re going to have to work a little harder, doll, I’m not giving those up so easily.”

[piastrisun]

unexpected confession.

pairings: lando norris + fem reader.

summary: as the elevator stalls, so does your composure. lando’s sudden, earnest words turn the trapped moment into a delicate dance between panic and possibility.

genre: fluff.⠀word count: 1k.⠀ warning: none.

notes: lando’s birthday!!! a bit short but i hope y’all like it. <3 no use of y/n or any names at all.

you and lando are standing in the elevator, the air uncomfortably still, and the space around you both feels too small. the elevator’s hum seems louder now, echoing in the confined space. the flickering light above does little to calm the rising tension between you two, as your body instinctively shifts to press against the corner.

you’ve never thought much about how close you are to each other—how every small movement feels amplified in this moment. it's as if your very proximity makes the silence heavier. your mind races, trying to distract itself from the fact that you're alone in an elevator, stuck for what feels like forever. it should be mundane, but with lando here, everything suddenly feels too intense.

and then, he breaks the stillness, his voice barely above a whisper but loud enough to shake you out of your thoughts. "i don’t want to die without telling you this."

your heart skips a beat, and a chill runs down your spine. the sudden panic floods you, and you whip your head to face him, your eyes wide, your breath catching in your throat. “what?! what are you talking about? are we—are we dying?”

his face goes pale as he stammers, looking more flustered than you've ever seen him. his hands hover over the elevator buttons as though he can fix the situation with the press of a few keys. “no! no, of course not… well, i mean, i don’t think so. but listen, it’s important.” he avoids your gaze, the nervous energy practically crackling between you.

you let out a shaky, almost panicked laugh, trying to control the rapid beat of your heart. “lando, this is not the time for dramatic confessions! you’re freaking me out!”

he shifts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes dart around the elevator. you can tell he’s struggling to keep it together, his body stiff with the weight of whatever he's about to say. “i love you. i always have. and i’m sorry for not saying it sooner.”

you freeze, your body going rigid. the words land with such weight that you can’t process them fast enough. your jaw falls open, and your mouth feels dry as you blink a few times, as if trying to clear the fog in your brain. "wait, what? you love me? you’ve… always loved me?" you can’t quite wrap your mind around it, your voice coming out in a whisper, disbelief taking over. your hands tremble, and your heart is pounding so hard you swear he can hear it. "are you—are you serious right now? do you think we’re going to die in this elevator?"

“no! no, i don’t think we’re dying! i mean, not right now.” lando sighs dramatically, dropping his shoulders in exasperation as he leans back against the elevator wall, seemingly giving up on fixing anything. “but… look, i just needed to say it, okay? i didn’t want to leave with it unsaid. so, if we do die, well… at least you know.”

his words hang in the air like a strange confession, one that doesn't quite make sense given the circumstances. but even then, a knot of warmth stirs in your chest, a strange mix of emotions you’re not ready to confront.

you step back, crossing your arms tightly over your chest as if trying to shield yourself from what’s happening. you narrow your eyes at him, your lips curling into a teasing frown. “so, this is your plan? we get stuck in an elevator for five minutes and suddenly you’ve decided to unload your feelings?”

he groans, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. he slumps against the wall, letting out a breath like he's trying to deflate from the awkwardness. “this wasn’t exactly the moment i planned, okay? but i’ve been holding it in for years, and if you do kill me with that glare, at least i’ll go knowing i said it.”

you bite back a smile, your eyes narrowing in mock judgment. you raise an eyebrow as you lean toward him. “glare? i’m just trying to process this. you’ve have fancied me all this time, and you never said anything?”

his shoulders tense, and he rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze as if searching for some way to escape. “i wasn’t sure if you felt the same. i thought maybe you’d think i was, i don’t know, creepy or something.” his voice cracks slightly, a nervous chuckle escaping him. he looks down at his shoes, his embarrassment clear. “but now here we are. stuck in this tiny box together, one awkward cough away from the end of our lives…”

you can’t help but laugh, the sound light and a little shaky as you step forward, your lips curling into a playful smirk. “well, lucky for you, i don’t think you’re creepy. and maybe… just maybe… i’ve had a few feelings too.”

his eyes widen, his mouth slightly agape, disbelief written all over his face. his voice falters for a moment, but it’s full of hope. “wait, what?!”

you laugh softly, the playful edge to your voice not masking the sudden warmth in your chest. "you think i’m just going to throw myself at you after you drop that bomb? i’m not that easy, lando."

his eyes light up, his expression shifting from surprise to sheer delight. he takes a step closer, his grin impossibly wide as he leans in, his voice filled with teasing excitement. “oh, really? because if we do get stuck here a little longer, i can think of a few ways to pass the time…” his gaze flickers down to your lips before meeting your eyes again, mischievous and full of playful challenge.

you roll your eyes dramatically, trying to maintain some semblance of control over your emotions, but the smile you can’t hide betrays you. "you’re unbelievable."

lando shrugs, his grin growing even wider as he leans back, arms crossing in mock defense. his eyes dance with a mix of humor and genuine affection. "i do try."

©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 24’.

[queenshelby]

The Peaky Role (Part Eight)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Best Friend's Dad, Some Smu

CILLIAN'S POV

Later that day, at Cillian's house, during dinner, laughter and chatter filled the air as Nina, Cillian, and her siblings gathered around the table while Danielle had gone away for the weekend.

The aroma of roasted vegetables and herbs wafted through the kitchen, mingling with the sound of silverware clinking against plates after Cillian had prepared dinner. Making dinner was a ritual for him, a way to channel the noise of the world into something quiet and nourishing.

"What's for dessert?" Cillian's son, Max, asked, his eyes wide with hope as he pushed his plate away, his stomach still rumbling with anticipation.

“It's a surprise," Cillian grinned before diving into a serving of broccoli.

Nina raised an eyebrow, playfully skeptical. “Please let it be chocolate pudding. If it’s anything like the last time, I might cry.”

Cillian chuckled, a hint of mischief sparkling in his blue eyes. “Oh come on, my creme brûlée was a culinary masterpiece!"

Nina rolled her eyes dramatically. “Masterpiece? That was more like an abomination!" she teased Cillian feigned offense, dramatically clutching his chest.

"Now eat your vegtables guys, otherwise you won't be having dessert," he warned, adopting the classic 'dad voice' that made his children giggle.

"What is the dessert though, dad? I want to make sure me eating the broccoli is worth it," Max demanded, a playful grin on his face.

Cillian leaned back with amusement. "I just bought magnums," he announced, grinning as his kids cheered in unison, letting out whoops of joy that echoed off the walls, seeing how this was their favourite.

After dinner, Nina helped Cillian clear the table while her siblings rushed toward the living room, their excitement palpable as they imagined the sweet reward to come.

“Dad, can I ask you something?” Nina asked as she stacked some dishes into the dishwasher.

Cillian turned, wiping his hands on a towel. “Of course, what is it?” he asked, his brow furrowed slightly, concern flickering in his blue eyes.

Nina shifted, glancing toward the livingroom where her siblings had settled into the couch, their animated voices filling the room as they debated what movie to watch.

"I had breakfast with Y/N today, you know?” she said, biting her lip as she felt the weight of both her concern and her curiosity.

Cillian’s expression darkened slightly. “And?" he asked with a mixture of fatherly instinct and curiosity swirling within him.

“She is going through a little rough patch with her boyfriend,” Nina confessed, crossing her arms tighter, as if warding off any impending judgment. “And I was just wondering whether you could cut her some slack next week on set in case things take a turn for the worse.”

Cillian’s expression softened, understanding intersecting with concern. “Is James being... difficult again?” he asked as he shifted his weight, leaning against the counter, exuding an air of protective authority.

He had met him a few times before, at your house and it was no secret to him that the two of you were having problems.

“Ugh, you wouldn't believe it," Nina said, rolling her eyes. "He keeps hounding her about driving down to Cork to see him, like it’s the end of the world if she doesn’t drop everything. I mean, she is only here for the weekend and he expects her to drive down there to see him. She should just dump him, don't you think?" she continued, exasperation creeping into her voice.

Cillian frowned, his expression turning serious. "Well, she’s got a career to think about. This is an important time for her," he said, feeling a wave of protectiveness wash over him. "But in the end of the day, what she does with her life is her choice and it doesn't matter what either of us think about it.”

Nina huffed, pushing back a piece of hair that had escaped her ponytail. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re… well, old...," Nina shot back, trying to point out that he was at a different stage of life than her and you.

Cillian raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile. “Old?” he repeated, pretending to be offended. “I prefer ‘seasoned’,” he quipped, arching an eyebrow. “But seriously, you’ve got to let her figure this one out for herself. She is a smart young woman and, if shit does hit the fan, then I am quite certain that she will still perform on set," Cillian added, his tone shifting from playful to earnest. “She’s got enough talent for that,” he continued, hands tucked into his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe.

Nina sighed deeply before nodding. "I just wanted you to be aware so that you can keep an eye on her. You know, in case she needs someone to talk to and she said that you are the only one she knows. She can be a bit stubborn about these things.”

“Stubborn, huh?” Cillian chuckled, his eyes glinting with humor. “I've noticed quite a bit of that lately and I can tell you that she doesn't really socialise much on set either," he admitted before pushing off the counter, leaning slightly closer. “But yeah, I will keep an eye on her at work, just in case."

Nina relaxed a little, her shoulders dropping. “Thanks, Dad," she then said, a small smile breaking through her earlier tension. “That means a lot. Just… don’t be too dad-like."

Cillian laughed and held his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright!" he said, his grin breaking through the tension before finishing up the dishes.

After Cillian and Nina cleaned up, they both settled down with Nina's siblings on the couch, where the kids had already searched through a selection of films, finally deciding on a light-hearted adventure flick.

After the movies everyone then went to their room, calling it a night and as they retreated to their bedrooms, the hallway filled with the soft sounds of yawning and shuffling.

Cillian, too, was tired after such a full day, but sleep eluded him. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, shadows shifting as the moonlight filtered through the curtains.

Just like the last two nights, thouughts of you crept into his mind, swirling around like leaves caught in a storm. Your laughter, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about music, and that moment on the plane when you clutched his hand as turbulence rattled through the cabin like a rogue wave. He replayed the feel of your small fingers wrapped around his, the warmth of your palm breaking through the chill of the flight.

“Damn,” he muttered quietly to himself, shifting beneath the covers as he tried to banish the thoughts. What was happening to him? The questions looped in Cillian's mind like an endless song, each note tinged with an unsettling mix of desire and confusion. He turned over, seeking comfort in the familiar folds of his sheets that, instead, felt like a prison, reminding him of all the boundaries he was treading on and, just as he almost managed to drift off, the memory of your sscene together interrupted the silence in his mind—an image he couldn't shake.

You, atop him, the softness of your skin brushed with the innocent thrill of pretending. The awkwardness of it all felt like a double-edged sword; on one hand, it was simply acting, something he had done countless times before, yet on the other, it struck a nerve deeper than any role had.

The sound of your moans floated through his mind, echoing against the walls of his memory like a haunting melody. He pictured the way your hair cascaded over your bare breasts, with each adjustment made by the crew, the intimacy of the moment growing more palpable. He could almost feel the heat radiating from your skin as you leaned closer, teasing him with a hint of vulnerability and just like that, Cillian felt the weight of it—an undeniable pull toward you that tethered him to his own desires and unease.

For the past few nights, he had managed to push away those thoughts, silencing them under the guise of exhaustion, but now, in the stillness of his room, this desire he had was all too raw, too real.

He imagined what it would be like to touch you, to taste your lips as he covered your body with his own. He imagined what  you would feel like beneath him, your body trembling and arching against his as he entered you, your moans and gasps matching his own. His pulse quickened as he pictured the look of pure ecstasy on your face, your eyes alight with desire and satisfaction.

The vision was almost too much for him to bear, his hand sliding down towards his boxers  as his body responded in kind.

He closed his eyes, imagining your fingers brushing against the bulge in his briefs, the fabric straining against him as you stroked him, drawing him in, fueling his need for you.

Cillian groaned, letting out a string of swear words as he felt himself getting harder, and he knew that he had to relieve himself  . With one swift motion, he pushed his boxers down, his throbbing erection springing free.

In the dark solitude of his room, he let his imagination take over, picturing you in front of him, wanting him as much as he wanted you.

"Fuck," he moaned, taking himself into his hand and stroking slowly, building up the tension that already coursed through his veins. He could almost smell your hair or feel its silky softness between his fingers.

His mind had become his worst enemy, but he couldn’t help it––he imagined you begging for it, your body exposed under the soft glow of his bedside lamp.

Slowly, he began to get lost in the fantasy, his breaths getting heavy as he stroked himself faster, imagining the shape of your hips and waist beneath his hands.

“God,” he murmured to himself, the thought of being inside you setting his body on fire. He couldn’t stop himself, his mouth spilling obscenities as he grew closer to release.

“This is fucking killing me!" he whispered,  the words thick with frustration. His grip on his cock tightened erratically, jerking and twisting in a desperate attempt to escape the agony.

Cillian moved his head from side to side, muttering curses, a cocktail of expletives and obscenities slipping from his lips as he let loose a tirade of anger and intense need. He felt like a caged animal, the tension building up inside him until he neared the point of explosion.

Nearing his own climax, Cillian bit his lip, groaning deeply as he moved his hand faster over his cock. His hips bucked, grinding up against his fist as he felt his cock pulsing with anticipation.

His chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, the anticipation overwhelming him as he finally let go, surrendering to the blinding orgasm that spilled forth. 

"Fuck !" he cried out, his voice echoing in the dark room as ropes of cum shot from his cock, painting a messy pattern on his stomach, leaving him spent and dizzy.

For a while, Cillian just lay there in the dark, his mind abuzz with what had just happened. His heart raced, his breaths still coming in hot, heavy pants, the sweat drying on his skin in the cold air.

As the initial rush subsided, a wave of guilt and shame crashed over him, more potent than the waves on the nearby beaches.

Cillian felt disgusted with himself, hating that he couldn't control his desires for you.

"Fuck," he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut.

"What the hell am I doing?" He couldn't believe he had just done that - allowed his mind to wander to a place it shouldn't, giving in to desires that could never be realized.

He got up and walked to the bathroom, turning on the light and gazing at his reflection in the mirror. His face was flushed, eyes glazed over, and he looked like a man possessed. He turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face, trying to snap out of it. "Get it together, man," he told himself sternly.

He wiped his face dry with a towel and looked back at the bed, his thoughts still swirling with images of you, his daughter's best friend and his best friend's daughter. "We can't do this," he whispered aloud, "we just can't,'" he murmured  to himself, thinking about the potential consequences.

The guilt lingered, but the desire that had awakened in him was not so easily tamed. He knew he should resist, that it was wrong. He was married and you were, most certainly, off limits. 

Tags:

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[pickleskisser]

hii!! I really liked your pickles headcanons and the part about meeting his family was my favorite! if you have the time could I request hcs for meeting the family for the rest of the boys? if not the rest of them then just skwisgaar would be fine!

remember to drink water, eat a snack, and take plenty of breaks!

(ps can i be spade anon?)

HIIII !! Omg thank you sm I had a lot of fun with it lolz. And yeah I can so do that for you :p fair warning it's very improvised since info on these dude's parents are scarce but I hope it's enjoyable anyways ☆

Meeting the Parents HCs

Nathan Explosion

The one you have to worry least about, his parents are sweethearts.

Though his mom will have an eye on you both the whole time.

I feel like Nathan has a record of getting entangled with people who were not so good for him, so it isn't personal or anything she's just on the fence at first.

Once she realizes you're not like that, though, and genuinely love Nathan and, in turn, treat him how he deserves, she's alllllllll over you.

She's going to want your number, your Skype, your Facebook, everything.

She'll pull out the baby pictures too. It greatly embarrasses your brutal boyfriend.

His dad would be the same, on the fence a little, but he overall trusts Nathan a little more.

He might try to plan a fishing trip, though, and Nathan is going to be all over that, so good luck getting out of that if you viscerally dislike fishing.

Overall, don't sweat it! As long as you treat their boy right, they love you, and you might as well be family now.

Toki Wartooth

Oh boy. So I'm not sure you could ever really meet his parents?

He doesn't like talking about them. You probably didn't even learn anything about them until late in your relationship.

If you were to hypothetically meet them, well, you're only meeting his mom.

Aslaug would be dead at this point so there wouldn't be much of an option.

Anja is a cold woman with high unachievable standards. So don't take the fact she won't even speak to you too personally.

If you're religious in the Christian sense, you might have a small chance of approval… but then again, you're dating Toki Wartooth of Dethklok, and you had to learn about him somewhere. Goddamn devil music.

Don't even waste your breath. All that matters is how much you and Toki love each other.

William Murderface

It's not willing on his part at all.

Stella is showing up unannounced, ranting and raving about not telling her he finally got hitched, and he must just want her to die or something.

He's snippy and miserable the whole time. Not miserable in the same sense Pickles was, he's more annoyed than anything.

Stella isn't the most gentle woman. She's abrasive and loud and can be partial to physical violence, but she does care a little bit about her grandson.

She really sucks at showing it, and definitely fucked him up with her parenting style (if his emotional constipation and short fuse didn't make that clear) but she did step up when his parents died instead of letting him go through the system, so.

All this to say, she's giving you a shotgun talk.

William will pry it out of her hands, of course, and curse her out for it, but it's happening !!

After that, though, don't worry, you're family now. Actually, maybe you should worry.

This means that whatever small politeness she whipped up before is long gone, you're a Murderface now, you are going to get treated like one.

Although William couldn't care less about his grandmother's opinion, he cares about yours. So, to see you embracing his family in full stride without getting scared off is more than heartwarming to him.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

Again, it's fully unwilling on his end. It would honestly have to be something you want.

I think it's needless to say his relationship with his mom is weird. He truthfully wouldn't mind never seeing her again, especially after the events of fatherklok.

But again, if you really, really, want it then, yeah, he'll take you down to Sweden.

Surfetta doesn't have much of an opinion on you. What you are to her son is no concern to her.

She's most likely tipsy the whole time and disappearing for periods at a time.

The whole thing will feel like a waste of time, and Skwisgaar is stressed.

Don't worry he just needs to play his Thunderhorse for a few hours, and maybe a little bit of laying on top of you with his head on your chest listening to the sound of your heartbeat… just a little.

[amf-studios]

Hello. Please answer this. I think it's important these get adressed. me and others of this community have been getting uncomfortable with some of your art. While I see nothing wrong with the Fankai, the rest of it has caused issues for people. First, there is the Natsuki fanfic. While I personally don't have much issue with it, there are some who feel very uncomfortable with their comfort character (Nate) Being changed in such a drastic way, and believe a separate community should be made for that art, as some people have gotten to the point of self harm from seeing their comfort characters changed so much. Next, there is uncomfortable undertones to your "Damonate" Fanfic. It seems very "Loli" esque, with a childish hundred year old woman being with a child. Then there is the sexual undertones to some of the natsuki art, particularly the maid outfit with Arachnia. This is to some extent sexualization of a minor. Then, there is the inequality in the amount of transmasc and transfem characters you draw. 90% of your characters that are trans are transfem, and barely any are transmasc. Then, finally, there is the softcore Arachnus and Toadal Dude art. While nothing is showing, it is very clearly provocative and you have a mostly minor fanbase. I believe that art should be on a separate account.

If you could adress these, it would be good. Thank you.

OK, guess we're doing this.

I've heard a decent few people say they find my natsuki au uncomfortable. I will only say this: no one is making you interact with this content. If you don't like it, just scroll.

I haven't heard anything about the self harm until now, but in my honest opinion; "self harm over someone else doing fanon stuff with a fictional character is indicative of a much larger issue." I say this not to undermine the struggle with self harm, as I have dealt with it myself in the past, but I cannot stress this enough, a random person on the internet's visual fanfiction should not be cited as the reason for that.

Onto the damonate issue. The yokai watch Fandom needs to realize it is a Canon fact "YOKAI DO NOT AGE THE SAME AS HUMANS"

Toiletta is 70 and still a little girl, enma is 60 and acts like a teenager til about shadowside. It is clear that the immortality of being a yokai affects how one matures, so their chronological age does not automatically make them an adult.

And with Damona, she is arguably *very much a child.*

The only time in the games where she is actually treated as a character, she is primarily characterized as a daddies girl who feigned being emotionless in order to get her dad to spend time with her. 2

(I have not seen any full episode of her in the anime, but what I have seen doesn't really disprove the above point.)

On top of that, damona received a redesign in shadowside, the sequel series where Nate himself is an adult.

And it is incredibly clear, she has also matured in this time skip. I don't know why she ages so much in 3 decades when she's at least 190 by the first game, but here we are.

Yokai age is inconsistent, but Damona is one of the more clear-cut examples of being a child.

Onto the maid point: yeah, kinda. I didn't really realize the unfortunate implications until *after* I posted the art. But I do feel that of any maid outfits I could have chose, I used some of the tamer ones as not a lot of skin is really shown on the drawing, or the characters I pulled them from. (The joke with Entoma is specifically that she *isnt* conventionally attractive)

Unfortunately maids in general have been sexualized to hell and back along with a number of other female specific outfits.

On the transmasc point: I actually agree. Mostly cause I use my own experience as a base for making content, and I just don't really have a lot of transmasc headcanons I jive with.

I have tried to rectify this with the oc Toransu being specifically a transmasc character, but I could definitely be doing more.

And on the final point: I will just make it clear here

I AM NOT HERE TO BABYSIT YOUR KIDS.

Social media generally has rules against those younger than teen years making accounts for a reason.

I know kids will lie about their ages to circumvent this, hell *I* did that when I was younger. But it still remains: it is a parents responsibility to track what their children are doing on the internet. Not the random fanartist who makes funky ghost content. If kids are coming across content I have explicitly flagged for my older audiences, that is the parent's responsibility.

I see no point in making a separate account for something I've basically only done once and don't really plan to do often. Even if I did, I've been told my style is very easy to recognize. Meaning by all accounts, I'd likely still hear someone bitching about me doing it.

And while it wasn't a point in this comment, I might as well address it: it's been brought to my attention that people are evidently accusing me of being "a proshipper"

I have never been able to actually understand that whole "pro vs anti" debate, and every attempt to get an answer has just left me confused.

All I will say on that is incest and pedo shit is gross. Apart from that, ship whatever you want, and for fucks sake don't get on people's case for ships you don't like for no reason. There are better uses of your time.

Sorry for the full rant.

[xxxsharpcheddar]

I'm gathering that he betrayed your trust. *sigh* I'm so sorry. It's genuinely saddening. Of course it doesn't affect anyone more than you (and possibly him if he holds the capacity to understand what he's lost), but it feels sad for all of us, albeit in a far smaller, but still significant way. I keep seeing this exact pattern play out recently.

(The astrology shows that it's a massive time for hidden structures that aren't serving you & things you may feel are solid but actually have rotting foundations to be forcibly cleared from your life: due to Pluto finally leaving Capricorn and not returning for the next 200ish years.)

The reason why it's so saddening is because it makes us disconnect in order to protect ourselves, when all we want is connection. It's this disparity that causes the discomfort of sadness, the feeling of being pulled apart.

We're a very small community (FFA+BHM) spread across continents, and your relationship was a symbol of hope for many of us. Not the only, but certainly one of the few. And here I am angry and sick to my stomach that you got treated this way by a member of our own tiny little community. I'm sure it's made you want to disengage massively, I'm sure it's made others more wary and guarded, and I'm also sure that's not how any of us want us to feel in this space.

It sucks and I'm sorry. I don't really know what else to say, aside from can we all please try to do better for each other? Be open, be honest, be brave. But that feels like empty advice that no one wants to listen to.

Les, I hope you're getting all the support and love and kindness you need, so you can heal super quick. ❤️ In the meantime, I ask rhetorically: guys, what the fuck??

Yes. It was calculated. He’s a very intelligent person. He was the perfect boyfriend on paper. There were no red flags in the ways he treated me. Thank god for intuition.

Oof “it makes us disconnect when all we want is connection.” I felt that.

I honestly felt so much pride and joy sharing our relationship here because I thought what we had was rare and beautiful. My normie friends were fooled by him too. I thought we were crushing it on the personal front and the fetish front. He was my first experience with this community. He exploited my trust in such a large scale it’s hard to come back here. It’s hard to look at other couples thinking that’s what we had. It’s hard to look at the most seemingly insignificant things because it brings me back. I keep dreaming he’s betrayed me in different ways and I’m begging for him back. I thought we could be a pinnacle of hope for people. I thought I found someone who loved me and shared the fetish - fucking hole in one!

I couldn’t have been more wrong. I hope my experience can help prevent someone from going through this. I never should have let my walls down so soon.

Thank you for sending this. I know my response is muddled with venting, but thank you. Let’s do better. Let’s work on ourselves before we engage with others. Let’s unpack our shit before we hurt people in the process. Let’s heal ourselves so we can find meaningful and true connection.

Also if you’re comfortable with it could you DM me the astrological snippet?

[animebw]

Thinking more on this after sleeping on it, as fantastic as Subaru's speech was, I don't think it hits the level of Re:Zero's previous high points. Compared to From Zero or Parent and Child- or shit, even Kiss of Death or Save Me- I can't help but feel it falls a little short. And the problem is simple: we don't get a sense of how dark it truly is before the dawn.

Like, the point of this moment is clear. Subaru's speech is meant to be the spark that reignites hope in the people of Priestella. After their city's been invaded by cultists, torn apart by monsters, people have descended into fear and paranoia, turning on each other and drowning in despair. And here's this punk-ass kid coming out of nowhere to tell them that even a weak loser like him isn't giving up hope, so neither should they. It's a light in the darkness, a single burning ember that refuses to go out until it sets everyone else's souls alight once more, and it's a fantastic milestone on how far Subaru's come since the start of the show.

But as great as it is for Subaru personally, it doesn't really convey how impactful this is for the city itself. Why? Because we never got a sense of just how fucked Priestella is right now. Supposedly it's in a horrific state, with magical beasts devouring everyone outside and shelters falling into chaos and panic as Wrath's despair overtakes them. But we don't actually see any of that. The only time we spend with civilians in distress is that one shelter that almost breaks out in fighting before the songstress easily calms it down, and, well... that honestly doesn't seem so horrible! Yeah, it's a bad situation and it's easy to assume the horrors happening offscreen, but if we were just going by what we're shown, it all seems remarkably manageable! They've got this shit under control! You never get the sense that things are truly miserable, that everything is spiraling out of control, that countless people have already been butchered by the unfolding horrors. So when Subaru steps up to the microphone to restore hope to a hopeless situation, you can't feel that swelling hope as much because you haven't been given a chance to appreciate the hopelessness we need to be lifted from.

And this would have been so easy to fix! Why not throw a couple of scenes in the previous episode showing some of those horrible things happening? Have Subaru stumble upon a shelter where the people have already went insane and slaughtered each other so there's nothing but cold bodies in puddles of their own blood! Have Garfiel run across a pack of mabeasts in the process of devouring a group of innocent people who were unlucky enough to be caught outside! Show us how bad things have gotten so we understand why Subaru restoring hope is so important! Re:Zero's never been shy about depicting the gruesome consequences of violence, why should it back off now?

And once again, for all the fights, decapitations, magic spells, trauma, evil spirits, eldritch horrors and crazy plot twists, it's the episode that's literally just thirty minutes of conversation that proves why Re:Zero is one of the greatest anime of all time.

God, it's good to be back.

[shirareblogs]

Finding out that tagged reblogs don't show up in tag searches on tumblr

Which I guess makes sense but like

The entire point of this blog was to boost art I like a little, which makes that... wow, really frustrating...

looking at the bajillion posts I have in the queue for this blog that are tagged like :|

[butterflieswhisper]

hhelp wait this is so funny. didnt you follow me forever ago after a scott themed october song analysis . sorry if you dont remember that and this ask doesnt make sense but this is still funny to me

hi!!!! yeah. it was the cherri crane lives art i think and also where you made your flower husbands tag! I have never really interacted with fh outside of you (and like, seeing pretty fanart) but i am nonetheless deeply invested in your interpretation specifically!!! I honestly haven't watched jimmy outside of rats and the beginning of empires2 either i genuinely have no clue what they get up to you just seem to have a lot of fun with it

[brittlebutch]

The 'Enjoying watch you suffer' line in Broadcast has always been hard to pin down; Tim's leg getting broken is the biggest incident in Entry #35, so it's natural to want to tie the two together, but it seems to fit so indelicately into what we know about the timeline of totheark's internal relationship that it almost causes more problems than it resolves. However, even though it's very blink and miss it, Tim does actually manage to stab Alex in the arm before he gets knocked down -- we hear Alex cry out in pain, can see blood on the blade when Jay picks it up, and then in the recovered corrupted footage from that tape that Jay posts as Entry #36 Alex says "I did what I had to... he'd just stabbed me" -- and that injury being what totheark was trying to call attention to, to me, reads a lot more clear and consistent than anything else does

[icewindandboringhorror]

a boye whom'st loves to attack paper balls

[perilegs]

not an astarion defender in the traditional sense, but in the sense that the whims he gets approval from are funny. i would also approve of someone throwing shit at people who asked them to smear their face with said shit

[fatespalm]

solemn vow to never be complacent or meek around things i feel strongly about again — to at least start the conversation even if i don’t have the words to talk back exactly to a poisonous idea — in kind, to pick up the thread if someone else does the same — tired of letting evil shit unfold —

[rmayuscula]

age gap autumn girl fuck you

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ it's sticky, toshi... ❞

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : you help ushijima finally realize that he's got a breeding kink

ᯓ ❤₊‧⁺...cw : u. wakatoshi x fem!reader, dirty talk, messy and wet, teasing, marathon sex, pet names, breeding kink, talks of pregnancy, ushijima can't stop cumming

ᯓ ❤₊‧⁺...lunar's note : haikyuu save me, save me ushijima wakatoshi, SAVE ME !! anyways hi i spent 150$ on ushijima merch yesterday and i don't regret it, so say hello to my haikyuu phase coming back !!!

ushijima having a breeding kink isn't a surprise to you at all.

what is surprising is how long it takes for him to figure it out.

sure, at first it wasn't clear, but after being with him for so long, you quickly pick up on whenever he'd mutter in your ear as he slid his stupidly big cock inside of you, saying how badly he wished he could cum inside of you instead in the condom.

afterwards, he's so focused on cleaning you up and making sure you felt good and satisfied, you don't get a chance to question him on it. not that you were complaining, ushijima is so cute when he's asking if you need anything and constantly reminds you to get up and go use the bathroom.

it's even cuter when he realizes you can't walk.

"ah. i'm sorry, i didn't realize how hard i went...here, let me help."

eventually, you to suggest things to ushijima, trying to test out the waters with him.

you start by just asking if he’d want to fuck you without the condom, what he thought about cumming inside, even jokingly saying you’d make him a dad one day.

but it seems like that last part was swimming around his head for a while...he can't get the thought of you getting chubby and round with his kid out of your head. and knowing he'd be able to take care of you all the time? that thought alone made him shiver a little.

what can he say, he loves doting on you more than anything.

however, you aren't expecting the way he reacted weeks after dealing with your teasing and questioning, fueling the thoughts swirling inside his head.

"toshi, if you ever cum inside me, you should set it as your phone background! actually, wait, no, because what if your teammates see it..."

"..."

"mm, maybe a video instead? ooh, yeah, i want a video of you cumming in me then pullin' out so i can see it spill out, toshtosh, would you do that f' me?"

he doesn't reply and doesn't give you a chance to comment again. the visual you painted in his mind just too much for him.

next thing you know, ushi's got you folded in half on the bed, making sure you feel every drag of his stupidly fat cock against your hot gummy walls. he's pulling out to just the tip before slamming back inside you, groaning each time you let out a whimper of his name or squeeze down on him.

"toshi, t-toshi! h-hoohmygod, please, baby, c-calm down, 'm sorry f' teasin', oh my goddd...!"

you're so fucking wet and noisy, he wants to make you be quiet because he feels like your going to make him cum too fast but he'd never ever do it as the thought of not being able to hear you is painful.

he's lost track of time, your cunt making him brainless as he pumps his cock in and out of you as he groans your name, one of his hands pinning your arms to your back while the other presses your head into the pillows.

"s-shhh, honey, let...let me make you feel good, y're so loud..."

it's so fucking messy and sloppy, his cum is dripping out of your tight pussy from how many times he’s emptied his load into you, but he still isn’t stopping, no, he can't. it’s leaking from between your thighs, leaving a milky white sheen on his dick, dripping down onto the bedsheets.

"m-mmh, nooo, toshi, don' wanna be quiet, i-i wan' you to hear how good you make me feel, baby," you purr between moans, knowing that your voice was enough to get him off. the throb of his dick inside of you told you that you were right.

“i...i thought 'bout fucking you like this all day, during practice…that i’d fuck you full of my cum, get it so deep inside you," he mutters with a grunt, moving his hands off you so he could drape himself over your back.

"f-fuck, everyone knew something was off, kageyama kept asking me if-if was okay, how 'm i 'posed to tell him my pretty little honey is waiting at home for me to fill them with my cum?”

with an affirming coo, you manage to tilt your head to the side to look over your shoulder, wanting to see how ushijima is holding up and god, the sight is so sinful.

ushijima's dripping in sweat, his bottom lip swollen and puffy from his teeth digging into it. his fluffy hair is messy and sticking to his damp forehead, and his eyes are shut, squeezing in pleasure when the head of his cock brushed against that sweet spot just right, making your cunt spasm around him.

but his eyes keep opening to see the mess between the both of you. each thrust causes his cum to spill out around him, loud, wet squelches filling the bedroom. and it's only fueling his need to fill you up again, and again, and again, until he can’t anymore.

ushijima can’t stop himself, flipping you over onto your back and folding you into a mating press and, god, he's so fucking happy he did. the way you sob his name, your nails clawing at his back as you cry in pleasure about how much deeper he is now driving him insane.

“t-toshi, cum in me, please, wanna make you a daddy, please.”

“I know, baby, I’ll give you all of it, fuck you full of cum until you can’t take anymore.”

fuck, he’s so loud, he sounds so good. ushi's deep, drawn out groans and pants of your name making you go dizzy, his big hands squeezing your waist tightly each time your hands tug at his hair.

“mm, fuck, that’s right, take all my cum, look at you, so good, can you take more? let...let me cum in you again, baby, you promised you’d make me a daddy, right? i-i need to make sure it sticks.”

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