#actually i DO like the idea of taking all of these asks and using them like a diary LOL

[drunkinyourbenz]

YOU DON'T REALLY NEED A BREAK

☆ SYNOPSIS: in which billie is stressed, so naturally she needs you more than ever. unbenkownst to her, she takes it too far. ☆ PART ONE ☆ RELATIONSHIP: dom!billie eilish x fem!reader ☆ WARNINGS: SMUT, use of safe word, angst, fluff, comfort, mean billie, reader is a little bratty, situationship/fwb, angry sex, crying, strap-on, edging, degradation, petnames, name calling (slut, whore, brat, etc.), choking, hair pulling, humiliation, dumbification, toxic dynamic (except less so because billie's realising things hehe), unedited. ☆ REQUESTED: yes, by a bunch of anons ☆ NOTE: y'all read my mind with these reqeusts i was already thinking of writing a part two abt exactly this and you all had the same idea!! sorry this took so long lmao exams are kicking my ass :/ this is very unedited sorry for any mistakes i read it through once and then posted it lmao read part one first for it to make more sense ☆ WORD COUNT: 3.5k words

billie hadn’t texted you in a little over a week, and you almost thought that she wasn’t ever going to again. the last time you’d seen her had ended like all of the other nights, she’d cleaned you up and then left you alone in the silent hotel room. usually, she’d text afterwards, just to make sure you were feeling okay, but there was nothing. the last text between the two of you was when you’d asked where she was when she was late that night. 

the two of you normally hooked up at least a few times a week, and you’d never actually gone a week without her since you started this four months ago.

you thought the worst: someone else had replaced you as her favourite. you’d always thought it would happen, but you thought you might have a few more times before it was over. but from the looks of it, you weren’t ever going to see her again. 

which was fine, obviously. you didn’t care—or that’s what you kept telling yourself. you had agreed to a no-commitment thing when you two started whatever this was, and she could do whatever she wanted. it stung a little bit that she wasn’t doing you, but ultimately, there was nothing you could do about it. 

so when you got home from a long day, thoroughly exhausted, your plan for the night was to hide in your bed and watch 2000s tv shows until you passed out. you showered, taking your time to wash your hair and feeling your tense and tired muscles relax under the hot stream of water. once out of the shower, you changed into some comfortable clothes, flopping down on your bed in relief. you were ready to finally just cuddle up under the blankets like you’d been wishing you could do all day.

about eleven minutes into the gilmore girls episode you were up to—rewatching for the hundredth time—your phone pinged, and you almost just ignored it, but you picked it up with a groan. 

your eyes widened when you saw it was from billie, the last number you expected to text. your heart almost skipped a beat.

billie: come over?

you paused for a moment, conflicted. you truly were exhausted, and it had been such a long day, and all you wanted to do was sleep, you honestly weren’t in the mood for what you knew billie would want. but… it was billie. 

so, inevitably, you ended up at her door. you were still in the clothes you’d changed into the moment you got home, just some comfortable sweatpants and a top—billie wouldn’t care about what you wore, she wanted you to be comfortable. plus, you knew full well that you wouldn’t be wearing them for long. 

you knocked on the door, and it opened within mere seconds, almost as if billie had been waiting by the door for you to show up. from the look on her face, you wouldn’t be surprised. she looked stressed, angry, and desperate. you looked her up and down, your eyes settling on her face. she was wearing a pretty similar outfit to you, sweatpants that hung low on her hips, the “HIT ME HARD AND SOFT” waistband of her boxers peeking out, and a white tank top that you could see the slight hint of her nipples peeking through. her arms were bare and your eyes seemed to gravitate towards the toned muscles there, which never failed to make your brain short circuit. paired with the noticeable outline of her strap in her pants, it was almost too much for you to take. 

you noticed the way her eyebrows were slightly furrowed and her eyes were narrowed in a firm gaze, the frustration was clear on her face. “rough day?” 

she groaned, and when she spoke, her voice had a slight rasp to it, “you have no idea.” 

the two of you fell into silence, just staring at each other for a few long moments. it wasn’t a comfortable silence, it was one that hung in the air around you, a claustrophobic silence. there were words left unspoken between the two of you that poked their heads around the corner but never truly revealed itself, it left you wondering when it would snap, but it never did. the two of you stared at each other for what felt like lifetimes, you waiting for billie to do something, and billie simply savouring the feeling of having you in front of her again. 

finally, she spoke, her voice still holding that same raspiness—which alone could get you on your knees for her. “it’s pathetic that you’re here so fast, considering i ghosted you for a week. you’re just a desperate slut for me, aren’t you? not that you’d be good for anything else.”

the bluntness of her words sent a chill down your spine, this was exactly what you’d expected. why else would billie text you after a week of not talking, if not to use her favourite girl? 

billie continued talking before you could even get a word in, it was like she’d read your thoughts. she leaned closer, her lips brushing your ear as she spoke, “you know i could just call over any of my girls and they’d be here in a heartbeat, and they’d be exactly the same. pathetic, desperate, and begging.”

you raised an eyebrow at her words. you knew what she was doing, trying to wind you up, get you to act out. you had honestly intended to just be her good girl tonight because you were so tired, but you knew she adored it when you acted up. so you spoke with the bratty tone you knew she loved.

“sure you could. but none of them are here now, are they? you called me.” 

the brattiness, especially when she was in a mood like this, made her eyes light up. your brattiness was her favourite thing, she loved it when you gave her an excuse to be harsher and meaner than she was on a normal day. so, when you talked back to her, she lets out a dark laugh. “don’t fuckin’ test me, mama.” 

you let a soft scoff fall past your lips, “or what?” 

“you know i’ll put you in your place, i’ve done it before.” and then you realised, this was what set you apart. this was why you were her favourite. you weren’t afraid to act up, so she didn’t have to be afraid of taking it too far. she could push you, because you pushed her. “maybe you should. you want to blow off steam, don’t you?”

at your words, her lips twitched upwards into a slight, barely noticeable smirk. you knew she would be taking them as a challenge, “you’re gonna have to drop the bratty attitude eventually, mamas.”

“maybe you should make me.”

that was exactly what she wanted—she wanted you to keep going, keep winding her up. she wanted you to give her a reason to pin you down and tear you apart; and you gave her that reason with that simple suggestion.

she took your wrist in her hand, her grip almost painful as she tugged you behind her to her bedroom. the air felt different than it normally did when you were here, everything felt so tense. her entire body language screamed irritated, dominant. but it wasn’t the normal kind of dominance she normally exuded. billie always had this kind of casual dominance that just hung around her, her presence was just effortlessly assertive. this is different, she had a look in her eyes you hadn’t seen before—she was always mean, but this was her normal level of mean times ten. 

she was clearly in a whole new headspace, not one you were familiar with. this wasn’t just dominant, wasn’t just mean, no, it was something else. she wasn’t just a little stressed, she didn’t just have a little bit of frustration she needed to take out on you, this was worse. it was an almost animalistic kind of energy, one that’s so raw, so intense, you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk by the time she was finished with you.

she took one of the belts from her merch from her dresser, shoving you backwards onto the bed and tying your hands to the headboard. she tugged it slightly, making sure it was firm but not too tight. it sent a rush of excitement through you, and you knew she felt the same. 

“gonna use you, mamas,” you knew from those words that she was going to absolutely ruin you, and you could tell by the look in her eyes.

sure enough, no more than five minutes later, she had her strap deep inside of you and was pounding into you at a bruising pace. the strap was bigger than the one she usually used, and it made you ache with a constant stinging pain. she hadn’t given you any time to adjust, and had started as she meant to go on. you were naked and on her bed, with her on top of you, fucking into you at a brutal pace. your hands were still tied up with her belt and the ache it brought only amplified the pleasure. one of her hands had your hair in a firm grasp, solely to make you feel the sting of pain it brought. she wanted to bring you to tears. her other hand grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing it before letting her hand fall down on your ass in a harsh slap. 

the intense pleasure of her cock inside you and her finger circling your clit was a perfect contrast to the pain her hands brought you, and a trail of moans fell from your lips. “b-billie-” 

a mean, almost cruel laugh left her lips, “god, you’re such a slut.” another slap landed on your ass, “it’s pathetic, really. i mean, i can ghost you for as long as i want,” another slap. “and you’re still at my door in five minutes as soon as i ask.” slap, “pathetic fuckin’ whore.” 

you whined, which simply made her laugh. in her own sadistic way, she was enjoying this. 

this continued for what felt like hours—maybe it was, you had no idea. every time you got slightly close to your orgasm, she’d pull out, tugging you away from the edge. by now, you had tears rolling down your cheeks, and the fine line between pleasure and pain was slowly but surely being crossed. 

“fuckin’ take it,” she breathed. “god, you look so dumb around my cock. all you’re good for, hm? spreading your legs and taking it like the slut you are?”

you whimpered, and she simply slapped your ass again. 

this continued for much longer, and she wasn’t even mad at you for being bratty, not in the slightest. she just needed an outlet for her bad mood, and that was what you were. merely a way for her to release her frustrations. 

you let out a choked sob, your body trembling, “billie, please, i can’t—” 

you knew she wasn’t doing this because she had anything against you, there had been something deeply wrong with her day. she had never been this downright cruel before, and you knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t act like this without reason. but it was too much, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take. she hadn’t asked for your colour even once tonight, and that thought alone was putting you on edge. sure, her being rough turned you on, but right now it was scaring you just as much. this was darker than you’d experienced in all four months of your friends with benefits situation with her, and you weren’t sure if you liked it. 

you felt the strap hit your most sensitive spot, and you let out a sound that was a mix of a moan and a sob. “billie–” 

“like being used by me, yeah? taking everything i give you like a slut?”

you weren’t sure when you realised that you actually weren’t enjoying it anymore, but it was obvious all of a sudden. it hurt, and not in a good way. you were exhausted from both your day and the sheer amount of time she’d been edging you for. the way your arms had been tied to the bed for so long was making them ache painfully, and at some point down the line, your tears of pleasure had turned into tears of pain. 

you normally had the safety net of knowing that she was paying attention to your signals, knowing that she didn’t want to hurt you. but it didn’t even feel like she was aware of what she was doing, she was so caught up in herself and drowning out her own frustrations. you hated that lack of awareness, it was like she wouldn’t even notice if she actually hurt you. 

she looked like she was about to speak again, so before she could get out another degrading comment, you gasped out, “red, billie–”

whatever half formed sentence billie had been about to say died on her tongue, your gasped words making her freeze inside of you. her mind suddenly went silent, her frustrated thoughts about her day coming to a halt as she looked down at you with wide, almost scared eyes. you’d never actually used your safeword—obviously it was something that the two of you had communicated, but billie had never expected to actually go too far, to push you to that. she was meant to check in on your colours, and she felt an intense pang of guilt when she realised that she hadn’t done that. 

as she looked at you, noticing the tears and the exhausted expression, as well as the way your wrists were visibly sore from being tied for so long, she felt a sense of dread. she was overcome with shame and she didn’t know what to do about it. her breath caught in her throat as she processed what was going on.

“shit, i’m so sorry.” after a moment, she shook herself out of her paralysed shock, she would’ve pulled out immediately, but she was aware that that would just hurt you even more. so she leaned over, quickly untying the belt around your wrists and letting it fall to the ground beside the bed. she massaged your wrists gently for a moment, trying to soothe you. 

her hands moved over your tense muscles, trying to ease some of the soreness. she brushed some of your hair out of your eyes, her touch soft and cautious. “i-i’m so sorry, baby. i never wanted to push you that far.”

you knew that. you knew that she would never actually intend to hurt you, you knew that she wasn’t herself. you didn’t need her to over explain herself, you just needed her to hold you. the hand that had been pushing your hair out of your eyes moved to stroke your cheek, and you could see the intense guilt in her eyes. 

“i’m gonna pull out now, okay?” her voice trembled slightly as she spoke, eyes fixed on your face. 

you simply nodded, hissing slightly in pain as she gently pulled the strap out of you. billie felt her stomach twist at your obvious pain, knowing that she had done that. “i know, i’m so sorry.”

once she was out of you, she climbed off you and gently shifted you so you were sitting further up the bed, propped up on the pillows slightly. her mind was clearly racing with what she could do to help, “do you need anything? water, food, whatever?”

you shook your head softly. if your brain hadn’t been so exhausted, you probably would have thought more rationally about this. but you didn’t, and you didn’t once consider the limited affection in your dynamic. “can you just hold me?” 

billie didn’t hesitate, she just nodded instantly. “yeah, of course i can.” she joined you further up the bed, pulling you into her arms. she held you against her chest gently, her fingers soothingly running through your hair while her hand rubbed your back softly. 

you could hear her heartbeat, it was fast and a clear reminder of how stressed she was. you spoke softly, “it’s okay, seriously.”

but it wasn’t okay, not to billie. she had hurt you, she had pushed you too far, even when you were already clearly tired. she should’ve known better, and the guilt was weighing down from her and eating her up from the inside. not to mention she was terrified that this might be your last straw, that you might never want to see her again, that she might have broken your trust. wondering why she cared so much about her casual fling’s feelings was something that would have left her perplexed on any other day, but it was not currently at the forefront of her mind. “but–”

“it’s okay.” you said firmly, “i wouldn’t be asking you to hold me if i was uncomfortable around you.” 

those words seemed to ease billie’s nerves slightly, and she tightened her arms around you, holding you close. after a few minutes of this, she gently pulled you to sit in your lap, and you shifted so that your head was buried in the crook of her neck. you could feel her breathing on your skin, and you could feel her chest rising and falling with each breath. it was incredibly grounding, the feeling of just being close to her. ever so slowly, you felt your breathing calm and your heart rate slow down. 

at least an hour passed as you were just laying there in her arms, your breathing syncing with hers as her fingers ran through your hair. it was a foreign thing, for the two of you to be this close without sex, but it felt so right. it was like you were made to be in her arms, despite the situation that had brought you here. you could sense her guilt, and if you’d been a bit more aware of what was going on, you probably would’ve realised that there was something more behind that guilt—something deeper than just feeling bad for pushing you. but you were unaware, it wasn’t really what took place at the front of your mind. 

the room was filled with only the sound of both of you breathing, and your mind was taken over by the calming feeling of her playing with your hair. after a while, she broke the silence. “d’you wanna borrow something to wear?” 

you couldn’t deny that you liked the feeling of this skin to skin contact, but you also knew that it was a good idea. so you nodded quietly, and she delicately lifted you off her lap and set you down on the bed. she walked over and grabbed you an oversized t-shirt to wear, and she walked into the ensuite to grab a damp cloth. she came back over and gently wiped your thighs with the cloth, at this point you didn’t flinch too much because it had been so long. she held out the t-shirt, which you recognised as one she had worn at some point.

“arms up, darling.” that was a new pet name, but you didn’t comment. instead, you just lifted your arms and allowed her to slip the top over your head. it smelt like her, which somehow just added to the comfort. 

soon enough, she was back on the bed and you were back in her arms. she was laying down and you were laying with her, partly on top of her and partly just cuddled up to her side. this hadn’t happened before between the two of you, but you certainly weren’t complaining. her bed was comfortable, and her arms around you felt like a cocoon you never wanted to grow out of. 

gradually, your breathing started to slow as the exhaustion caught up on you, both from the recent events and your already tiring day. your head slumped onto her shoulder as a yawn fell from your lips, to which billie smiled softly. 

“do you want to stay the night?” 

that was not something you’d ever expected billie to say, but you hummed softly against her shoulder. “if that’s okay, yeah.”

you could’ve sworn you heard a sigh of relief from billie, “of course it’s okay, please stay. i want you to stay.” 

and so you did. you stayed that night, wrapped up in billie’s arms. it was so new, but it felt so right. that night had been an irreversible shift in your relationship, for both obvious reasons and more hidden ones. you knew that the two of you would have to talk about some stuff in the morning, and you knew you’d have to set some more boundaries. but you also felt closer to her than you ever had, somehow. 

little did you know, that night was just as  meaningful for billie as it was for you. she had had a revelation, one that she would likely keep to herself for a while, although there was no doubt you would find out eventually. 

but there was no doubt that billie wanted you to stay, longer than she’d ever thought.

[userautumn]

Please. Tommys helicopter crashing while him and Buck are still broken up? That would be such great drama.

You know what I want? I want Buck to get mad. He has yet to actually get mad at a love interest. He's been hurt and confused, but I want him to get angry. I want him to go out and fuck like he's getting revenge on Tommy, even though he's the one who got left behind again, and I want him to convince himself he's absolutely fine. Eddie can see it, of course. Bobby and Maddie and all the people who love him can see that he's not fine, but I want Buck to pretend he is like he'll die if he doesn't. He deletes Tommy's name from his contacts and dumps all his stuff in the trash and erases his existence from his life like he's nothing more than yesterday's news.

I want this to continue through the rest of the season, long enough that both the characters and the audience start to think that maybe Buck is fine after all. Maybe this whole thing with Tommy was just a mistake, a hiccup. Maybe Tommy was right and saw writing on the wall that Buck didn't. Maybe he was smart by getting out when he did because Buck doesn't cry. He doesn't vent to Eddie, or show up on his doorstep like a kicked puppy. He lives fast and vibrant, and shows up to work covered in hickeys and lipstick and other people's cologne, and if Tommy really was as transformative of a love as he believed he was, shouldn't he be devastated?

Anyway.

Fast forward to the season finale. Athena has been following a case of corporate corruption where an auto and aeronautics manufacturer has been exposed for using faulty parts in their vehicles that have resulted in auto collisions and deaths across the country. None of this really concerns or interests Buck at all, if he's being honest. He fixes his own car for the most part (Tommy showed him how) and that which he can't do, he takes to his usual mom-and-pop mechanic for them to work on. Which is to say that, his life consists of sex and work, so news reports of [Same Company] being responsible for a Cessna crashing in Northern California don't really filter through.

Not until the 118 is called to a helicopter crash just outside of Los Angeles.

Even then, Buck doesn't think about Tommy. Why would he? Tommy Kinard is barely even a memory at this point, just an idea on the edge of his brain, an almost that was quickly buried. Helicopters crash all the time, so he has no reason to believe there's anything out of the ordinary about this one. But then when they're en route, Maddie's voice comes over the radio, tight with emotion and forcibly professional in a way that makes him immediately nauseous: Captain Nash, please be advised that the helicopter in question is one of our own. It's an LAFD chopper. Then, Hen and Eddie and Chimney and Bobby all turn to look at him, and Buck has nowhere to run from their gaze. Even if he did, he couldn't, because he feels paralyzed. Bobby's voice asking if there are any survivors, and Maddie's voice saying she's unsure get lost to the thrum of his heartbeat in his ears. Every repressed emotion, every memory, every bit of desperate longing and grief and love and anger comes rushing back in full force and all Buck can do is sit there while the engine weaves through Los Angeles traffic.

Tommy is fine, of course. He codes on the way to the hospital (Buck performing CPR on his boyfriend while begging him to stay alive is my drug), but once all is said and done, once he's come out of surgery with a little more metal in his body than he went in there with, he's okay. Buck isn't, not by a mile. He's full of too many emotions that he doesn't know how to sort through, chief among them being love, followed closely by anger, and then, guilt, of all things. But after Tommy opens his eyes, after Buck breaks down spectacularly, and after they finally confess that they love each other, Buck makes Tommy look him in the eyes:

"You don't get to run from this. Not again. I mean it. If you get scared, you talk to me. If you need to slow down, you talk to me. You don't make decisions for me, for us, and expect me to be okay with it. That's not how this works."

"Okay."

"I mean it, Tommy. I can't -"

"I mean it too. I promise. Okay?"

"Okay."

Anyways. Yeah. That's how I would do it.

[barcaatthemoon]

goody two shoes || paige bueckers x reader ||

You and Paige take the next step in your relationship.

18+

Paige couldn't wait to see you. A couple of days every week, Paige had been coming over to hang out with you. She had gotten used to seeing you, so whenever she found herself unable to come over all week, Paige had been missing you a lot. Most of her teammates had no idea that Paige was going to hang out with you, and Paige kind of wanted to keep it that way.

Azzi and KK knew, but that was pretty much it. You weren't like most of the girls that tried to weasel their way into Paige's life. They wanted to fuck, and while Paige had been absolutely fine with that before, you being different intrigued her. You didn't really seem all that interested in sex with Paige or anybody at all.

"Damn P, what did sweet little (Y/n) do to get you rushing around like this?" KK asked teasingly. Paige didn't pay any mind to it and just rolled her eyes as she continued to gather up her things. "I don't think I've ever seen you like this over a girl before."

"Nothing is going on, K. (Y/n) isn't like that," Azzi said. Paige noticed a slight edge to Azzi's voice. She had noticed it before whenever KK made jokes about you and Paige fucking. Sometimes it was even directed at Paige, but Paige had been trying to pretend that she hadn't noticed it.

"Nah, there's no way that Paige is acting like this over a girl who doesn't put out," KK said. Azzi just tried to ignore KK and left, Paige hot on her trail.

"You really shouldn't let KK talk about (Y/n) like that. She's got a loud mouth, and it'll spread around the locker room. I don't think (Y/n) would appreciate everybody around campus and the internet talking about her like that." Azzi shoved past Paige after that, leaving the blonde a bit dumbfounded. She sent a quick text to KK about leaving your name out of her mouth before she set out towards your apartment.

Azzi's words echoed around in Paige's head. She had heard a couple of frat guys complain about you at parties before, but she hadn't really given it much mind. Now though, she wondered if you had actually ever been with someone sexually before. Paige hadn't taken someone's virginity in a couple of years, and the idea of taking yours kind of made her nervous. She didn't really think that she was special enough to deserve that, but then again, she didn't want to bring it up until you had put sex on the table.

The two of you were taking things slow. Paige understood your apprehension about her, especially with the way that girls had thrown themselves at her when the two of you went out for lunch together. Sometimes they'd have tact to back off once they noticed you hanging around, but most of them pretended that you weren't even there. Despite your insistence that it didn't bother you, Paige knew differently. She had noticed the way you'd be a bit less affectionate with her after these instances.

"Yeah, she's walking over now. Bye Az, I love you," you said as you hung up your phone. Paige looked absolutely trapped in her own head, and all you wanted to do was comfort her. "Hi Paigey."

"Hey baby," Paige greeted you with a quick kiss. She placed her hand on your back as she led you inside. Your apartment was on the bottom floor, which you were pretty grateful for in moments like this. Azzi's phone call hadn't been a very long one, but she had urged you to have the talk with Paige that you had been holding off on.

"So, Azzi called me. She's kind of mad at you," you told her. Paige groaned as she covered her face. You pulled her hands down and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "I didn't say that I was mad at you. It's not really your job to constantly defend me."

"Yeah, but it kind of should be. I mean, I'm your girlfriend, and KK just says stupid shit sometimes. Azzi reacts kind of harshly sometimes, but she has a point." Paige looked really down on herself, so you decided that this was as good of a time as any to rip the bandage off.

"Paige, she's only getting mad because she knows that it's not true. Obviously you know that we're not having sex, but I haven't had sex with anybody. I didn't tell you that before because I didn't want you to think that I was a prude or a loser," you admitted. You felt your nerves grow with each moment of silence between the two of you.

"I wouldn't think that about you at all. I like being around you. I like hanging out with you and doing all sorts of things I wouldn't with other people. We don't need to be having sex, and I don't mind waiting until you feel like you're ready for me. I'd be a pretty shitty girlfriend if I pressured you before you were ready, and I don't think I'd be able to honestly say I loved you if I did any of that."

"Y-you love me?" Paige went ghost white for a moment, afraid that she had overstepped. The look of relief that washed over her as you launched yourself into her arms seemed to bring her back to life. "I love you too!"

…

Something had definitely shifted between the two of you after that day. You weren't quite sure what it was, but you found yourself opening up a little more physically. Now, it was Paige who found herself pulling back between the two of you. At first, she had been very open with her willingness and want to sleep with you, and a small part of you wondered if maybe you shouldn't have told her that you were still a virgin.

"Shit!" Paige swore as she quickly turned around. Paige had asked to come over and take you out to lunch after her morning classes, so you told her to just come right in. You had woken up later than normal, and for the past 30 minutes or so, had been lounging around in your pajamas. You realized a little bit too late that Paige had never really seen you in any state of undress, so to see you in just a t-shirt and boxers was probably a bit of a shock for Paige.

"Paige, it's fine. This is what I sleep in. Don't tell me that you expected me to wear some Victorian nightgown like Scrooge," you teased. Paige cleared her throat as she slowly lowered her hands from her eyes. "Give me a couple minutes and I'll be ready to go."

"I can order in if you don't want to change. I'm sure that with food around, I'll be distracted enough to keep my hands to myself," Paige offered. You agreed to Paige's suggestion and secretly hoped that Paige wouldn't be able to keep her hands off of you.

"What if I wouldn't mind if you didn't?" you asked her. Paige's face went red at that.

"You don't mean that. You don't want me touching you," Paige said as she flopped back onto your couch. You crawled into her lap and started running your fingers through her hair.

"Yes I do. What's up with you, hmm? I've been trying to move things along without pushing, but you keep shoving me back. Is this because of what I told you?"

"You deserve better than some fuckboy like me. You're kind and sweet, and so fucking good that I don't know what to do with myself when I'm around you. I'd love nothing more than to bend you over the back of your couch sometimes and make you scream my name, but you deserve better than that. You deserve someone soft and sweet, and I don't know if I can do that," Paige confessed. You sighed as you twirled some of her baby hairs in the back around your fingers.

"But you are all of those things, you just don't realize it. You've been coming over for almost nine months every single week to spend time with me. You stopped going to parties because I didn't want to go. You buckled down and put more effort into your schoolwork because you noticed that my grades were slipping a little. You love me, and more than that, you put so much effort into caring for me in ways that you don't even notice. Paige, you're the best person that I've ever dated by a long shot, and I've never been so sure that I trust someone with my body more than you."

"I don't know what to say to all that," Paige mumbled. You could tell that she was getting sort of shy, so you leaned down and kissed her. "You really want to have sex with me?"

"Of course I do. I love you, and it definitely helps that you're the hottest girl I've ever met." Paige was smiling hard at your words, and it was like a switch was flipped for her. She pulled you in for a kiss, not pushing you back once even after you deepened it.

Paige moaned into the kiss as your tongue slipped past her lips. She was absolutely loving the taste of you and couldn't wait for more. Paige broke the kiss to begin trailing kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You were panting a little as you tried to catch your breath. The second that you had it back, Paige was right back at your lips kissing you again. This kiss was a little rougher than the one before, and it left your lips buzzing pleasantly.

"Do you want to do this right now?" Paige asked as her hands ran along the outside of your thighs.

"Yes, I'm sure. I've wanted this for a while now. I don't know what changed, but I know that I want you Paige in a way that I've never wanted anybody else before," you told her. Paige didn't need any more convincing after that. She picked you up in her arms and carried you back to your bedroom.

Paige gently laid you down on your bed, and both of you had the realization that she had never been in this room before. You watched as Paige took in as much of her surroundings as she could without disturbing the momentum the two of you were building. She pulled her shirt off, leaving her in a pair of basketball shorts and a sports bra.

You had seen pictures of Paige like that before, but never been around her like that. Paige seemed to sense your interest in her body, and flexed as she joined you on the bed. She grabbed your hand and placed it on her waist, allowing the tip of your thumb to brush against her abs a little.

"Do you have anything on under your shirt?" Paige asked as her fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. In the two years that you had been at UConn, you had never been to a football game. You were sure that Paige had given you that shirt, as she somehow always ended up with so much free UConn merch as a prominent student athlete.

"No, but you can take it off anyway," you told her. Paige bit her lip as she pushed the fabric up your torso. Paige faltered a bit when she reached the top of your ribcage. You took the last little step for her, and Paige's attention zeroed in your breasts. "You can touch if you want."

Paige acted on instinct and took your breasts into her hands. She pressed kiss after kiss to your chest as her fingers began to tweak and tease your nipples. It as much further than anybody had gotten with you before, and you felt yourself grow embarrassingly wet at the simple gestures.

Slightly uncomfortable by the arousal pooling between your legs, you started to squeeze your thighs together for a little bit of relief. You had only recently began to try getting yourself off, and it was nothing compared to the way it felt as Paige's thigh slotted in between yours. Your head fell back with a gasp as you began to grind against her leg, no longer caring about feeling shameful about any of it.

"Relax baby, I'll take care of you. You deserve better than humping my leg," Paige told you. She placed her hands on your hips and pushed back a bit. You immediately whined at the loss of contact and stimulation, only to gasp when you felt Paige's hand between your legs. She cupped you over your boxers, just barely able to feel a little wet spot through the fabric. "I want you to know before I do this that it's not going to change anything between us. I'm still gonna be right here for you because I love you."

"Paige, I love you too, but please don't stall. I need you," you whined. Paige pulled the boxers down your legs and threw them behind her. She spread your lips open to reveal how wet you were. Paige knew that it had been a while since she had been with anybody, but she couldn't remember the last time a girl had gotten this wet for her.

"Fuck, you are so hot baby," Paige told you. You let out a little whine and pushed your hips forward, hopeful that she'd take the hint and keep going. Paige seemed to take mercy on you, and she let her fingers run through your folds. Her fingers moved with no resistance, stroking you gently before being replaced by her tongue.

"Paige!" you cried out loudly. There was no way that your neighbors weren't going to hear that. You didn't care though, not when you were being brought so close to what you swore had to be heaven. Paige seemed blissfully unaware of how close you were to cumming already as she just continued happily lapping at your cunt. Your fist balled up in the sheets as you let out a string of incoherent mumbles, hips rising and bucking against Paige's face. "Stop. Please stop, I can't…"

"Shit, my bad," Paige said as she let your legs snap shut in front of her. Paige sat up on her knees, looking at you with the proudest grin on her face that you thought you had ever seen. "So, um, I know this is a stupid question, but how was it?"

"I don't know what I expected, but it was better than that," you told her. Paige let out a sigh of relief as she moved to sit next to you. "Do you think that you could order that food now please?"

"Oh yeah, of course. And, um, I'm gonna go run and grab you something to drink. If you want when I get back, we can take a shower together. Not because I want to stare at you or anything, just that I don't know how strong your legs are gonna be. I'm gonna shut up now because I don't think I'm making this sound any better."

"You're so sweet, Paige. Such a good girl-," you cradled Paige's face and pulled her in for a kiss, "-friend. Absolutely the best."

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 10 | Newborn Miracle

summary: the time has finally come, you and chris are going to become parents. Both of you are filled with joy and nervousness at the same time since this is a big step both of you have to make now and you’re ready more than ever for the adventures that lay ahead of you.

warnings: none, just child birth but besides it’s just chris becoming a proud father

authors note: this idea is so adorable I love the concept of babydad!chris and I need more people to write about it, so this is your sign to go do that rn 🫵 luv yall silk and hope y’all enjoy this one

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist

The sun had now began to rise, casting a golden color across the sky as I sat nervously in the passenger seat of Chris’s car, my hand clutching the hospital bag like it was a lifeline. Today was the day we had waited for, the day our lives would change forever. After months of preparing ourselves, endless conversations and debates about baby names and painting the nursery a soft shade of orange we were about to meet our little one. Chris was driving with a focused gaze I hadn’t seen before, his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

Every so often he would spare glances at me, his blue eyes shining with excitement. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, his voice being a mix of joy and disbelief at whats going to happen today. I turned to him, my heart racing as I speak. “I think so. I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life,” I replied, feeling butterflies fluttering in my stomach. The thought of actually becoming a parent was almost hard to believe . When we finally arrived at the hospital, the adrenaline kicked in.

We rushed through the automatic doors, our hearts pounding all together. The bright lights and the familiar smell of sanitary welcomed us as we checked in and were hushed towards the maternity section. The atmosphere was filled with anticipation but not just ours but from families around us, each with their own maternity story. After what felt like forever, it was time for me to be called in. Chris held my hand tightly as we walked together into the delivery room. My heart raced as I settled onto the hospital bed and feeling the cool sheets under me.

Nurses huddled around while preparing equipment for the delivery while Chris stood by my side, whispering soft words of motivation. Hours passed with the soft rhythm of contractions guiding us through the whole experience. Chris was never far from me and his presence felt like a warm blanket of comfort. He kept running his hands through my hair, his calming voice reminding me that we were in this together. “You’re doing amazing,” he softly whispered, his faith in me growing by the second. Finally, after what felt like an ongoing battle of will and strength, the moment arrived.

I could feel the overwhelming urge to push, and with each contraction, I used every ounce of strength I had left. In those intense moments, Chris’s eyes became my own. “You’ve got this, ma,” he reassured me, and I leaned into that support. With one final push and an intense surge of energy I didn’t know I had, we heard the most beautiful sound-our baby’s first ever cry. It was like music to our ears.

Suddenly, everything else faded away around us, the pain, the noise, the world outside. In that instant, all that mattered was the life that had just entered into our world. The doctor gently handed our baby to me, and my heart twisted with joy. I looked down and there they were, our little bundle of happiness in soft white blankets. Chris’s breath caught in his throat as he came closer with his eyes wide, filled with emotion all kinds of emotions. “Can I hold them?” he asked, his voice trembling with excitement. “Of course,” I smiled, shifting so he could take our baby.

Chris cradled our little one against his chest, and I watched as he radiated with pure love. He kissed their tiny forehead, an expression of shock shadowing his face. “You did it. You brought us this miracle,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion coming straight from the heart. Chris looked down at our baby as if they were the most precious treasure in the world. “I want to do skin-to-skin,” he said and I could see the excitement radiating from him. The nurses smiled approvingly and helped him gently remove his shirt, placing our baby against his bare chest.

The warmth of the moment hugged us as Chris’s skin touched our child’s delicate body. He looked at me, letting the little one into his now vulnerable heart. “Can you believe this?” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. Our little one squirmed, their little hand reaching for where Chris’s heartbeat lies. I could see a connection forming, a bond that would last a lifetime. Tears filled my eyes as I watched the two of the most important people in my life together.

It was a moment of pure beauty, one I will cherish forever. Chris looked at me and grinned, as his face radiated with joy. “We’re parents,” he said, still star struck, “and this is just the beginning.” In that room surrounded by the warmth of new beginnings, we held each other close, both over the moon and overwhelmed by all of it. Our family was here, and we were ready for the wonderful adventure ahead.

@hearts4werka

Guestlist!

| - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - |

[7s3ven]

WHAT HAPPENS IN VAGAS STAYS IN VAGAS. simon riley

( just an idea)

I recently watched a movie set in Vegas that had the title (what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas) as its motto and I thought it’d be a really funny plot. I’ll use Ghost as a placeholder for now.

But yeah, imagine reader and Ghost (total strangers) get married in Vegas and they’re like “wtf” and they don’t officially divorce so, hey, Ghost actually has a wife on paper. And then Laswell introduces TF 141 to a transferred worker and what do you know, it’s Ghost’s Vegas wife.

Ghost wasn’t known for drinking past his limits. In fact, he barely had any. He wasn’t a light weight in the slightest. He could drink at least twenty large pints of beer and still be fully sober. But, it seems Vegas had fucked him over. He blamed Jonny for convincing the team to take a holiday to America.

He could still taste the fruity cocktails on his tongue as he sat up, rubbing his face. His mask was discarded to the side, lying on the floor. The room was surprisingly tidy as he leaned over the body beside him to retrieve his mask- wait, that wasn’t right.

Ghost let out a grunt of surprise, staring at the person beside him. His gaze immediately landed on the wedding ring that glinted in the dim light. His heart lurched. Had he slept with a married person? His brows creased as he tried to remember what had happened. Who even was this strange woman? He had never seen her before.

Ghost racked his brain for clues until he realized that the woman beside him was the one he had been eyeing all night in a drunken state. He thought she was pretty and he hadn’t seen the ring before.

He looked down at his own hand, eyes widening even more at the sight of a matching wedding band. It didn’t take a genius to piece everything together.

Ghost hadn’t slept with an already taken person, he had fucking married a stranger instead. Well, in the grand scheme of things, that seemed a little better than ruining a marriage because he drank too much.

You stirred and Ghost froze as you opened your eyes, blinking in confusion. “Where am I?” You were just as confused as he was. “Hey, did we sleep together? You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?” Your words slurred together. You glanced at the ring on his finger, lurching back. “Oh my gosh! Are you married?! Did I fuck a married person?! I’m so sorry!”

“Look at your own finger.” Ghost grumbled. “Wasn’t married before I met you.”

At least you were a smart one. “Oh… we married each other… um, what’s your name?”

“Simon Riley.”

“Y/N L/N.”

The two of you shook hands, still tangled in the white bedsheets.

“So… what happens now?” You mutter.

“I gotta get to work. Give me your number so I can call ya and we can… figure whatever the hell this is out.”

You hand him a piece of paper with your digits written on it. It doesn’t take you long to get dressed and walk out of the hotel, already texting your friends on what you had woken up to.

Hours passed and then days and finally months. And there was no call from the handsome man you had accidentally married. And there was no chance of even divorcing if you couldn’t get in contact with him.

So you endured it. And whenever your friends asked about the ring, you told them the story of how you had managed to get drunk and marry a total stranger. They found it hilarious.

Kate Laswell was the woman who entirely changed your life, in more ways than another. When you were a teenager, she helped you out of a slump. You owed her a great deal for saving you at your worst. So when she asked you to transfer from your secretary line of work in the military to a special operations unit as their new intelligence operative, you agreed.

She had given a meaning to your life, a well-paying job that could support you, and unintentionally reunited you with the man who was bound to you on paper.

“This is Y/N. Treat her nice.” Laswell says to the four large men towering over you. But you only have eyes for the one with the Skull mask. You could recognzie those vivid eyes anywhere.

He wasn’t wearing gloves, giving you a perfect view of the wedding ring still sitting on his finger. You couldn’t blame him, you still wore yours too for some reason.

“Ey, LT, yer gon’ a burn a hole in the poor lassie if ya keep starin’ like that.” John Mactavish, aka known as Soap or Jonny, said, laughing. “You like ‘er or somethin’?”

“Yeah, I guess. She’s my wife after all.” Ghost grunts. You want to pinch the bridge of your nose. How could he say such a thing without context?

Gaz is the one who makes a fuss over Ghost’s statement. “Wait, you’re married?! And you didn’t invite us?!”

“It was in a dingy church.” You say to fill in the gaps.

“Where?” Gaz presses on.

You and Ghost exchange a look, embarrassed about your reckless actions. “Vegas.” You both say in unison.

You can practically see the cogs working in Soap’s head as he gasps. “Is that where yer disappeared off to? Ya got married to a pretty lass without tellin’ us? How long have y’all known each other?!”

You clear your throat as you hear the quiet sound of Laswell chuckling. Glad to see she finds your predicament amusing. “We don’t.”

“So you married a stranger?” Soap’s eyebrows furrow. “Ey, how come you got married before me?!”

“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” Ghost reminds his team members.

It’d be really funny if, even after that, you and Ghost still don’t divorce. And y’all actually start treating each other like lovers.

Like, yeah, we were strangers and got married in a church in Vegas but we won’t divorce because the married life is actually better than expected. What about it?

Ghost literally brushes off the fact that you guys were strangers. He treats you like his wife, bringing you food and wiping your makeup off when you’re too tired to do so. And eventually, you guys just accept it.

[star-fandoms]

I FW WITH THIS HEAVYYYYY OP!! I do have my own theories as well that I wanted to add onto this since I agree with yours, so I hope you don't mind!! :3 A lot of this stuff you said but I'm also adding more detail from the new update!!

HEAVY HEAVY SPOILERS!!

For starters, I agree HEAVILY with the idea of reincarnation being a theme in this game!! The creators tumblr has a few posts where Sol talks about his soulmate, and while that isn't a definite need for a series to be a reincarnation series, I've always thought about soulmates being someone you'll meet in EVERY life after you're reincarnated! Also, I feel like Sol remembers his past life, I didn't know about the post where Amnesia was mentioned, but I feel like it def fits into Sol remembering his past life! So I think Sol, MC, AND Crowe were all reincarnated!

Sol, being the executioner, as you said! One, they kinda LOOK familiar, when I saw the executioner I instantly said Sol LMAO! Two the whole bruise on his neck thing you mentioned! Three, in the bad end Sol uses an axe to kill Crowe, axe's are KINDA similar to guillotines, you aren't gonna stab someone with an axe like you would a knife, you use an axe to chop like a guillotine! Also I'm like 95% certain I've seen something from a game or movie where the use an axe shaped blade instead of the typical guillotine blade! Fourth!! I know Sol isn't the ONLY one who kills, but he's a yandere, he EXECUTES his rivals!! The executioner drawing is also seen with an axe(what Sol used to kill Crowe with) and a collar on and Sol ALSO wears a collar!! It also says that the executioners arms are littered with scars and so are Sol's!

I actually see MC being either a commoner, peasant, OR and most likely, a farmer! I think something from Sol, MC's, and Crowe's past life carried on with them until this life!! And I think MC has always been a farmer, like how they are now! Another reason is when you study with Crowe, in Crowe's question, he talks about the queen befriending a commoner(I believe Crowe is supposed to be the "queen"), I very much feel like the whole scenario Crowe brought up is SO much like Crowe's relationship with the MC! The MC being sus of Crowe for being so nice to them in the beginning of their friendship, much like how you can choose to say you'd be wary of the queen for being nice to you if you were a commoner, Crowe being extremely kind and helpful to the MC even though he really has NO reason to, and he even LOOKS like royalty(he's so pretty omfg) and has been stated to be wealthy! During your first outing with Crowe(when he takes you sightseeing!) he asks if you believe in god, if you say no the MC starts to talk about how they would get upset that their father and theirs hard work would get downplayed and seen as a miracle of god, later in the study session, Crowe uses the same scenario for the what happened between the farmer and the queen, the queen using the farmers hard working labor to throw parties.

And finally, Crowe being royalty! OKAY!! So I've already said he looks princely and is wealthy(which as you said Sol hates the rich)! Two in the study scenario with Crowe he talks about how everyone started turning against the queen because of rumors(I already think about how he doesn't get along with his family so they COULD be included with the people who turned against Crowe! Much like how there were other nobles talking bad about the queen!), I think that Crowe has SOME kind of recollection about his past of being the queen, def not to the extent that Sol has but at least SOME!! I think this because of Crowe's friends, Crowe's friend group consists of people who are "poor"(not necessarily meaning poverty in this case, but poor in terms of hard lives and scenarios being thrown at them) and Crowe is helping them and accepting them even though he once again, does not need to. He welcomes them into him life and under his wing. I also have a feeling that something is going to happen where a rumor comes up about Crowe that you can choose to leave him for, and I also wonder if his friends will leave them, they seem really loyal to him though, but in the comments on Crowe's profile the creator says that Crowe's route is a rollercoaster of emotions, and it would literally break my heart to see all/most of Crowe's friends leave him because of a rumor. I'm not too sure of this since not EVERYONE left the queen behind so they could stick by Crowes side, which is also just another reason I think MC was a farmer in their past life too since the people against the queen were seen holding pitchfork/rake. FINALLY!! I think Crowe is the queen because in the bad end, it states that Crowe's head is barely hanging on, number one guillotines cut off heads(furthering pushing Sol to be seen as the executioner!) but also royalty can ALSO be guillotined(such as Marie Antoinette!) so i think it shows that the queen was guillotined and Sol was trying to replicate that with Crowe! Also Crowe literally CRIES if you say you'll be friends with the queen and stay by her side(which i think would be even more heartbreaking for Crowe if you DID end up leaving him!)

Although I can still see Crowe and MC being switched, with MC being a royal in their past life and Crowe coming from nothing! Maybe MC being a farmer in debt was punishment for NOT helping the poor townsfolk! And Crowe also states that if the queen was nice to him, he'd be sussed out as well, maybe showing that HE WAS the commoner(if the queen was giving the commoner gifts, then maybe that's why Crowe ended up wealthy in this life!) If you choose to see the queen as a friend, Crowe says that's very noble of the MC, as expected of them, and then does not further his explanation!

Also just as a one off comment, Sol clearly likes your neck with how often he buries his face in it, but Crowe ALSO buries his face into the crook of your neck at the end of day two!!

cw TKaTB spoilers, theory, mention of guillotine, amnesia memories spoilers

TKATB and its characters belong to @fantasia-kitt !!

TKATB IS RATED +18. MINORS DONT INTERACT

Was about to post a theory about how sol could have been reincarnated to meet pumpkin again in a different timeline bc they werent allowed to be together in their own timeline, the bruise on his neck being an indication of being guillotined AND him giving purple tullips (sign of royalty and elegance) to pumpkin on valentine's, feeling insecure about his lunch (saying it isnt "extravagant" enough for pumpkin) and somehow using pardon me instead of excuse me (he doesnt usually use this type of elegant language i think. could be just me) kinda seems like we were royalty before? I mean, crowe mentioning marie antoinette and the game giving us many options for the question seems sussy to me. Why does MY opinion on the queen matter this much to both crowe and sol since their love meters go crazy with the answers? speaking of historical figures, i cant be the only one thinking sol WAS the "executioner". maybe that could be it. he was "the executioner" and we were a part of the royalty: swimming in money, expensive alcohol and the sweat of the peasants; and sol being one of them. Maybe we didnt even know who he was but him being a delusional yandere, he thought we were inseperable lovers. maybe that was why he was drawing someone in peasant clothes. He was just drawing his past life, could be the day he first saw us or the day he lost us. anything to support my theory? what inspired the game, ofc :D i was stalking fantasia's socials when i saw the game was was inspired by 3 gamea, one being Amnesia Memories (IM A HUGE FAN OF THAT SHIT). if you didnt know, amnesia memories is about a girl waking up with lost memories, trying to remember things. but bc it is an otome, she has a partner in every world she wakes up in. so if she fails to recollect her memories, she ends up in a different universe with a different partner. the relevance between tkatb and amnesia? in amnesia the final LI can also switch between different universes. he loses the mc in a fire and cant live without her. So a god helps him go to a different universe to be with her again. But everytime he goes to a universe, the world either kills the mc or him somehow. Following with pumpkin being royalty and sol not being able to live with us, what if after our death; he went to a different universe where we are classmates (equal parties!!) and now the entire purpose of his existence being, well, being with us forever?

But yknow. I decided not to post it since pretty much everyone already thinks this way! its probably what fantasia WANTS us to think to bamboozle us in the end, right? :3

P.S. not to mention his hatred for the rich. the rich and their stupid rules were the things that stopped him from being with us! but what if hyugo ALSO has switched universes along with him for his own reasons? Could this be the deal between the two, and the reason why hyugo wont allow sol to just die like that?

[myringtoe]

stairway to heaven 🪽 | lnds men

pairing: zayne x fem!reader, xavier x fem!reader, sylus x fem!reader, rafayel x fem!reader (separate)

cw: talk of spiritual beings and religion.

a/n: the basic premise of this one is that mc is an angel…like a biblical angel. i’ve had this idea for years so this is HIGHLY self indulgent. :3 i’d also love to expand on this if anyone would be interested in that. :)

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

just to preface this, this is kinda based on an oc of mine. but i’ve worded it so it’s still reader pov. :)

zayne 𓇢𓆸

legit didn’t believe you at first.

you’re gonna have to show him, full wings and everything for him to believe you.

so when you do show him, he’s astounded. zayne thinks you’re absolutely beautiful, while also being confused. he has so many questions.

one of the only times you’ll see this man speechless.

once you’ve explained how you came to live on earth, and how everything else works, he really doesn’t care about your supernatural-ness.

all he cares about is him getting to be with you, he doesn’t care what you are.

would be so worried about accidentally hurting your wings.

when you give him a feather from your wings that naturally fell off, he almost cries. it means so much to him. he puts it on his desk at work in its own little area.

whenever someone asks what it’s from, he lies and says it’s from a rare bird he saw while he was in another country.

xavier ☆

he LOVES it.

when you show him your angel form, he’s freaking out. (in a good way)

the minute you show your wings, he’s asking if you to take him flying some time. (if you say no, he gets pouty)

believes you’re the most stunning creature in the universe. will NOT stop complimenting you.

is so curious about your abilities as an angel.

then comes the questions about your origins and how you came to earth. when you answer, he’s completely fascinated.

genuinely thinks this is one of the coolest things to ever happen to him. his girlfriend is an ACTUAL ANGEL for christs sake! (see what i did there? ;))

is practically begging to touch your wings. he’s extra careful around the high points/bones of them. his touch is feather-light against them.

any time you’re in your angel form, he just stares at you in awe. he can’t believe that someone as divine as you, chose to be with him.

sylus 𖦹

another speechless one.

is terrified of “ruining” you. (as he puts it)

he thinks that because you’re angel, that he’s somehow going to ruin your angelic “innocence”.

to which you then have to explain to him that that’s literally never going to happen because that’s not how it works.

he felt like he didn’t deserved you before, now he feels like he REALLY doesn’t. this guy needs so much reassurance that he does deserve you.

(sorry if sylus is a little ooc)

after you’ve explained everything to him. he just wants to shower you with love. telling you how beautiful and amazing you are.

leads to a very lovely and very long night. ;)

he’s hyping himself up a little bit too, like ‘there’s an actual angel in my presence, and she wants ME.’

super protective of you after you tell him. he knows you’re fully capable of defending and protecting yourself, but he 1. doesn’t want others to find out and try to blackmail or take advantage of you, and 2. doesn’t want the people of the N109 zone to try and take the one good thing he has in his life.

let’s be honest, sylus has a cocky and confident attitude, which is admirable. but on the inside, he needs SO much reassurance. (which isn’t a bad thing)

rafayel 𓆝

this little shit.

he feels like he finally has someone he can relate to. with him being a sea god and all.

a mermaid and an angel…what a pair.

showing him your angel form was a mistake.

because now he wants to use you as a muse for every single painting.

literally one of the first things he asks is if he can use you for one of his paintings.

people would ask him who the person in the painting was, and with a totally serious face he would say:

“my angel girlfriend. :)”

and no one would actually believe that you were an angel, so it’s like a little inside joke between the two of you.

but seriously, he feels like he can trust you with his secret so much more, because he knows you’re hiding one too.

rafayel would of course ask the typical questions, to which you’d answer honestly.

he’s probably the most chill about it out of all of them. because he’s a “divine” being himself. while he may not have wings, he does have a fish tail and can breathe underwater.

he understands you the most out of the four.

[ferg0s]

Barou starting a new relationship with a shy girl and how he would go about it

The literal personification of trying to mix oil with water

He was used to everyone looking at him in times of need on the field - he was the king after all - so he didn’t even notice how you would take a step back whenever it came time to ordering food, or any sort of public speaking and interactions.

He naturally took the lead, and you followed suit. Thanking the lord.

He honestly didn’t even notice how shy you were- he just kinda assumed you like hearing him talk. It wasn’t until he passed by an aisle of cute keychains and decided that he wanted to get you one when he realized… he kinda didn’t know anything about you.

I mean he did. He knew your name, your height…. The colour of your eyes…. And hair… and…

“So what do you do?” He asked bluntly as the two of you walked down a park, ice creams in hand. The one he ordered. “What?” “Hobbies? Sports? What do you do in your spare time?” He asked as he looked at you, determined to get an answer. “You know… the usual stuff-“ you awkwardly chuckle. “I don’t know actually.” He was a little shit about it.

But after literally interrogating you for an entire hour, he managed to squeeze out an answer from you. You were completely cornered by him, and you shyly tell him your hobbies. He looks dumbfounded, because to him those are completely normal and healthy hobbies for someone to have. He was starting to think you’re a grave robber by the way you were acting.

Knitting? He will get you the yarn, and parade a scarf you made for him and show all his teammates. Collecting something? He will always be on the lookout for what you like, even going as far as asking his teammates to be on the lookout as well. Video games? He will learn to play your favourite game with you. Cute farming sim? Silent hill? Niche indie game that only 3 people know about? You best bet he will ask for a 4 hour lore deep dive.

Very supportive.

Lwokey will get annoyed at your shyness at one point.

At first he thinks it’s cute, but he’s not the type of person to fully baby anyone, and will force you to order your own meal. He wants the best for you :(

Will say his order and look at you to say yours, watching you stumble on your words as you try to order some fries and a sprite. And will say he’s proud of you after. But doesn’t do it often because he can see the genuine terror in your eyes - only does it even it’s the two of you in line on a slow day.

Slowly learns to accept that you’re passionate in your own way. He’s loud and proud, whereas you like to keep to yourself. In a way he likes that you’re so open with him, that you let him see the stuff you don’t show other people. Thinks it’s adorable.

Will 100% try to make you more comfortable and less shy. You bought a new dress and don’t want to wear it, he will bluntly tell you it looks good and it would be a waste of money not to wear it.

Encourages your fashion choices. Polly pocket platform heels? He loves them. Bold lipstick? He will buy you earring that match. He quietly realized he liked seeing you happy. And you were happiest being yourself.

He’s not a big fan of grossly obvious PDA. Loves holding your hand or when you grab his bicep when you two walk together. You like it because it doesn’t draw unnecessary attention and he likes it cuz you’re always attached next to him and he doesn’t have to worry about actually loosing you. Plus he likes it when you grab his bicep.

Took forever to convince you to come to one of his games. You were too nervous to get into an arena with so many people - said you could come with a group of his teammates girlfriends - but you hated the idea of being with people you didn’t know.

He got really good at spotting you in the crowd. Didn’t matter where you were sitting, he just trained himself to see you. You were too shy to loudly cheer like everyone else, blending into the crowd due to that. But it didn’t matter.

In a weird way. He likes that hes the only one who gets to see you this happy, because hes the same with you. Slowly learning to take his guard down, be more open.

You’re learning to be confident while he’s learning to be trusting.

[violenteconomics]

remember this post i made about ace and epel (and eventually the other freshmen) pranking their upperclassmen?

yeah, so, here’s an idea for a significantly less funny prequel:

the first-years actually met their housewardens as kids, where they got very attached to one another, but absolutely none of them remember this. 

i’ve got a drabble written for riddle, ace, and deuce, but for the others, i’m completely lost, lol.

^

(warning: mentions of child abuse)

^

4-year-old ace trappola, a pint-sized brat who loses a ball in dr rosehearts’s backyard. since dr rosehearts has an extremely sour reputation around town for being impossible to be polite with, ace decides it’s not worth the patience it’ll take to knock on her door. so instead, he climbs her fence to retrieve it.

that’s when he notices the boy sitting by the windowsill, with a thousand books stacked all around him, looking very intrigued at the book in his hands. ace has never seen someone so engrossed with a book that doesn’t even have a picture on the cover, and having absolutely no filter, even at that age, he simply walks up to him and asks what he’s doing.

at first, riddle tries to shoo him away, knowing how his mother will react when she finds out there’s a random kid stepping on her perfectly-cut grass. eventually, though, ace’s childish stubbornness wins out, and riddle tells him about the history book he’s reading.

[ace is alice and riddle is alice’s sister in this scenario in case you don’t get the reference, they make me insane, okay—]

everyday, ace comes back to the windowsill at the same time (at riddle’s request, because he only has so much independent study time) just to listen to him. everyday, he says that it’s stupid, boring, and he can’t believe riddle actually reads book without pictures. everyday, he comes back to sit under riddle’s windowsill and listen to him go on about food chemistry.

but then dr rosehearts finds out.

ace doesn’t really know what happens after she showed up to their doorstep, looking down on him like he was a bug underneath her heeled feet, but next thing he knows, his dad’s telling him and brother that they’re moving to a different town. he tells ace that their house just isn’t pretty enough, but ace is young— not stupid.

(in the future, whenever ace scores high on a test, and riddle will smile and tell him he’s proud of him. every single time, it leaves a bad taste in his mouth for reasons ace can’t explain.)

^

5-year-old deuce spade only knows ace as “the kid who moved out”, but through some wicked twist of fate, he’s the next person to lose something in dr roseheart’s backyard.

deuce’s mom actually used to work for dr rosehearts as her secretary, but deuce doesn’t really like her, because she used to make his mom work long hours with little pay in return. his mom lived in dr rosehearts’s medical practice more than she actually lived in the crappy apartment they could barely afford. he was so glad when she quit.

but unfortunately, dr rosehearts’s house is right next to the park, and losing balls in her garden is unfortunately very common for most kids in the neighborhood. and since deuce really doesn’t want to talk to her, he jumps over her fence instead.

this time, riddle’s the one who notices him.

riddle’s missing ace a lot (he never found out why he stopped coming around), so to fill the hole in his heart, he invited deuce over. sheepishly, deuce walks over and lets riddle tell him about the book on agricultural trade he’s been reading. deuce doesn’t quite get it as fast as ace did, but unlike ace, he’s patient and hard-working and oh-so earnest in his attempts to understand.

of course, dr rosehearts isn’t going to help this relationship in the slightest. a few weeks later, she waits for deuce right outside the fence, before dragging him off once he’s out of riddle’s view. she mocks his attempts at trying to learn something that’s clearly above his mental capacity, for trying to be someone above his station, for knowing the rules and being too stupid to stick to them.

(“What sort of pitiful education have you received, that you cannot follow such simple rules?”)

when she delivers deuce back to his house, his mother says nothing. when she tells him they’re moving to a bigger house on the complete other side of the queendom, deuce doesn’t argue.

(deuce couldn’t tell you why doing so bad in school frustrated him to the point of becoming a delinquent. he really couldn't.)

[ceilidhtransing]

I'm extremely done with electionposting but I feel like there's one huge elephant in the room that's barely being talked about vis-à-vis the whole issue of non-voters. I see so many posts to the effect of “does the result really indicate that the people who didn't vote are bad, or that the Democrats simply failed to convince them to vote for Harris?” and I have to talk about that.

Obligatory clarifications because people are understandably very heated at the moment and I know people will jump to take this entire post the wrong way:

I know that the tens of millions of people who did actually vote for Trump are much, much more of a glaring active problem than the people who didn't vote at all.

I know that it is, overall, in most circumstances, bad to assert that a candidate is just “owed” your vote, rather than having to win your vote.

I know that Trump's base is unpersuadable and will vote for him whatever happens. I'm not talking about them; I'm talking about non-voters, particularly anyone who voted Democrat in the past but didn't show up this time.

I know that it's shitty that people should have to settle for a candidate they don't like very much because that's the only way to avoid a much greater evil. It's a rubbish situation to be in, but Harris and Trump were the only viable options presented at this election, and nothing changes that.

I know that some people abstained as a (extremely misguided and counterproductive) “protest” against the situation in Gaza. But if the numbers we're seeing are accurate, Harris lost 15 million voters compared to Biden, and I really can't see all of those being “protest-abstainers”. Some of them will be, but clearly a lot of people simply didn't show up, and if you reply with something like “well not doing a genocide would have helped them!” I will just assume you haven't read this. I'm not actually talking about the “protest-abstainers”, I'm talking about the passive non-voters.

I know that the Democrats are hardly, hardly perfect and that a lot of people do not trust them to deliver the kind of meaningful change that they need. Trust me, whatever criticisms of the Democrats you have, I know. They are tangential to the actual point of this post.

But it is properly mind-boggling to me that we have got to a point where we genuinely talk about people needing to be “convinced” to vote against a candidate so thoroughly, off-the-charts terrible as Trump, and as far as I'm concerned it speaks to the incredible job much of the media has done for the last I don't know how many years at continually normalising and sane-washing him, his ideas, his actions, and his speech.

If we were to teleport back to some time significantly before the Trump Era - before US politics got quite so wild, before it became in any way “normal” for a president to rack up an uncountable number of the kind of scandals that individually would have sunk any previous president but which are apparently just the way things are now - and comprehensively describe Trump to the average voter, and then say that he's in an election against a very standard middle-of-the-road don't-rock-the-boat Democrat, and ask “one of these is going to be the president; how are you voting?” the response is very likely to be “fuck me, the Democrat obviously! jesus christ just don't put that guy back in charge!”

Trump is such an appallingly bad candidate on literally every front that I can hardly believe the conversation focuses on whether Harris did enough to convince people to vote for her rather than the fact that Trump himself has spent most of the last decade doing what should be an incredible job at convincing people to vote for her.

And I know the general adage about “people need to be convinced to vote for a candidate, not just against another candidate!” but fucking hell, when one of the candidates is THAT GUY, it really should not take much at all to convince you to vote for whoever isn't him. Where's that meme about Any Statewide Election in North Carolina that has “Adolf Fucking Hitler” winning against “Bland Normiedem” 49% to 48%? Because that's what it feels like when people talk about voters just not being hyped enough by the Harris campaign to vote for her. “Yeah, I know Adolf Fucking Hitler is pretty terrible, but Bland Normiedem just hasn't done a good enough job at winning my vote, and really both sides are bad, you know?”

The thing is that all of the things people say about “you need to run a positive campaign, not just a negative one” and “you need to earn people's vote, not just take them for granted” and “you need to have a good reason to vote for you, not just that you're not the other guy” etc I totally, absolutely agree with - in a normal election with normal politics and normal candidates! None of what we're seeing with Trump is, or should be, normal! “You won't need to vote again” isn't normal, “dictator on day one” isn't normal, running with the intimate support of a bunch of christofascists who are open about their desire to turn America into an authoritarian hellscape isn't normal, and it has been utterly maddening to see people treat this as just another standard uninspiring election and not a code red “for the love of god stop this guy” situation! To use that reference again, it is an absurdity to frame things in terms of Bland Normiedem needing to run a great campaign to convince people to vote for him when his opponent is Adolf Fucking Hitler!

There are many questions to be asked about this election, but re: people not showing up to vote for Harris, a major one that needs to be asked far more often is “how the fuck did Trump and his whole campaign become so normalised to voters that “whether you're persuaded enough by Harris's campaign” is even a serious question? how is Trump Being Trump not persuasive enough for most people?” And this post is long already, but the media has a lot to answer for regarding how they have consistently sane-washed what he's said, normalised his positions, hell, normalised the fact that he's even running in the first place given his many crimes and the way he responded to losing the last election. Trump's enormous base is absolutely the most pressing problem, but this time around that base has been directly enabled to trample everyone else by millions and millions of people apparently just not being “motivated enough” to stop him. That is also a problem.

In no sane circumstances should Trump be a candidate that you have to be extensively, enthusiastically persuaded to keep out of office, and yet here we are, talking about how well or badly Harris convinced people to vote for her when literally everything about Trump ought to have been doing a good enough job of that anyway. How the fuck did any of this become normal? How the fuck did we reach a point where anyone - especially previous Democrat voters - is looking at these two candidates and going “eh, I'll just sit this one out, Harris hasn't done enough to earn my vote”?

(And in case I haven't been sufficiently clear, please don't reply to this with any variation of “she should have done xyz!” or “maybe if she hadn't done xyz!” This is not about debating her strategies or the merits of her campaign. A different discussion is the place for that. My point is that Trump is so out-of-this-galaxy leagues worse than her in every conceivable way that she shouldn't have had to “run a brilliant campaign” in order to sweep votes from the tens of millions of Americans who aren't Trump's base. Anyone like her running against Trump should have won in a fucking landslide and the fact that she didn't is not just an indictment of “a campaign that didn't do enough to persuade people” but also an indictment of the electorate and of the media's continual normalisation of Trump. To place blame entirely on “well she didn't run a good enough campaign” - as if in a race between Bland Normiedem and Adolf Fucking Hitler the whole focus should be on the merits or demerits of Bland Normiedem's campaign rather than the fact that Adolf Fucking Hitler is Adolf Fucking Hitler - is to miss an enormous part of the picture and also to reinforce the normalisation of Trump as just any other standard reasonable candidate. It's to buy into the whole deeply false “both sides” thing that the media loves to do, where we go “well Candidate A here is a near-octogenarian quasi-fascist wannabe dictator and convicted felon running on a platform infused with Christian nationalism and hardcore authoritarianism, who refuses to accept he lost the last election and essentially tried to hold onto power by force, and who has spent the last four years in countless trials regarding all the insane crimes he got up to both during and outwith his presidency, but on the other side, how watertight really are Candidate B's policies?” and pretend the two candidates are even remotely equivalent or comparable, and this very approach is a huge part of the problem.)

[vidavalor]

@tawnyontumblr I'm sure the scrappy Whickber Street residents will have some kind of role to play! And this is an example of how The Finale doesn't need to do any set up of new characters. We already have all we'll ever need in place.

@ao3cassandraic I was being more facetious than literal in the original post as I actually think "Go Team!" and helping Adam see what was coming at him is arguably the most important role on the tarmac in Tadfield but my point is that it takes a slew of characters to stop Armageddon with the supporting ones doing most of the heavy lifting when it comes to action, while Crowley & Aziraphale have less direct action but more symbolic weight to the actions that they do have.

I'm not sure that I agree with your idea that it was Crowley & Aziraphale who stopped a war between Heaven & Hell in S1. Beez and Gabriel aren't in charge of that war-- The Metatron and Satan were. It was a war that couldn't be had without Adam beginning it so it was really Adam who stopped the war by his refusal to start it, imho. It got delayed while they regrouped but it was mainly delayed because they had to figure out how it was supposed to go in the wake of Adam saying nah to Armageddon. We could maybe argue that Crowley & Aziraphale helping Adam against Satan helped Adam to see that he had the power to refuse? I tend to think that's a bit more Adam's innate personality, though. He didn't need them to be able to say that he has all the world that he wants.

In the bit you're talking about in your post, I think Crowley & Aziraphale basically find out from Gabriel & Beez that none of the four of them have any clue about The Ineffable Plan/Divine Plan/Great Plan. It's a shocking moment to Crowley and Aziraphale because, until this point, they had thought that Gabriel and Beez (or at least Gabriel) knew more than they did. I think that scene is more the start of the four main characters beginning to get closer to being on the same side than anything else. The war wasn't really stopped so much as delayed and Adam is responsible for that because Gabriel & Beez have to go back and figure out a new plan since the antichrist isn't playing ball. Crowley & Aziraphale indirectly helped Adam with Satan but I really think it's just Adam who stopped the war.

I think that "omg no one knows what The Ineffable Plan is" scene might also be likely to have a parallel scene coming back around pretty quickly because the fastest way for everyone to realize that The Metatron is a fraud is for them to collectively demand to speak to God. They're only going to think to to do this, though, once they've first asked Gabriel if he knows how to speak to God, thinking that The Supreme Archangel must, right? When Gabriel tells them he's never spoken to God and he doesn't know how to do so, they're all going to demand together that The Metatron go get God and, when he can't, rebel against him.

If you're talking S2, though? Crowley & Aziraphale could be said to have helped delay Armageddon: Round Two, though, because they are partially what inspires Gabriel and Beez to get together, which leads to Gabriel mutinying, which delayed Armageddon: Round Two long enough to bring us to the plot we're sitting in ahead of The Finale.

I find it really funny that people think that Crowley and Aziraphale have to personally stop Armageddon: Round Two in The Finale and have this really long and involved plot to do so. Armageddon: Round One was stopped in about eight minutes by a quartet of eleven year olds. Crowley and Aziraphale were also there, I suppose...

Crowley and Aziraphale's entire contribution was to roll in out of nowhere with four seconds to spare and be like "You, Antichrist Kid! Your bio-dad is literally The Devil and he's coming soon so think quick!" and then cheer Adam on. They both made it to Tadfield separately on a wing and a prayer at the last possible minute and their role was basically GO TEAM!!! while The Them actually saved the day. Newt did more to stop Armageddon: Round One than Crowley and Aziraphale did.

Yeah, that could be different in The Finale but I'd still wager that it's more likely that Crowley and Aziraphale are more the motivation that inspires the supporting characters to take more direct action than that they're the ones who take out Satan and The Metatron and save the world directly themselves. Their role is inspiring the other characters to see that a different world is possible and supporting them as they do. They've actually done a lot of that work already.

S2 seemed like it was setting up for this a bit. Uriel's refusal to kill Maggie and Nina and support of Gabriel in 2.06 indicates she's on our main characters' sides now. Jim + Team vs. Satan seems likely after the suggestion in S2 that Gabriel is the only one who Satan is afraid of, since they have equal power. And you know who I bet is going be the one who deals some extreme sanctions to The Metatron? Michael. I don't think she's going to take finding out that it's all been a sham very well. Plus? She is the duty officer. 😂

There's going to be plenty of time for Crowley and Aziraphale to reunite because the story really works out in spite of--and kind of because of-- the stuff they've fucked up, not because of the stuff they do particularly well. I think this will be true in The Finale, too:

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 11 | Books, Breezes and Broken Limbs

summary: one cool autumn afternoon, you’ve been reading your book in peace and minding your own business until your doorbell suddenly rings and you’re met with an unusual sigh, a zombie man holding his fallen arm. Will you help him out or freak out by the sight of the monster and slam the door in his face?

warnings: ANGST&FLUFF, (hot) zombies, sewing limbs together, detached limbs, scars, needles poking through skin & possibly more!

authors note: the links don’t work on my phone so I’ll paste them later on my computer bc for a few days they havent been working on my phone and it’s rlly ticking me off 😭 yall judge this if it’s angst or not bc idkk rlly, this is kinda rushed but luv yall sm and I hope yall like this idea as much I do.

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist | moodboard

A cool autumn afternoon could be noticed as the soft wind hit my revealed skin and littered goosebumps across it, my window was creaked open while I sat under a cozy blanket in front of a warm fireplace, the hot flames casting a warm orange glow across the room as a hardcover sat in my hands. My eyes scanning over the words written down on paper and engulfing me into an imaginary world you could just loose yourself in.

Faint music radiated from the record player placed in the room somewhere but my mind is too concentrated on the authentic world of the author, I don’t realize my doorbell has started ringing but as soon as I notice, my eyes rip away from the page, tossing the warm blanket over the headrest of my chair. My feet drift over the fuzzy carpets sprawled on the floor before I reach my front door, I grab ahold of the door handle and slowly open the door.

I’m met with an unusual sight, only portrayed differently in different genres of movies and books but never to be seen in the real world. It’s a tall man with a green tint to his skin, differently shaped scars and sew marks all across his skin as torn clothes adore his body, he seems to be holding his other arm as it looks like it had fallen off but he doesn’t look like he’s experiencing any pain. My mind goes straight to the conclusion he could be a zombie? They said there was only a possibility of the undead existing but I’m experiencing it first hand.

“How can I help you?” I greet him politely, not wanting for him to think that I take him as a freak or a monster that he is, he clearly needs help with his arm and I feel bad for him, no matter what species he is, I want to treat him like I treat everyone else. “Didn’t expect to see a zombie at ya’ doorstep today, hm?” Are the first words that leave his mouth, his voice seeming withered and tired but no ounce of pain, not even seeming to hide it. Maybe he is a zombie?

“Answering ya’ question though, I could use some help with my arm. Do ya’ got a sewing kit by any chance?” He calmly speaks and I nod my head positively, slightly admiring him before letting him walk inside. I’ve really never seen an actual form of creature like him outside of my fantasy world, I lead him into the living room where I was just earlier and settle him down on the couch as I walk into the kitchen to grab the sewing kit I keep in one of the higher cabinets.

I could feel a pair of eyes follow my moves as I reach into the higher cabinet and graze the tips of my fingers over it, finally grabbing onto the small box I bring it to the living room, gently placing it on the coffee table in-front of the couch as I settle down next to the man. “Why wouldn’t you go to the hospital with this? Will you be able to move it without attaching the nerves together?” I ask curiously, my brows slightly furrowing in question as he lines his detached arm with the place where it’s missing, “I don’t think they would take in a zombie, besides they would probably want to take me for some kind of tests or discovery shit.” He answered, glancing over at me as I scavenge the small box for any fitting needles with my back slightly bend.

“Okay, that seems reasonable. Do you have a favorite color?” I requested, turning my head to look at him and he looks away, pretending like he wasn’t looking. A giggle as a response to his horrible hiding, a knowing look spreading across my face, “Well, firstly whats your favorite color?” He shoots the question back at me, not really knowing what he’s attempting to do I decide to be nice and just reply than question him again. “Um, it’s pink, what about it? He nods and says the thing I’ve never would’ve expected, “Yeah, pink is my favorite color.”

Another soft giggle rumbles in my throat as I pick out a soft pink thread, holding it up for him to see. “This one?” “Yup, exactly that one.” I sit up and turn over to him, preparing the thread by threading it through the hole in the needles head. Tying everything I need to before going over and poking the needle into his skin, starting to sew his arm back on. “Does it hurt?” Glancing up to check if he can feel any pain and he shakes his head negatively, “Not at all, don’t worry ‘bout me” he reassures and I go back to sewing his arm back on.

After a few minutes passed and soft chatter and chuckles filled the air around us, I was done sewing his arm back on and moved away from him, putting some distance between us now. “There you go! Is it good now?” He replies with moving his arm around, seeing how the pink strings look on his green tinted skin he smiles and nods his head. “Thanks, appreciate the help. I should probably head out now, don’t wanna hold ya’ any longer.” He chuckles before pulling out and handing me a small piece of paper with some numbers wrote on it as well as a name scribbled down, I could make out the name ‘Christopher’ that was the one written down.

He stands up from his seat and I follow behind him, leading him over to the front door where I first saw him and we interacted, a feeling of familiarity washes over me as we say our goodbyes and he leave, my gaze dropping down at the paper he handed me and realize it’s a phone number which I guess belongs to him. I return back inside of my house but instead of indulging in my unfinished book I reminisce about the oddly attractive creature who’s arm I’ve sewn on today, never thinking it would happen to me and not realizing what it can bring along the way…

@hearts4werka | do not copy, repost nor plagiarize any of my work. You can be ‚inspired’ by my work but pls credit me and and ask for permission first!

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Special tag ! : @ifwdominicfike |

[panpanghost]

part 2 of this thing:

Macaque heard them coming, Wukong's new friends. They were here when he first woke up, actually the strange kid was the first person he saw when he opened his eyes. The little fella looked so scared and worried about him, he even promised to find a way to save him no matter what. Such a nice kid.

But, he doesn't know who the kid is... After he left last time, Macaque asked Wukong about his identity but Wukong, strangely, just looked at him shocked and never gave him an answer, after that Macaque got the idea that he lost a part of his memories.

Macaque has been trying to get his memories back, but it's like shovelling through a mountain, he can't remember anything from the past years, he can't tell how long it's been. He tried asking Wukong about it, but, for some reason, Wukong is lying, he knows he's lying. He tells him not to think about it too much and just enjoy the present, Wukong won't answer no matter what he asks, he'd either avoid the question or lie.

But Macaque doesn't doubt Wukong, he knows he still cares about him, sure he was acting weirdly when Macaque went to sleep and shower with him, but he didn't kick him out or throw him away... he was acting strangely though... maybe... maybe they aren't that close anymore, maybe they drifted apart and haven't been together for a long time and Wukong is letting him stay because he feels bad for him-

No, no that can't be it, if it were the case then Wukong would've straight up told him to leave and he hasn't done that yet, in fact he's doing the complete opposite, he won't let Macaque leave his sight let alone the island. He's also been a lot more physical... not that Macaque is complaining about that... but still, that is not how you treat someone you want to get away from.

Maybe he can ask the kid, but would that upset Wukong? Shit... He can't stay like this.. Damn it. He'll deal with Wukong when he has to.

_"Hey Wukong, your friends are coming. Should we go greet them?" he asked playing with Wukong's hair, under the shadow of an old tree,

_"They are?!" Wukong got up from Macaque's lap dusting and putting himself together as if he was caught doing something he shouldn't. What's with him? Macaque doesn't remember Wukong being the shy type. No, Macaque is they shy one, Wukong used to have fun tormenting him in front of others.

_"Yeh, they'll be at the house any minute now."

_"Alright, thanks for telling me."

_"No problem, let's go see them, I'm actually kinda curious to know what that kid found out about the crown. All the monk said was that he felt a dark energy from it then nothing else."

_"Yeh.. about that. Why don't you just stay and rest a little more. I'll talk to them."

_"What? Why? It kind'a concerns me, don't you think I should be there?" Macaque is really starting to lose his temper,

_"Actually.." think Wukong, think! "When they first arrived here, you attacked them thinking they were enemies, and.. well... you guys don't get along that much..." would he believe that? it's not entirely a lie though..

_"oh- ok... I'll wait for you then." Macaque feels really bad, did he really attack them? but they seem so nice. It's really upsetting him, after what he'd done to them, they are still trying to help him, he should apologise, maybe make them some apology sweets, Macaque can't cook but he for sure can make killer desserts.

_"Hey, don't feel so down about it, I'll be back soon, ok?" Wukong feels a little bad for upsetting Macaque, but this is for the best, yes, it's for the best... is it?

_"ok." Macaque gave him a little smile. He should listen to Wukong, it's not like he can remember what he's apologising for. Wukong will take care of it.

[procyonloser]

Pt 5

Lucifer stood nervously on the stage, after Adam clapped him on the shoulder, winking at him. He didn't look bothered to see Lucifer, but Lucifer was bothered to see him. Why was Adam here, at the zoo? Did he work here and at the aquarium? What, did he work at the wildlife park too? The arboretum? Six flags?

"Okay, Lute, if you want to put Hoot away, we can start the demonstration!" Adam said happily, and the girl on stage with him shot Lucifer the most toxic look he'd ever seen outside of a courtroom, before she walked over and had the owl step down onto a stand. When she came back, her expression hadn't changed much.

"What are we doing, Adam?" Lute asked, not the most amazing actress in the world, but Lucifer didn't think it'd be a good idea to tell her that right now.

"I'm going to have you and Lucifer stand about a foot apart from one another, and then we're going to see what Sweetness can do." Adam said easily, leaving Lucifer wondering who the fuck Sweetness was. The eagle? Who named it that?

The gist of it was Adam was going to have the very large eagle fly between Lucifer and the angry woman, narrowly avoiding hitting them. It went off without a hitch, Lucifer felt the power of the eagle going past him, the gust of wind from it's wings, and it was weirdly invigorating to be close to.

But all Lucifer could think about was Adam leaning in to his ear after and whispering to him to come back stage after the show was over. He'd turned red again as he made his way back into the bleachers, beside Charlie, who was talking animatedly and at length as to how cool he looked, and how scary it must have been.

Over the course of the show, Adam brought out snakes and spiders and one fairly large cat, and a parrot that Charlie seemed to love. The show was a hit with the kids that were there, and they all got a little adventure coloring book for their efforts, passed out by Lute, who handed Lucifer theirs with much more force than needed.

They lingered behind after, until Adam poked his head out and gestured for them to come back around. Charlie seemed confused, until they walked through the door, and could see all the holding enclosures for the animals, and her eyes got huge. The Lute girl was leaning against a table, glaring at him openly, but Lucifer tried to ignore her to the best of his abilities.

"I don't work here," Adam said, taking Lucifer's attention off of her. He blinked in surprise, not knowing what to say. "I mean, I used to work here, with some of their aquatics, but then I got the job at the aquarium. But, I'd been doing this show for years, and I have friends here like Lute, so I still volunteer to do it a few times a week."

"As long as you don't think I'm stalking you," Lucifer laughed nervously, not knowing what to say, especially not in front of Lute. "Charlie loved the show, though, didn't you CharBar?"

Charlie barely nodded, crouched and sitting eye to eye with a raccoon.

"How about you?" Adam asked, and Lucifer nodded repeatedly.

"It was great! I love birds, to tell you the truth. It was too bad the parakeet exhibit was closed, I love feeding them on sticks. So does Charlie." Lucifer told him, and Adam hummed to himself.

"I can get you in," Adam said, and Lute sent him a look.

"Adam..."

"It's fine, relax Lute." Adam said with a shrug, clearly not caring much for her opinion on the matter, which gave Lucifer an odd sense of victory over the woman.

"You're going to get in trouble," Lute warned. "They shouldn't even be back here..."

"He's a friend," Adam said with a hint finality in his voice, turning to leave and nodding for Lucifer to follow him.

"Is that what they're calling it now?" Lute asked under her breath, but Lucifer had heard it anyway. What had she meant by that; and did Adam actually see him as a friend? Lucifer didn't fully know, but at least he had a good view, watching Adam walk ahead of him.

Lucifer laughed as Charlie was suddenly swarmed by about ten parakeets, as soon as they'd gotten into the parakeet exhibit. Adam had given her a few seed sticks, and the birds reacted in kind. Lucifer took a few pictures of his daughter, deciding one was most definitely going to be his new phone wallpaper.

"Hey, you want to go on a date sometime?"

Lucifer was so distracted by Charlie and the birds, he'd almost missed the question, but it sank in quickly enough, and Lucifer was left blinking owlishly up at Adam.

"If not, it's whatever, I just thought-" Adam glanced away. "It doesn't matter."

"Oh my god, no, yes." Lucifer breathed out, and Adam looked confused. "I mean, yes. God, yes. I'd love to. Pretty please."

Adam laughed at the tacked on nicety, grinning down at him as a parakeet landed on Lucifer's shoulder. "You're such a fucking weirdo. I like that."

[utilitycaster]

actually taking the last bit out of the tags of that post because here is the thing. and I'm going to use specific examples, because I think it's illustrative.

the two groups of people in this fandom who have specifically harassed me have been, as I've said before, imo/dna fans mad I don't find the ship very good, and (to be fair, only on one occasion) shadowido/mauk fans who got mad that I said that tagging ao3 fic about throuples with individual pairs sucks. [hilariously the latter was not even about them at all, it was about me looking for imogen and fearne ship fic that wasn't witchy trio fic and finding it almost impossible to filter].

I do not like these people because they have engaged with harassment. It is not about identity; it is about actions. My closest friend, and the first non-family member I talked to on Wednesday morning, is a bi woman in an open marriage to a woman, with a longterm male partner. I was a bridesmaid in her wedding. The last time I visited her, in September, I was joined by other mutual friends, who are similarly in an open marriage with longterm partners and at least one relationship between two women.

I am entirely secure, in my personal life, that I am kind and accepting to queer women (of which I am one) and to poly people (of which I am not), and so I hope you can appreciate that if someone attempts to attack me on the internet on these grounds because I do not have the same exact opinions on pretend people kissing, my response isn't "oh my god I should go off and die because I'm a terrible person," it's "get a load of this moron making wild assumptions about my personal life based on a single data point in my preferences in fiction; I'm going to make them regret doing this to me, and hopefully anyone else, because this is genuinely a detrimental behavior in the fandom space." And also, you know what. If they were a homeless person on the street and asked for a dollar I would still give it to them if their attacks were merely verbal (yes, I know the idea of someone screaming "YOU'RE A LESBOPHOBE FOR HATING IMO/DNA can i have a dollar" outside the grocery store is rather comical, and I think that is how you need to consider statements like "um actually I won't help pro-shippers." Imagine that conversation happening in an irl activist group. Everyone would be like "uh...anyway, how do we fight back against this hostile bench architecture.")

I think right now it is vitally important to remember what actual bigotry looks like and what needs to be fought, and the reason I tapped the sign of this post last night is literally that I think you are wasting time and energy engaging with people who think bigotry is "criticizing the pretend guy Ashton Greymoore for concrete but pretend choices they made" when I also think most people criticizing Ashton would, if Ashton were real, still toss them change if they needed it, or are people who currently donate to or otherwise work with local programs that assist nb people, disabled people, or unhoused children.

I like to argue and I like to engage in fandom and I will continue doing that because it is a source of enjoyment and comfort for me, but I really urge everyone to ask yourself "am I arguing about genuinely different readings, or do I think that everyone who doesn't like my blorbo ship is a bad person" because if it's the latter, I think you need to nip that in the bud of online fandom before it grows into something darker and worse. A lot of irl hate and bigotry starts from a place of "everyone who doesn't agree with me and give me what I want all the time is wrong and evil" and perhaps I am too optimistic, but I think many people who say things like that in fandom just are caught up in the drama of it all and are capable of exercising empathy when they stop treating shipping or interpretation like a popularity contest that, if they lose, indicates that everyone around them is irredeemable. But I also think it can be the start of a really bad path.

[hyenafu]

I know this might seem like a bit of a random question, but what are some criticisms of Slightly Damned you can't stand, and what are some you think are at least somewhat valid? I only ask because I do have a few problems with the comic (not really gonna go into here because I don't want to come off as too critical obviously) but I feel like some of the more noteworthy ones have been too long established to just change it altogether, and the best one can do is make something better from its foundation (which I must say, you've done a really good job at ^^)

The complaints that I think are the most unfair are by bigots who think my comic is only getting more inclusive because I'm pandering to wokeness or whatever. These people are also the most likely to misgender me and have no idea what they're talking about. They just can't stand the bare minimum of gay and are often hypocritical, using fallacies as the basis of their arguments. It's tempting to want to argue back, but when has that ever worked on the internet? I think the most valid complaint is that the pacing of the comic is too slow. Sure. Not much I can do about that one. My comic alone doesn't pay all my bills. If I focus exclusively on work, I get depressed, so I have to goof off sometimes. I'm just one person. I don't have a team. I'm doing the best I can already. Another valid complaint is that people don't like my blend of humor and drama. Sometimes readers find it inappropriate or jarring. It's valid because I recognize it as a difference of opinion and understand why they feel that way. But I don't care. I like my weird mix of goofy faces and drama. I sometimes make jokes during periods of great stress in real life. I love all the wacky faces and over-the-top cartoon action among dire circumstances in comics like One Piece and Usagi Yojimbo. Like, it's just my style, man I don't seek out unsolicited advice about my comic. Some people may think that's snobbish of me, but the truth is, very little of what you find that way is actually valuable.

"And as to those critics, she said that she’s managed to do something that might make us all better off- she doesn’t read the comment sections. In perhaps the most roundabout poignant part of the talk, she likened receiving feedback about her work as being like consuming food. She would take a pie from someone she knew and trusted but compared taking unsolicited barbs from strangers as “licking a handle on the subway.” She used to pay very close attention to that kind of critique because she felt that it somehow would make her a better creator but ultimately decided that it was only toxic." - I HAVE SEEN OLIVIA JAIMES, THE CARTOONIST BEHIND THE NEW NANCY, by Rocko Jerome (2018)

Besides the outright hateful sentiments, a lot of unsolicited criticism can be categorized as "I don't like this story because it didn't do what I wanted it to do." Which is fine. I do the same thing when I try to process stories and talk to my friends about them.

But I don't get in the author's face to tell them I think they did a bad job. At the end of the day, no matter how crap I think someone's story might be, I'm not psychic. I don't really know if they did exactly what they set out to do. For example, people have never stopped giving me crap about the death of certain characters. But their whining has only made my convictions stronger. I don't like when other stories don't take deaths seriously, with a real sense of permanence and grief that is not easily solved. To someone else, seeing that character be alive might have solved all sorts of problems they had-- but that's not my story. I've had someone tell me that the focus on Buwaro and Kieri's mushy romance is too distracting to the main story. I don't think that person knew that a large part of why I started making this comic in the first place was as a vehicle for my OTP. I also want to make said vehicle entertaining and worthwhile. If I didn't succeed for that person, that's fine. But don't tell me that half the reason I made the comic is distracting from it. What do they know about what I want? What do you really know about what the author wanted to achieve? That isn't to say that my comic is immune to scrutiny. Of course it has problems; every story has problems, depending on your perspective and the basis by which it's getting judged. I've solicited and received thoughtful criticism and helpful advice from teachers, my advisor, my friends, and from reading/watching tutorials. Some I agreed with, others I chose to ignore. Sometimes it just took a while for me to come around. I hope I never stop learning and improving. Like you said, I have to keep working with the foundation I already set. But I don't feel trapped by it; my creativity is being challenged in new ways. I have a lot of playing pieces and now I get to see what kinds of connections I can make between them with my older, more experienced (both good and bad) mind. Since Slightly Damned is a story serialized over a long period of time, a certain amount of it is made up as I go along. I do have plans and goals, of course, but I'm also discovering this world alongside my readers.