#anomalie care bears

[darknoverse]

Care bears oc moment yeah boy

I forgor to share all of these oopsieeeee

You know I actually need to properly talk about my AU but I keep forgetting

Anyways a 2 fake screenshots story . Basically Timidheart Civet , even though he's a sweet wittle baby who wouldn't even hurt a fly cuz he's afraid of his own shadow lol , he still ended up working along with Bugge Boogie and her fellas. (All of them are comically evil they can do evil shit legit and be like idc but they care).

Ok so the manticore looking gal is called Anomalie btw. She was a failed evil magic experiment , was supposed to be like an anti-care bear but ended up being way "too nice" according to her original master who went "nah I ain't keeping this smh". She ends up working along Bugge too, she like the big bully who's actually a softie and would kick anyone who looks at Timidheart wrong .

Oh also here's some Bugge and Fright cuz I can do whatever I want

[casuallyanidiot]

Yantober Day 1

Love at First Sight [Yandere Forest God x Gn.Reader]

Using @ozzgin's Yantober prompt list!

Tipjar :)

Tw! Dead dove do not Eat! MDNI, NSFW Noncon, oral sex (recieving), Yandere, Implied kidnapping

You go into a newly acquired piece of land to survey it for your job when things start to become strange...

1.7k words

There was something wrong with these woods.

You were used to seeing some kind of anomaly in your field studies. Maybe the deer or rabbit population was too high, or you would find that an invasive species was beating out a more native one. It was never crazy though outside of the normal, exhausting sludge that was conservationist work. You were sent out by the local government to different wildlife reserves, or areas that were undeveloped to do some basic surveying and then come back and give them updates.

This forest wasn’t any different, initially. It was a newer addition to your city’s ownership, sold to them by a smaller, dying rural town. There were talks of what to do with the land, but first you had to be sent down to make sure they wouldn’t violate any regulations or kill off an endangered species. Not that they really cared. After all, your job was to get professionally ignored.

So you went in, camping gear and your truck in tow, and you began to explore.

Again, it was normal at first.

It was an average area. Normal flora and fauna. In fact, it was kinda impressive how well the area seemed to be doing. There was hardly any trash, no signs of destruction, no weird occurrences. It made you feel kinda happy. You went about your days just noting stuff down, humming happily all the while.

It was fine until the staring started. It began with a squirrel or two. They would just sit there, unmoving, unblinking, always just in the corner of your vision. Odd, sure, but maybe they were trying to see if they could get some of your food you always carried with you? Days passed and it escalated to a couple of birds added in, perched on branches and hidden by thick leaves. Then some bunnies, not even eating or twitching their little noses.

You thought you were going crazy, but nothing could prepare you for when the bigger animals started doing the same damn thing. The deer were one thing, already unsettling and strange, but having a bear watch you, still as a stagnate pond, was terrifying. You weren’t sure what to make of it. The only time the oddly behaving creatures would move were when either you’d get too close (in which they’d back off) or when you explored the forest (in which they’d follow after you in some sort of procession). 

You noted it all down of course. You assumed that it might be an illness, or perhaps they were used to humans? But they didn’t look unwell, and from what you understood, this place was rather isolated, so there was no reason for them to approach you this often. You felt a sense of growing unease with each passing day, with each filled page in your field journal. This was getting too weird. The thing of note was obviously the staring, but you figured that it was definitely not in your area of expertise.

That’s why, after weeks of camping and surveying the woods, you decided to get the fuck out of there. 

You packed up your campsite with little fanfare, hundreds of tiny gazes trained on your back. You glanced around as you loaded up a final few things into your truck, and you had only just realized then how many of them there were. The fauna crowded around the clearing you had settled in like a bated audience, and you shuddered. If you weren’t getting paid so much to stake it out here, then you probably would’ve hightailed it much faster.

“Okay… got my keys…” You mumbled and shuffled through your pockets quickly to make sure you weren’t leaving anything behind. “Should be good to go now.”

“Go where?”

You spun around, nearly jumping out of your skin in shock. Behind you stood a man, imposingly tall with a stony expression and dark skin. You pressed your hand to your now rapidly beating chest as he towered over you with a tilted head.

“Where are you going?” He repeated, and he prompted out a hand that was seemingly carved out of a deep bark to beckon your words out. You were shocked. His hair was seemingly made of vines connecting him to the earthen ground and shifting in unnatural ways.

“Uhhhh, back home?” Was all you could say in a slightly unsure voice. Seriously, you were at a loss for words. You had never seen such a person, and through your stuttering mind, you were able to guess that whatever was wrong with this place was probably his doing.

The man’s eyebrows (which looked as if they had been carved into his face) furrowed slightly. He placed a hand on his chin in contemplation, his dark hollow eyes and pure emerald pupils narrowing slightly.

“But,” he started, and it felt like his words rung over a hundred times in your head, shaking and lumbering through every node of your soft brain tissue. “But I thought you had come to live here,” He mumbled and reached forward to touch your arm. You flinched back on instinct, and his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Flower…” The man chided softly. His seeking fingers were more insistent this time, and you could not move back quickly enough before he was snatching you up and drawing you close. You cried out softly as you fell against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and sighed, shivering in contentment. You cringed at the feeling of shifting, wriggling grass and vines.

“Flower, surely you must know that you cannot go,” He sighed while he ran his hands over your scalp. You blinked. Flower… why was he calling you this? You pushed him back slightly, just to look him in the face.

“I’m sorry but, who are you?” You asked. It wasn’t just a name thing, but rather to say ‘who do you think you are?’. He hummed in response, and you can see him taking in every little thing about you. Suddenly, he laughed.

“Don’t you think it’s cruel, my flower? You ask my name but I know naught of yours,” He said with affection blooming between every roll of his tongue. Your vision spun, and suddenly your back was pressed against soft earth and damp grass. You gasped and cried out. Before you could even protest, your shirt was ripped open and your pants were pulled down.

“What silly things you wear,” He chuckled and placed kisses along your neck. The feeling was strange, slightly rigid. “Is this what mortals wear nowadays? So revealing,” He murmured and toyed with the shredded fabric. Your eyes were wide, and you tried to wriggle out from under him. He merely grabbed you by the hips and pulled you back, the vines from his hair enveloping you and wrapping around your limbs. You squeaked as your thighs were pulled apart by the coiling greenery, digging into the softer flesh. 

“I must admit,” the man moved back, letting his breath ghost over your parted legs and crotch. “I was rather taken with you from the moment you arrived.” 

The strange man held you down as he buried his rugged face and strangely glowing tongue in your entrance while stroking your privates with grooved, deft fingers. Your back arched, and you desperately tried to break free. Your frantic pleas for release were soon broken by the sounds of your breathy moans, and your voice rang like a bell in the clearing. Each lap of his rugged tongue sent shivers down your spine and had your toes curling. 

“W-what? Stop that! Let me go!”

Your keys were discarded in the grass, and those fucking animals just kept staring. You could see your writhing, pinned form in the reflection of hundreds of deep, black unblinking pools. You felt sick to your stomach, and no amount of fluttering arousal could disguise that.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had company, and you come here looking like that. No, you’re going nowhere, flower.”

It felt like years were passing as he kissed, licked and held your hips in place with a tender firmness that would have you blushing if he was your lover. Or at least a lover you chose. Your begging was drowned out by your own frantic heartbeat and the humiliating squelch of your own pleasure. Never had you faced such cruel adoration, such gentle violence. Any place that had previously shown off exposed skin was kissed in a brief moment of reprieve from the onslaught. Your arms, your calves, your collar bones which had only just peaked out from under the neckline of your shirt.

Your truck, covered in mud, but still rather nice nonetheless, slowly began to be pulled into the ground by the flowers and flora rapidly growing on the vehicle. Your things! You tried to reach for them, but a hand of his reached up and entwined his fingers with yours.

Your screams of both pleasure and fear were carried by the wind, weaving through trees and filling the forest as naturally as the rustle of leaves. He continued to eat you out, and it was like you could feel his words in your head simply from the graze of his palm. It was overwhelming, and with each wave of heat, each tremble of your body, you sank further and further into his hold.

“Oh, look at you, my flower,” He pressed reverent kisses to your naval. “How you shall bloom in my care.”

More pressure, more bitter white flashes dancing across your vision as you keened and cried. Branches rustled around your face, and you wondered when they had even gotten there in the first place. They sprouted from his back and shielded you from the sun and sky. 

“-made for me-”

“-love…”

“Flower…my flower…”

You caught bits and pieces of his voice, nestled in your ears like sticky pollen. It was too much, and all at once you had come undone, spilling over his face with an anguished, strangled noise.

It was hard to think after that. All you could feel, all you could know was that you were being dragged back into those deep, dark, very wrong woods with a loving smile slotted against your lips and flowers in your hair.

[amirasainz]

What about reader is a team principal of a team and every driver and there girlfriend are obsessed with her?

Hahaha, omg this is so funny.

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo

Obvious

The world of Formula 1 was unforgiving, relentless, and absolutely cutthroat. But there was one anomaly in the paddock that no one could quite figure out: Y/N, the 22-year-old team principal of McLaren. Her rapid rise to the top was a story everyone whispered about, but no one dared to challenge.

She was brilliant, tenacious, and had an air of authority that made her presence impossible to ignore. But what truly set her apart was the way she unknowingly had every driver—and their girlfriends—wrapped around her finger. They were utterly, hopelessly obsessed with her, and Y/N remained blissfully unaware, thinking it was just the normal way people treated their boss.

Exhibit 1: Dinner with George and Carmen

It was a rare off-day between races, and Y/N found herself in London at George’s request. The Mercedes driver had insisted on taking her out to dinner with his girlfriend Carmen joining them.

“I’m glad you agreed to come, Y/N,” George smiled as he pulled out a chair for her. “You’ve been working way too hard.”

Carmen leaned in, her eyes sparkling with admiration. “Yes, you need to relax sometimes. You’re always so busy.”

Y/N chuckled, feeling a bit flustered by their attention. “Thanks, guys, but it’s all part of the job, right? I mean, this season has been crazy.”

George leaned closer, casually placing his hand on the back of her chair, his fingers brushing against her shoulder. “You’re the youngest team principal in F1 history, Y/N. You’re allowed to take a break now and then. Let us take care of you tonight.”

Carmen nodded in agreement, her hand gently squeezing Y/N’s arm. “We wouldn’t want you burning out, would we?”

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth that she couldn’t quite place. “You guys are too sweet. I’m just trying to keep up, you know?”

The dinner passed with easy laughter and conversation, and Y/N was too busy enjoying herself to notice how both George and Carmen kept finding excuses to touch her—a hand on her arm here, a brush of fingers there. It was as if they couldn’t bear to be too far away from her.

---

Exhibit 2: A Mallorcan Escape with Carlos and Rebecca

The invitation had been impossible to refuse. Carlos had insisted on whisking Y/N away to Mallorca for a weekend of sun, relaxation, and good company. Rebecca was there too, constantly checking in to make sure Y/N was enjoying herself.

“This place is incredible,” Y/N said as she stepped out onto the balcony of their luxury villa, the Mediterranean Sea sparkling in the distance.

Carlos grinned, his hand resting comfortably on her lower back as he guided her to the sun lounger. “You deserve a break, Y/N. You’re always taking care of everyone else.”

Rebecca handed Y/N a cold drink, her smile warm and sincere. “Exactly. It’s our turn to look after you.”

Y/N blushed, sipping the drink as she looked out at the waves. “You guys are too nice. Honestly, I’m fine.”

Carlos laughed, sitting down beside her and casually resting his arm across the back of her chair, his fingers lightly grazing her shoulder. “Nice has nothing to do with it, Y/N. We just really enjoy spending time with you.”

Rebecca nodded, her hand resting on Y/N’s knee in a gesture that was both comforting and possessive. “We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Y/N just smiled, thinking how lucky she was to have friends like them, completely missing the way both Carlos and Rebecca watched her every move with an intensity that went far beyond simple friendship.

---

Exhibit 3: Shopping Spree with Pierre and Kika

Y/N had never been a big shopper, but when Pierre and Kika insisted on a shopping trip in Milan, she couldn’t say no. The day was a blur of designer stores, laughter, and playful teasing.

“You’d look amazing in this,” Kika said, holding up a sleek black dress against Y/N.

Pierre nodded in agreement, his hand resting comfortably on Y/N’s waist as he leaned in to inspect the dress. “Try it on. We’re not leaving until you do.”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “You guys are relentless. I’m supposed to be the boss, remember?”

Pierre smirked, giving her a light nudge toward the dressing room. “Not today, Y/N. Today, you’re our princess.”

Kika giggled, grabbing Y/N’s hand and dragging her along. “Exactly. And our princess needs a new wardrobe.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as she tried on outfit after outfit, completely unaware of the way Pierre’s eyes lingered on her every time she emerged from the dressing room, or how Kika’s hand never left hers for long.

---

Exhibit 4: Movie Night with Max and Kelly

It was a cozy night in Monaco, and Max had convinced Y/N to come over for a low-key movie night. Kelly had made popcorn, and the three of them were snuggled up on the couch.

“You’ve been working too hard again,” Kelly said, her voice soft as she adjusted the blanket around Y/N’s shoulders. “You need to relax.”

Max nodded, his arm stretched along the back of the couch, his fingers gently playing with the ends of Y/N’s hair. “Yeah, you need to slow down sometimes. You’re making us all look bad.”

Y/N laughed, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. “Oh, please. You guys are the ones driving the cars at insane speeds every weekend.”

Max grinned, his hand dropping to rest on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. “And you’re the one making all the tough calls. That’s way more stressful.”

Kelly leaned in closer, her head resting lightly against Y/N’s. “We’re just glad you’re here. We love spending time with you.”

Y/N smiled, thinking how comforting it was to have Max and Kelly around. She missed the way Max’s thumb traced circles on her shoulder and the way Kelly’s fingers intertwined with hers under the blanket, as if they were afraid to let her go.

---

Exhibit 5: Yacht Day with Charles and Alexandra

When Charles invited Y/N out on his yacht, she thought it would be a casual day in the sun. But from the moment she stepped on board, she realized she was in for something far more luxurious.

“This is… wow,” Y/N breathed, taking in the sight of the pristine white yacht against the crystal blue waters of the French Riviera.

Charles smiled, his hand lingering on the small of her back as he guided her to a sunbed. “Only the best for our favorite team principal.”

Alexandra appeared with drinks, offering one to Y/N with a bright smile. “You deserve this, Y/N. You never take time for yourself.”

Y/N settled onto the sunbed, feeling the warmth of the sun and the company of her friends. “You guys are always spoiling me. I’m really not that special.”

Charles chuckled, leaning back beside her, his leg brushing against hers. “Oh, but you are, Y/N. You’re the heart of the paddock.”

Alexandra nodded in agreement, her hand resting comfortably on Y/N’s as they basked in the sun. “And we all adore you.”

Y/N blushed, not quite understanding why they were always so kind, but grateful all the same.

---

Exhibit 6: Golfing with Alex and Lily

Golf wasn’t Y/N’s sport, but when Alex and Lily insisted on a day out on the greens, she couldn’t say no. The trio laughed their way through the course, with Alex playfully showing Y/N how to swing properly, his hands guiding hers.

“You’ve got this, Y/N,” Alex said, his chest pressed against her back as he adjusted her stance. “Just focus.”

Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushed from the proximity. “You make it look so easy.”

Lily watched them with a knowing smile, resting her hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “You’ll get the hang of it. You’re already a pro at everything else.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to concentrate as Alex’s touch sent an unexpected thrill through her. “You guys are way too nice to me.”

Alex and Lily exchanged a look, one that Y/N missed entirely as she tried to focus on her swing. They were both addicted to her presence, to the way she brightened every room she walked into.

---

As the season went on, Y/N continued to be the center of attention in ways she never quite understood. Every driver and their partners found excuses to spend time with her, to touch her, to keep her close. And though she often felt overwhelmed by their affection, she chalked it up to just having great friends in the paddock.

But to everyone else, it was clear: Y/N wasn’t just a team principal. She was the object of an unspoken obsession, the one person they all couldn’t bear to be without. And whether she realized it or not, they were all just a little bit in love with her.

[urlocaldesertdweller]

How far he is willing to go for you (Stanford x reader)

angst at first, then fluff

During his youth as much as you want to ignore it, he is going to put his studies and knowledge before you, especially when he starts to put all of his focus on the source of anomalies in Gravity Falls.

At first, you were fine with this. After all, you thought that this obsession for finding out about the truth was going to pass.

It only grew, as much as you wanted to ignore the cold empty spot in your once shared bed.

This obsession only grows once he meets Bill. Curiosity kills the cat. You couldn't stand any of it, the overbearing loneliness was becoming too much. And even the time you can tell that he hasn't been taking care of himself both physically and mentally.

He snaps at you when you even try to get him to go outside. He'd go into rambles and mutter about how you could never understand what is upon humanity with his greatest work in progress. You are stunned, to say the least.

You know it is hopeless to argue, he will only return back into that dusty, suffocating basement.

You went out by the time Stanford was pulled into that portal looking for a new place to stay.

But something brings you back to that dreaded cabin. And you saw "Stanford" acting different...something screamed that it wasn't your Stanford.

You are quick to see through the imposter's BS as you become aggressive and confrontational. You were never afraid to pull up a gun your Ford made and gave you for "emergencies".

The imposter turns out to be Stanford's twin brother as you continue to draw out more information while you learn more about Ford's family. Stan mutters under his breath a snarky comment about how Ford's managed to marry another equally as crazed weapon-wielding manic.

The news of hearing that the very same reason Stanford has been killing himself over has now trapped him in some dimension makes you feel sick. Stanly only tells you this, you are the only person he tells about the accident, he tells you to tell absolutely no one if you want to work together to start the portal back up once more for Ford.

You can't bear to live in that house anymore, especially over time you watch Stanley turn the home you once loved with Ford with all of your heart into a tourist trap. But you keep your mouth shut about your opinion against Stan, you only come around that ugly home to just hide yourself in the cold basement to work on the portal.

You went from lonely to lonely and bitter. Despite everything you thought about Ford in the last few times you interacted with him, you still loved him. Even if it felt like he was choosing a doomsday device over you. You are sure to remind yourself you get that sucker back in your arms you'll punch some sense into him.

Throughout the painfully long 30 years that have passed, you work tirelessly on the portal, looking for the other two journals, and struggling to keep yourself on the ground from going insane over this damn portal. Its form mocks you every time you look at it, only seeing it as the reason why Ford started to go nuts.

The summer when the new Pines twins come into town gives you another reason to drive you toward the future. From Mabel's lovely personality and lighthearted jokes to Dipper's similar antics to...Fords. The kids kept you grounded, and frankly, you treated them like your own, willing to do anything to keep them safe from any harm.

...

You'd never thought you finally see the portal open up once more after nearly destroying the entire town and getting arrested but the American government.

The figure walks out of the portal covered up from head to toe looking like from another time and world.

Your racing heart slows down as Stan explains to the twins that it was the author of the journals, his brother. To you, its Stanford the love and light of your life.

Things settle down as Ford punches Stan and then rants about how dangerous it was starting the portal again, the comment strikes a nerve. After 30 years, have you been working for this attitude for 30 fucking years?

Ford looks around looking at the new company, then his eyes lay on you wide as ever. They soften as he steps forward stretching out a hand. His tone changes to the quietest volume ever. The quick mood change confuses everyone in the room but you and Ford. Mabel is quick to catch on and gasp watching the old couple tension between you and Ford.

You tighten your face as you fist your hand and go straight into his cheek. It's your turn to rant now. From how he acted before the accident to the ungratefulness of bringing him back.

He frowns rubbing his pink cheek but he lets you rant and rant until you're out of breath, those 30 years made him forget how awful he became towards you and he completely regrets every second of it. He knows that he deserves you to be mad at him but his heart aches to touch you, feel you, and love you.

Mabel's widened grin along with everyone else is stunned by your punch and long-winded ranting of serious and complex situations within your relationship. You finish off finally with your arms tightly crossed.

The tension becomes completely awkward and everyone holds their breath looking between you and guilty-looking Ford. Stan definitely feels the weight of guilt is lifted from your interaction with Ford.

...

Ever since that day, your relationship has been rough for the first few days have been rough, Ford knew how you worked, you needed time that's all.

Eventually, you hold your breath and start talking to Ford within the first week. Of course, you'd never find yourself holding a grudge against your husband, especially at your age.

It's slow and bittersweet when Ford starts to blabber on about how sorry he was both how he treated you and his bitter reaction towards Stan and you turn on the machine for his return. To which he actually says thank you to you. It ends with both of you sniffling and tightly hugging one another, with Ford's fingers digging into your arms as if afraid of losing you once again.

Needless to say ever since that day and 30 years, he will put you before anything else. Forget the research, forget the studies, forget everything just not you.

...

As the days go by you feel a feeling you haven't felt in years, love, for your husband you thought not only fell out of love but also was lost to whatever dimension claimed him by the portal.

You both felt like a pair of flirty teenagers back in high school, from kisses, hand-holding, and cuddles. If you were ever to do it in front of the twins including Stan, he would cover the twins' eyes to which he'll remind the two of you that you have an unwanted audience and to also get a room.

Stanford would also spend nearly all of his time with you, including having you have a more important role in his smaller projects and adventures!

Stanford would sketch you in whatever journal he jots his thoughts in. Mainly admiring how beautiful you along writing small poems about you. What a charmer.

Nearly every day he always makes sure to express his gratitude both for you waiting for him and starting the portal up for him. He'll have those moments where the past comes up to him and he feels guilt once more, he will hide away or just seem down even around you.

Of course, you'll be there to reassure him with both words and kisses which also brightens up his mood and face. It seems that no matter how old and how long your marriage will last he will always get all shy with kisses.

From his lips, cheeks, forehead, hands, each finger and knuckle, neck, literally anywhere. Bonus points if you wear lipstick and the kiss marks stay, he won't realize it until someone besides you points it out. He won't wipe it away though, he wears them like a medal of honor from your love.

If you were to ever renew your vows, Stanford is completely on board by the way. It's the youngest you'll ever feel. You both look dashing in your old, or new ceremony outfits. The twins of course were proud as ever no matter the timing for both their grunkle and in-law finding love even in the fit of chaos. <3

[paymechildsupport]

I've never done a request before so please bear with me🥲

I was wondering if you could do another Francis Mosses x reader.

I really enjoyed your Spouse!Reader x doppelgänger!Francis and wanted to see your take on D.D.D. trainee!Reader x doppelganger! Francis, where we get sent out to 'take care' of Francis.

Really excited to see what you do with this prompt🙏🏾

>nahhh this is a devious prompt, -- I gotchu 🙏😈🙏😈

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Does this please you, Officer?”  // Doppel!Francis x DDD Officer Reader

--Doppelgänger!Francis x DDD Reader tasked with his neutralization 🙏

-!! AFAB Reader, -- though genetalia isn't outright explicity stated -(?) -- there is room for your imagination though 😋

-!! CW: nsfw- (smut), ; Dubcon /// Hand-job; sex against a wall; degradation; implied overstimulation

A/N: the number of Francis requests are CRAZY, -- and I completely understand why, -- man's actually majestic <3.

————-

-------------------------------

...

This was not how you planned to spend your Tuesday night,— grumpy and exhausted, woken up mid-sleep by an emergency dispatch.

“Mm… hello.?” Your groggy voice speaks into the ringing phone, eyes still sticky from sleep. 

“Emergency Dispatch: Doppelgänger identified at Complex II,— repeat, doppelgänger identified at complex II,— dispatch agent, neutralize the threat”. They clicked off, leaving you alone in the dark. 

Fuuuuuuck…. 

You fit yourself to your uniform quickly, practically ripping the hazmat suit in an attempt to get inside. Stupid cheap uniform. 

Hurriedly, you grabbed your gear before rushing out the door, immediately stopping to softly tiptoe down the hall, (it would be inconsiderate to wake your neighbors at this hour).

You bolt out the complex, trying your best with the minimal light from the lampposts to groggily stumble your way to Complex II. You recall briefly the mention of a new doorman, a rookie. You figured it made sense,— poor new guy’s first day and he’s greeted by what you can assume as a particularly aggressive doppelgänger. 

Trudging up to the looming building, you approach the iron bound mechanical door. You can see immediately the shutters to the doorman’s office are closed, bits of movement visible from the gaps in the blinds. The poor dude was in shambles. 

You approach the gate, eyes locking on the figure of the doppelgänger, 

Hmm, let’s see who it is tonight…

You’re surprised to see the handsome face of your milkman staring back at you, eyes looking as dead as ever. The air was knocked right outta your lungs,— holy shit these doppelgängers were getting good. 

Clearing your throat, you address, 

“Uh,— right, sir,” you look at the doppelgänger, “I’m gonna need you to come with me.” 

He says nothing, opting to just stare. It’s then you notice the gaping hole that was his mouth, the two black chasms that were supposed to be his eyes. From afar, he’d look perfectly normal,— but in the light all the inhuman imperfections stuck out like a sore thumb 

Holy smokes that’s hot. 

“I’m going to take you with me now,” you don’t even know why you’re telling him this, why the hell were you being all nice with a doppelgänger? Sure, he was good looking,— sure, you were curious what that mouth could do—- 

But that’s besides the point. 

You approach hesitantly, hooking an arm around ‘Francis’, giving him a light tug to signify him to follow you. 

Surprisingly, he does. Without a single word or complaint. He just… stares. With those beady white pupils. It sends a delicious shiver down your spine. 

Leading him away, you look over your shoulder at the doorman who just peeked out from behind the shutters, giving him a reassuring thumbs up as you walk away with your new companion. 

“Threat neutralized,” you repeat into the bulky walky talky attached to your belt, “order complete, over”. You place it back in its compartment, continuing until you and ‘Francis’ reach the anomaly compound for all things strange and odd. 

‘Francis’ looks at the compound with horribly disguised disgust. You only chuckle grinning, 

“No no, don’t worry. You aren’t going in there…” he seems to breathe a sigh of relief— if that’s even possible—, before you finish the last bit, 

“— don’t worry, I have… other plans for you..”

——

“Strip.” 

“Excuse me?” He whirls around, taken aback. 

“You heard me, strip” 

“And why,” his eyes narrow, “would I do that?” 

You shrug, “safety protocol,-- we’re in the decontamination room,-- can’t let you in if your clothes are contaminated, y’know?” 

'Francis' is absolutely flabbergasted. 

“Oh, and for security measures someone else has to be in the room at all times, – but uh,-” you grin, “we’re a lil’ short staffed at the moment, so it looks like it’ll just have to be you and me. 

'Francis' only looks at you through narrowed eye lids, thinking, “and if I refuse?” 

“Then I’ll strip you myself” and you step closer to do just that. 

'Francis' skitters backwards to the other end of the room, back hitting the wall, “h-hey! No need for that, I’ll do as you ask…” he mutters

Chuckling, “at least you can be obedient” 

'Francis' looks away almost bashfully as he begins to undo the buttons on his shirt, fabric peeling away to reveal the pale skin underneath. His hat rests on a nearby bench

“Fully,” you purr, “I want it all off.” 

You swear you see the tiniest hint of red tinge his cheeks, and you can’t help but wonder just how advanced this doppelgänger was. Good thing you were about to see for yourself in a moment… 

The air is heavy, tense, almost, as 'Francis' slowly undoes the buckle on his belt, pants sliding down to his ankles, – his boxers the only scrap of clothing left hiding him from you. 

He wearily regards the way you look at him, not missing the growing flare of hunger behind your eyes, 

“Does this please you, officer?” his words are clipped, tension building up behind each one. Biting your lip, your breath almost catches at the way he smiles, teeth a little too sharp to be human. 

“No.” The words are thick in your throat, forcing them out a bit of a struggle, “Get rid of the rest of it, now” 

He bites his tongue, making no move to do so. In a second you’re on him, pinning his figure to the wall, bodies pressed up together. He has no time to react as you hook two fingers around his boxers, harshly yanking them off. 

“Oh.”

Free of the confines of his pants, his erect cock springs loose, tip already dripping with precum. 

“Huh.” 'Francis' can’t even turn his head your way, face hot and sweating slightly, “Who would’ve thought,” – your hands curl around him, taking him fully in your fist. His eyes fly to your face, pupils blown and dilated, staring in horrified arousal as you began to knead the hardened flesh, “--what a sick little thing you are, getting off on my reprimands, hmm?” 

'Francis' sucks in a sharp breath, muscles tensing almost to a breaking point. His entire body shook with an animalistic need. More strands of precum build up on his tip, all read and agitated. Your thumb rubs the tiny slit, coating him with the sticky fluid. You found it hilarious, – no way this freakish creature had a fucking thing for degradation. 

His mouth opens in the shape of a small ‘o’, eyes rolling back as you teasingly pull at his dick, your hands making wet squelching noises playing with the soaked meat. 

“Mm,” you hum as you continue to play with him, dumbifying the creature in your hands. His legs start shaking like a dog’s, lewd whimpers flowing from his lips, glistening with saliva and drool. He desperately thrusts himself against your hand, chasing his pleasure farther. Jerking him off slowly, immense satisfaction burning in your stomach at the way your hand milks him. Each low groan went straight to your pulsing heat, drenching your own pants. 

Panting, unfamiliar with the immense, foreign pleasure curdling through his gut, 'Francis' seems to forget the guise of his human appearance, pornograpic moans mixing in with groggy animalistic growls and grunts. Carnal desire ripples through his veins, building up in his stomach, molten hot, and threatening to explode from his twitching cock in your hands. Poor thing can’t even formulate words, getting his brains fucked out just by your hand alone. 

He gasps, right about to climax into your hammering fist when you suddenly retract your hand. 'Francis' looks at you with wide eyes, looking every bit the kicked puppy, cruelly robbed of his orgasm. 

“Hh. huh… nghu..- ga-?..”,  panting.

You chuckle slowly, “no, not yet…” 

He can only watch with teary eyes as you skillfully unbuckle your pants, sliding them off along with your underwear. You grab him by the hips, positioning him (which isn’t hard, considering the only thing keeping his shaking body up was your torso), and aligning your pelvis, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You carefully slip him into your drenched hole, gasping softly at the sensation of him.

“Hah… like I said….” ‘Francis’ can only gape as you adjust yourself, cock twitching madly inside of you, 

… “I’m not done with you yet…”

[kairiscorner]

OKOK BUT

Jealous!Miguel stealing your attention only because you told Ben Reilly he has nice muscles 😭

You know that dude, when he's jealous, makes it clear that you only belong to his *wink wink*

AGHHHHHHH i live for jealous miggy for real

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

yeah, i'm... just a jealous guy, so what? — jealous!miguel o'hara x reader

miguel was at his wit's end, hearing you giggle as the blonde, buff-oon of a spider man was entertaining you with his muscles, that miguel was very certain that he had beat in every aspect possible. he didn't mean to brag–he honestly wouldn't care in a normal setting–but objectively speaking, his muscles and figure was far more superior than that of ben reilly's.

he respected ben, both as a spider man and a person, though he couldn't bear the thought of you–one of his only real friends and someone with a decent, functioning brain in the entire spider society–entertaining the blonde boy by giggling along, praising him, and running your fingers and hands over his biceps and muscles. ben dared not to show his true, flustered self as he kept 'accidentally' flexing at you, making you chuckle even more–annoying miguel even more, because... he should be the one making you all embarrassed, flustered, and giggly with his own much thicker biceps and muscles.

"it's just... so stupid." he muttered to himself as lyla chuckled. "gonna challenge ben to a flex off?" she sarcastically asked miguel, who–for a hot minute–ironically considered the notion, but ultimately decided against it with the shake of his head. "no, no need. i'll get over it." he said as a low grumble, which lyla raised her eyebrow at. "oh, will you, now?" she asked him with a hint of mockery, which made miguel snarl a little and sigh loudly. "you'll see." he declared with some spite in his tone.

he did not move on from it, not one bit actually.

it was driving miguel insane, because every moment he caught you that day to catch up and talk, he always caught you with ben–watching him entertain you yet again with him 'coincidentally' stretching and flexing those muscles he was so proud of but always played them off coolly when you happened to come by and... stare at him showing off.

this was it, this was the final straw–he had to prove to you once and for all just who you fold to, who makes you so flustered with a simple gaze your way with those piercing hazel (sometimes red) eyes of his–who made you want to have more and more of him and wouldn't be ashamed to get on your knees, or on all fours if he commanded you to, and beg for him to love you all evening into the early hours of the dawn. he had to show you who loved you, and who you loved endlessly.

when you entered miguel's office to report back to him on the statuses of some anomalies he needed word back on immediately. though when you entered the room, the atmosphere felt... entirely different now. you searched for miguel here and there since he wasn't there up on his platform, nor was he anywhere where the small pools of light touched the walls and floors of his office–he wasn't there, at least, not in front of you yet.

"you called, querida?" he asked you as he placed his larger palms on your smaller shoulders, feeling up your flesh gently and letting out low breaths as he got closet to you. your back felt his chiseled abdomen pressing against you, his pectoral muscles being pushed against your shoulders. you shuddered and felt your face get a little heated. you tried turning around to tell miguel you had the reports he was asking for, but it was a little hard to do with him pressing against you like this.

you finally turned around and pulled away from his grasp, but when you did... you were taken aback by the sight. he was completely shirtless, showing off his sculpted upper body, the curves and bulging of his arm muscles and built abdomen, and the only thing he was wearing was a flimsy pair of boxers that... looked a little thin from where you were standing. you gulped at the lump in your throat and tried to ignore the heat in the walls of your throat as you faced him with an embarrassed expression. you hurriedly handed him the report and tried to get away from him, but he blocked you in your tracks and looked down at you with darkening eyes.

"what's the rush, cariño? run me through these... one-by-one." he asked of you, which sounded more like a demand for you to stay, really, as he moved closer to you while you backed away–backing yourself up against a desk and being pinned against the wall by miguel as he loomed over you and stared you down.

"again, cariño... what's wrong? you gotta run me through these all... now tell me, what's the status on these anomalies?" he asked you as he gently ran his hand over your arm and raised an eyebrow again and involuntarily flexed his arm muscles by pinning his arm against the wall you were nearly backed into if not for the desk in between you two.

"y'better start talking, bella, or else... i might just make you talk myself." he said with a lower, sultry voice as he brought his face even closer to yours, your noses brushing together, and him hearing you whimper a little as he took your smaller hand in his own, bringing it to his abs. "what, cat got your tongue? that's not the little sweetheart i know... c'mon, say something." he encouraged you as you whimpered again and finally mustered the words to utter to him. "...you're... kinda big..." "kinda?" "v-very big..." you blurted out, all flustered as miguel leaned in closer, smiling, about to plant a kiss on your luscious lips. "how sweet..." he muttered as he kissed your lips gently, buttering you up before he shows you how much he's craved your attention before making you desperate for his attention soon enough.

you're in for the long haul this time... before the night ends, all your love and attention will all be on him, and only him–nobody else, just him and his body–and how his face contorts into a wide grin when he sees you stammer, eyes wide, and fluster over how much of a grip he has on you with those muscles he's got. maybe you'll spend the rest of the day with miguel tomorrow, hmm? ben and everyone else can wait... but miguel certainly can't.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

[disgruntleddemon]

So, bear with me as i can't draw humans hjkjhj. i've just had this idea in my head for awhile, and i figured it made more sense with them as people instead of my usual furry designs lol. i figured the gf style would be simple enough to copy, but uh, unsurprisingly it still turned out a little wonky

anywaysss, that post claiming Ford wouldn't care if Mabel got him a polydactyl cat has been bugging me for ages now, so i wanted to doodle my own take instead hjkjhjk.

it's been said before (by myself included), but there is no way he wouldn't immediately love that cat. he has a fascination with anomalies, it's a gift from his beloved niece, and shares a trait with him he was always been self conscious of. he'd be so appreciative! not to mention the fact he wouldn't want to repeat the whole Frilliam thing.

i went with a black cat since they're supposed to be good luck for sailors! it seemed rly fitting! i couldn't for the life of me think of a name, but i went with Sixpurr, as a pun on Sixer. i like to think Stan jokingly calls her that once and Ford is just "wait, that's perfect!' Stan mostly just calls her cat lol.

i imagine Ford walking her around ports on a little leash, and wrapping twine around one of the poles of his bunk bed so she can more easily reach the top bunk where he sleeps. that's his little buddy!!

[f0rin]

Foreign Temptations

-------------------------------------------------------------- hi!!! i have no idea how tumblr works at all and this is my first post but anyway have some sae not understanding what love is itoshi sae x reader --------------------------------------------------------------

You were warm; warm against his skin, his touch— his body. The flutters in his stomach made him frown, and the silent pleas of want prompted him to cringe. Turquoise eyes narrowed with the familiar feeling of indecision— question. There’s an unmistakable yearning to feel you more, explore you more; delve into the surge of heat that tingled from your feathery touches when you traced his skin, body shivering in an ecstasy that wasn’t adrenaline. He was entranced by an emotion he didn’t quite understand.

 But he wanted to.

 His fingers hovered over your hair, eyebrows furrowed in an uncharacteristic uncertainty, something that became common around you– the hesitance, the wariness. The acceptance. He found himself disliking it. Heavily. He didn’t have the time, you weren’t supposed to be a priority. Itoshi Sae was an egoist, carved into a player who danced with the deck of opportunity— a playmaker of the game. Doubt wasn’t in his arsenal of cards, a feeling he long ago cast away. But not with you. He couldn’t predict you. He couldn’t analyze you. He couldn’t withdraw himself from you. The sleeping figure curled into his side, being one of the rare things Itoshi Sae found doubt in.

 And it was undeniably exciting.

 Fingers gently met your hair, careful digits tucking back the bangs sheltering your eyes. A test of the new territory, an itch to his curiosity. You were pretty. Pretty like this. Pretty with him. Head on his thigh, body relaxed with the blanket of sleep, an enchanting serenity painting your features. The back of his knuckles stopped beside your cheek– your vulnerability was a daring invitation he wavered to accept.

Sae didn’t know how to regard you— or think of you, or what to entirely even do with you. He only understood one thing— he was only sure of one thing: football.

And you were not football.

 You were an anomaly to his status quo, a foreign rival to his norm that made him hungry and challenged and soft. You came bearing gifts of intoxicating emotions he couldn’t comprehend, but found himself chasing like a high. Maybe he’d confront you about it later.

 Or maybe he wouldn’t.

 He probably wouldn’t.

You’d have to take the first steps for him.

[stwrrybwrry]

I wonder how you and sukuna met... 💭

⊹　 ︶︶　 𖹭᪲　 ︶︶　 ⊹

Sukuna! Who’s realm is a place of darkness and despair, a void no human could survive—yet there you are, a frail human, lying sick and trembling on the cold ground. At first, Sukuna only finds it amusing, a strange anomaly in his otherwise bleak world. He calls Uraume to care for you, watching in silent curiosity, convinced you’ll be gone by morning. As he observes, he can’t help but find your presence oddly captivating, something he never expected to feel. He feels enchanted by you, he doesn’t like it.

Sukuna! Who’s days pass, and you survive but are too sickly to perform simple tasks on your own. Sukuna finds himself passing by your resting place more frequently, each time catching glimpses of the faint rise and fall of your breaths. There’s something intriguing about the determination in your eyes, the quiet strength in your silence. You never beg, never plead; you simply exist, and it pulls him closer, though he’d never admit it. He’ll never admit that he feels weak around you.

Sukuna! Who each day, says a word here, a glance there, building an unspoken connection between you. Sukuna keeps his distance, masking his curiosity with arrogance, but your presence gnaws at him. The way you look at him without fear is both infuriating and captivating. Slowly, his gaze lingers a bit too long, and he feels an unfamiliar tug at his heart, one he cannot ignore. And slowly, you and him start to talk, slowly forming an impactful and beautiful bond.

Sukuna! Who one night, you share a quiet moment, side by side in the stillness of his realm. You tell him of the mortal world, your voice barely a whisper, and he listens—truly listens. There’s something fragile and vulnerable in the way you speak, a warmth he’s never felt before. Sukuna doesn’t respond, but his silence feels like understanding, a wordless confession neither of you dare to speak aloud. And he doesn't dare to interrupt. The night ends with you nuzzling into him in his futon, and for the first time, he feels something shift within him—a longing he can't name.

Sukuna! Who before he can make sense of this growing ache, everything shatters. Curses find you in the human realm, finding and attacking you. Sukuna arrives just in time to see you fall, reaching out for him with a weak, desperate smile, your eyes filled with unspoken words. The realization of what he feels, what he could have had, crashes over him like a wave of agony. He shouldn’t have let you go, maybe if you remained sickly you would've been alive.

Sukuna! Who finally realises you’re gone. Leaving a hollow emptiness that he can’t seem to shake. Uraume watches as he grows colder, more violent, his rage a reflection of the void in his chest. His heart—cold as stone for so long—bears the scar of a love that never had the chance to bloom, a connection that was lost just as it began. In the stillness of his empty realm, Sukuna clenches his fists, the silence pressing down like a weight he can’t lift. Alone with a hollow ache he doesn’t understand, he stares into the endless void, voice breaking as he whispers the one word he never had the courage to say:

“Please… come back.”

[teefsintheweb]

CONTAINMENT BREACH AU MASTERPOST

Hello! I am Teefs, an extraterrestrial creature on the internet.

My fondness for sci-fi and things like SCP have gotten mixed up with my obsession with FNAF, specifically, FNAF SB.

Containment Breach takes place in an alternate universe based on the world designed for a comic project I'm doing over at @remnantsofmatter . There's this unnamed 'facility' that focus on researching and containing anomalies and other worldly entities.

The facility is morally corrupt only seeing these creatures as things to use to gain power to remain at the top of the food chain if there would ever be an incomprehensible danger threatening Earth.

The characters are still being thought out but this is what we have so far:

The star of the au because he is my favorite guy ever is Glamrock Freddy! in this au he is an anthro bear who recently got hired by this unnamed facility as a lead in researching anomalies and other worldly entities.

Vanessa is an emotionally distant supervisor always putting pressure on Freddy, making her a figure he often tries to avoid due to her intimidating him and stressing him out into overworking himself, but he will remain respectful and polite.

Chica is a receptionist being kept in the dark about the legitimacy of her job, she's just there to smile at government inspectors and keep them from looking further into what the facility does. Chica is Freddy's best friend from childhood.

Roxy and Monty are guards working in the facility, the frontline responders if an entity breaks out of containment.

Monty often gets into conflict with Freddy, Freddy being very protective and caring to the entities and wanting them to be treated with gentle care- which Monty knows is unrealistic because he has had to chose between a lethal shot and his life. He knows [or strongly believes] that the entities are not as "human" as the staff in the facility, his priority is keeping everyone safe no matter what thing is attempting to rip out his throat.

Bonnie in this au was designed by @himbo-in-limbo . He's a janitor at this facility that avoids death by being the silliest goober ever. Monty may try setting him up by sending him to clean the containment unit of an extremely hostile entity only for Bonnie to walk out perfectly calm without a scratch.

more characters may be added and more detailed relationship dynamics as well!

This au was created in the Rockstar Row Discord server. Which then comes the most appealing part of this au I believe, the self inserts.

I have encouraged my friends who are part of the server to design their sona's/oc's into the au!!

This post being an example by Venbetta!

Essentially I have put together a doll house to the server and am inviting my friends to make dolls so we can all play together. I'm not sure whether or not I'm comfortable with people outside the server inserting themselves into the au. Smaller projects are much more manageable than suddenly a bunch of strangers flooding in from any corner.

we're all just playing dolls and so far everyone is playing nice, we're keeping it that way.

we're also very sick in the head when it comes to Researcher!Freddy. I have been mainly kept everyhting related to the au in the discord server but I guess I'll attempt to post about it.

[monstercampus]

Which wolves like a fiesty human and which orefer a more submissive? Who's got the biggest dominance kink/problem??

HEH.

(cws: mild lewd, dom/sub dynamics, brat taming, knots)

Hate to say it but Athos loooooooves a fiesty little brat. He's so sweet on you you'd think he's just the gentlest, most darling wolf to bed--aside from Elliott and Ollie, probably--but those fangs will snap as soon as the attitude comes out. He hates how much he likes it and how he likes it, but it's in his blood, so how much can he really help it?

He likes the fight for dominance, the moments where you're first entangled with each other, when it comes to deciding who is going to stake their claim over the other--he wants to make you regret all that biting and wriggling as you try to break his grip, wants to watch that snarky smirk melt as he pushes you down on his knot. You think this is humiliating? You just wait and see what happens when he turns. Bigger knot, sharper claws, and droolier fangs to sink into the nape of your neck; you'll break if he wants you to break, and when he mounts you you'll know for sure there's no escaping a good, hard breeding from him. Sometimes he'll hit you with that plap, plap, plap of his knot driving into you, while both of those massive hands just hold down your head and grip your hair as he stretches you out on his cock. You can earn his mercy if you try--but you're gonna have to try reeeeallly hard to make him proud of you again, pup.

On the flipside, Portia's one to just adore a submissive partner. He likes fiestier ones for sure, but there's something about the implicit, loving trust and sweetness of a doe-eyed little human that really gets him dialed all the way up. If you can loop your arms around his neck and cling to him while he touches you it's even better. Even if it's just playing pretend and you aren't usually that way, he really likes the feeling of acting like you need to be taken care of--it scratches an itch in the core of his self, it makes him preen at the idea of giving you all that you ask for because you trust that he can provide. He's a giver, what can he say? He likes to be needed.

The rest of the wolves are largely on the sliding scale between those extremes. Ollie likes to be praised and Nick's more on the daddy-ish dom side than the aggressive brat tamer that Athos can be. Kirk is similar to Portia in the sense that he also really needs to be needed, but he also likes flipping that into a dominant role. Julian really just likes to please and will use overstimulation as his tool to dominate you. And Elliott is more of a switch that likes to be submissive on occasion, so when he's dominant he's not usually too aggressive about it. Priam is...well, he's kind of an anomaly. Mostly a big wolfy teddy bear, but there are times when, under the right circumstances, he just goes...feral. So he can kinda flip the switch between ultra aggressive/possession to super gentle and sweet.

[scribble-dribble-writes]

I have a request!! Y/N being sent on a mission by Miguel, them being gone for hours and not getting back at him makes Miguel check in on u over Layla & she has to him that they got hurt. A feral/worried Miguel going in for the rescue of a badly injured Y/N, taking care of their wounds and staying by their side. Once they regain consciousness -> lots of apologies and fluff/tenderness would be awesome!!

Thank u for reading this request of madness 🙈 x

Hi anon! Thanks for the request, I had to write it the moment I read it. GAH SOFT FERAL MIGUEL HAS ME IN A HOLD.

I hope you like this 💖💖💖

---

Unsaid words

"LYLA", he called for his assistant.

His eyes glued to the monitor, looking through street footage and maps. His eyes now awake with the thirst of knowing where you were. Your location marker turned offline and he drew a sharp breath. Something was wrong, his mind coming up scenarios that he wasn't very fond of.

"Where is she?", he asked next. His fingers turning into claws that bit into the top of his table.

He was impatient. No. He was worried.

He had stayed numb, not getting close enough to miss anyone but you, his heart began to race, you were special.

"I can't find here active data but it's certain that she's hurt.", LYLA responded. Instantly, he pushed away from his desk, he had to find you.

His suit covered his head with his mask, his claws now fully out as he had only one goal in his mind.

He turned his gadget to the universe you were sent to and jumped into the portal, he couldn't wait for it to open, he shouldn't have sent you alone, thoughts and feelings he had kept hidden were now rising to the surface. He struck his blade into the time fabric tearing it open.

Cold rain greeted him, covering the world he entered in a goulish green. A sign that the anomaly here would be one of the Doc Oc variants. And just as he had though it, he saw a silhouette with tentacled arms climb up a building. In one of its arms, he caught sight of the colour of your suit.

Anger rushed into his system, one mixed with the overwhelming need to protect you. He hadn't felt that in a long time, since he lost his universe. The tip of his tongue felt the sharp end of his fangs bearing out at the thought of losing you.

He didn't waste a second, his eyes were locked on his target.

You grappled against the cold metal that wrapped around your throat. Your feet dangling over the dark city. It was getting hard to breathe and in the state you were in, you were certain that if you were dropped from this height, it would be fatal.

The mask you wore was torn in half, allowing you to witness the sheer force of an object that slammed into the anomaly. Red blades gleamed against the eerie moon as clawed hands tore away a couple metal arms. You could recognize him anywhere. His large back over powering the anomaly as he slammed Doc Oc's face into the glass facade of the building. Over and over, he wasn't like himself, you had never seen him this triggered.

The anomaly lost consciousness and the red eyes in the tentacles flickered out, the grip around your neck easing. Fear filled your system, your eyes widening at what this meant, you clawed against the metal now to hold on, to not slip. But the rain made it difficult, the glass panes were too smooth, it made it impossible for you to catch onto any surface. You pressed into your web shooters only to for it to confirm with a hiss that it was broken.

It was all in slow motion, your body feeling the pull of gravity, the anomaly tilting head back into a fall and the red slits on his mask turning to you, widening as he watched you fall.

Capturing the anomaly was what was important, that was the mission, not one could be killed in action as they had to be returned into their respective universe. Whereas, you, you were expendable, fallen soldiers in this war no one knew about.

So who was he going to save?

Was this another one of his canon events?

But something within you caused you to scream out his name, some stupid want to feel his arms around you again, one last time. And that was what changed everything.

With inhuman speed he secured the anomaly to a broken steel column and dove towards you. He looked like he owned the skies, his blades stretching out against him like his wings, a streak of black, red and blue.

He didn't use his web to catch you, afraid that it would end like a few Gwen Stacy deaths. He retracted his claws, and reached out for you.

His weight enabled him to reach you faster in mid air. You felt his arms circle you, press you deep into his chest as he braced for impact. He held you tight as you felt the smell of tarmac beneath you. He had saved you, even though it wasn't a part of the mission.

With your ear pressed into his suit, you could hear the ferocity with which his heart was beating. He pushed away quicking to inspect you, his thumb tracing over a scratch across your cheek making him grumble. As though you were his priced work of art and someone had defied him to hurt you.

"You came.", was all you could muster to say.

"Of course I would.", he spoke softly as he carried you in his arms.

Now this made you feel like you were untouchable by any force that ever existed. Nothing could be strong enough to pull you away from him.

"lo siento llegué tarde.", he drew closer to you as help arrived to clean up the scene.

"You were right on time.", you responded to ease his worry, which surprised you. He never worried about anyone in this way.

"Oh you've found her!", LYLA popped up next to him.

"He was losing his senses over at HQ.", she laughed.

"LYLA", he warned her.

"What?", she winked at you as she acted innocent.

"Leave us.", he ordered and she disappeared.

His gaze was on you, you could tell with how the eyes on his mask softened.

"I was afraid I might lose you.", he said quietly as he stroked your exposed jaw. His warm touch eradicated the biting cold sting of the rain.

"Where you?", you asked watching his mask unravel, exposing his nose and lips.

You could feel where this was heading, you craved it. But to see him nod to your question in a way that it was the absolute truth set your heart on fire. He had saved you, there was no grander gesture than that. It spoke more loudly than what he could put into words. He held the side of your face that your mask didn't cover, your left cheek, the tip of your nose and your lips.

He leaned down, his hot breath over your cheek sent your mind into an overdrive as he softly kissed you, a cliche. Maybe it was his canon event, the usual spidey kiss.

The pain in your body evaporated just for this second as you kissed him back. Your reaction causing him to pull you closer, as though it was a confirmation. Your intuition in tune with what he was feeling, unsaid words could remain unsaid. Instead he spoke with his hands and a racing pulse in his throat.

He pulled away, his lips now spread out in a smile as the suit engulfed his face again.

"Let's get you cleaned up first and then continue this later.", he chuckled as he opened the portal.

Now that was a command you didn't mind obeying.

[tlou-reid]

spencer!dad with a teen daughter, theyre having an argument (bad grades, behaviour, sassy etc) but in the end she feels bad for her actions and apologises. fluffy/happy ending please <3

the only way to comfort your daughter most of the time was to remind her that spencer was a statistical anomaly.

there was such a small chance of him having such a big, beautiful brain, and it was completely unfair of her to hold herself to the same standards he held himself to. but, she did it anyways. and this caused a lot of tension in the house. especially since she started high school.

claire, your oldest child and only daughter, has been gifted. she was years ahead of her classmates, already taking calculus 1 instead of the algebra her friends were in. but being in these classes came with a lot of work on her part. and you did not mind helping her, but keeping up with the way schools change how they taught or trying to do the hard math she was doing wasn’t going too well.

so, spencer stepped in.

“you’re looking for the derivative here,” spencer spoke, frustrating clear in his voice. “that’s what i just said!” claire exasperated, throwing her arms up and tossing her pencil down the table. “you’re not listening to me!” you could hear the frustration and the hurt in her voice. you wished you could step in, but you knew you’d be no help.

“if you knew that, you shouldn’t have asked for help.” spencer rolled his eyes, growing equally as frustrated. “stop being rude, claire. i’m just trying to help you.” communication had never been spencer’s strong suit.

from your place in the kitchen, you could see the way spencer’s face was getting redder and redder, not liking the way his daughter was talking to him. “hey guys,” you called, quickly hustling around the kitchen to throw together a snack plate, “why don’t we take a break? i have a pre-dinner plate for you guys!” you did your best to cover up the real reason why you were interrupting them. hearing them go back and fourth broke your heart, you knew they didn’t want to argue with each other and it really did upset both of them.

“i gotta get done, mom.” claire deadpanned, once again rolling her eyes. “be kind to your mother.” spencer demanded. “dad!” she shouts, needing spencer to just be quiet.

“claire, go to the living room.” you pushed, shooing her away. they needed space from each other. they were too alike for their own good.

“you didn’t have to do that,” spencer sighs, accepting defeat. “yes, i did, spence. you gotta be nicer when she asks for help.” spencer nods, not really caring for your opinion.

claire had disappeared to her room, working on assignments for other classes. she doesn’t come out until you call everyone down for dinner. she asks her little brother, benny, to switch seats so she could sit next to spencer.

as you’re in the kitchen scooping everyone’s plate, you hear claire talking to her. “dad, i finished the homework.” she says, not elaborating. “yeah, how’d it go?” he smiles at her. the anger he was feeling washed away just as quickly as it came. “yeah, i had mixed up the different variables a few steps up. i had to resolve it like six times.” she explains. “great job, claire bear.” claire smiles.

claire was like her father, never one to apologize despite knowing she was wrong. neither of them would say the words “i’m sorry”, but the way they shared a bowl of chocolate ice cream for dessert was more meaningful anyways.

[obsessedwithspiderman2099]

Wisteria

Part three

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Word count: 1,168

Synopsis: Someone has been running laps around Miguel’s mind.

“Where’s Miguel???”

This had been the question all week long in the spider society. After ten pm he was gone. For other spiders, this was a normal if not longer time to leave work. But for Miguel, the workaholic rarely left his office. No one could successfully kick him out, not even Lyla. But for some reason ever since he stopped that lizard anomaly from Earth 1829, something about him has been different..

Jess was the first to clock it when she actually saw a smile form on his face. “Something’s up.” She told Lyla. “With Miguel?” “Who else? He’s been leaving at a normal time and hasn’t been frowning as much as he usually does.” Lyla thought for a moment about it, “you know I have been seeing him a little bit happier lately…”

She immediately began pulling up his files and stalking through them. Her yellow skin got brighter for a second when she found the reason.

“Aha!” She said, fishing out a tiny imaginary digital file and pulling it up.

“About two nights ago, he walked this woman, y/n l/n, home to her apartment after successfully taking down an anomaly that was in her area. He met her again last night to walk her home, which is probably the cause!”

They both looked at each other for a second.

“You don’t think he’s….” “No! I’ve never seen him like that before..” “Maybe she and he…-“

“Maybe who and I what.”

The two froze and turned around, Miguel right beside them now. His mask was off, with an eyebrow raised and the usual grumpy expression was looking at them.

“Miguel! We were just talking about work-“ “So who’s y/n?” Lyla asked, almost casually.

Although he didn’t move or seem surprised by the question, a small hint of blush formed on his tan skin. Jess noticed it immediately, but kept the thought to herself.

“She’s a citizen I was helping yesterday.” “And the day before? Sooo what’s up with that?” Lyla says, poking at the already annoyed bear.

“Lyla. Stop. It’s none of your business, I was just helping her.” He then turned to Jess, “It’s not yours either.” “Sorry, I guess I’ll get back to work.” Jess raised her arms up in defense, and left the two alone.

“Riiiiight, so why’d you go back.”

Lyla continued, making Miguel roll his eyes at her in annoyance. “She said she walks home every night, I was just being Spider-Man and walked her home.” “So why didn’t you just give her a taser and call it a day?” “Lyla, I'm not having this talk with you.” He said, and tried to shoo her away, but she went through his hand, staying in her spot around his shoulder now.

“Are you hiding something Miguel?” “No.”

“Then why does it look ,Ike you got sunburnt on your face.” “What? It doesn’t! Ugh- I’m not talking about this anymore.” He stormed off, slamming the door to his office on the way in.

“He’s definitely hiding something.” Lyla said to herself before glitching off, away to deal with something else.

Miguel stood in his office, looking at different screens.

With anomalies always appearing in different earths, there was always trouble to deal with everywhere. Checking multiple earths through the screens, he accidentally (completely purposefully) checks yours. Seeing nothing but semi empty streets lightly peppered with the usual purple flowers, he becomes curious.

What are you doing right now?

Probably in the book store helping with someone, or just being the kind person you were, but what? He wondered, subconsciously checking on more of your world. He didn’t know the Spider-Man who ran it, but after checking his files and the footage of him, he didn’t need to.

Although being presented and acting like an eco-friendly and caring hero, the man was really an arrogant and selfish person. After watching some interviews and reading his canon events, Miguel was already sick of the man. Working with the largest corporations in your earth to actually go against the climate instead of helping protect it like he promised and ignoring the people he was supposed to be saving, Spider-Man 1829 was a villain.

Miguel scoffed at the news, of course it had to be your universe. Of course that kind of ‘hero’ had to be protecting your earth.

He soon fell down a well of his own thoughts, not noticing Lyla popping up next to him until she spoke up.

“Still thinking about that woman?” She asked, propped up on a tiny digital yellow chair the same size as her.

Miguel jumped ( his non-existent spidey sense was always a huge help), “What? No!” “Then why’s her earth's footage covering your screens?” A smug smile plastered on her face, knowing she caught him red handed.

He grumbled, taking it off the yellow holographic screens.

“Anything else you have to say?” “Nope!”

And with that, she popped into thin air, leaving the already tired and annoyed Spider-Man even more in the regular feeling she had while working. He sighed, pinching the brick of his nose.

“Why did I program her like that??”

This was a question he repeated regularly.

Suddenly a message signaling the presence of an anomaly in a different earth showed up, prompting Miguel to go on a mission. He sighed, and turned his mask back on, covering his tan and tired face. He was back in the game.

After two more annoyingly difficult missions, Miguel was back sitting in his office.

Running a hand through his hair, he checked the clock. 9:48. His heart skipped a beat, knowing it was almost time to see you again. He stopped for a minute.

Wait. Why’d he have that reaction?

He barely knew you, and this was just him doing Spider-Man work. Right? Regardless, Miguel stood up and began to push the coordinates of your world onto his goober. After stepping into the brightly colored portal that appeared in front of him and going through the time tubes to your world, he landed on the familiar concrete.

Immediately clocking the rain that was pouring down, he sighed and quickly went back to hq to find an umbrella for you. Just in case. Miguel fished one out of the corner of his office, and continued on his plan.

He entered earth 1829 once again, and read his clock. 9:57. Looking down from the top of the building he landed on, he noticed the dimly lit lights of your bookstore still on. He remembered you mentioning your interest in books, and complaining about the screens that people were beginning to turn to instead of reading a physical copy. Miguel admired your love for literature and the earth, something he never really stopped liking either.

Again lost in thoughts surrounding you, he didn’t realize it was closing time until you were locking the front door of the shop. A smile emerged on his face under the mask he wore, watching you for a second. You were wearing nothing but a small shirt and shorts, clearly not knowing the heavy weather that would ensure. Freezing in the wet cold air that cling to you, he swung down to meet you.

“Hey.” He said, standing on the pavement suddenly next to you with the umbrella in hand, You turn to him, a smile he could look at for days on your almost ethereal face.

“You’re back.”

A/N: Oh em gee. My first story done!!! I wasn’t sure if I wanted to end it early or what, but let me know if I should make a part four! My requests are also open for the moment so make sure to give me any ideas y’all are thinking! Thanks for reading!!!

[phyrestartr]

Simple Things [1] | Miguel O'hara x Male!Reader

# SFW, fluff, light comfort, light angst, male!reader, dad!reader, spider!reader, smoking, implied depression, implied trauma, old men just doing their best, dad energy, miguel is a sweetheart and a nerd, multi-part drabble collection

[ 1 ] Smoke Break | [ 2 ] We Change Like the Seasons | [ 3 ] Meet The Kids

Notes: Yes, this will have more parts to it! I'm editing the next bit as we speak (beheh) and it should be up within the week? Maybe? I keep bouncing around from draft to draft, so finishing parts can take a while, pls forgive :pray:

--Smoke Break--

You were just another hero. There wasn't much else to it, you'd decided, and in joining the Spider Society, the same rang true--Miguel didn't think much of it, you didn't think much of it, none of the others did, either. It wasn't a bad thing, no, it was just how it was when one gathered hundreds of superheroes together. Everyone was special in their own worlds, so being a cut above the rest when you were all insane super freaks was exceptionally rare.

Miguel O'hara, however, proved to be exceptional.

Even after all the time that stretched on, he still existed as an anomaly of sorts within HQ. Cool, calm, collected, he led everyone with his head held high and his words resonating like a church bell; everything he said became gospel, everything he said affected their way of saving the multiverse.

Miguel knew that.

You knew that.

Most thought him invincible, unyielding and unforgiving towards the laws of the multiverse, and most admired his dedication. You knew troops clicked well with strong leaders, that they felt secure in their mission and battles when lead by a brave soldier, but your experience-trodden understanding burned in the forefront of your memories.

To you, it was obvious. If you watched his back long enough, if you too often caught glimpses of what he thought were well-hidden tells, the fracturing became all too easy to see.

Miguel was breaking.

You knew that feeling well, the feeling of being unable to bend anymore, to have your limits pushed and surpassed, yet still somehow stay intact and working, like a frayed web.

Maybe that was why you couldn't keep him off your mind. Maybe your primal loneliness, the weeping cracks you'd endured on your lonesome, resonated with another's. Maybe it begged you to do something while you still had the chance.

--

You'd come to see him one day to force some baked goods into his hands and leave, the excuse that you and your daughters had made too much armed and ready on your tongue.

Yes, you were caring, and yes, fine, you were a bit awkward approaching your fearless, strict, hard-ass of a leader with a piece of pie in your hands like you were at some fucking chummy pot luck or parent-teacher night, so you needed an excuse, something to veil your heart. Were you supposed to tell him you were worried about him, or something? No, no, that'd come later (if there was a later).

You expected to see his broad back turned to you, to hear him mumbling to himself or talking into comms; instead, you found him tucked away in the corner of the lab, sat in an old desk chair, napping. His arms rested crossed over his chest, and his head hung down. It was reassuring, a nice reminder that Miguel, too, was mortal just like yourself

The corner of your mouth twitched into something fond and lopsided, though barely there, before quietly, slowly, you left the Tupperware container on his stage console and saw yourself out. You couldn't bear the thought of waking a fellow "old man" from a much-needed nap.

--

Time stretched the way it usually did; missions assigned, spiders injured, anomalies captured--nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary.

But, shit, were you tired. You were always tired, sure, but these days the stress of life and love threatened to break more of you down and grind you into dust. It must have felt terrifying. But you couldn't feel it. Your mind wouldn't let you.

The smoke from your cigarette burned your lungs as you inhaled, grounding you, and reminding you of your existence. You sighed, thankful, and rested your head back against the outside wall of the secluded little balcony you'd found in your mindless wandering. Smoking inside always got you an earful from anyone and everyone in all dimensions, anyway, so you figured you'd skip the scrutiny and take it outside right away. Besides, it was easier to think and wallow this way.

But the door beside you slid open, ruining your quiet. You sighed, letting your eyes fall closed, waiting for the intruder to say something, do something, make themselves known. Seems they weren't in a rush, however.

You cracked an eye open, and spied him. He stared out at the city, his city, and held a clean Tupperware box in his hands. Miguel's fingers drummed against its sides in thought. His twitchy, fidgety restlessness made him too endearing.

"Finished the whole thing, eh?" You asked, cigarette hanging limply between your lips. "Guess you really do have a sweet tooth."

Miguel huffed a laugh, short and sweet, before handing back the box. "Yeah, well, can't say no to homemade food. Besides, Peter stole some." His face soured, nearing an annoyed pout.

"Ah. Bastard." You took the box back, words of gratitude light under your breath. "I'll give him a piece of my mind later."

"Let me know how that works out since, well, that Peter doesn't listen to anyone." Miguel crossed his arms.

"Pretty sure he just doesn't listen to you, Boss."

"Oh, great. Even better." Miguel was smiling, despite his annoyance. His eyes, warm and sullen like those poppies from your memories, flickered over to you, drawing your gaze. You'd never had the chance to speak to him so intimately, to be the only one standing beside him. It felt like a privilege, but it was too mundane to be so. You welcomed it.

"Didn't take you for a baker," Miguel said. His eyes followed your fingers plucking the smoke from your mouth. "Or a smoker."

You sighed as you glanced down at the wisping cigarette. "Yeah, well. I'm not much of the prim and proper hero type, I guess."

Miguel tilted his head, curious. "Never even had a phase?"

You thought back, far back, but shook your head. "Nah, I don't think I ever really had any pep in my step. Not that I can recall, anyway." You took another drag to suffocate resurfacing memories. "...A lot happened before Spiderman happened." For a long moment, you watched the smoke coil. So did Miguel. "But you? I can definitely see you as a peppy youngster."

Miguel sighed, something exasperated and light. "Dios, you're making us sound old."

"Aren't we?" You quirked a brow, almost smiling as Miguel put his hands on his hips. "What, you think we're young when we got kids like Hobie and Gwen running around? Damn, Pav too. That kid's the epitome of 'friendly neighborhood Spiderman.' Don't even get me started on May--"

"Okay, okay, stop, stop, stop," Miguel motored out, raising his palm to defend against the painful truth. "I get it. Y'know, talking to you is a lot more humbling than I thought it'd be."

Oh. You laughed. It surprised you with how it exploded past your defenses, choked and ugly, hampered by the plume of smoke in your lungs. Your hand waved at Miguel as you got lost in your fit, tears pricking your eyes and a smile aching unused muscles.

"Y-you're a dick," you eventually wheezed. "Humbling?"

Miguel smiled, too smug. "It's just been a while since I met another miserable bastard."

"Is that self-awareness?" You flicked ash from the end of your cigarette and shook your head, the aftershocks of laughter still shaking your voice. "Incredible. Inspirational, even."

"Alright, now who's being the asshole here?"

"That'd be me."

"Ah. Self-awareness."

"What can I say? You've inspired me. Such a good leader."

"Yeah, well, inspiration and good leadership come with a fee." His eyes flicked to the Tupperware tucked under your arm.

Your brows raised. Huh. Unexpected. But you nodded, and tapped more wasted ash onto the ground. "You're lucky my kids like to bake. You got a hankering for anything?"

Miguel's lips parted, surprise painting his face cool shades. He blinked then, breaking from whatever spell he found himself in, and ran a hand through his hair. "I--ah. Yeah, just, anything. Whatever your kids want."

"You're gonna regret that, but hey, your call." A comfortable silence fell for a few beats before, very unlike your blasé self, you pressed for the sake of curiosity: "So? Were you a plucky youngster? Sparkling eyes, heroic intentions 'n all that."

Miguel's gaze, pointed at the city, stared through the buildings and perhaps into a time you were not privy to. The tightening of his jaw told you more than you needed to know.

"Yeah, I guess I was." Miguel took a step and rested his elbows on the railing of the small patio. "Things weren't easy back then, but..."

"You didn't have to look after the multiverse?" You wondered, voice soft. The other's unshakeable shoulders slumped. You stuck the cig back in your mouth as you thought about your own history, about what you wish you had the chance to do, about who you could have been, who you wanted to be.

"Did you at least get to live a little?" You asked, maybe a little bit to yourself.

Miguel nodded. "Yeah. But I think I started really living after I became Spiderman."

Somehow, you understood.

"Kinda ironic."

"You're telling me. But it was eye-opening. Life-changing, in a bad way, in a good way." He paused before nodding with contemplative shrug. "Humbling."

"Hm. More humbling than me?"

"If you can believe it."

You snorted and shook your head. "Guess I have no choice."

He hummed, agreeing. Miguel turned, leaning back against the railing and crossing his arms as he regarded you. "You must've had a 'the hero is born' moment," Miguel suggested more than he asked. "We all do." And he was right, logistically--if you were all Spiderman, you all had to have a moment where you really became a hero.

So, you thought for a long, slow moment.

But too quickly did something find a soft, hollow place to fester in your chest. The pain pierced so like losing yourself in December's glacial lakes, so wicked with languid tortures and polar punishments. The pain could fade if you stopped fighting, if you let the water pull you into the peaceful darkness, but you'd indulged in the shameful malady of shadows too many times; your patience and self-loathing had grown so thin.

You don't need to remember, the lady of the lake would whisper to you, voice dripping with tears in a way that sounded so much like her. She lulled you, she pulled you back in, she urged you to turn her way instead of fighting her, instead of reaching for the roiling inferno that was the past. In those moments, in her arms, you never knew if you'd find your way back to the surface, but you were not one to obediently decay in ignorance.

Her wail filled your mind as you breached the blaze, and found that sunny day in the Bronx, with the wind carrying the honeyed scent of summer life when you'd met that pretty little thing from the flower shop...

You twitched a smile. "Well...I guess I--"

"Hey," Lyla suddenly cut in, blipping into existence between Miguel and yourself. The level of relief you felt upon being saved from talking about yourself was unhealthy, but you silently thanked Lyla for it: memories of the blaze and the ice could be put aside for a while longer.

The sprite adjusted her sunnies before continuing, "totally loving the bromance here, really cute, but we got a new anomaly that needs some extra love. You guys feel like kicking some bad guy butt, buddy-cop style?"

"Sure," you cut in before Miguel could. You need out of this conversation now. "I call bad cop. Wanna see good cop Miguel butter up a baddie."

Miguel twitched. "Hey--"

"Oooh, me too," Lyla agreed, nodding sagely.

"I don't think I like you two being on the same side--"

"Let's get the show on the road, Boss." You butted your cigarette out on the wall and set down the container. A warm sunset glow bloomed across you as a portal whirled open, shimmering and humming.

You tapped his chest playfully with your knuckles. "Last one there buys me a six pack."

With a hop, skip, and a jump, you were gone.

Miguel rubbed his face. Lyla fluttered around his head. "Well? Better go after him, good cop."

"You. You aren't allowed to team up with him," Miguel stated as he headed towards the portal. "Starting now, colluding is not allowed."

"Oh, what? Sorry, connection's getting fuzzy--"

"Lyla, don't--"

"Sorry--shhhrk--breaking up--" and she, too, disappeared.

Miguel rolled his eyes. His mask materialized over his face as he followed you, a comfortable fondness resting in his chest, chasing out any turmoil the day had brought him.

Good cop. Bad cop. It was stupid, childish, but maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it was a dumb little something that he needed.

[eretzyisrael]

That's not even the worst example from Sunday.

Iraqi Shiite news site Baratha imagines a world without Zionists - and without Jews:

What would the world lose if the Jews became extinct?! Quite the contrary, humanity will have a good opportunity to live quietly and without the evils of this malicious sect. The idea is so wonderful that I can almost see the desert blooming, the earth getting excited, and millions of beings losing their minds from extreme happiness! Jews are the curse that came from the worst dreams of the accursed Devil. Without them, humanity would not have known atheism, the theory of evolution, and racism. With their help, the prophets were killed, usury and immorality spread, wars broke out, and nations perished. With their dirty thinking, epidemics developed, the death trade became widespread, and the world turned into an arena of conflict in which man eats man and death spreads everywhere. . If humanity had not known this malicious sect, it would not have known socialism, capitalism, and Nazism. It would not have known Zionism, Freemasonry, Illuminati, and Wahhabism. It would not have known the Cold War, nuclear and hydrogen bombs, and it would not have known corruption, anomalies, drugs, cancer, global warming, the right to veto, America, injustice, and oppression. They are a dirty, atheistic sect that claims faith, a dirty race that considers itself the only one worthy of life, and a strange society that contains the essence of meanness, malice, and deception accumulated over thousands of years. Their history is rotten, their books are false, their principles are evil, their morals are malicious, their methods are satanic, their goals are ominous, their presence is dangerous, and their survival is not good for man or animal. These people never lived among a people without their corruption, unrest, and devastation spreading, and they never moved to any country without carrying evil with them to it.. So it behooves all humanity to be hostile to them until it is safe from their evil, and I am not exaggerating here if I say that their disappearance is life and good, and their survival is death and evil. If humanity wants to live in peace, it must first stop their evil; And everyone who stands against them is on the side of truth, goodness and peace. There is no alternative to God’s laws, and the path of Satan and his servants will end in failure. Everyone who stands against them will be helped and supported by God’s care. Goodness, which is the path to salvation, is in standing against evil, not by standing by and watching. The responsibility that one cannot escape from bearing is through awareness, work, and patience, and the outcome is survival and victory in This world and the hereafter, God willing.

Unlike the resurgence of antisemitism in the West, there are next to no articles condemning the incitement to violence that is now widespread. The pretense that arab media had in separating Jews from Zionism in the past 25 years has all but disappeared. The Jews remaining in Tunisia are frightened to death that they will be slaughtered at any time. 

Western NGOs who claim to be supportive of human rights do not say a word against these explicit calls to rid the world of the evil of Jews.