#chain mail j

[meowmeowfication]

i keep getting chain mail texts and as an averagely stitious person, im gonna post it to tumblr to curse my mutuals

[tgirlwithreverb]

I saw that post about what to do if you're homeless again (the one that starts by telling you to spend all of your money on motel rooms lmao) anyway, here's a few thoughts, specifically for trans girls, cuz I don't really care otherwise tbh:

1) plan ahead, most trans girls are in precarious housing situations, you will have a much easier time when it falls apart if you already have a pack with most of the gear you need in it. Also, if you find yourself in a situation where you cant make rent, dont pay part of it, spend that money on gear, pocket the rest and leave, youll have a much nicer time. Look up your local eviction laws, you have plenty of time. (Gear list at the end)

2) travel! If you're in Arizona in May, leave. it's about to be hot as hell. If you're in Michigan in October, leave. It's about to be cold as hell. If you're in a big city, leave. It's way easier to be homeless pretty much anywhere else. Amtrak is cheaper and more comfortable than greyhound, hitchhiking is free and easy, if you're alone it's not that much slower than the previous two, and it's more fun, and sometimes people buy you food or whatever or give you money. I promise it's not scary and you're entirely capable of doing it, no matter who you are. 95+% of people who will pick you up are very nice. All you have to do is take the bus out of town, as far down the highway you can, to an exit with a truck stop if possible, then just stand on the side of the road with your thumb out until someone picks you up. You can stand at the bottom of the ramp(on the highway) near where the merge lane ends or at the top of the ramp(where there's usually a traffic light), the former is more likely to lead to cop interactions but will maybe get you a ride faster, check on hitchwiki for how the cops are in the area. don't be afraid to take a commuter bus or Amtrak to get out of a shitty cop area

3) skip shelters if you can (they are very occasionally a decent place to get stuff from) and encampments, good places to sleep include the trees near railroad tracks or highways, wooded areas behind shopping centers, sections of parks without paths, overgrown empty lots. Hang a tarp above you if there's an appreciable chance of rain, there's tons of YouTube tutorials on how to do this, maybe I'll make a post about what I usually do some day. There are many habits more fun than motel rooms, save your money for them lmao.

4) get on food stamps. This is easier in some places than others, but it makes the whole thing a lot easier. Just tell them you're homeless, if they don't give you a card the same day, you can probably ask to pick it up from that office, alternatively some drop in centers/day shelters can receive mail for you, or you can have it sent to general delivery(USPS service, look it up)

7) libraries are great for charging your phone and using wifi, but also keep an eye out, plenty of random outlets on the outsides of buildings are also powered

5) dumpster. sidewalk trash cans, Aldi, Einstein's, trader Joe's, pizza places, etc. You need to develop a bit of a sense for it but it's an easy way to get cooked food or travelling food or expensive food without spending resources. Also it's fun.

6) water is free, go into the bathroom of any gas station or grocery store in America(offer not valid in most big cities or on the west coast, but in that case just go to the library) and fill up your water bottle

8) hygiene notes: truckers get free showers from chain truck stops(loves, pilot/flying j) go there and ask them. convenient if you're hitchhiking, also you don't need to shower 3 times a day, really, you'll survive. Ditto with deodorant. Take care of your teeth though. Take your socks off every. day. Change them consistently. Safety razors give a good shave, work well without adequate water pressure, and the replacement blades are very stealable, they're kind of heavy though. Walmart makes these electric razors for women that take AA batteries and are pretty light but give a worse shave, also they kinda go through batteries, pick whatever works for you(cartridge razors suck)

9) traveling food notes: peanut butter is great, tortillas and bagels travel pretty well, tuna packets are pretty good protein for traveling(the ones with rice and beans or whatever are nice since theyre often the same price as the regular), condiment packets are free, hot sauce makes everything better, and mayo goes well with tuna and has a bunch of calories in it, salad dressing packets are free from truck stops and work well turning the Walmart shredded vegetable packages (labeled for making into slaw, next to the bagged salads) into a salad with real vegetables(not iceberg lettuce) in it or mixing in with tuna packets for even more calories than mayo

Gear world:

Necessary items(in order of importance): a gallon of water carrying capacity(an Arizona jug or other twist top jug is conventional, but a bladder+arizona bottles also works), a tarp(larger than 6'x9', not brightly colored), a hank of parachord, a sleeping bag (20° rated, synthetic insulation), a backpack with a padded hip belt(at least 50L, no more than 75), rain gear(a rain poncho might cover your pack too, a rain jacket can help with wind when its cold, a trash bag inside or outside your pack can keep it dry, a plan to watch the weather and not get caught also works), a z-fold foam sleeping pad, three pairs of socks, two pairs of underwear (at least one pair of boxer breifs strongly recommended if you arent incredibly skinny), a decent pair of shoes with good arch support, a functional jacket(skip if you got a rain jacket before), a base layer(wool or poly, absolutely no cotton)

Convenient items: a sleeping bag liner(cotton free, keeps you warm in winter and cool in summer), gallon zip locks to pack your stuff in(helps keep it dry and organized), no more than one change of clothes(as light as possible), a multi-tool(can opener, pliers, wire cutter), lighter(burning rope ends etc), spoon, floss and needles for patching

[didyoulookforme]

some lore building here on the messages au...

(mostly me thinking outloud because i love yapping about a character's appearance lol)

au masterlist here

-----

one of the things about postman matty is that he lives in his band shirts, chains, sneakers, hat, etc. most of the time as this allows him to keep his effortlessly cool musician vibes while working as a mailman. during the day, it's all about comfort as this boy has to walk about 30k steps during every shift to delivery all of those letters and packages. he doesn't want to fully conform to a uniform, so the band tees and weathered hats give him a sense of self. plus, we know he just wants to try and be cool at all times. he's gotten in trouble with management on many occasions before for breaking uniform code, but he always sweet talks himself out of any real punishment.

exhibits a, b, c: quintessential postmatty vibes right here ⬇

note the baggy (and sometimes ratty) shirts, hair can be straight or sometimes curly, always has at least one necklace on.

the beloved and infamous black leather bag also makes an appearance quite often as you guess he's just used to wearing one at all times due to work.

exhibits d, e, f: the trusty man purse in action.

when things get a bit strange(r) is when he tries to dress up a he doesn't quite know what to do with himself.

exhibit g: the khakis and dad tie combo that make him look like the front man of ac/dc. it could definitely be worse, but your bf needs some guidance. and in his favour, when he sent you this photo all your focus was on his crotch, so that kept you from sending him texts about your dislike regarding his outfit choice.

BUT there are moments when you just cannot help but say something, like the time he wore those mf karaoke shoes.

after that incident, he makes sure to consult you regarding more dressy outfit & shoe options. bless him. he values your opinion and wants to look good for his girl when he takes you out on a fancier night out. you've since been shopping with him to help him pick out some pieces of clothing.

exhibit h, i, j: he's taken your advice on top options to complement his collection of t-shirts.

anyway, tl:dr, clothing is a love language between postmatty and girlie <3

i feel like there could definitely be some blurbs & rambles regarding this aspect of their personas and relationship. some ideas:

maybe you taking him shopping and him trying out stuff for you?

him delivering your mail and showing dressed up rather nicely and you not being able to keep you hands off him so you make him late for work?

you discovering he sometimes wears skirts during his shows. which you didn't know because you usually just saw him during the day in his mailman uniform. and you fucking love a man in a skirt.

let's me know any thoughts you might have about postmatty and anything you might want to see in this au. again, i'd love to take your input and ideas to help build upon this world so my inbox is always open!

tysm if you made it this far. i love you <3

[yippie-madness]

BEFORE SENDING AN ASK: SAVIOUR COMPLEX FREAKS FUCK OFF! no chain mail, no recovery pushing or un asked for advice, no "🎇 You may be a mentally ill fuck, but their is hope!! your personality can be cured!! 🎇" type asks (ill carve the emoji you use into myself and reply with a pic! /j. maybe). check please tag list (below)

please tag: psych ward/mental hospital (#tw psych ward, #tw mental hospital), forced treatment/"recovery" (i.e. forced meds/drugging, forced therapy, forced to be "clean") (#tw forced treatment, #tw forced recovery, #tw drugging), restraints (including chemical restraints) (#tw restraints, #tw drugging), and schizobait and unreality (#schizobait, #unreality)

DNI: porn blogs, 18+/mDNI blogs (im a minor), zionist scum. i block most tcc blogs.

DM ME/SEND ME AN ASK IF YOU NEED HELP WITH HARM REDUCTION!!! moots can dm for sfx pics.

minor, they/them, cvts (sometimes janet). moots can dm me for janets blog

life long goal to die by my own hand, the usual. cutting for 4/5 years. first suicide attempt at age 8 or 9, it was crap lmao. sometimes i hallucinate or something? idk

anti-psych, pro bodily autonomy (yes that means im pro sh/ed and suicide). forced recovery kills, psychiatrist are pigs. your worth isnt based on wether you go to therapy or not or whatever, your more then your productivity.

feel free to dm me, i only bite sometimes

[oh-mother-fucket]

*..STARS..*

A fic in which Hank has a hyperfixation.

Featuring: Hank, Hank's illiteracy, 2BDamned, and Deimos

====

If you looked up at a Nevadean night sky, you wouldn’t see stars. No one really knew what a star was, at least outside of the five-pointed ones that went on the doors of the Slaughter Time contestants’ rooms.

No, instead of stars, you’d see a big black void. That’s it. Depending on the time of night, it might be more red, but it wouldn’t change besides that.

When Hank was little– about five or six– he was told that once upon a time, there were tiny pinpricks of glittering light speckled across the night sky. They used to believe it, until he turned fifteen and had bigger things to worry about.

Hank didn’t think about those old myths anymore. They were about as inconsequential to them as Santa Claus would be to a middle-aged childless man. After all, Hank had things to do, fun to have, people to kill. No time to waste on an old wives’ tale.

It was nighttime when 2BDAMNED sent Hank a text. Hank was staring up at the sky, so he didn’t notice he was getting messages until they realized their phone was buzzing. They looked at the previews on his screen. 

“Wimbleton,” the latest one read, “call me now.”

More than a tad amused at the order, Hank scoffed. He looked back up at the sky.

Nothing. Like always. Hank could pretend that he saw glints of light from the darkness above, but pretending could only get him so far.

Their phone began to ring. Chuckling, they picked it up and hit “answer”.

“Hank J. Wimbleton, you’d best have a good reason for not–”

“Sky.” Hank shrugged. “Lookin’.” He didn’t feel like talking much, and in any case, he knew his short answer would piss Doc off– which was their goal.

A loud sigh from Doc. “And I thought I was hard to deal with…” A short pause before he started talking again. “Deimos is asking me about shit I think you’d know about. He’ll probably be blowing up your phone once he gets home.”

Hank tensed up, irritation seeping into them. “Not gonna,” he growled lowly. They hung up the phone and went back to looking at the sky.

…The phone rang again.

Goddamnit. Hank picked it up. “Not gonna.”

“Wimbleton, hang up on me again and I’ll rearrange your teeth.” Doc sighed. “I know he can be… difficult to deal with, for someone like you.”

Hank scoffed. “To say the least,” he remarked.

“Uh-huh, yeah, whatever. I don’t care anymore. Just answer his questions or you’ll be receiving an extra knuckle, and not in the mail.” Doc hung up, leaving Hank in silence again.

If there was anyone, anyone at all that Hank would say he had strong negative feelings about– well, it would be Tricky, but Deimos came in close second.

Just the way he was ticked Hank off. That dumbass outfit, his fidgety nature, his raspy voice–

Ugh. Made Hank pissed just thinking about it.

He shoved his phone in his pocket and went inside. The building was attached to several others– an apartment complex, was it called? Hank preferred the term “chain house”.

The interior looked nothing like the exterior. Shockingly, Hank had put in the effort to spruce up the place ever since he claimed it as his hiding place. It didn’t have a carpet– Hank couldn’t afford one– but it did have a red rug in the living room. 

They collapsed onto the beat-up couch and sighed. Deimos would call any minute now, and Hank was dreading it.

Any minute now…

Bzzt. There it was.

Hank picked up the phone, and was immediately greeted by Deimos’s voice. “Hey Hank! Had some questions I thought you might like to answer.” The man laughed. Hank could practically smell his smoky breath.

“Hit me.” Hank leaned back, getting comfy on the couch. Knowing Deimos, this would be a while. He took off his goggles, putting them on the coffee table.

Deimos chuckled. “Thanks, pal! Knew you’d let me bother ya.”

A scoff escaped from Hank. Let you? Yeah, whatever makes you happy.

“So, like, you’re old,” Deimos began. “You ever seen stars?”

What a strange question. “Not sure what my age has to do with my propensity to get lightheaded,” Hank replied curtly. He brought his finger to the “end call” button, but stopped when Deimos clarified.

“I meant like, in the sky. You ever see those?”

Hank paused. He hadn’t thought about stars… in a long time. “Haven’t.” He hung up.

The phone started ringing again soon after, but Hank tried to ignore it. What made him curious about stars? Hank wondered. It’s not like Deimos was ever interested in anything that wasn’t guns or eating or pissing him off. How strange of him to ask about that.

Stars weren’t ever something Hank could remember dwelling on. Maybe when he was first told about them, he might have obsessed a bit, but they couldn’t recall.

The phone stopped ringing after a few minutes, but Hank’s head was still buzzing. Stars. I wonder if they ever did exist. They laid back on the couch, trying to ignore the thought. It wasn’t important, and besides, Deimos would forget in a few hours. And so would they, hopefully.

~ ~ ~

The sound of metal tearing through flesh was like music to Hank’s ears, a brief reprieve from thoughts about that old myth.

Gunshots sounded through the room. “Heads up!” Cried Deimos, a bit late. Hank ducked just in time to get the top of his head grazed by a bullet, and one lodged itself in his shoulder. They hissed in pain, ignoring the thump of the bodies in front of him and snapping his head to glare daggers at Deimos.

Deimos merely chuckled. “Be faster next time!” he exclaimed. He ran past Hank and grabbed one of the agents the pair were slaughtering, pulling them close and shooting them point blank in the face.

Rolling his eyes in irritation, Hank stood up and turned to take care of the remaining agents on his side of the room. He pounced on one, beating their face into a pulp, until he was grabbed by another agent. 

They growled, falling limp and forcing the agent to buckle under their dead weight, then got up and stomped the agent’s head in. He grabbed a knife off the agent and pounced again, tackling a nearby agent and slitting their throat.

If Hank could still smile, he would probably laugh.

He nearly jumped feeling someone grab their arm, and reached around to throw the person over their shoulder. “Yeowch!” Deimos yelped, hitting the ground hard. Hank chuckled as Deimos got up, glaring. “Dude, it’s just me!”

“Serves you right,” Hank replied. Deimos flipped them off with a scowl.

Hank looked around, surveying the carnage. Not a single agent even twitched. He sighed, the adrenaline slowly wearing off and giving way to exhaustion. Their chest heaving, they began to walk to the door.

Deimos sprinted up to them, grabbing their arm. “Woah woah woah man, we can’t leave yet!” He tried to tug Hank back, but they refused to budge. Deimos sighed. “We gotta double tap! Y’know… make sure everyone’s dead and that.”

Oh, right. How did Hank forget that? He’s normally eager to do a second sweep for survivors. They shook their head. Probably won’t happen again.

They yanked Deimos’s gun from him– briefly admiring the make, it looked well cared for– and started firing at the corpses with total abandon. 

Blood spurted from the bullet wounds, but not a soul cried out. A shame, really.

“There,” said Hank. For some reason, he didn’t feel the same satisfaction they usually did. Maybe something was weighing on their mind.

… Something like stars.

God damn it. There it is again. They’d been thinking about those damn things all week, and Deimos had been pestering him about it near-constantly through text. He’d hoped that this mission would get his mind off it, but alas, that appeared not to be the case.

“Yo, Nevada to Hank, you there?”

Hank stiffened, suddenly noticing that Deimos was waving his hand in front of them. Hank shoved Deimos, a bit irritated. “Next room. You.” He dropped the gun into Deimos’s arms and went to lean against the wall, much to the smaller man’s confusion.

Deimos stood silent, flabbergasted for a few moments. “Seriously?” he finally exclaimed. “Yer normally all over this, dude!”

A simple shrug was Hank’s response. He hoped Deimos would drop it and leave to check the rest of the facility. Hank just wanted to be alone with their thoughts, for once.

Deimos growled. “You better not be plannin’ on leavin’ the whole rest o’ the place t’ me!” He took a step towards Hank, teeth bared. Hank stared.

The two stood silently, glaring daggers at each other for a few minutes. The tension was thick. If it were a person, Hank would have a hard time cutting it.

Finally, Hank decided to make a move. They reckoned that if they didn’t, Deimos would just stand there forever. Probably start whining at them too.

Hank unsheathed a knife he kept in a case on his back– it was a huge hunting knife, almost as big as a particularly small sword. He held it up at Deimos threateningly. “Go clear.”

The threat was obvious– and Deimos was keenly aware that Hank wasn’t bluffing. With an angry grumble, Deimos left the room.

Leaving Hank alone to think.

He wondered if he ever made drawings of stars, when he was little. He knew he’d never be able to retrieve any drawings, if they existed– he couldn’t remember bringing anything but what he was wearing at the time when he left Nexus City. 

Maybe he could make some drawings later today, when he got home… but Deimos would question him if he brought paper with him into the car, and besides, he didn’t have any crayons. He’d probably break them anyway.

Briefly, he pondered if stars ever existed. Maybe they didn’t. Maybe it was just a myth parents told children to keep them from losing hope or something. 

They probably didn’t exist, actually. Hank growled to himself. This is so stupid. They got up and made their way outside.

The thought was still in the back of his mind though, and for a small moment, he considered looking upwards. Perhaps tonight, they’d see a sky full of stars.

What a stupid thought. They shook their head and walked to the car, getting in the passenger seat to wait for Deimos.

A tiny bright dot glittered overhead.

~ ~ ~

So, it turns out, leaving your partner to do all the work was not a good idea.

Hank could hear Deimos’s snarling and whining pretty clearly even through the walls. The guy was loud.

Doc had run out of anesthesia, so he was using booze to keep Deimos suppressed. It wasn’t working very well. 

Deimos had probably run through the group’s only supply of beer by now– and if he hadn’t, it was probably because Doc had given up on trying to get the guy to pass out.

The shouting made Hank cover his ears. God, this was the worst.

He tried to let his mind wander, wanting to distract himself from the annoying ruckus.

And what better thought to think of than stars?

Hank was convinced at this point that stars were cursing him. Hell, he couldn’t even look at the sky without swearing he saw something glimmer! 

But he’d take thoughts of stars over Deimos screaming any day.

Were stars really that tiny? Maybe they were, and they were just really bright. Sort of like how a lightbulb in a dark room can still be seen from far away.

Maybe they were really hot, too. Making light for so long makes heat– Hank knew that much. If they were hot, they’d probably warm up Nevada super hot every night. But that didn’t make sense… maybe stars were actually super far away. Maybe there weren’t that many. Maybe he should write this down so he doesn’t end up thinking about this tangent again…

Hank got up from the couch and went to Doc’s room, grabbing a notepad. He tore out all the pages that had writing on them and grabbed a pen.

wat i no abowt stars

brit

smal maybe

hot

He paused. Was that it? He quickly scribbled one more thing down.

sparkly

Yeah, this all sounded about right. They stuffed the notepad in their pocket and went back to the couch. The loud pained noises had died down a bit, so they didn’t feel the need to cover their ears. Hopefully Doc was almost done, and hopefully the impending lecture wouldn’t be too long.

About an hour later, Hank realized that he was napping. Oops. He sat up and stretched, then paused.

There was a blanket draped over them. They quirked their head. Did Doc do that? Probably. It wasn’t like Deimos would, after all.

Hank threw off the blanket and looked around. He was surprised Doc hadn’t woken them up for a stern talking-to. Maybe the guy was busy. Not like Hank cared. If anything, this was just a chance for Hank to leave. Maybe he should’ve done that when Doc was working on Deimos, but whatever.

When Hank left Doc’s place through the hatch on the living room ceiling, they couldn’t help but look up. This was pretty normal– Hank tended to look where they were going, which in this case, was up. What wasn’t normal was what they saw.

Tiny pinpricks of light flickered in and out of vision, twinkling like… 

Like stars.

There weren’t many in the sky, just ten or maybe twenty. But the way Hank was enraptured with them, you’d think the sky was full of them.

Hank just stood there, his head poking out of the open hatch, staring at the sky. He wondered if the stars were marveling at the earth, too.

With his hands shaking wildly, Hank crawled out of Doc’s bunker. They laid down on the ground, staring up at the stars. He wished so badly that he could smile.

The air around them was surprisingly cool. I guess stars aren’t that hot after all. Of course, they didn’t mind. 

It was hard to stay still, if their trembling hands was any indication. They wanted so badly to jump to their feet, to run around, to tear at something– but he felt like if he looked away, the stars wouldn’t be there when he looked back. He didn’t want to risk it.

Hank’s mind was racing– they really couldn’t help it. Here he was, laying under the stars… it was hard to believe. There were so many thoughts in his head. Is this a normal amount of stars? It’s so cool out– they must not make heat. I wonder how they light up… are they just so far away that I can’t feel the heat?

For a few minutes, he didn’t notice that the stars had begun to dim. But if there were twenty before, there must have been only fourteen now. I have to take a picture!

He took out his phone and quickly opened the camera. He stared. The stars didn’t look the same through the phone, but Hank didn’t want to waste time going to get an actual camera.

Click.

There it was. The stars, immortalized forever on Hank’s shitty phone.

Hank looked back at the sky, where only a few stars remained. They put down their phone and let his arms rest at his sides, watching as the stars faded into blackness.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi! I was looking for a fic that was like the "Leave the Light On" fanfic maybe?

I got so invested in the plot and the slowburn but I didn't check It wasn't finished and now I can't find something like It.

I love the idea that they already know each other in real life but don't know that they're almost dating in the phone/internet world, so something like It could work too.

Thank you so much for your hard work with this page, I love It 💜

Hello! There are quite a few fics like this, mostly AUs of She Loves Me and You've Got Mail. Here are the ones I found...

Will Wonders Ever Cease by sielu (G)

Aziraphale Fell, a parfumarie clerk, is in love.

She knows what her beloved likes, the way her beloved thinks and is absolutely sure they are perfect for each other, she hasn't just met them yet. They've been penpals, writing each others constantly, for over 8 months and tonight they will finally meet.

She just hopes whoever her Dear Friend is, they have a better attitude than the parfumarie's supervisor, Miss A. J. Crowley.

(She Loves Me AU. I just coulndn't not write it).

A superstore and the end of civilization as you know it by IntoTheMiddleDistance (T)

The Arrangement never happened, Aziraphale and Crowley went their separate ways. Aziraphale owns his bookshop in London and it doesn’t really matter that he never has any customers – until the big chain shop Eden Books moves in down the street, bringing Aziraphale’s old foe Crowley with it as manager. Crowley and Aziraphale clash face-to-face, but neither of them realizes they’ve been pen pals for the last 30 years – until Crowley puts it together and is faced with an important decision.

Also Gabriel is there occasionally to bother Aziraphale, and Beelzebub sometimes checks in on Crowley.

The You’ve Got Mail AU no one asked for.

i was so tempted (i wouldn't dare) by rubyknowbys (T)

It’s a message delivered to the wrong number that brought Antonia J. Crowley and Aziraphale Fell together and, even in anonymity, a friendship inevitably made something deeper flourish amongst shared texts. Antonia started working at Medium’s Bookshop, they finally scheduled a date, and Aziraphale was thrilled to know that she’s going to meet the owner of the irresistible words, which made her fall in love so quickly. But the bookshop supervisor didn’t imagine that their new employee, who she detested even more each day, is the same woman who has been sending her those anonymous darling messages all along.

And when she found out, the information created a new dilemma inside her mind, while her most powerful impulse became to try to win Antonia’s heart smoothly: should Aziraphale tell her?

Dim the Lights and Sing You Songs by Polaris (E)

A few months prior to leaving the Dowling household, Crowley had downloaded Grindr for the sole purpose of catfishing randy morons. He was not expecting a paragraph that began with: ‘hello. I hope you don’t think this is too forward, but I couldn’t help but notice you have the most lovely nipples.’

Crowley keeps trying to meet his Grindr fuckbuddy. Aziraphale keeps showing up at all his meeting spots. This is terrible.

He Loves Me by EveningStarcatcher (T)

Anton Crowley and Azarel Fell don't get along at work, but little do they know they've been falling in love through anonymous Lonely Hearts letters...

Loosely based on the musical She Loves Me

Phoning It In by wife27 (E)

Aziraphale enjoyed her day job immensely. Tadfield University was a small, but respectable school. Imparting a love of literature on her undergraduates was extremely rewarding, as was her restoration work that the university sponsored. That being said, she found her night job much more interesting.

- 

Aziraphale is an English professor by day and a sex line operator by night. While at the university, she has to contend with the insufferable Professor Crowley. At night, she enjoys the company of her clients, like the kind and exceeding romantic Toni. Maybe someday she’ll be able to meet her mystery woman in person.

The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It by indieninja92 (E)

After the Apocalypse, Aziraphale ventures into a new space in the gay milieu - Grindr. There he starts talking to a charming young man who certainly doesn't bear any resemblance at all to a certain long streak of demon, not one bit, no thank you.

Meanwhile, Aziraphale and Crowley navigate their friendship after the world failed to end. There is much drinking and silliness, but could it be that there are other feelings lurking underneath?? Of course there are, this is fanfic.

And the likely abandoned WIP you mentioned...

Leave the Light On by killerqueer & VentureTrain (E) (WIP)

The You've Got Mail But With Phone Sex AU that nobody asked for.

Azra's life is turned upside down when his partner of two years breaks up with him, seemingly out of nowhere, and kicks him out of their shared flat. Well, Gabriel's flat. Left to start over on his own, he ends up living above the bookshop and below his incredibly rude landlord, who seems to insist on having incredibly loud intercourse at all times of day.

Meanwhile, in a moment of loneliness, he finds himself doing something he has never considered, and calls a phone sex line. Oh, and he might just be falling in love with the operator.

- Mod D

[spaceagebachelormann]

hi i’m stealing this from @solutopia <3

she did colours! but i’m associating my moots with artists instead for funsies!

also i couldnt put all of y’all cause some of u i haven’t spoken to enough to have a proper opinion :( but if u wanna be in part 2 js start sending me asks and i’ll be able to quickly make observations abt u!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @juneberrie — LIZ!!! my silly pookie <3 ur so so silly and u make me feel like i can talk abt my interests without being judged or made fun of which is something my friends growing up didn’t give me, ilysm and ur artist is laufey

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @isitoversnowtvs — JAS!!! my wife <3 ur such a cutie and even if our music tastes are different i still thinks urs is really cool and unique and i love it and u sm ! ur artist is taylor swift

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @cannibalizedyke — MERE!!! my favourite frankenstein girlie <3 ur so bad at roblox /aff. but that’s okay cause ur really sweet and i love bothering u out of nowhere and u kinda remind me of lizzie hearts. ur artist is marina

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @renqiisnce — DAL!!! pookie bear ilysm. ur music taste is actually amazing and ur opinions are always so right. i’m mailing u peter criss. ur artist is kiss.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @cau-lee-flower215 — LEE!!! ajsjejendjsndn u always have the best and silliest thoughts and ur so cool and ily <3 it genuinely makes me so happy everytime we talk ur so creative! ur artist is elton john

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @lunarluvbot — CHERRY!!! ugh you /j. ur so silly and match my energy perfectly and ur so fun to talk to and u let me rant abt peter pevensie for hours at a time. ur artist is madonna

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @lunarfleur — MICK!!! i love u. ur such a nice and genuine person and so fun and interesting to talk to and i wish we were closer </3 but ilysm and ur artist is elvis presley

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @madwickedawesome — JUNO!!! my absolute favourite person to bother. ur so fucking funny and i love playing roblox with u and u shoukd dm me on discord more often. ur artist is mischa bachinski debussy.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @sluggmuffin SLUG!!! RAHHHH u have the best fulton thoughts (so does lee and mick) ajakaksjajsj. ur such a cutie patootie and we should become super bsfs do u have discord. ur artist is the beatles

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @solutopia — SOLANA!!! we dtm but ur so sweet and ur themes are always so gorgeous. ur such a beautiful person even if i don’t know what u look like and i have a lot of respect for u! ur artist is beabadoobee

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @presidentroarie — AUTUMN!!! my first mutual on tumblr! i love u sm and even when people don’t agree with u on sophitz ur so accepting of it and don’t judge them <3 i’m so glad we’re friends and i love u! ur artist is bob dylan

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @inkluvs — IVY!!! ur so pretty omg? and ur so sweet and ur fics and headcanons are amazing and even though we don’t talk a lot when we do it’s so silly and i’ll be giggling <3 ur artist is julie london!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @faerieroyal — DOLLY!!! the only person who understands my love for adam and mr hyde,, literally my older sibling figure. ur so sweet and supportive and i feel so comfortable around u!! ur artist is ella fitzgerald

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @orangelovesyou ORANGE!!! my favourite ricky artist <3 such a silly and kinda babies me a little but i don’t mind!! so nice and silly and fun to talk to <3 ur artist is lady gaga

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @homeofhyperfixations — PERSE!!! i havent talked to u in so long :( but ur so creative and so nice and i love hearing about ur ocs and their lore and love interests it’s so interesting <3 ur artist is alice in chains

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @luckynature — BELLA!!! ur so funny omg? we should talk more pookie <3 i barely know u but u remind me a lot of ocean for some reason? also tammy? idk why !! also ur artist is weezer

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @moonlarked — AUR!!! my favourite hamlet lover! all ur hamlet thoughts and opinions are always so right and cause of u i now actually understand a lot more of hamlet then i did before <3 ur artist is type o negative

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @shefollowedthestars — NOVA!!! guys nova is the sweetest person to walk this earth. everytime we talk i live in fear of someone hurting ur sweet soul in anyway because u absolutely don’t deserve that. i heavily associate u with calm vintage music so ur artist is skeeter davis

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @doyouknowwhoyouare13 — NYX!!! ur so funny ily! i kinda forgot all of our interactions cause my memory is absolute shit but i always start giggling when thinking of u cause i remember u being really funny <3 ur artist is falling in reverse

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @starstruckwillows — JESSIE!!! omg i also need to talk to u alot more? ur so cutie patootie! one of my most favourite moot writers on this app /srs. ur artist is beyoncé

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @janesociety — JANE!!! pookie u always have rlly pretty themes and i love it! ur also super super nice and amazing and fun to be around! ur artist is the smiths

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @herrscherofsentence — JADE!!! ur hyperfixations are so cool! and i love all of ur names sm and the asks u send me always make me start giggling to myself cause they’re so funny! ur artist is tv girl

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @larsgoingtomars — SOPHIE!!! i genuinely love ur shifting stories so so much. and i absolutely love talking about bowie with u and u make me feel like i can talk to u about anything without being judged which i adore! ur artist is metallica

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ @sp1rit-realm — HANNAH!!! i’m ngl i used to be scared to talk to u cause u seemed rlly cool,, but i’m glad i did cause that one james thought u sent me still has me twirling my hair over him. ur artist is guns n roses

[nagualdream]

chain mail by J. Bellar

[canadiannationalfox]

Murder Drones Drabble - Too Loud TW// Verbal Abuse and Self Harm

TW// beratement, verbal abuse, gaslighting, mild self harm, emotional distress, corporate jobs

Tessa sat at her repair desk in her bedroom, not chained up, but definitely locked in, and she was hungry because she missing out on mid morning smoko. The now 16 year old girl mulled over what had happened earlier.

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

It was a practice run for when Tessa would start working next year part time. She was sitting at the desk in the small office off of her father's, surrounded by branded pens and stationary. Opening the work e-mails, she noticed one regarding a bigger company hadn't been read yet, and she had been the one who assisted the last time with it. Tessa looked through the database and found the records and certificates needed for the subcontractor of JC Jensen and sent it off attached to a politely worded email that read:

'Dear Avery Johnson of Qlean Flow Solvents,

I hope this email finds you well, please note the documents attached as we had sent them prior. Hope this clears up any discrepancies, Sincerely,

Tessa James Elliott Office Assistant'

She was pleased with her work, noticing her father's voice from the next room over, she paid no mind until her desk phone rang. She didn't understand the need to use a landline sometimes, but, she still answered it. "JC Jensen, Elliott Office, Tessa speaking," she greeted in the corporate tone she had practiced with J for hours on.

The Aussie man on the other end, James Elliott himself, greeted over the phone, "No need to concern the email in regards to the Qlean Flow company, I handled it already with a phone call."

Tessa hesitated at first, but was kind of glad he didn't just walk in to tell her that, because he would've seen the nervousness on her face. "F-Father, I... I may have resent them the documents, but I worded the email politely and-" the ebony haired girl explained until she was interrupted.

"And why would you do that?" James Elliott remarked sharply, the Aussie man sighed in annoyance before Tessa could even talk, "Didn't you see that it was marked read?"

Tessa had opened the email when it was still unread, perhaps even at the same time as her father. "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, I must have opened it at the same time as you," the Elliott heiress apologized softly.

"What is it with your generation? All of you are daft dingoes. You don't build rapport with customers and business partners by 'emails and texts' you PHONE them."

Tessa tried to get in an apology but got interrupted.

"I mean, how would you feel if one of your drones didn't have the gall to tell you something important and sent you it through a text? Especially if it was something important," James rambled on and on over the phone, "It's like how people get divorces over text because they haven't pulled their head in. How disrespectful is that? And you SAW it was unread, right?" he was now starting to try to gaslight Tessa, not knowing the drone-adoring girl wouldn't be shaken that easily.

"N-no, I-I saw it was unread, I mean it, I'm sorry," she exclaimed in an apologetic tone, not realizing she was talking louder.

James lost his composure, even though this was his daughter, the only heir to his livelihood and someone he cared about when he had time to care or wasn't too busy or forgot, he yelled over the phone, "YOU DROP THAT TONE RIGHT NOW YOUNG LADY!"

Tessa dropped the phone, she out of instinct grabbed at her wrist and squeezed hard where it was already bruised. She hated herself so much in that moment, 'maybe the pain would teach her a lesson' she thought to herself as the man who had given her middle name shouted at her.

"WE BOTH KNOW HOW THIS WILL END, WITH ME TAKING IT OUT ON A LIBRARY DRONE AND YOU CRYING IN THE CORNER AS YOU WATCH, SO YOU BETTER NOT SHOUT AT ME ANYMORE!"

Tessa pleaded, her voice smaller now, just above a whisper as she picked the receiver up, "I-I promise... I w-w-wasn't yelling, s-sir... I... I was just afraid... I'm sorry, it won't happen again, I promise."

James responded sternly, but at least he wasn't yelling now, "I think you need to go take smoko in your room, come back when you are better behaved."

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

And Tessa remembered as soon as she went into her room, the doors had closed behind her and locked, she laughed to herself somberly and looked to the window, seeing the rain outside, she decided she would sneak out to the graveyard. If she wasn't wanted at 'work' then she'd at least go somewhere that she'd be able to forget everything for a while.

She grabbed her sewing scissors, the keys to the mausoleum, and a couple granola bars from the stash J had put under her bed to stuff into her messenger bag, before she unlocked her bedroom window, climbed out, and snuck along the garden's edge until she got below the willow tree. "I may as well make the best of this," she said to herself, heading through the archway to the graveyard.

The End

[anhed-nia]

BLOGTOBER 10/13-14/2023: THIRTEEN WOMEN, SVENGALI

I really loved this. I wonder what the book is like, I might have to read it! Author Tiffany Thayer sounds like a pretty interesting guy as per this collection of provocative reviews on Wikipedia:

I don't know about you, but that makes me want to read everything he wrote. THIRTEEN WOMEN concerns a circle of grownup sorority sisters who are beset by an anomalous series of murders and suicides. It so happens that all of the women recently received damning horoscopes in the mail from a self-styled New York Swami--but the Swami himself is just a pawn in a greater conspiracy masterminded by Ursula Georgi (Myrna Loy). The master hypnotist has a bone to pick with these smug society ladies, which I am about to spoil so plug your ears if you'd rather watch the movie first (and you should! It's only an hour long): As a half-Javanese girl "saved" by a missionary who sent her to a western finishing school, Ursula believed the key to her future was to pass for white. Therefore, she's vowed revenge on the racist sorority that rejected her in college, and honestly the revenge she has plotted should have earned her an honorary PhD. It's hard to imagine that either a 1930 novel or a 1932 movie really mean to say "fuck racism" so frankly, but the sharp premise and Myrna Loy's incredible charisma make it hard not to side with the ostensible villain in this picture.

Some people have remarked that THIRTEEN WOMEN is an early iteration of the slasher movie, with its female ensemble (of sorority babes no less) being picked off one by one. To me it was more reminiscent of the cursed media motif familiar to J-horror. Maybe I'm just saying this because I rewatched RINGU this Blogtober and I was encouraged by the documentarians behind THE J-HORROR VIRUS to consider its influence on SMILE, which I also rewatched, and which I'm realizing I love. The victims in THIRTEEN WOMEN have signed a round robin chain letter, for which they each receive a star chart describing their imminent doom; the power of suggestion takes the place of power tools here, with Ursula's sheer force of will acting as a free-floating contagion that rots the guilty and weak from the inside out. I was reminded of movies like RINGU and JU-ON as much as of Jorg Buttgereit's DER TODESKING, an experimental horror film about a chain letter that causes its recipients to self-destruct. It's fun to think that THIRTEEN WOMEN is a progenitor of movies like BLACK CHRISTMAS, but I see reflections of it elsewhere, too.

I wound up pairing this with SVENGALI just because they're both hypnosis movies, but that movie turned out to have its own racial tensions. In George du Maurier's foundational 1894 novel Trilby, the evil hypnotist is explicitly Jewish; in Archie Mayo's 1931 adaptation, Svengali is referred to abstractly as "Polish or something", which seems to be a euphemism for a Semitic Eastern European identity. This might not invite such analysis if it weren't for the styling of John Barrymore as a swarthy, rodent-like embodiment of greed. When I say that, it sounds pretty negative, but I'd still insist that SVENGALI is a great movie well worth seeing for its perverse humor, surprising grimness, expressionistic design (courtesy Anton Grot), and unusual horror elements--in addition to Barrymore's unforgettable performance.

I guess there has been some debate over whether SVENGALI is properly a horror movie, and I refer you to author Tony Burgess who once said that if you have to argue about whether or not something is a horror movie, then it's probably a horror movie. The only causes to argue are if you insist on an extremely narrow definition of horror to guide your personal consumer habits, or if you're squeamish about admitting that you've ever enjoyed or respected anything that falls under the horror umbrella (and I tend to think the latter case is more prevalent). Admittedly, SVENGALI blends comedy, romance, and musical elements such that the viewer is never quite sure how dark things will get until the very end, but I think that anyone should be able to see the horror in the incredible sequence of the eponymous villain sending his disembodied consciousness through the CALIGARI-like city to possess the unwitting Trilby (played by Marian Marsh who must have been the most adorable person alive at the time). A few different visual effects are used to evoke Svengali's power, some of which are still modern-looking and scary, and the film's breezy humor and charm do not promise any particular safety.

On some level, the aura of antisemitism and xenophobia itself lets us know we're in horrific territory. This is the genre of fears, rational and irrational, where we face whatever society perceives as threatening. Today we're in the midst of a lot of arguments about whether or not "separating the art from the artist" is ever appropriate, with full cancellation of the art AND artist positioned as the only alternative, but both of these options suggest that we must never have to face immorality, ambiguity, or ambivalence in art at all; we're forced to either avoid it or ignore it. This denies us the opportunity to understand what these darker emotions consist of, and understanding is the only way to defang them. Personally, I don't think it's any more helpful to condemn e.g. Dracula or the Wicked Witch of the West for their bigoted elements, than it is to simply pretend those things aren't there at all. SVENGALI provides us with a similar opportunity to confront antisocial phobias, with its troublingly caricaturesque villain and the unavoidable fascination one feels when his hypnotic gaze projects itself at us from the screen. Recommended viewing.

[antipathy-arsonist]

INTRO POST LETS GO

Hai! My name is judas / batty coolatta

Minor

Nsfw dni

DO NOT tag me in guilt trip or chain mail posts /srs i will hurt you

(a chain mail post is a post where you are threatening a consequence if you dont reblog. ex: "reblog this post or someone will break into your house")

if you feel pressured to reblog these i understand but please please please add the "tw reblog bait" tag

if u repeatedly tag me in these things i will block you! 🎉

#it wrote. <- is in theory my writing tag but all you'll find there is me wailing about hank j wimbleton. the essays i could write man...

HANK MADCOM ASKBLOG -> @killingandviolencefan2002

COME PLAY WITH ME!!!!

my artfight. smiles

strawpage

Interests

Madness combat!!!!! (hank my beloved)

Rainworld

fallout (mainly the show and new vegas)

The scp foundation

Halflife vr but the ai is self aware

junji ito

wwatt

saw

Final destination

Tw! This whole blog has alotta

Blood

Gore

Violence

Murder

Also if you really dont like bugs you can block the #bug club tag since im using it to gather bug references ^-^

Alt accounts!!

↑↑↑ oc blog

oc rp: @silly-guys-postin

@mag-agent-torture-posting

@tricky-posting

@burger-gil-posting

MY RP ACCOUNTS DO NOT BE ALARMED IF YOU GET RB'ED BY MY FUCKING CLOWN

Also my sona is a sheep if I'm called a goat again I will scream

[starqueen87]

Madam C.J. Walker was born Sarah Breedlove to former slaves, Owen and Minerva Breedlove in Delta, Louisiana on December 23, 1867. Breedlove became an orphan at age seven when her parents died. Three years later, ten-year-old Sarah and her sister moved across to river to Vicksburg, Mississippi to work as maids. By her fourteenth birthday, Sarah married Moses McWilliams of Vicksburg and three years later gave birth to her only daughter Lelia (who later changed her name to A’Lelia). Breedlove became a widow in 1887. She and her daughter moved to St. Louis to join her older brothers who were barbers. While in St. Louis she found work as a washer woman earning $1.50 per day. She also married her second husband, John Davis, in 1894. The marriage lasted nine years.

In 1905, Breedlove moved to Denver, Colorado where she sold hair care products for St. Louis businesswoman Annie Pope-Turnbo. It was in Denver that she married her third husband, newspaper sales agent Charles Joseph Walker. She also decided in Denver to found a business to manufacture and market her own hair treatment formula which she called Wonderful Hair Grower. Breedlove adopted a new professional name, Madam C.J. Walker, which she retained after her divorce from Charles Walker in 1912 and began to offer her products for sale through door-to-door agents called Madam C.J. Walker Hair Culturists. Walker also set up a training school for her sales personnel.

As the business expanded Walker relocated her operations to Indianapolis, then the largest inland shipping hub in the nation, to establish a factory for her line of beauty products. She also created a chain of beauty parlors in major cities in the United States, South America, and the Caribbean. Breedlove also set up a training school for beauticians in Pittsburgh and began to advertise and sell products by mail order.

By 1915, Madam C. J. Walker was by far the wealthiest African American woman in the nation. Walker was now invited to major gatherings of black leaders and shared the platform with notables such as Booker T. Washington and W.E.B. DuBois. Her personal triumph inspired other women and she was often invited to lecture on business and politics. During World War I the federal government enlisted her to persuade African Americans to support the war effort and to buy war bonds even as it placed her on a list of “Negro subversives” because of her advocacy on behalf of black soldiers who faced racial discrimination. Walker also spoke out on the social conditions affecting African Americans and devoted particular attention and money to the campaign to make lynching a federal crime. Walker also donated money and time to the NAACP, the National Association of Colored Women, the YMCA, and the YWCA and provided the largest contribution for saving the home of Frederick Douglass in Washington, D.C.

Madam C.J. Walker also lived lavishly in a country estate she called Villa Lewaro overlooking the Hudson River in Westchester County, New York. Her neighbors included Jay Gould and John D. Rockefeller. The home at Villa Lewaro, designed by the black architect, Vertner Woodson Tandy, also served as a conference center for summits of black leaders. On May 25, 1919, fifty-one-year-old Walker died at Villa Lewaro.

Source: Facebook

[instantartific]

I was joking about making a beta10 oc but now I kind of like the thought of it.

The thought of the original prototype that Neon brought in being so... so damaged, so hurt from the war that the bot never truly recovered from it. And it fought him tooth and nail when he tried restoring it, too; whatever prior identity it was given didn't take well to realizing it'd been "captured" and is now being "held hostage" when it needs to be out on the battlefield. The thought of it possibly growing aggressive at first and warning to use force (before again realizing it can't. That time is really J's doing.) And all of this because it doesn't recognize who J is, because:

You are not the man I am meant to command to. Where is he?

And it takes a while. It takes a good while for it to finally adjust to this new situation and its new chain of command as it seemed. (When it finally accepts that J and its former Captain were one in the same, or that J was a renowned Captain in and of itself, it would gladly offer to dismiss itself for such horrible behavior. J heavily refused, of course.)

And something about the thought of this original, this prototype, eventually being rehabilitated enough to help J around the mansion and monitor him as it is but never being able to accept that the war truly ended, no matter how many times J tells it. Something about the thought of J finding letters written to someone who's passed or was never alive to begin with or was a serial number all along. Near obsessive amounts of writing in the beginning that eventually die off to twice a year: an anniversary and a birthday. J helps it 'mail them' to an address that doesn't exist. In reality, he still has them.

The new 1010 end up being made / repurposed in lieu of it, essentially. It gets all the tweaking and upgrades as practice before it gets distributed to the rest. And they end up being far more "personable" than it will ever be, but it is still raw. It still knows everything they've forgotten.

If it's still functioning after all this time... it helps J around with more technical things behind the scenes. It monitors security. It even can work as a body double for one of the others, should an absolute emergency occur.

I don't know, man. Just the thought of the first bot J works with since his recovery never being able to be in their little cool sexy boyband or whatever because it still can't move past the war, the same way J himself can't.

But the difference is one of them was born, not made.

[moistmailman]

Elden Ring AU part 2

Ruby, glumly: I just don’t really know what to do honestly. I don’t think I’m that good at anything.

Pyrrha, optimistically: That’s nonesense. Everyone’s good at something. You just haven’t found it yet. It’s out there somewhere though. Trust me.

Ruby: How can you be so sure though? Seems like everyone else around here have their life written out already, and I’m lagging behind. Even my sister is a great warrior. Hell, you’re a great spearswoman even! I’m just....here, I guess.

Pyrrha, sheepishly: Would you believe that I wasn’t always the best spearswoman. Heck, when I came into the lands inbetween I was possibly more lost than you. I was a....wretched, if you would.

Ruby: What?

Pyrrha: Yeah, I’m serious. The only thing I had on me was a small club, and loin cloths to cover the bare minimum of my body.

Ruby, blushing:......g-go on.

Pyrrha: I had no idea I was going to be fond of spears really. It just happened. Picked it up from a soldier and found my calling. Just like how I know that you’ll find your calling too. Just give it time. *smiles*

Ruby, blushing: Y-Yeah yeah. B-but can you go on more about the loin cloths?

Pyrrha, confuses: Eh?

Ruby: H-how Much were you showing? W-was it like a swim suit? J-just curious, that is.

Pyrrha, awkwardly: Uhm....not really. A swim suit would’ve been more modest honestly. The loin cloths only covered the bare minimum as I said. If that, even.

Ruby: *practically salivating*

Pyrrha: I remember having to scroundel for runes in order to buy chain mail armor from a merchant. *scratches back of neck* A certain tree sentinel made that much harder for me.

Ruby: *imagine Pyrrha in nothing but a skimpy loin cloth*

Pyrrha:....are you okay? You’re face is kinda red now.

Ruby: Huh? O-oh Yeah. I-I’m fine. I j-just feel bad for you that is. I-it must tough to only wear that.

Pyrrha, awkwardly chuckling: Yeah, you can say that again. It wasn’t comfy either. My bottom loin cloth used to run up by behind a lot.

Ruby, now imagining that image:.......*faints*

Pyrrha, worries: RUBY!?

*LATER*

Pyrrha: *head in Blake’s lap*

Blake, fingers combing through the redhead’s hair:.......so I heard a story about you.

Pyrrha: You did?

Blake: Yes, indeed. Would it be rude of me to ask if you showing up in these lands in nothing but loin cloths is true of not?

Pyrrha: O-oh, t-that? Yeah. It was. I had a pretty hard time for a while....well, harder than usual that is.

Blake: That sounds horrible......can you go into more details though?

[clonemedickix]

My Fives, my love. 🥰 Again, an earlier work of the man I adore- one of the first where I could see the effect of the 3D shading, especially on the pauldrons.

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence / Adult content / NSFW / tasteful smut / under 18 DNI

Category: F/M

Fandoms: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien Game of Thrones (TV) Star Wars - All Media Types

Relationship: CT-7567 | Rex/Original Female | CT-5555 Fives x Original Female

Characters:

CT-7567 | Rex | CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo |CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives

Link to chapter on AO3

Excerpt:

Lara saw his shifting emotions, knowing she couldn’t fix it for him. Fives would have to sort them for himself. She turned, walked to the room across the hall from Echo’s, stepping over to the window to see the view herself. It faced the back of the property; it was on the opposite end of the house from her bedroom and so had basically the same view. Far away in the distance she could just see the herd of horses moving through the pastures to different grazing ground. She heard a noise behind and suddenly hands roughly turned her to face the other direction. Fives was right there, his face set with determination. He bent and kissed her, roughly, deeply. Lara recoiled the slightest bit; she hadn’t been prepared for this, for him to reach for her in this way.

Fives felt her surprise and stopped for a moment, his eyes focusing on hers; she saw his pupils constrict briefly to bring his vision back on point. He almost looked like he wanted to speak, to put some thoughts into words, but she saw him change his mind, his expression closing itself off. What he wanted to say wasn’t important, or necessary. He bent to kiss her again, pulling her towards himself deliberately, her body touching his. He was briefly worried that she was so passive, seemingly allowing him to do this but not reacting, but she suddenly engaged, kissing him back with a sudden fierceness that surprised him. The two of them stood there, holding each other tightly as if in a storm, mouths open as they made out, over a year’s worth of repressed physical need finally exerting itself powerfully, pushed to the surface by their shared grief.

Lara realized quickly Fives was no blushing virgin, he knew how to kiss a woman, and he knew what buttons to push to make her want more. He could sense her heat rising, see the skin of her neck and cheeks starting to flush with color. He suddenly broke off from her mouth, moving to kiss along the line of her jaw, down her neck, taking in the scent of her body as he got closer to her heavy mane of hair and shoulders. Lara gasped a little at his touch, suddenly pulling him to her even more tightly in a reflexive hug. She closed her eyes a little languidly, and then pulled back, to look in his eager brown eyes. Hers asked, are you sure about this, while his showed her only his need.

She felt his hands reach to her forearms, unsnapping the gauntlets’ securements and dropping them to the floor, then moving to carefully remove her bicep guards, sliding them over her elbows and sending them floorward to rest with their siblings. Lara let him do this; she repeated the gesture by removing his gauntlets and bicep armor, his pauldrons; then she undid the fastenings of his chest plate, lifting it over his head and off. As if from a distance, she laughed internally at the slightly ludicrous pile of plastic and plate metal building up around them as the armor came off. Fives was quick about getting the rest of her cuirass off, then carefully removed the chain mail shirt, the silvery feel of the rings sliding through his fingers like silk. He let the shirt slither to the floor, the sound of it dropping down on itself a quiet, smooth shushing like water over rocks. Fives reached out, touching her body through the thin undershirt she wore beneath the mail, seeing her ghostly outline in the gauzy material. Her skin was smooth, firm and yet at the same time, yielding and soft, the skin of a woman. His fingers traced over her sides, down her waist to the top of her hips, appreciating small lines that could only be felt; he wondered at what they were. He had touched a female body before; though he’d never done the entire deed, he’d gotten as close as he figured a man could.

Lara had him down to his blacks, all his armor, his belt with his Kama and holsters on the floor behind him. She’d unbuckled the belt and set it carefully on the floor, next to her swords. She could see his well muscled body outlined before her in the body glove; his rack of abs, the cut of his hips and his taught thighs. She tentatively reached out to touch him, using only the tips of her fingers; she traced a line from his shoulder, down his side, over his hip and nicely shaped butt, around his leg. She brought the hand back up slowly, placing it on his chest and then up to his collarbone as he leaned forward and pulled the gauzy undershirt up and over her head. He pushed her back to the bed behind her, forcing her to sit, and bent to help remove her boots. He’d seen it was a process to get them off just from living with her in the Dragon Cave, so he grabbed the heel and waited for her to help push from the top, sliding the tall riding boot off. He threw it behind him with an emphatic thunk and went for the other boot. Fives moved in to kiss her again, and she pulled him to her with a hand around his waist and back. He was no longer in the mood for patience, he wanted to push towards the goal line quickly, working her breeches down over her hips and shoving them with his feet toward the end of the bed. He ran his hand over her smooth, bare hip and butt, reaching down he pulled her leg up over his hip. He realized she was still wearing knee high socks and broke off to laughingly demand “How many layers of clothes do you wear?!”

Lara laughed back and reached down to thumb the socks off quickly, then reached back up and made to take off her sports bra, but Fives stopped her. “No, let me do that.” His eyes were eager, the pupils now dilated in excitement and a deep need. She sat up a little and raised her arms; he got his hands under the elastic of the bra’s lower band and pulled it up, over her arms and head carefully, paying attention to not snap her in the face with it. He carefully kept his eyes away from her breasts, until he’d disposed of the bra, and leaned forward to kiss her again, more slowly and tenderly this time. He moved his hand forward, longing to touch the newly uncovered flesh, and he felt her hand intercept his, grasping his fingers and pulling them to her breast in clear permission to touch her. She made sure to look into his eyes as he discovered her body; she knew he’d wondered about it since the day they’d met.

His fingers brushed the soft, tender skin, feeling the baby soft tissue. It was smooth and delicate, almost as silky as the fine skin of the horse when he’d touched it for the first time. Lara lay back on the bed, letting him take in the view of her body, her eyes inviting him to touch her, see her. Fives quickly saw what the lines were on her sides and abdomen, realizing she bore battle scars all over, mostly where the plate armor ended. He reached down and traced the lines with his fingertips, feeling the bumps and ridges, the intricate webbing of the intersections where scar met scar. His eyes flicked up to hers, sober for a moment. He knew her skills, had watched her fight and never seen a warrior like her before. None of the Jedi could match her, and really, even with all of the extensive training, Fives knew she was more or less playing with the clones; none of them would ever reach her level of ability. Even so, she had taken wounds in battle, and survived them. Lara was as hard wearing as her dragon, both veterans of battles he couldn’t even imagine.

“So many scars, Lara. How have you lived through all of these?” He looked at her, a little awed at her body.

“Fives, even if I had wanted to die - and some of those times, I did - I’m not allowed to until my task is ended or I am able to pass on my role to another.” She reached out and plucked the shirt of his blacks away from his skin, widening her eyes a little to make a point. “These need to come off. Just sayin.”

He laughed a little, a note of shyness in his voice. He quickly shucked his shirt off, dropping it over the side of the bed and then stood a little nervously. He had been naked before a woman, and he was nervous then too, though he knew he had a nice body. This woman, however, was his goddess. The woman he worshiped with his very soul. Even with all of the scars she had, her body was still perfectly shaped, well muscled and pleasing to touch. Would she like his, when finally revealed to her? He slowly thumbed his pants down over his hips, feeling his obvious erection pop out. He stood there long enough for her eyes to pass over his body, appreciating what she saw there.

Lara saw he had some bruising from his most recent mission and the heavy action he’d seen. She sat up and reached out to touch him, running her hands up his now naked legs, feeling the slightly bristly hair on his thighs. His muscles were cut, defined and taught as he held himself still. His buttocks were smooth and rounded, and firm. She pulled him to her, laying her cheek against the top of his thigh for a moment. She could feel the heat of him against her face, the pulse of his femoral artery beating regularly. He had a nice, woodsy musk to him and she inhaled his scent softly. She turned her head slightly, kissed the root of him gently, hearing him suddenly inhale sharply. Okay none of those Twi’leks at the bar had ever done THAT. She brought her hand up and cupped his balls in her hand softly, nuzzling his cock with her nose and mouth. She heard him moan deeply when she took him in her mouth, moving with a firm rhythm while holding his soft treasure bag in her hand. He put his hands on her head almost in supplication, but also because he felt like he might collapse and needed to hold onto something to save himself. She brought him close to the end and he stopped her with a firm hand on her shoulder, shaking his head. “Not yet. Please.”

He pushed her back on the bed and moved toward her feet, on his knees. He gently pulled her legs apart and started to kiss his way up from her ankles, moving his lips along the inner length. She heard him purring lightly as he rubbed the tip of his nose along the soft skin of her inner thigh, then she felt a light kiss, high up on the inside, near her center. He looked up over her abdomen, a mischievous little smirk on his face, his eyes dancing a little. He ran his hand along the other thigh, then placed it behind and under her butt. Lara kept her eye on him for a moment, wondering if he really had the gumption to do this, and then she rocked back in surprise at the gentle feel of his warm breath on her, the flick of his tongue. After a moment, she had no coherent thoughts at all. She heard the faintest chuckle from south of her as he took in the sounds she made, the way her body responded to him. After what seemed like a pleasant eternity, she felt him withdraw, and through eyes narrowed in pleasure she felt him cover her with his body. He leaned up and kissed her neck, her cheek, the edge of her jaw, working his way back to her mouth. As he moved his mouth to hers, she felt him press against her, and she reached down to help guide him in. Fives slid home, pulling away from her kiss with a gasp of surprise and overwhelming sensation. He looked at her, shock plain in his brown eyes.

Lara placed her hands on his broad chest and said “Just hold still for a second.” He looked like he was incapable of that at the moment, and she gave a little helpless snort and said “Or dont, just go. Go Fives!” She pulled him toward her with her hands on his hips, flexing hers to meet him, and she felt him suddenly give a little grunt like a man deciding to fling himself off a cliff, hoping there was someone to catch him at the bottom. She moved with him, watching as his eyes dilated suddenly and he pitched forward, seeking her lips to kiss her while he cried out in completion. Lara felt herself reach the end with him, both of them pressing their bodies to the other, riding the wave of pleasure together. Finished, they simply lay there, collapsed on each in exhaustion, arms and legs tangled together while he rested his head on her chest. Lara lazily ran her fingers through his hair, what little he had.

Eventually he rolled over onto his back next to her, one arm around her making little circles on her shoulder blade with his fingers. He wasn’t sure what one was supposed to say or do after such an experience, so he lay there thinking to himself, remembering the feel of her body, how it had felt to lose himself completely within her. How it had felt to experience her climax, himself. Lara was laying there, studying her hand laying on his chest; she seemed very far away in that moment. She could feel the beat of his strong heart beneath her palm, her hand placed over the point of maximal impulse, where the apex of the heart lay beneath the ribs. Such a strong heart, she thought to herself. She could imagine the kinetics and function of the muscular organ, picturing the flow of blood though the chambers. Blood flowing back from his body to the vena cava, into the right atrium, rushing through the tricuspid valve to the right ventricle, coursing through the pulmonary valve and into the lungs to receive oxygen like so many little train cars, then returning to the powerful left side of the heart, to enter the left atrium, ride through the mitral valve into the catapult of the left ventricle, to be ejected through the aortic valve to his powerful muscles and limbs. Over her many years helping in the medical fields of Earth, she had seen many hearts, of many sizes and shapes, some functioning better than others, some outright failing. It was amazing how something only roughly the size of a fist in an adult, or a strawberry in an infant, could be so continuously strong, so vital, and yet go silent and stop in the instant of a second. Lara’s mind briefly presented her the awful image of Fives’ powerful heart going silent, ceasing to beat, and she turned from it, horrified at the thought. Not this man. Not her Fives.

[gothsuguru]

KAIRO HIIIIIII!!!! HIIHIHIIIII!!!! HOW ARE YOU MY DEAR?? HAVE YOU BEEN EATING DRINKING SLEEPING?? I AM HERE TO THANK YOU FOR YOUR TAGS ON MY PRINCE!GOJO FICS YOU ARE TOO SWEET😭😭😭😭😭😭 I'M SOO SO GLAD YOU LIKED THEM THEY ARE MY PRECIOUS PRECIOUS BABIES I LOVE THEM SO MUCH AND I LOVE YOU<33333333 omfgg us both being scar lovers too eeehehehehe we're meant to be!!!

your words mean the world to me i need you to know that!!!!! i love you for all of the tags they made me smile so so big<33333333 knight!reader is the most important little character i love them a lot and i love hearing that others like them too!!!!!! WAHHHHH I LOVE YOU WE NEED TO KISS ASAPP. u gave me the final push to finish the next part too eehehehhe mwah mwah

ALSO WHAT THE FUCK HUNGER OF THE PINE BY ALT-J I USED TO LISTEN TO THEM ALL THE TIME I HAD FORGOTTEN ABOUT THEM I LOVE THAT FUCKING SONG THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BRINGING THEM BACK TO ME HOLY FUCK

- @softgirlgonehaywire

MICKEY MY BABY MY LOVE MY EVERYTHING <333

I JUST CLEANED AND AM GONNA GO OUT TO EAT SOON OMG I HOPE YOU’RE ALSO EATING DRINKING & SLEEPING WELL <3 AHHHHHHHHHH PLEASEEEEEEE YOUR PRINCE!GOJO FIC MADE ME BONKERS

I LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVED YOUR CHARACTERIZATIONS LIKE OMFG??????? THEY WERE BOTH SO FUN TO READ AND OMG YES OUR SCARRED!READERS……… MY BELOVEDS 🩷🩷🩷 i love anyone w a scar they’re just all my besties

YOU & I ARE SMOOCHING AS WE SPEAK :3 AND FR i literally loved your knight!reader so much I’M gonna be hyping them up ALWAYS <3 AND OMFJDJDJDJDJD I’M ALREADY SO FUCKING HYPED JUST THINKING ABOUT THE NEXT INSTALLMENT WHAT THE FUCK!:&:&/&:!:

“HUNGER OF THE PINE” IS SOOOOOOO KNIGHT!CODED I ALWAYS LISTEN TO IT ANYTIME I READ ANY KNIGHT!FIC <333 PLEASENDNDN I’M GLAD THEY FOUND THEIR WAY BACK TO YOUUUUU <333

“in my stomach, for my heart chain mail” … “your heart wears knight armor”… YUPPPPP this is soooooo mickey’s knight!coded i’m INSANE