#call for comfort

[ernmark]

Right about this time in 2016 I started my Call For Comfort stories.

Because right now we need something good in the world to keep us sane, and what I have to offer is story.

So if you could, please send me a writing prompt or two, and I'll do what I can.

I'm most recently familiar with

Malevolent

Les Miserables

Star Trek DS9

The Penumbra Podcast

But I've written for a good number of fandoms and I'm willing to try something new.

[miralines]

You want to write about Gawain so bad... Woooo... (thanks for doing this I love your writing!)

Awww thank you for the kind words <3 You're very welcome; I've been having a great time with these. This one ended up long! *****

“Gawain?” Arthur knocks on the doorway of the rusted-out habitat. Gawain makes no response, doesn’t move from where he’s been staring at the wall for days, except perhaps to tense. It’s no use. Arthur walks in and sets a hand on his shoulder. “How’re you holdin’ up?” Gawain doesn’t mean to, but he lets out a sharp, bitter laugh. “How am I holding up? I’m not the one whose fucking *wife and daughter* got–” He chokes on the words. “Look at me, kid.” He forces his eyes up to Arthur’s haggard face. His eyes are shadowed and lined with red. His grief is clear. The hell is he doing here? “It wasn’t your fault, son,” Arthur says firmly. “What the ghouls did to Ygraine, Morgause…” His expression crumples a moment before he steadies himself. “It wasn’t your damn fault, you hear?” “If I’d gotten there faster– if I’d chased them–” “No. Ifs are easy. What happened happened. But Gawain, I need you at my side. You’re no good to me or Camelot like this.” He wants to say he’s clearly not much good to them anyway, if he let this happen. He knows better than to challenge Arthur. He’s not a man of empty words. Gawain stands. “I’ll– I’ll serve you for as long as you’ll have me, sheriff.” Arthur claps him on the back. “Good man.” He begins to lead him out into the sun. “Come on. We’ve got work to do.”

[kraymerman]

Is anyone else scared of skyboxes in video games? Like, absolutely, deep-subconcious, debilitatingly terrified of skyboxes? Like, if I'm just seeing it in the sky (LIKE IT SHOULD BE), I'm fine, but if I can see it to my sides, or god forbid UNDER me, I start legit panicking.

Something about the possibility of falling/floating forever while surround by a still, unmoving image depicting a distortion of something (usually) solid that I can't ever get any closer to no matter how hard I try paralyzes me with how badly it scares me.

I was once trying the skip in Metroid Prime 2 where you skip the part where you lose your equipment, and I, no joke, nearly had a panic attack when I was inching along the collision and the inky black void that surrounded the play space was abruptly replaced with the "outside" skybox.

And Ghostly Galaxy. Good fucking god Ghostly Galaxy from Super Mario Galaxy. I haven't played that game in years and that skybox still haunts me. One of my absolute worst nightmares that I've ever had in my entire life was about that skybox. The pattern combined with how you can, just by playing normally, see the points where the image wraps at the top and bottom of the sphere, man. Not to trauma dump, but that skybox torments me, it's one of the most horrifying things I've ever seen ever.

Please tell me I'm not alone. Other people find skyboxes this scary too, right?!

[dmitriene]

cw: könig is a weirdo and reader match him.

könig likes pretty things, young and vulnerable dolls that bat their eyelashes prettily at him, wrapping their dainty hands around his thick bicep, trailing beside him despite his perverse touch, letting him lure them to his messed bed in some dark apartment, fuck their brain silly.

it's always a one time thing, könig ain't good for a long term relationship because of the bitter need to posses that been festering in him from the start, they just use each other, he has a lovely built body that makes girls salivate, and he packs a cock that is too thick you able to feel the ache even the next morning while trying to escape his apartment.

it's not the same with you, könig notices it by the way you cling to him while he punches his fat cock in your tight pussy, shallow thrusts of his wide hips making his thick cockhead pummel into your spongy spot, your hands clinging against his broad shoulders, walls tightening with rapid pulsing.

you ask him for kisses, enveloping his rough mug with your delicate palms and letting his tongue make out sloppily with your mouth, whining broken groans as he presses a wide palm to your tummy, feeling the bulge beneath where his girthy cock pistons in you, making your pussy squelch with each wet glide, as you coat his length in oozing slick.

you even let könig cum in you, flooding you full of creamy cum that drips out your pulsing hole, making a mess from the sheets and your trembling thighs, not uttering for once that now everything is tacky, instead, you curl against him like affectionate kitten and try to nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck and wrap your cramping legs around his waist.

könig doesn't even knows what to think, you don't try to escape his bed immediately, instead pressing your naked body against his beefy one, letting his twitching cock stay buried inside of you, cockwarmed by your snug walls, as you let his burly hands envelope your frame and rock you to sleep like a baby.

and when you wake up early in the morning with pleasurable ache in your body and pussy throbbing, welcomed by the sight of breakfast in bed and könig clinging to you like a pup, smothering your neck in sloppy kisses and slurringly calling you his girlfriend, you don't run away.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[gothghostiie]

thinking about something that happened to me while babysitting and I am unable to cope with it so obviously I have to make it something for yall

thinking about babysitter!reader being hired by price, you just go to check on the little one in their nursery. the baby is sleeping peacefully, you close the door - but the handle fucking breaks off. naturally you start to panic, the baby is in there all alone and you can't get in, so you call price in literal tears. telling him what happened, desperately scrambling around to look at the baby monitor. He tells you to take a breath, trying to get you to calm down, that its okay, he'll come home.

you're sat on the couch, crying in a panic while watching the blisfully unaware baby over the monitor until Price gets home. he comes in, making a beeline to the small utility room, then to the nursery. its an easy and quick fix, you definitely could have done it yourself you think as you watch over his shoulder. he opens the door quickly and sees the sleeping baby before closing the door with a chuckle and turning to you. you're still sniffling, babbling soft apologies, telling him youll understand if he doesn't pay or ever hires you again - but he shakes his head and leads you to the couch with him, sitting you down.

"sit, love. take a breath." he murmurs, vanishing to the kitchen, from where he comes back a minute later with a cup of tea that he hands you. sits down next to you, then gently pulls you into his side. "C'mere now. its alright bird, don't cry now."

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

I need Simon Riley who realizes just how much he loves you when he has a night terror.

He shoots out of bed with a shout, quickly looking to your side just to see it empty. His heart quickens even faster, images of your dead body, blood pouring out of your mouth and ears, eyes frantic before they still and glaze over. Remembering the scream he lets out as he shakes you, begging you.

"Please, please don't fuckin leave, love. God, not you. Please, you promised!"

He's having a panic attack and before he even processes it, he's running to the bathroom. Throwing him head into the toilet bowl, puking everything up as if his entire body is rejecting the very possibility of you no longer being there. He can't stop the tears ripping out of him and his fast, suffocating breaths stinging his throat as if the vomit isn't even there.

He doesn't even register your hand on his back, your panicked calling out to him.

"Baby? Baby what's wrong? Please talk to me" You beg, brushing his hair back, trying to hold onto him.

His wide, tear filled eyes meet yours and he throws himself into your arms, holding onto you like a lifeline. His crying doesn't stop, the intense emotions still overwhelming his senses.

"God please never leave me. I swear to god I'll be the best for you. I'll keep you safe, nothin's gonna happen to you" He swear as if he'd be your own guardian angel.

"Baby what happened? Did you have a nightmare?" You pet his hair, beginning to realize what's happening.

"I can't lose you, I can't. Not you. Please, I can't." He cries into your shirt, trying to calm down but he feels genuine fear that he doesn't feel outside the battlefield. You hold him as his breathing slows down, exhaustion overtaking him. You settle against the wall, fingers combing through his hair as you both fall asleep. Safe to say he doesn't have anymore nightmares that night.

(Friendly reminder that traumatized men aren't always fully numb and military men can have feelings !!)

[dunmeshistash]

Dungeon Meshi Daydream Hour

Modern Clothing Sketches - Otta, Milsiril, Falin, Marcille and Laios.

[feralforbeanix]

He loved her immediately I'm gonna cry

[lgbtq-userboxes]

[tungledotedu]

uh why the fuck would you say this

this post has 3000 notes and they get worse.

el-shab-hussein has already explained why he no longer shares how he vets individual fundraisers. scammers will use the information to be less obvious, making it more difficult to spot them.

and senatortedcruz's post has no actual proof of a widespread scam. that is a serious accusation to make, yet people are reblogging it and accepting it as true with no evidence. i won't deny that there are individual grifters on tumblr, but there are accounts like @/neechees, kyra45 and anonthescambuster that will help you avoid them. hussein even has a #scam alert tag for this purpose.

it's racist to spread misinformation about a supposed large-scale deception posing as fundraisers, not to mention dangerous because this makes it less likely for gazans to get what they need to survive and escape relentless airstrikes. we've already seen the consequences of this bias. some of these people are all too happy to be cops and harass or report gazans thinking they're bots or 'spamming' inboxes.

almost nobody on that post is encouraging others to donate to organisations or other vetted lists like those by operation olive branch, which has a faq sheet that explains how they verify fundraisers. i suspect this is an attempt to discourage people from helping palestinians altogether.

gazans are making fundraisers because they have no other choice. many of them cannot work and earn money as their workplaces have been destroyed. some have been disabled by injuries thanks to the iof's targeting of civilians. the fault is on israel for besieging them and on the egyptian government for exploiting their need to evacuate.

they're doing this for the same reason they have been posting photographs and videos of genocide so that people will pay attention to their suffering, so the world will not forget. is it such a leap in logic to understand they will also use social media to start fundraisers? do you just expect them to sit there and die in silence? so you can ignore them and your countries can keep arming israel as it commits atrocities?

[hana-no-seiiki]

yandere! husband who’s so fucking in love with you that even dreaming about kissing another person makes him wake up in cold sweat, rushing to the bathroom to wash his lips raw.

funny how even as he proceeded to surround himself with water, only the guilt drowned him.

[ernmark]

For the writing prompt, maybe Rilla is great at baking (exact measurements and technical skills) but Arum is great at cooking (does it all by instinct, taught himself) and Damien (bad at cooking, overthinks too much and can burn water) gets to reap the rewards

Thank you for the prompt.

I didn't realize how long it's been since I wrote my favorite bouquet, but damn I love them.

As before, if anyone else wants a ficlet, you're welcome to send me a writing prompt.

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast (Second Citadel)

Characters: Rilla, Damien, Arum

Rating: G

"Well?" Arum's tail lashes the floor irritably-- which is to say, anxiously-- as he waits for Damien's judgement. Which-- really, he should know better than to ask Damien of all people to judge this contest. He should know better than to make it a contest at all, but if he had to pick a judge, it really should have been Marc and Tal (biased, he'd said) or that friend of  Angelo's (unavailable). Even Caroline would have been efficient, if brutal.

So they're going with Damien.

"The texture is truly fascinating," Damien says."It's challenging-- it brings to mind a trek up a formidable slope to witness a sunrise at the mountain's peak--"

By which he means that it's somehow both crumbly and tough in a way that cakes really aren't supposed to be.

"-- and the flavor is utterly nectarous, with that subtle undertone of bitterness to offer surprising depth."

Which means that maybe Arum shouldn't have used honey and sugar and agave if he'd wanted Damien to taste anything but sweetness and the spots that had gotten burnt in the process of getting it cooked all the way through. Monsters in general might have been making the world's finest cakes for centuries, but Arum specifically wasn't made with that skill in mind.

The thing is, Damien isn't just being tactful. He means what he says, flowery prose and all, and he's downing his slice of cake with the same enthusiasm that he brings to pretty much everything. His beloved lizard lord made that cake, which makes it one of Damien's new favorite desserts-- just like the jambalaya Rilla made for their earlier contest utterly delighted him, even when tears were streaming down his face from the admittedly overzealous application of peppers, and even though it was charred enough to potentially serve as a treatment for ingested poisons. He'd even asked for seconds!

But that had been nothing compared to the look of rapture on his face when he'd tasted Arum's stir-fry, like it had been handed down by his saintly namesake himself. 

It's the same expression he wore when Rilla served him her entry in the desert contest,  like her papaya macarons were a religious experience.

Which, knowing Damien, maybe they were.

While he keeps working on the world's chewiest cake, Arum and Rilla exchange looks over his head. A lash of his tail, a tilt of his head, a little twirl of his lower wrist: I concede the victory to you.

A flash of a grin, a hand flat against her chest in imitation of modesty: thank you,  you're far too kind.

She'll maybe gloat a little later, even when the three of them are nestled together for the night. Arum did his share of preening after last night's cooking competition, after all. And Damien just seems happy to cheer them both on. He is, after all, an avid fan of friendly competition.

[miralines]

The Queen of Hearts <3

*excellent* hehe…

****

Hearts is beginning to think there’s something wrong with her.

Perhaps it started with the name. She was once Red-993412, but after things changed, after it became just her and her sisters and that pack of cards, it had made some kind of sense to have one. It felt… correct, somehow.

But the longer she and her sisters go on, the more she has to make do with no commander and broken equipment and scavenged food that is in no way the rations she was meant to eat–

She knows her purpose. She is a Rose Red. *She is a Rose Red.*

So why does she have no orders? Why does she have to look at her sisters and command them as if she were their colonel? Why does it seem more and more, the longer this goes on, right somehow?

Sometimes she feels like King Cole has forgotten this place. That no matter how long she serves him, she will never fulfill her mission. It will never matter.

It makes her head ache, but her sisters depend on her.

What else can she do but continue?

What is there for a Rose Red, even one who feels half-mad, but to march on?

[hinamie]

"I'll show you every day that choosing to live was worth it"

some of my favourite scenes from @hijinks-n-lowjinks' fic things i would miss from the other side . this fic tore my heart out fr but like in a good way and i wanted to pay it homage the only way i know how <3

[dmitriene]

continuation to this small work, cw: two freaks in love.

könig finds out you're kind of shy, a meek, pretty thing, sure, you send him such a revealing, unabashed polaroid pictures, but now, with him appearing out of nowhere at your door, giant and rugged, your fingers fiddle nervously at your own clothes, tugging down and trembling at your sides, wide eyes looking at the letter he holds in his gloved hand, from colonel, to you, name written by the way you already memorized, making you understand that it's really him.

the man you sent your nudes to, who would've know that he'd get so obsessed to try and find you like possessed dog, but you welcome him nonetheless, shuffling aside to let him in, bend his head down with a curl to his back so he would get past the doorway to your living room, dirty boots leaving a crumbs of dirt, his gear coated in things you don't want to know about, but his bright, unmovingly focused eyes look at you with a crinkle of delight, pupils could've dilate by now.

sure, könig is a little bit sad you didn't welcome him naked, or undressing at the very first sight of him, but he can work from what he got, from your shy touches when he wraps a hand around yours, for a handshake, that's it, but his by now ungloved, sandpapered fingers rub and circle around your wrist, curious, almost shuddering at the feel of your much smoother, gentle skin against his, and just this is enough to turn him on, cock swelling hard in his cargos.

he wonders if you'll let him bend you over the couch and eat your pussy from the back, or just stretch your pretty hole around his swollen cock, but you ask him questions, how he found you, why, does he wants something to eat, but könig already plans a small wedding for you two so he could make you his forever, an adorable housewife that will take care of her hard working husband with sending him pictures of her holes he could pump full after coming home.

könig tells you everything, how much times you made him cum, that he fantasized about you in any possible situation and position, dreamed of entering his quarters, and instead of a empty, boring room see you curled at his bed, his thumb tracing along your knee all the while he babbles your ears off with all disgusting, horny talks, but it's amuses you, to the point your thighs start to clench together, pressing harsh, as you lean in, watching his eyes nearly eclipse from the very little contact.

you put the letter he brought aside on the table, instead, asking your questions, and then answering his, which only contain of awkward, boyish laugh and stuttering words of if he looks the way you imagined, and könig is, a little bit awkward, in the same time cocky enough to touch you, nearly groping, looking enchanted on the outline of your breasts from beneath your sleeping shirt, before rubbing an sweaty hand against the back of his hooded head, such a silly man.

nearly jumps out of his pants when you offer him to take a bath at your place, voice mellowy and inviting, and könig trots behind you with a wagging tail when you lead the way, filling the bath full of warm water and couple drops of shower gel, making some bubbles that not really suit him, but would make the room smell nice and block out all that reeks out from him when he starts to undress, preening under your touch when you help to unclasp couple of things off his gear, könig holding down from to not shove your hand down his crotch.

it's when you join him that he gets insistent, all your shy act dropping down, your nails raking down the expanse of his toned, tissued back with tiny, reddening streaks, as könig corners you against the bathtub ceramic, moaning raggedly and humping your pussy persistently, messy, hips grinding and twitching, and the way he acts so eager and silly makes you really aroused, mewling right against his wet ear as he sloppily makes out with your neck, his hair and stubble rubbing all over your sensitive, bruised skin, sharp teeth's closing around the warmed flesh.

seems like now, you have a strange kind of boyfriend, a military colonel, a right pervert, and a pussy drunk pup that pumps your soppy, gummy cunt full of his thick, creamy release, one he kept in his balls especially for your meeting, his vision nearly blackening from how long his cock throbbed and spurted, squeezed tight by your pulsing, milking walls, enjoying your palms stroking his face, cooing at him hushed and lulling, everything könig dreamt of.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[finalgrrrl]

straight women should never have learned the word fruity from tiktok