#god i need to edit my pinned post now

[2000swootie]

"Its been a part of fandom for ages!" I don't care, shipping real life people and fandomizing them is creepy and has caused actual emotional damage to a lot of people who have been shipped with other irl people or have been fandomized. I don't care if AO3 is founded by RPF shippers or if some fanfic writing ive never heard of writes it; the moment you start making fanart/fanfic of real human beings is the moment antis start going "LOOK, LOOK SEE THEY'RE SUPPORTING GROSS FANFIC/FANART OF REAL LIFE PEOPLE, ITS NOT ALL JUST FICTION!!" and we lose the argument.

and again, if you're treating a human being with their own life and thoughts like another one of your blorbos, then you have a parasocial relationship with that person and you need to stop posting that shit. its not healthy, and not in the anti definition of 'unhealthy' either, but in the "this is objectively not good for your mental health" definition.

you can make fanart and other kinds of normal fancontent for a youtuber or actor you like, but don't ship them and for the love of god don't make nsfw fanworks of them, and if you really can't control the urge, keep it to yourself and don't post it online.

i mean dream's fandom (and a lot of mcyts tbh) is like a toxic hellpit purely because his fans treat him like hes a fictional character, and yeah i know dream says he doesn't mind but he's still letting like underage girls make slash fanfic of him and i dunno thats a little weird given hes a grown man.

i say all of this as a somebody who used to ship septiplier and rightfully felt bad about it when both of them went "yeah this is making us uncomfortable, we regret enabling our fans like that" btw.

if you're a minor and you're doing this then its like "ok youre just a dumb, possibly hormonal, kid. we've all been there" and i hope you grow out of it, but if you're an adult and you're still fandomizing real people then you gotta stop man. make some OCs to ship together, find some genshin characters or whatever to fill that void, find another real life consenting adult who you can love, something other than fandomize a human person whos like on this planet as we speak.

im gonna stop typing now bc its like almost six in the morning, but yeah tl;dr: dont fandomize real life people, chances are youre developing an unhealthy relationship with them and most people who find out theyre being fandomized really dont like it! just jack it to fictional characters like the rest of us lmao.

@ users on this site who want to be pro-nsfw and keep the internet from becoming a squeaky clean corporate hellscape: make peace with proshippers and profiction as a whole. I mean it, the internet will never be the pro-nsfw paradise you want it to be if you keep going "I'm for the internet being a weird place of creativity UNLESS you're one of those freaks that makes that kind of content"

[araneitela]

Me staring at test results: It makes so much sense for her, but if I don't specify or elaborate, then we end up with the fanon take. Ugh, how do I easily explain that if you look at the word 'sex' through a much more old-fashioned lens instead of the modern one, that you'll get a vastly different picture of it?

/takes angycat.png typing to my tags

[moongothic]

Here I was, thinking how I should get working on my silly little webcomic because I'm already behind schedule, only to realize

I have a convention coming up in early September

I don't nececarily need new merch for it (aside from prints) 'cause I have plenty of leftover shite, BUT

I did apply to three other conventions (Oct-Nov)

I don't know if I'll get into any of them, probably not, but if I do, I would rather go into those conventions with leftover merch from the next one rather than getting new shit for those conventions since those are gonna be the smaller ones

So if I want new shit then I actually need to get shit designed and ordered REALLY SOON so that I can have my shit on-time for September

So here I am, just. SCRAMBLING to get shit together fast, brain in absolute panic mode

[jaydove-writes]

Moving intro to pinned post so bio is less cluttered

~ he/him, cis, biromantic asexual, engaged to @starlightprincess98, (Planning to get married February 14th 2026) born July 12th 1997 (listed the year so I don't have to update my age every year) ****

Platonic soulmates: @aflairforthemelodramaticc and @translesbianfoxgirl

**** Formerly known as **** @princesssparkle42 **** @jaydovesworld **** Other blogs include **** @ask-skybluecmc, if you want to do some MLP OC RP **** @phoenix-of-grandeur, if you want to talk about your favorite games or mine (Though I also do that on main) **** @phiction-of-grandeur, if you want to talk about your stories or mine (Again I do that on main) **** @ask-the-felicity-crew, if you want to RP between your OCs and mine or ask me questions that I will answer as mine. The characters may or may not know they are fictional depending on when in the timeline you ask them.

****

@ask-simon-devlyn, same as the Felicity Crew, but centered around the captain, Simon Devlyn. On this blog Simon knows he's fictional.

**** I love talking to people and making new friends! I'm also creating my own story series called Starbourne. Wanna be friends in the gaming multiverse? Here are my Friend Codes:

****

Steam: 111892045

****

Nintendo Switch: SW-5163-5533-6136 ****

Musical Fandoms:

****

Chrono Trigger

****

Undertale

****

EPIC

**** Show Fandoms: **** MLP **** Steven Universe **** The Owl House **** Amphibia

**** The Ghost and Molly McGee **** Sailor Moon **** Cardcaptor Sakura

****

Spongebob Squarepants ****

More later

**** Game Fandoms: **** Any RPG that features Mario (Such as Super Mario RPG, the Paper Mario series, or the Mario and Luigi RPG series) **** Any indie game inspired by Paper Mario (Such as Bug Fables or Born of Bread) ****

Undertale and Deltarune ****

In Stars and Time

****

Kirby **** Zelda (mainly just watching other people play them) **** Pokemon (see Zelda) **** Might add more later **** Book Fandoms: **** Percy Jackson et al **** Amari **** Serafina **** Might add more later ****

Webcomic Fandoms

****

Homestuck

****

Down to Earth

***** Donation Links

****

Kofi

****

Patreon

****

PayPal

****

Book 1 of my series, Starbourne, is FREE!! For the other books please donate $6 per book to one of the aforementioned links. I'm planning on making this a series of 9, but currently working on book 2.

Doing one of those note things for motivation (or notivation because notes lol)

25 notes - I do the dishes and clean out the litter box (done, for now... But these are Sisyphean tasks)

50 notes - I clean up around the house (I did a little cleanup, might do more later)

100 notes - I do a little work on my book (it still needs editing before I can publish it and write the sequel, but I'll do some work on that when my PC stops crashing)

250 notes - I start working on book 2 (or work harder on editing book 1 if it still needs it)

500 notes - I participate in artfight (in the first July after it reaches this threshold. I doubt it'll get there by this month.)

1k notes - I start working on a video game in the Starbourne multiverse. A small one, like Undertale is to Deltarune. I'm calling it Saturn Robe which is an anagram for Starbourne, like Undertale is for Deltarune.

2.5k notes - I start working on my dream game, Starbourne. The one that's the reason I started writing in the first place. (If the small game isn't finished I work harder on that)

5k notes - I dedicate my time to taking care of myself/my partner/my family, and working on my dream game.

10k notes - I become a god in the Tumblrverse (this will not happen)

If you want to know more about Starbourne, check out my other blog @phiction-of-grandeur and my community for more details. My askbox is always open if you want to ask me something.

Here's the first book now:

And here's a newer version of the first book, with (hopefully) better writing. It's gonna be longer than the draft above.

Here's the book on AO3 as well ^^

[lieahsblog]

i’ve run out of smart words and metaphors, just please please help this father from gaza evacuate his son for treatment. the goal is $15k please help them reach this ASAP.

EDIT: UPDATED campaign link for Fadi has been posted so keep scrolling. I also posted the campaign link of razan(see pinned) who’s mother needs treatment. Razan’s campaign has fallen under the radar so please share and donate. Please scroll and read the whole post for the crucial info. thanks for sharing!

EDIT: CAN YOU ALL PLEASE AMPLIFY MY PINNED AS WELL!! PLEASE SHARE THIS POST BUT ALSO MY PINNED POST!!!!!!! ITS URGENT SO DONT IGNORE. DONT KNOW HOW MANY OTHER WAYS TO TELL YOU. RAZANS FAMILY STILL NEEDS TO GO TO EGYPT SO PLEASE SHARE MY PINNED AND DONATE!!!!! THERE NEEDS TO BE DONATIONS, REBLOGS ALONE CANT PAY FOR THEIR REGISTRATION TO LEAVE. DONATE PLEASE

edit: are u guys even reading the edits. AMPLIFY RAZANS CAMPAIGN. ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

UPDATE TO EVERYONE REBLOGGING: Fadi and his family have evacuated to egypt now. They still need to cover living expenses AND his medical expenses for his son so this is Fadi’s new campaign: https://www.gofundme.com/f/brain-surgery-of-a-sixyearold-child-due-atrophy?utm_campaign=p_cp+share-sheet&utm_medium=chat&utm_source=whatsApp

this is Fadi’s p@yp@l to help with their living expenses: https://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=GLVYEA82FPMX2

MORE URGENT INFO: I would like to add that another family needs your help. I’ve made several posts about Razan’s family(including her mother who needs treatment) and this campaign has fallen under the radar. their goal is $50k and they have not raised even half. we really need to pick up the slack, so i would like to please ask everyone to donate to razan’s campaign AND find a friend to match your donation!! one you have done so, please make your own post about razan’s campaign and share it with all your mutuals. we need this campaign to have so much more visibility so please join me in amplifying and #floodthedash4razan!! let’s work together and help razan and her family. give some love, support and donations towards razan’s campaign‼️‼️ I would like to direct everyone to please AMPLIFY and share Razan’s campaign(please also checked my pinned where you can see more about her campaign!!) i will also share her campaign in this post, again please show some support and amplify and donate to her:

Thank you all for sharing!

[woozisguitar]

buzzcut and hair bleached

pairing: vernon x reader (afab)

warnings: kissing, so so so much making out, grinding, tbh its straight up dry humping atp, swearing, suggestive??, so many taylor swift references lol, car sex is mentioned, I think thats all, either way MDNI

word count: 593 (sorry 😔) + 3 smau images at the end

a/n: so. ive never rlly kissed anyways or done anything mentioned so idk how accurate this stuff is, all I know is that vernon is hot as fuck heh. hope y'all like it and this is why I dont write smut its terrible sorry 😭😭😭😭

ps: credit to @/yoon_kth on twt for vernon pictures used in header.

you had just finished cooking when hansol texted you he was on his way back home and that he had a surprise for you. assuming it was another movie poster or limited edition figurine, you decided to not think about it much.  

you had just settled in on the couch with a book in hand as you waited for your boyfriend, when you heard the front door open. excited, you went up to greet him, but the sight rather left you baffled. there he was, your boyfriend, except all his hair was shaven. his new buzz cut adorned him, and you found it hilariously fitting how taylor swift’s “dress” was playing earlier.  

hansol blinked in surprise as you popped in front of him and gave you a sheepish, “surprise?”  

“what- when- how????” you asked, trying to wrap your head around your boyfriend’s new hairstyle and how attracted you were to it.  

“just today. i was tired of having to keep fixing them, changing color, long hair and makeup sessions. plus! the hair was super damaged, so you know, decided to just,” he made a small click sound, “shave it all off.” hansol waited a beat for your reaction before tentatively asking, “do you like it..?”  

you walked closer to him, now slowly feeling his freshly shaven head. “like it? god, hansol, you look so good you have no idea right now. i didn’t even know i was so much into buzz cuts,” you bit your lip barely making an attempt to conceal your need for him.

you’re not really sure what happened because one second you were reaching up to kiss hansol and the next he had you pinned against the wall in the hallway that led to your room. your lips moved against each other in a lustful haze, fighting each other for dominance. hansol grabbed the back of your thigh and pulled it around his waist, grinding harder against you. you bit his bottom lip trying to suppress a moan. your hand felt the back of his neck to his shoulder, slightly missing pulling his hair, but all your thoughts flew out of your head as hansol grinded harder against you and let out a deep groan, moving his lips faster. “hansol, room now,” you pulled back breathless and pulled him towards your room. you pushed him to your shared bed, straddling him and reconnecting your lips with the same force but this time, with you grinding on top of him this time. hansol’s hands moved to caress the back of your thigh to your waist, letting out soft hums and moans. you moved faster, trying to chase a high you knew only he could give you.  

“should i bleach my hair?” you said, slightly out of breath as your now very naked boyfriend chuckled, pulling you closer to his chest. he adjusted till you were both comfortable and looked down to meet your eyes. your hair messy, courtesy of your activities, eyes blown and still a little hazy, a slight sheen of sweat glistening in the glow of the bedside lamp, you looked so fucking beautiful that hansol thought he might just die under the weight of his feelings.  

“so you can post us with the caption, your buzz cut and my hair bleached?” hansol teased, making your cheeks warm up.  

“nooooo…” you dragged out, making him chuckle.  

“sure you don’t, my sweet little nerd,” hansol hummed, feeling content having you in his arms and letting the day’s exhaustion wash over you two, the soft hum of the air conditioner lulling you to sleep. 

a/n: sorry this website hates me it was supposed to go on earlier😔

[andhumanslovedstories]

I've been running this writing experiment lately to cut out phrases like "I felt" in my fiction writing. Like I was looking at a sentence in a draft that said, "he felt as if character's eyes were pinning him in place." And then I was like, "well, does he think that or is it true? As a result of this person watching him, he's froze. It's not like a thing, it is that thing."

Oh and "almost"! I'm always going, "He felt almost relieved that it hadn't happened." Well, did he feel better that it didn't happen or didn't he? Or "somewhat", I'm always going, "she felt somewhat perturbed."

And like none of that is wrong, to be clear. I don't know if it'd improve your writing, I don't even know if it'll improve my writing, but I use this sentence structure all the time so every viewpoint is from a voice that thinks about what it thinks, hedges its statements, and offers the same ability for wry little jokes formatted in the exact same way. And I have a lot of writing like that and I think (!) that they're good, but read as a whole, I'm like, "god, they all sound the same." Like there's one melody that I write songs to, so even with different lyrics, it's almost (!) the same song. Something I've been struggling with in regards to my writing and why I've felt so blocked is how boring I found writing my usual way. I'd read something and enjoy the individual parts of it, but then I'd step back and I didn't like the whole. And I got good at this enough at seeing that I didn't like it to do it in real time as I was writing, which as you can imagine didn't improve the process of writing because now I was bored AND dejected about being bored.

There's this sentence-level structure fact that I use unconsciously. A pattern I find easy is short sentence, short sentence, short sentence, long sentence. So I write that. "He [verbed]. He [verbed]. Then he [verbed]. As he [verbed] to his [consequence], he [verbed] that [noun] was [statement of condition]." Which could work, it often does make for a nice rhythm, but it's something I reach for often because it's easier for me.

Just last sentence, I originally typed, "I find it easier for me." But if what I mean is "using this pattern is less effort than another pattern," then it's easier for me. One voice is hedging its bets and the other asserting. Either is fine! But they're different! And, again, GOD you would not believe how many words I've cut out of this paragraph as I write it. I'm so chatty. I love using twelve words when six will do. And that gives my writing a specific tone to my ear.

So if I am bored of that tone, why not try using just the six words? Why be understated? Why be afraid of stronger opinions? So right now with my fiction, I'm experimenting with cutting out as many self-reflective words as I can. Sometime you do need to draw attention to the face that this is the character's interpretation, but like you definitely don't need to do it as much as I naturally want to do it. You don't need to always go out of your way to allow the possibility that the narrative voice is wrong. During editing, I trim the weaker ones (I originally typed, "what I consider the weaker ones" Is that more accurate?). But I think them being there in the first place shifts my language which shifts my character's which shifts my plot. It's sentence structure all the way down!!

(this barely applies to my writing on here, btw. i try to do good but yknow this is a tumblr blog. i'm not trying to get a lit mag to accept it.)

Anyway blah blah (chatty!) the point is I've been trying to write in a way opposite of my interests. Something that doesn't take itself too seriously, that emphasizes EMOTION and ACTION instead of minimizing it, and that clips through scenes at a good pace. Doing this been amazingly fun. I've been having such a good time doing it. I am writing so much because I really enjoy doing it. The process of writing is so fun again.

This post is about two things. One is my new mood stabilizer and therapy day camp. The other is about the benefit of pretending to be MXTX.

[meowpupp]

could you write hybrid!soap unintentionally being really rough with reader coz he’s so horny please :)

link to og post

tw://dry humping, mentions of denial, "just the tip" trope, hybrid smut, overstim, manhandling, bad editing (by now its my brand)

pup!johnny, who's pent up. his cock aches and throbs from being edged and denied so often, craving the soft, tight walls of your cunt.

it's agonising, the constant dull throb and ache. his skin is sensitive and hot, even just putting a hand on his shoulder makes his dick hard. he can't help it, flushed tip leaking thick drops of pre, staining his boxers as he tries not to moan.

he spends hours rutting against whatever he can find. pillows, blankets, simons boot. but his owner never lets him cum, pushing johnny off the second he gets close.

it's only a matter of time before he snaps. he tried, he did, but the sight of you in those little pj shorts was too much. he has you pinned on the mattress within an instant, growling into your ear.

big, calloused hands force your thighs apart. he cant help himself, rutting his hips against yours, panting into your neck. the friction makes his head spin, cock throbbing in his boxers, almost on the verge of cumming already.

he sounds frantic, a little pathetic as he whines in your ear, begging you like a good boy for just a taste of your pretty cunt.

"m sorry pup, just- fuck, need you s'bad. just be good for me, yeah? be good f'me like you are f'price. I'll make you feel s'good I swear, please, fuckin need you."

his hands reach down, gripping your body a little too tight as he rips away your shorts. the poor pup whimpers loudly, fearing any moment someone will force him away from you.

johnny practically goes feral at the little wet spot on your panties, whines only getting needier and more desperate. his hands shake, dick painfully hard as he pulls it out from his boxers. the tip is an angry red, and he's leaking so much pre he's practically cumming.

"please baby, just the tip, I'll jus' put in the tip." his hips thrust forward, spreading your pretty cunt around him, the friction from your panties making his head spin, "fuck, please puppy, need your cunt, just the tip, i promise."

he almost cums then and there when you agree. he's too lost in his haze to even think, leaving you to reach down, pull your panties aside, and line his tip up. he groans into your neck, body shuddering as he finally gets what he wants.

he tries to stay good on his promise, at first only thrusting the tip. but you just feel so good, gummy walls stretching around him, cunt wet and hot, your little whines and moans making him shudder.

it takes less than a minute for him to break. he forces his whole length into you, his dick stretching you to your limits. his hips bruise your ass with each thrust, nails digging into the fat of your thighs. he can't shut up, speaking so fast you can barely tell what he's saying.

"fuckin hell, god, you feel s'good. such a good girl, my pretty pup. you were made for me, yeah? little cunt sucking in my cock like that, fuck."

it takes less than 5 minutes for him to cum. he holds you down, forcing you flat to the mattress. he buries himself as deep as possible, stuffing your sore cunt full.

but johnny doesn't stop, cock still rock hard. he pulls out, hands gripping your waist as he flips you over. a hand tangles in your hair, the other gripping your ass. within seconds he's buried deep again, each harsh thrust pushing his last load.

he ignores all your pretty whines, body squirming as you almost start to cry. your poor cunt hurts, bullied ruthlessly by him. he shoves your face into the pillows letting out a deep growl as he leans over you.

"told you bonnie, be good. just let me use your little cunt," he presses down, forcing you to arch his back. he fucks you deeper with the new angle, smirking as you gasp, "there ya go, feels good yeah? fuckin hell, bon."

[jujutsubaby]

🍒 only fans boyfriend!toji headcanons 🍒

☆ pairing: toji fushiguro x afab!reader ☆ summary: blurb in which toji is your bf who helps you take your photos and videos for your onlyfans ☆ warnings: 18+ !! MINORS DNI !! dirty talking, nudes, sex work, penetrative sex, idk what else lol ☆ a/n: i'm having some serious toji brain rot send help

bf!toji who first thinks of the idea of you doing an only fans after taking his millionth video of him pounding into you. he won’t lie, initially it was because he was tight on some cash and didn’t wanna borrow from you again, but he was convinced you could be some insane OF celebrity. “i’m not sure about it, toji. i don’t want randos to see my face…” you surmise. “c’mon, we’ll cover your face, doll, if that’s what you’re worried about. i swear, we could be raking in thousands from this.” the prospect of coming across a large amount of money like that was enticing…

bf!toji who suggests that you start out simple. “maybe just a shot of you wearing somethin’ cute for the camera, i dunno.” after work one day, you both go to a lingerie store and pick out a sheer pink babydoll slip on, with silky bows on the shoulders. at home, you fish out an old mid 2000s digital camera from the garage and present it to toji. “you’re gonna be my sexy photographer, right?” you tease, as you change into the babydoll slip dress. 

bf!toji who totally sucks at taking photos at first, but is a quick learner as he learns all your best angles and poses. turns out when money is on the line, he’s a hard worker after all. pictures of you sluttily sticking out your tongue, and the dress straps falling off your shoulders send toji into a frenzy, and you both take a quick sex break before going back to taking the photos.

bf!toji doesn’t know how to edit photos for shit so you use the minimal photoshop you know to spruce up your makeshift boudoir shoot. not to toot your own horn, but you kinda ate those pics up, and toji can’t get enough of it. at work, he’s partially distracted, fighting off enemies with half a brain as the other half is trying not to get turned on (one time, he did get turned on while fighting and it was awkward to say the least. the guy’s dead now so toji doesn’t really care). 

bf!toji who creates the OF account for you because you’re feeling too shy to do so. the interface is confusing for both of you at first, but you guys get the hang of it pretty easily. you post the boudoir photoshoot and immediately close the laptop because you’re terrified of it flopping. “the damage of no one subscribing to me, toji, i would die,” you say earnestly, feeling nauseous. “if no one subscribes to you, i’ll fuck the memory out of you, don’t worry,” he says nonchalantly as he picks a random show on netflix to watch. he’s not bothered by this even one bit and you think it’s because he doesn’t care but really, it’s because he’s that confident.

bf!toji who wakes up before you the next morning for work and quickly checks to see if your photos gained any traction. “holy shit, doll, wake up!” he practically pushes you off the bed as he shakes you and you groggily wake up, irked at the intrusion of your slumber. “toji, i swear to god i’ll kill y-” “you just got 300 subscribers overnight, shut up.” he says, cutting you off and meeting your lips with a tender kiss. you quickly pull back, eyes widening at the news. 

bf!toji who reassures you that you’re only gonna blow up more, and that’s why you need to post more photos and videos. it starts off small: simple photoshoots and more slutty lingerie. you arch your back as toji gets an ass shot with your camera. he slaps it hard, leaving a red handprint mark and snaps a couple more photos. 

bf!toji who encourages you to start doing videos after reaching over 1k subscribers. you do a little strip tease/dance while toji films, but the first time you do it, toji folds almost immediately and has you pinned under him. you try again the next day, and graduate to longer more explicit videos – fingering yourself, using toys, and live streaming. toji buys you a couple cute masquerade masks to use, too. 

bf!toji who loves it when you get donations during streams. he ends up creating an amazon wishlist for you of things you guys could really use around the house. he can’t remember the last time he bought you lingerie anymore because your donations would usually cover that cost. that being said, he always chooses lingerie for you. he knows exactly what other horny guys are looking for on girls. “doll, i know crotchless panties are awful but i know the male gaze – they don’t give a fuck. look, okay, i’ll buy you that one piece too, don’t give me that look.” he says to you as you throw in a bunch of lingerie of your liking in the cart. 

bf!toji who finally decides to join you in front of the camera, giving your fans what they wanted. the way he sees it, he fucks you senseless for free every night anyway, might as well get paid for it. toji makes a show to tear your nice lingerie off you and leaves visible marks in your skin from his touch as he pounds into you or bites your neck. 

bf!toji who joins you on your livestreams, and they usually end with you bent over a desk, skirt hiked up, and his arousal deep inside you. “you guys think she deserves to cum?” he asks the chat, feeling you clench against him. he knows you're close, and it turns you on knowing it’s out of your control on whether or not you get to feel a release. your fans love your pornographic and lewd moans, but with toji fucking you, you don’t even have to act for them to come out of your mouth naturally. speaking of your mouth, toji especially loves when you have a masquerade mask on while he makes your little throat gag. you love it when he tests your gag reflex on camera in front of an audience, and everyone can tell when they see you soaked through your panties.

bf!toji who surprises you by taking you on a lavish vacation to bora bora when you reach over 10k subscribers. “we built this shit together,” he says, talking about your OF fame and money. you can’t remember the last time you guys worried about paying rent, and he wanted to do something special for his slutty little doll. he got one of those seaside huts surrounded by a private deck. your breath is taken away by the surprise, and toji wastes no time getting all your clothes off and getting you into the water. the makeout session turns into him fingering you underwater as he pushes your bikini to the side. after coming all over his fingers, you give him a handjob under the water, and toji has to quickly climb out of the pool so he doesn’t cum inside it and has to request a clean up on the very first day. 

bf!toji who fucks you more times than you can count in the water, on the bed, in the infinity pool, that one time super discretely under the blanket in the beach. you bring up the idea of filming a little here and there on vacation. “what? the grind never stops,” you say jokingly as you set up the camera on the tripod in front of the bed. he surprises you by using some silk ribbons to tie your hands back while he licks and kisses every inch of your body, focusing especially on your sensitive nipples erect for the camera. he blindfolds you, hands still tied back while he eats you out. the electrifying sensations are amplified in the darkness of the blindfold, and you make an absolute mess on the sheets and his mouth. 

bf!toji who uses the last night of your trip there to convince you to film one more video, this time on the private infinity pool outside your hut. you come out with a black strappy bikini with a sheer babydoll cover up. “don’t take off your clothes just yet, doll. just come in the water.” he commands, and you slowly get into the water. his silhouette looks ethereal in the golden hour of the sunset as you approach him. he cradles your jaw and kisses you deeply and passionately.  

bf!toji pulls away from you and guides you to the edge of the pool that stares out to the pink sunset and the turquoise ocean. “what? gonna fuck me while looking at the sunset like a stupid romantic?” you jeer, poking his chest. he chuckles nervously. “eventually…”

bf!toji who pulls a small black box from behind him and opens it to reveal a big shiny diamond ring. tears start freely falling down your cheeks and you don’t even hear what toji is saying (you feel a little bad – he must’ve prepped this speech for a while but you were far too emotional to process anything). all you do is nod your head vigorously as he gently puts the ring on finger. a perfect fit. and it glistens just perfectly in the dimming sun.

fiance!toji who then fucks you into the sunset like a stupid romantic.

[daryltwdixon]

The Ruins of Us: Chapter 1

Summary: You’re deep in the woods, hungry and focused on survival, when a familiar face from your past appears, gruff as ever, crossbow in hand. After an uneasy reunion, he lets you follow him back to his camp. Memories of shared moments—summer days by the lake and clumsy hunting lessons—surface as you fall into step behind him, feeling a hint of the ease you once had. 

Notes: If you're rereading, you might notice some changes in the passages, dialogue, etc. I was posting my first draft and have learned a lot since then! So now I'm just going back and editing where I see fit :) enjoy!!

There was nothing quite like the feeling of true hunger.

Your stomach growls and you feel like your intestines are being squeezed by a phantom hand in your gut. You’ve gotten used to the sound by now, and it does nothing to distract you from the snare you’re putting together. Soon . God, it had been a long time since you last thought about the scarcity of food and water. At least you learned how to somewhat fend for yourself in the wilderness growing up. Not that you had the same supplies you’d typically have for camping like this. If only you’d thought to grab actual necessities when you left your apartment the day the world ended. But no, you didn’t think you’d be in the middle of the Georgia heat, deep in the woods, surviving off canned stolen food from houses and the rodents you could catch in tiny snares. You thought maybe by now you’d find a group. But your family was gone by now, probably dead knowing your drunk mother. You hadn’t seen anyone that day, just bolted with a backpack into the woods when you were caught in the never ending traffic on interstate 85. You tried to go home, you really did. To see if anyone was still there that needed you. To make sure your friends were alive. But the bombing in the city and the dead crawling the streets made you have to make a very quick decision that day. So here you are. In the woods. Alone. Stomach growling and tying a snare for what you hope will be a nice rabbit for dinner.

A snap of a twig nearby makes your head jerk up and out of your mindless thoughts. You’re under just enough cover to be hidden by the figure lurking through the woods quietly. But you sigh in relief as its hooves come into sight and you see it's just a deer. As much as it’s a relief to see an animal, you can't help but feel a twinge of annoyance that you wish you could at least hunt the damn thing. The only weapon you have is the stupid kitchen knife you stole from the house you raided a few days ago. You’d finished off the can of corn kernels immediately and out of excitement slashed your hand on the lid when trying to pry it open. Just the reminder makes your hand hurt and you look down at the nastily bandaged thing. You had used your own shirt to wrap it and god knows how long it’s been since that was cleaned. Looking back up at the deer peacefully grazing, your stomach churns. Not sure if it’s from the gruesome look of your hand or out of pure hunger. What you wouldn’t do for a good ol’ gun at the moment. But you also know a gun wouldn’t do you any good when you were alone in the woods. The dead could be anywhere, and even though the sound would bounce off the canyons surrounding the valley you traveled up into, anything close by would know where it came from. You continue tying the snare in your hands, cursing under your breath when the shoelace you have breaks apart in your hands. But then you and the deer snap your heads up suddenly at the sound of snarling coming from your left. You see the dead corpse making its way lazily into the clearing, tripping over its own feet. You glance between the it and the deer, wondering why the deer hasn’t made any move to leave. 

Go , you urge in your head, go before it’s too late. 

The deer is frozen in place, ears pinned forward, tail still as it stares down the corpse coming in closer. 

Come on , you urge louder inwardly, balling your fists up. You’re still well hidden in the brush for the dead guy to see you and you feel for this poor deer. But if you were to get up and scare the deer into running, you’d be seen by the corpse. If you went after the corpse, your potential meal would leave. Not that you even have the confidence you’d ever catch the thing let alone be able to kill it. 

The dead guy is a foot from the deer and your mind is made up in an instant. You stand suddenly, raising your knife and making the lunge for the biting dead thing. As you shove yourself towards it however, something comes flying through the air, grazing your cheek. You fall to the side, and the deer makes a break for it. The biter (yes, you've just now decided on this nickname for it) is on the ground, motionless with an arrow in the side of its head.

“Dammit!” Comes a gruff voice in the woods. You turn and heave yourself onto your palms as you sit back on the grass, holding your knees up to protect yourself while on the ground. You’re working on getting yourself up when a man comes out of the brush with a crossbow in hand. 

“I’ve been trackin’ that damn deer fer miles,” he snaps, “what’ja do that for?” he swings his arms in annoyance, including the one with a loaded crossbow. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest and feels like it’s in your throat after the adrenaline rush you just had. He grabs the arrow that’s sticking out of the biter’s head and puts it back in his bow. You hold your breath. You recognize the light brown hair and his gravely, angry voice. You just can’t be sure, you don’t want to get your hopes up. For now, you’re quiet, waiting for his next move. While knowing damn well he’s going to point that crossbow at you next.

Sure enough, when he’s satisfied his arrows are back in place, he turns abruptly on you with it held up at you. You manage a gasp when you get a flash of his face before the crossbow is shielding the rest. He hesitates, and lowers the crossbow from its aim on you. 

Daryl Dixon is staring you down in the clearing.

“What the–” he starts, and you’re lost for words yourself.

“I–I” you stutter, your breath finally coming back to you in gulps. Daryl stomps over and reaches his arm out, grabbing under your upper arm to hoist you up. He releases you once you’re on your feet and backs up a few steps.

“Y/N?” he whispers. 

x Flashback x

“Daryl, what the hell!” you exclaim, but your voice is high and you're laughing as he pulls up to your house. He’s got a shit eating grin on his face, in a junked up old truck, hanging his arm out of the driver’s side door. 

“C’mon” he waves, “Merle’s finally out of the house and we can go out to the lake” he reaches behind him “and I’ve got the goods” he shakes a bottle of vodka out the window to show you. 

You’re running up to the old dingy thing, hands in the passenger seat window that’s rolled down.

“Where the hell did you get this?” You squint up at the ceiling, noticing the torn fabric and faint cigarette burns, the floor littered with crumpled wrappers and old butts. But Daryl is still grinning like an idiot at you.

“Merle left it at the house after he took it from some guy yesterday. Get in!” he reaches over, opening the passenger door for you. 

You slide into the seat without hesitation, the warm leather sticking to your thighs as you slam the door shut. Daryl immediately reverses, throwing you a daring glance as he swings the truck onto the streets of Atlanta. The wind whips through the open windows, carrying your laughter into the muggy summer air.

When you arrive, Daryl pulls up to a dirt patch, tires crunching over gravel. You hop out, clutching the bottle of Tito’s, and head toward the water. Daryl’s close behind, cigarette pack and lighter in hand. You take a swig straight from the bottle, savoring the sharp burn before handing it to him. Just as he grabs it, you start peeling off your shirt, then your worn jean shorts. You glance at him, and his eyes are on you as he purses his lips on the bottle. You retreat to the water in your underwear and bra, eager to finally cool off from the summer heat. You just barely get a glimpse of Daryl shaking his head while he strips down to his boxers and follows you in. 

Hours slip by as you splash around, laughing, and tossing back swigs of vodka between lazy swims and shared cigarettes. The buzz settles over you like a warm haze, wrapping you in that carefree summer feeling. Eventually, you both drift to the shore, spreading your clothes out as makeshift pillows, staring up at the trees, watching as the sun filters through the leaves.

“Got any summer internships lined up?” you ask him, your arm laying across your forehead to shade your eyes as you take in the glimmering sun between the leaves above.

“Pfft” he quietly scoffs, “yeah, right. Merle’d never let me hear the end of that one”

You glance over, taking in his profile—the sharp line of his jaw, the scruff just starting to come in around his chin. There’s something different about him, something rougher, older. His eyes were narrowed, brows furrowed together. It’s crazy that you’d known him and his older brother since you were just kids, and that you’ve watched each other grow up into…adults? You were both just barely 18 now.

After a long silence, he speaks again, his voice low and thoughtful. “We should jus’ get outta here.” His gaze is fixed upward, his tone serious in a way that makes you pause. He takes another drag of his cigarette, then glances over, his eyes searching yours for something.

“Where would we go?” you tease, turning to face him fully, head propped up on one hand. You try to keep it light, but there’s a flicker of curiosity, of temptation. Could he really be serious?

“Dunno,” he mutters, looking away, almost embarrassed. “California…or New York. Anywhere but here.” His voice is quiet, almost wistful, like he’s daring to imagine something bigger than the life he’s always known.

“But wouldn’t you miss dear old bro?” You smirk, rolling onto your stomach, close enough now that your arms are touching. He gives you a sidelong glance, a faint smirk pulling at his lips.

“Merle’d barely know I was gone”

“Now we both know that’s not true,” you say, poking his arm playfully. “That man would hunt you down to the ends of the earth if you just up and left.” You laugh, but there’s a pang of truth beneath it; you know as well as Daryl does that he’s bound to his brother, whether he wants to be or not.

He rolls his eyes, flicking your arm in return. “You’re dumb,” he mumbles, still watching you, a hint of something unreadable in his gaze.

“But you love me,” you tease, grinning at him. But then, just for a moment, his expression shifts, something flickering in his eyes that catches you off guard. It’s a look that makes your heart skip, a heavy silence falling over you as you both just…look at each other. Your smirk fades as you get lost in the deep blue of his gaze, his presence so close it feels like the world narrows to just the two of you, lying by the lake, skin warm from the sun, fingers just barely brushing

The moment lingers, thick with something unspoken. Your heart beats faster, a flush creeping into your cheeks, and you don’t know if it’s the vodka or the way his eyes keep holding yours. But then, suddenly, the spell breaks—the buzz of your phone shatters the silence. You snap back, fumbling for it, glancing down to see ten missed calls from your boyfriend.

"Shit," you mutter, the blue of the screen casting against your features.

“Jesus, Y/N, what does the prick want now?”

“I gotta go.” You feel a pang of guilt as you scramble to your feet, pulling your shirt over your head, barely able to meet his eyes. There’s disappointment in his face, though he quickly masks it, leaning back with that blank, almost indifferent look he’s perfected over the years.

He doesn’t say a word as you head back to the truck, but you can feel the weight of his gaze, a quiet understanding passing between you that neither of you knows how to put into words.

x flash forward x

“I left GSU when everything went to shit,” you reply, brushing off your jeans and glancing up at Daryl. “Been out here for weeks. What about you? How’d you end up alone out here?”

“I ain’t alone,” he mutters, adjusting the rope of squirrels draped over his shoulder.

You pause, meeting his eyes. “…Merle?”

He nods, and you exhale in relief. Merle was an asshole—an especially stupid one. But you knew how much he meant to Daryl, and growing up with him had made him feel like a rough, reluctant older brother to you too.

“Where are you guys camped out?” you ask, scanning the tree line.

“Couple miles from here,” he says, not quite looking at you.

He’s so quiet, answering only what you ask. It’s strange; you and Daryl always used to be at ease with each other. Even though GSU wasn’t far, it had been ages since you’d seen him, not since…you shake off the memory, not wanting to ruin the moment. Whatever went down back then didn’t matter now. You’re just glad to see him here, hoping the end of the world might be enough for both of you to move on.

“Do you…” you’re trying to read his anguished expression, “Can I come with you? What’s up?”

He lets out a sigh, shaking his head, “Yeah, yeah, ‘course you can. C’mon” he turns and walks away, kicking the biter as he passes. It’s a long, quiet walk back with Daryl. You trail behind him, head buzzing with questions. Where was he when things went bad? Was Merle with him the whole time? You were grateful to know their pops wouldn’t be with them now. Daryl’s dad had always been mean and angry, taking it out on his boys—and sometimes even on you. And his mom…she was like yours, hooked on the bottle, though she’d died years ago.

Suddenly, Daryl stops, and you stumble forward, bumping into his back. The squirrels brush your arm, making you pull away instinctively. He glances back with a smirk, jerking his head forward—the deer, the same one from the clearing, about twenty feet away, stands still in the clearing. Daryl raises his crossbow silently, and you reach for your kitchen knife, feeling his eyes on you as you do.

“It was the only thing I could grab,” you whisper with a shrug, catching the small grin on his face.

He just shakes his head, still smiling, as he moves forward with the quiet, practiced steps of a tracker. He’d tried teaching you once, back when things were simpler. You’d been clumsy at first, but you’d learned quick, picking up his tricks until you almost matched his silence.

x flashback x

“Shhh!” Daryl hisses from behind you. You’re making your way through the woods, rifle in hand, with Daryl’s crossbow at the ready. He’s pointing out tracks in the dirt, but you just stepped on a rock, sliding noisily over more stones, and a few birds scatter above.

“Could you stop yelling at me? I can't focus!” you whisper back, louder than you meant. He straightens, fixing you with a look.

“You wan’ learn how t’do this or nah?”

You roll your eyes, turning forward again and concentrating on your steps.

After a few more minutes of cautious trekking, Daryl’s hand touches your arm, stopping you. He points to the ground, where the small buck’s tracks press into the dirt. You smile, spotting the deer just ahead, grazing unaware. Daryl quietly lowers his crossbow as you ready the rifle, lifting it over your shoulder. He steps closer, his breath warm against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. His right arm slides beneath yours, steadying the stock, his left hand guiding your fingers on the trigger. Together, he angles the gun toward the buck’s heart.

But your hands are trembling, and before you can steady yourself, tears start slipping down your cheeks. Daryl pulls back slightly as a shaky sob escapes you.

“‘M sorry, Daryl,” you whisper, and the buck’s head snaps in your direction, alert. Daryl stands back, his expression unreadable.

“I just...can’t do it,” you say, dropping the rifle and covering your face, feeling frustrated and exposed. You’d been building up to this moment for days, learning the steps, trying to push yourself.

“Hey, hey,” he murmurs, stepping forward and gently pulling your hands from your face. “S’alright, stop. C’mon, stop.” He holds your gaze, his hands firm on either side of your face. “First time’s always the hardest. S’okay.”

You clutch his arms, leaning into his steady presence as you stifle another sob. He shushes you softly, resting his cheek against yours, then wraps his arms around you in a warm, grounding embrace.

“S’okay,” he whispers into your hair.

x flash forward x

As you follow quietly and closely behind the buck, you take a moment to admire the Daryl you hadn't seen in years. He holds his crossbow with such precision, his biceps curling and flexing as he has it aimed up. The deer is out of sight for you now, making its way ahead, but you know Daryl has his eyes on other clues in the dirt for it. In your hazy thoughts you barely register the yelping sound, but you both make a run for it toward the noise. What surprises you is when you hear someone else ahead–a human voice. 

Many human voices.

Chapter 2 is here

[indigovigilance]

Bullet Theory

Thesis: Crowley passed Aziraphale a bullet during the Final Fifteen kiss. This bullet contains his memories. He tucked it under his tongue, then began to access the memories during the ride up the elevator.

Edit: debunked by God himself, in response to this post. As a reminder, please don’t send fan theories to NG.

Proof:

Glint in the mouth

Inspo credit to this post by @somehow-a-human

Yeah so we were already paying way too much attention to that very special four-letter word we thought Aziraphale was going to say, but it so happens that during that cut-off phoneme is the only time you can see this shiny object in his mouth. (catching this on the right frame was emotionally painful and I’m sending Gavin Finney my therapy bills (actually no I’m not I love you very much sir)).

So that’s the basis of this theory. Crowley passed Aziraphale a bullet that he then tucks under his tongue.

Add’l Evidence Post-Kiss

Aziraphale works his jaw after raising his fingers to his lips: [gif]

Then when the Metatron comes in, he turns his back on the Metatron and raises his hand. I originally thought he was wiping his eyes. Now I think he’s raising his hand to his mouth, maybe to spit out the bullet, maybe to make sure it’s secured under his tongue.

Credits Scene

Aziraphale has the craziest fucking look on his face through the credits, we can all agree. But towards the end, his eyes flicker back and forth, as if he is watching or reading something. Then he smiles. I hypothesize that he is still accessing his memories during this time, and getting the information he needs to [redacted].

Thematic Justification: The Bullet Catch

Aziraphale having a bullet in his mouth as part of a two-man act of deception is not a fresh concept by the time we get to The Final Fifteen.

Additionally, the use of surreptitious modes of communication, where messages are passed from person to person inaudabily, is introduced in this same magic trick. 

NB1: I wish I could credit the person who I first saw point this out (relatively recently). It wasn’t even tagged as meta, I don’t think. But the gist was there’s some parallelism between “aim for my mouth but shoot past my ear” and the “pin the lips on the lips” move that Crowley pulls in the Final Fifteen. If I find it I will properly cite.

NB2: One hypothesis that has circulated around, I think creditable to @sendarya, is that Aziraphale mouths “trust me” to Crowley just before he gets on the elevator. This isn’t necessary to the Bullet Theory but it would be thematically consistent.

Small objects carry memories

Why a bullet? Well, it’s a small object that has meaningful significance between the pair of people involved, much like:

Beelzebub introduces us to the idea that a small object like a fly can be used as a storage container for memories. We also see that the object entering the body of the person is a viable way for the memories to be delivered.

(btw Jon Hamm if you’re reading this, you have very pretty eyes)

“I keep a derringer in a hollowed out book”

K, so it’s not like Crowley is just carrying a bullet loaded with Aziraphale’s memories around with him at all times, is it? (I mean, it could be, but probably not. I’ll just point you to this meta for my theories on why, if Crowley had anything that needed to be kept safe, he would keep it in the bookshop.)

We learn in S2E4 that Aziraphale keeps a gun in a hollowed out book somewhere in the shop. A gun wouldn’t be any good without bullets, right? This may not be the reason the derringer was left as a Chekhov’s Gun for S3, but it’s a possibility. If Crowley wasn’t already in possession of a bullet, he knew that he could find one in the shop. Even more likely, the exact bullet used in the 1941 magic trick is a precious keepsake being kept somewhere in the bookshop, and Crowley chose to use that exact bullet because of the memories already directly attached to the object.

Why Aziraphale even has memories to be returned to him

We know that Aziraphale could have had his mind wiped because Heaven has done it before. Certainly once. Probably twice. We know this because when Metatron is announcing that Gabriel, alongside having his memories erased, is being demoted to 38th class, Muriel pipes up and reminds us that they are 37th class:

So this wasn’t a “just Gabriel” thing. Mind-wiping is a routine form of personnel management in Heaven. There is NO reason for us to believe that it didn’t happen to Aziraphale. But in case you need a reason to believe it, here goes:

We know from our interactions with Jim that the person whose memories are missing (1) doesn’t necessarily know and (2) isn’t necessarily distressed by that fact, even if they do. Muriel also fits this “cheerful empty shell” archetype. You know who else does? Ding ding ding. The one and only A. Z. “wiggles with delight” Fell.

I can already hear your very valid counter-argument. This guy is actually terrified out of his mind on any given day that his romance with a demon will be discovered. Yes. Because he’s involved in a romance with a demon. The other two angels we’ve met don’t have this issue. Beyond that, though, these three characters share more in common with each other disposition-wise than any of them do with the other angels we’ve met (Uriel, Michael, Sandolphon, etc.).

We also know that Aziraphale has been [demoted] at some point from Cherub to Principality. This is book canon: 

"Technically Aziraphale was a Principality, but people made jokes about that these days."

This has also been confirmed (insofar as Neil Gaiman ever confirms anything) by Word of God:

(marketing video screengrab clipped for brevity)

We don’t know for sure it was a demotion, but I think we have enough evidence to infer that with a high degree of confidence.

Anyways.

Summary: Aziraphale is a cheerful angel who was demoted and has a name that is not biblical canon. This evidence indicates that was probably mind-wiped. This is not the first time I’m proposing this. It won’t be the last.

How Crowley Did It

My meta on Continuity Errors gives the complete proof for why I believe that Crowley is able to stop time without Aziraphale knowing, and I propose in that meta that the kiss was a cover-up for the exertion of effort necessary to pull that off. I further proposed that during the pause, he retrieved something from the bookshop. At the time of writing, I didn’t know what. Now, I have an inkling that it was a bullet.

If you need a refresher on Clock Theory, here’s one. The idea is that the clock behind Aziraphale shifts by fifteen minutes from before the kiss to after the kiss. This is consistent with a theory that Crowley paused time (but the clock kept running) in order to retrieve the bullet, dump Aziraphale’s memories into it if he hadn’t already, and then return to transfer the bullet to Aziraphale.

Why Crowley Kept the Secret So Long

As with Continuity Errors, I am ending this meta with a very unsatisfactory “I don’t know.” The motivation for Crowley to keep Aziraphale’s memories from him until the very moment he’s about to leave must have been a strong one. I think it has something to do with why Crowley was so insistent on trying to get Aziraphale to run away with him, instead of dealing with whatever’s coming. But as with Continuity Errors, I suspect that the good omens meta hivemind (and the vast collection of people who are posting clues, you have no idea how important you are) will assemble yet more breadcrumbs that we can follow to some sort of hypothesis.

Until then,

iv

(here's my meta index if you would like to read more stuff like this)

[kremlin]

after many years my old company has finally allowed people back into the office, haha, not to go to work, no no, solely to collect their belongings from their desks. i picked up my stuff and remembered what a psycho i was about my office back then, let me show you..

i set up an old VT-420 on a side of my desk to read my email on (to flex my computer dick) which is unfortunately a bit too yellowed now for me to post exposed but hilariously enough i did take the chance to fix the faulty RS-232 chip in it and i no longer get a bunch of keystrokes interpreted as ŸŸŸŸs randomly. the fix was great too, instead of having to throw the whole thing out like you'd need to today, i literally just had to pull the PTH chip out of its socket, didn't even need to desolder. nor throw the old one out. i blasted it with a blowtorch for about half a second and it's fine now.

(it is amber by the way, which is the best color)

the keyboard is another story, i think a lot of like, entry-level vintage computing people get this concept that every old keyboard is some treasure, and boy let me tell you, some of them make you want throw up, like the vt420's:

you'll have to take my word that the typing experience is pure ass, but if you look at this fucker for more than two seconds your blood pressure will start to raise. and i'm not just talking about the euro return key. where is the super key? and what is going on left of 'a'? did they decide to solve the age-old "caps lock vs ctrl" debate by putting both of them there (??) what the fuck is going on north of the arrow keys?!?! and even further north, 'help' is funny enough on its own, the fact its next to DO, a truly existentially puzzling key, makes it that much better. why is DO so wide?? why are there so many F keys? and apparantly 20 F keys wasn't enough, they had to go on and invent "PF" keys above the numpad. and it doesn't stop there..

the pre-USB world was pretty nuts, but most keyboards still had sane connectors like DE-9's, PS/2, DINs, etc, but not this one

it uses, a, uh, looks like an ethernet cable. weird. but look closer. six pins. AND, big honking square to key it specifically and make it incompatible with the very-similar already-existing 6P6C specification (why?) anyways, that's enough of this crap, moving on

this is the keyboard for my lisp machine, the famous "space cadet keyboard", i get so many fucking emails about this keyboard, christ almighty. people trying to buy it from me, it's a shame, the machines don't boot without them so seperating them to satisfy reddit guy wish fulfillment breaks my heart. it's a lot better. it's from an era where a good computer would set you back half a million and the hardware reflects it. honeywell made it, it's "solid state" insofar as that makes sense for a keyboard, uses the hall effect. there weren't any rats at my office but just in case i seem to have taped something to the underside:

lol. now for accouterments to cover those hideous eggshell white walls:

in order, openbsd, you know it baby, middle is a weird polish promo for the holy mountain, the last thing was a joke whose meaning has been lost to time. chicken and turkey!

i seemed to have been working on some very bizarre electronics projects, personal, during my workday:

god, what the fuck was this?

oh, duh, it's bort's hat. (??)

some reading materials. K&R C is a first edition, somewhat rare. the 9front manuals:

classic, natch. and a huge gear that's clapped

that's it. that's my office apparently.

[skzdust]

Cinderella in Mary Janes

This fic was written for the @mirohs-aurora-society secret Santa event! My secret Santa was @dinossaurz ! You requested fluff so I really hope you like this! It contains just a bit of angst/drama but it has a very happy ending :)

This is also the first fic I’ve made a playlist for so I hope you like that too!! It contains a healthy mix of emo music and romantic pop!

Side note: as I am an emo music enjoyer I included three references to emo bands/brands in this fic! If you’re familiar with the genre see if you can find them ;)

Enjoy!!

Summary: when emo Wooyoung sits next to you in class, it leads to an unexpected romance. But rumors fly, as they often do… (featuring a few skz boys as friends!)

Pairing: emo! Wooyoung x cutesy! Reader

Includes: college au, emo music/clothing references, cutesy reader, a little Cinderella reference bc that’s my fav movie, watching movies together, Chan, Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix as reader’s besties, rumors and reactions, coffee and study dates

Word count: 3.8k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone , @caught-in-the-afterglow , @palindrome969 , @skzstan12345 , @katsukis1wife , @tsunderelino, @hyunjinsjeans , @somethingkindazainy , @silverstarburst , @atzlordz , @breadpuddingboys

Networks: @mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!

Masterlist

——-

You held back a sigh as you walked into the lecture hall. You did not want to take this biology class, but the requirement had to be fulfilled, especially since you were in your last year of school.

“I don’t get why a film major has to take a science class.” You grumbled to yourself, setting your white frilly bag on the desk in front of you and sitting down.

“I know.”

You jumped as you looked over your shoulder. A boy with long, dark hair was setting his messenger bag down beside you. He was dressed in a black T-shirt with the Your Organic Hatred band logo on it and light-wash jeans, and his jacket was covered in patches and pins. “Oh my God, you scared me.”

He smiled. “I have that effect on people sometimes.”

“I— you just startled me, that’s all.” You sat down, wondering why he’d chosen to sit next to you in the nearly empty lecture hall. You were dressed as opposite to him as you probably could’ve been: a blush-colored top with a white cardigan and a frilly pink miniskirt.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He sat down, too. “I just wanted to say I love your outfit.”

“Oh… thank you.” You looked down, turning the same color as your top. “I am not looking forward to this class.”

“Me neither.” He said as he pulled out his laptop. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation with yourself, but I’m a film major, too.”

You giggled. “That was a very private conversation, you had no right to listen.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, miss…” He trailed off, waiting for your name.

“Y/n.” You said, a little shyly.

“Miss y/n. I will be more considerate of your privacy going forward.”

“I appreciate that, Mister…” You raised your eyebrows.

“Wooyoung.” He grinned, and you noticed an eyebrow piercing. You swallowed. It was hot.

“Mister Wooyoung.” You tried to regain your composure. “So, you’re a film major, too? What’s your concentration?”

“Visual effects. How about you?”

“Screenwriting. I’m taking an editing class this semester though.”

Wooyoung perked up. “Which one?”

“Color correction.”

“440? With Dr. Dewey?”

“Yes!”

“We’re in it together, then.” Wooyoung smiled. “That’s cool.”

“Yeah!” You smiled back. “I hear Dewey can be tough, but he’s ultimately a good professor.”

“Yeah, I had him for editing techniques last semester.” Wooyoung nodded. “He definitely pushes you, but I learned a lot.”

“Well, now I know who to go to when I need help.” You leaned down to your bag to get your notebook out.

“I’d be more than willing to help.” Wooyoung said, and you were glad your face was away from him, because you were furiously blushing again.

You continued to talk with him about classes and professors and the film program until the Biology 110 professor walked in and started the class. Even then, you couldn’t get your mind off Wooyoung, doodling little flowers in the margins as the professor went on about course expectations. You were a good student, you’d read the syllabus already. You only paid attention when she mentioned a homework assignment due in a couple days. You groaned, homework during the first week of classes wasn’t unusual by any means but it was still annoying.

When the fifty minutes were up and the class was over, you packed up your things and stood up. “It was so nice to meet you, Wooyoung… could I get your number?”

Wooyoung’s grin was wide. “I’d love that.”

You handed him your phone with an empty contact open. He filled in his information and handed it back to you. He’d included his birthday, November 26.

You laughed. “Why’d you put your birthday in?”

He shrugged. “I always give people my birthday. I like getting happy birthday texts.”

That’s so cute, you thought, but you said, “Maybe I should start doing that, too.”

“You should. It says a lot about a person, who they send happy birthday texts to.” He nodded sagely.

“I’m sure it does.” You laughed.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow for color correction.” He grinned. “I’ll find you.”

“Sounds good.” You said, going red again.

He laughed and walked out. You finished zipping up your bag and left, off to your next class.

—

That evening, you were at your best friend’s apartment with a few of your other friends. Minho was cooking dinner, and the rest of you were crowded into the small living room.

“So, first day of classes.” Hyunjin said. “How’d it go?”

“Oh my God, I met the cutest guy.” You gushed. “In my biology class, of all places. He’s also a film major, maybe you know him… Wooyoung?”

“Wooyoung?” Felix’s eyes widened. “I just know he’s in a band that plays at Ross’s sometimes, he’s the drummer.”

“I’ve heard he’s a bit of a playboy.” Chan hummed. “Be cautious, y/n.”

“He seemed so sweet.” You mumbled.

“Campus rumors aren’t always true.” Felix put his arm around you. “And drummers are hot. You should go for it. Did he seem interested in you?”

“I mean, I got his number.”

“Text him! Oh my God, text him!” Felix bounced in place. “Ask him on a date!”

“That seems a little presumptuous.” You smiled at his excitement. “But I’ll see if he wants to hang out or something.”

You opened your phone and started a text to Wooyoung, grinning that he’d put a little smiley face emoticon next to his name: “Wooyoung :)”.

“Hey, Wooyoung, it’s y/n.” You mumbled aloud as you composed the text. “Do you want to work on the bio homework together tomorrow, maybe after color correction?”

“You’re in a second class together?” Felix smiled. “Oh, this is meant to be.”

You rolled your eyes and sent the text.

Hyunjin had started to tell you about his painting class when your phone buzzed. You picked it up immediately. “Wooyoung :)” had texted back.

“Hi y/n! I’d love to. I’m free after color correction so we can totally go to the student center or something!” You read, a smile spreading across your face.

“Victory!” Felix pumped his fist in the air. “Date scheduled!”

“It is not a date.” You laughed. “We’re just doing homework.”

“Maybe right now it is.” Hyunjin smiled. “But it could become something more.”

“Exactly!” Felix chimed in.

You looked at Hyunjin. “Oh, not you chiming in.”

He smiled innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, yes, you do.” You shook your head, smiling. “I’ll let you all know how my not-date goes, okay?”

—

When you had color correction the next day, you walked into the class looking for Wooyoung. He must not have arrived yet, though, so you sat by some girls you knew from a film class a couple semesters ago. You didn’t remember any of their names, so you hoped you wouldn’t need to address them.

“Hey!” One of them greeted you. “It’s been a while! How are you?”

“Good!” You said absently, still looking around for Wooyoung.

“Who are you looking for?” One of the others said, twisting around in her seat.

“Do you know Wooyoung?” You said quietly.

“Drummer for Ateez Wooyoung?” The first one said. “You’re looking for him?”

You smiled. “Yeah.”

“Careful with him.” One of them said. “He’s super cute, and he knows it.”

That made two people who’d warned you against him. You bit your lip. “He seems so nice, though.”

“He is nice!” The first one said. “That’s the issue. He’s so nice, and then suddenly he’s talking to some other girl, and doesn’t even worry about you anymore.”

“You’re talking from experience, Ella.” One of them nudged Ella’s shoulder, and she rolled her eyes.

You didn’t like these girls. You’d sat near them in your last class, but they’d always seemed a bit mean to you.

You stood up. “I think I’m gonna sit near the front so I can get the notes better.”

“Okay.” Ella nodded. “Cool.”

You gave her a tight-lipped smile and picked up your bag, moving to the front of the room.

As if on cue, Wooyoung walked in the door, waving at you and walking over to sit beside you. Today he was in a black hoodie with a red and black design on it from Open Destruction, and black jeans. A tiny calculator hung from his belt.

“What’s that for?” You nodded at it.

He grinned. “Math, of course.”

“Oh, of course. Just in case.”

“Just in case.” He agreed. “How are you today?”

“I’m good.” You said. “I’m kind of dreading the bio homework, but it has to happen.” You sighed dramatically.

“It does.”

Before you could respond, Dr. Dewey walked into the room. “Hello, everyone! My name is Dr. Dewey, and welcome to color corrections.”

—

After class, you and Wooyoung walked to the student center together. “So, what’s the homework?”

“I think we read the textbook chapter and do the online quiz.” You said. “It shouldn’t be too bad, but I haven’t taken a biology class in a very long time, so I thought having someone to work with would be good.”

“I’m not very good at bio, but maybe if we put our heads together we can come up with something that makes sense.” He smiled.

You got to the student center and set up. Wooyoung went to get a coffee from the coffee shop, and you pulled out your phone.

11:56am, September 4

You: Just got to the student center :)

Felix: OMG YAAAAY

You: Don’t celebrate just yet lol, we’re just hanging out

Hyunjin: Sure. Remember to use a condom, y/n.

You: STOP IT HYUNE

Wooyoung returned with two cups in hand, and you put your phone away. “I didn’t know your coffee order, but you seemed like a caramel latte girl.”

You smiled, taking it. “I am! I love caramel lattes. Thank you, Wooyoung, I really appreciate it.”

He sat down across from you. “Of course.”

You both opened your laptops, navigating to the course page. “Ugh, I’ve said this before, but I hate biology.”

“Me too, but it’s a necessary evil.” Wooyoung said. “Gotta get the science credit.”

“Yeah.” You opened the textbook and began to read the first chapter. It all made sense so far, except for some information about the chemical makeup of microbes.

“I can’t quite get this. Page thirty four.” You said to him.

“Oh. I think I got that.” He began to explain it to you. It was all clear when he said it, and it wasn’t just because he was incredibly attractive as he described it. You stopped him after a couple minutes.

“Okay, I get it now. Thanks! You know, you’re not bad at bio.”

“I guess.” Wooyoung shifted in his seat. “I just don’t like it, so I don’t think I’m great.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, you’re smart, Wooyoung.”

“Thanks.” He smiled at you. “Do you want to move on to the quiz?”

“Yeah.”

You did the quiz together, and both of you got a 90% on it. This was mostly due to Wooyoung’s biology smarts, but you helped on a lot of the questions, too.

“Perfect.” You smiled, closing your laptop. “This was great.”

“It was. You know… you should come to my place sometime. We can watch a movie or something.”

You were suddenly on high alert, the warnings from Chan and Ella echoing in your ears. “That sounds great!” You said anyway. You hadn’t known Wooyoung for long, but you liked him, and you didn’t want to keep your distance.

“I’ll text you.” He said, finishing packing his things.

You walked out together, separating as you walked one direction towards your apartment, and he walked the other. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yes, for sure.” Wooyoung winked. “See you!”

“Bye!” You waved, hoping he couldn’t see your blush at his wink.

—

On Friday, you smoothed out your short white skirt as you stood in front of Wooyoung’s door, taking a breath before knocking.

Someone who was very tall and very not Wooyoung answered the door. “Hello?” He said, smiling and tilting his head. “Um, can I help you?”

“I’m— Wooyoung invited me over.” You stammered.

“Oh!” He leaned inside. “Woo! Your date’s here!”

“Coming!” Wooyoung’s voice said, and the way he didn’t deny you were his date made you go red. He appeared behind the other boy a minute later. “Come on in, y/n!”

“Thanks.” You said softly, stepping inside.

The other boy closed the door behind you, and you followed Wooyoung up the stairs.

His bedroom had a lot of stuff in it, but it was neat. The walls were decorated with band posters, and a drum kit sat in the corner. Trinkets sat on every available surface, and a TV was on the wall.

He switched it on, hopping on the bed. You gingerly sat on the edge, looking at the TV.

“You can get comfy, if you want.” He smiled.

“Okay.” You smiled and took off your shoes, then sat next to Wooyoung on the bed. “Oh, your bed is so comfortable.”

“I know.” He laughed. “I don’t like waking up early.”

“I can see why.”

Wooyoung queued up a movie on the TV, a comedy you’d never seen but wanted to. “I really like this one, if you want to watch a comedy?”

“I’d love to.” You smiled.

He started the movie, and you reclined back onto the pillows beside him.

You didn’t touch, but it already felt intimate to be so close to him. The movie was good, and hearing him laugh so much was adorable. You chatted as you watched, too, talking about the jokes, the characters, other movies you liked, classes, and music. You barely noticed when the movie ended, you were so caught up in your conversation.

Eventually you lay down with him, looking into each others’s eyes as you continued to talk. You began to notice his eyes drifting to your lips, then snapping back to your eyes when you said something. It was clear what he was thinking about.

There was a pause in conversation, and you smiled, just looking at him.

“Can I kiss you?” Wooyoung asked softly.

The alarm bells rang, deafening.

Chan. I’ve heard he’s a bit of a playboy. Be cautious, y/n. Ella. He’s so nice, and then suddenly he’s talking to some other girl, and doesn’t even worry about you anymore.

I’m just another girl to him.

You got up quickly, tears gathering in your eyes.

“It’s okay if not, y/n, I didn’t mean to freak you out or anything.” Wooyoung said, a note of distress in his voice.

“Don’t play around with me, Wooyoung.” You said, your words wavering.

“What? I’m not playing around with— I’m sorry for asking so soon!”

“I’m not just another girl.” You got one shoe on fully and slid the other half-on, ready to get out of there as fast as you could. All he wanted from you was a kiss, or more, and then he’d be done with you. You’d thought you were moving towards something deeper with him, but you should’ve listened to the people you knew.

Sometimes, campus rumors were true.

You ran down the stairs, one of your Mary Janes sliding off on the stairs. You didn’t even worry about it, running out of the house and back to your car. You locked the doors and took a few deep, shuddering breaths, holding back your tears.

Wooyoung hadn’t followed you outside, and you were glad for it. You got yourself together as best you could and turned on your car. Instead of going home, you went to Chan’s apartment.

He answered the door. “Y/n? What happened, are you okay?”

“Wooyoung asked if he could kiss me.” You sobbed.

Chan just looked at you for a second. “Okay, come inside.”

You told Chan and Minho, who was over hanging out, about what had happened. “I was just another girl to him, he was just using me.”

They looked at each other for a long moment. “I’m sorry I told you that, y/n.” Chan said.

“Huh?” You looked at him.

“I heard that from a friend of Ella’s. It sounds like he really does like you. He got you coffee, he invited you over, and you talked for hours. That all sounds like someone who’s actually interested in you.”

“Really?” You hiccuped.

“Yes.” Chan nodded. “And as for Ella, well… she doesn’t sound like the most reliable source, if Wooyoung broke up with her.”

“Yeah, I don’t like her all that much.” You said with a rueful smile. “She talked about her exes all the time when I was in that other class with her.” You tried to remember if one of them had been named Wooyoung, but you couldn’t exactly recall.

“Sounds like someone might be a little bitter.” Minho noted. He looked down. “You’re missing a shoe.”

“Yeah, my Mary Jane fell off on Wooyoung’s stairs.” You held back another wave of tears.

“So, you have to see him to get it back.” Chan said quietly.

“I have to see him in a couple days for class, anyway.” You sighed. “Can I spend the night here? I don’t want to drive.”

“Of course. The couch is all yours.”

“Perfect, thank you, Chan.”

He rubbed your back. “Of course, y/n.”

Minho left a little later, and Chan got some blankets for you. You fell asleep fitfully, even on Chan’s famously comfortable couch.

You woke up the next morning disoriented. You felt like you hadn’t gotten any rest at all. Chan was already up, making eggs on the stove.

“Morning, sleepy. It’s 10.” Chan shoved the eggs around with a spatula. “I thought the smell of breakfast might wake you up.”

“It did.” You smiled. “Thank you for everything.”

“Of course.”

You looked at your phone.

One text from “Wooyoung :)”.

“Hey, I’m sorry about last night. I have your shoe, if you want to meet somewhere and I can give it back.” You read to Chan.

“He apologized.” Chan said. “I think that’s a good sign. If he was trying to use you I don’t know that he’d care enough to try to rebuild the relationship.”

“I guess.” You sighed. “I’ll get the shoe back and hear what he has to say.”

“I think that’s a good idea. But first, eggs.”

—

You gave Wooyoung Chan’s address. Chan had to leave to meet his sister for lunch, leaving you to meet him alone.

“Just give it a chance, okay?” Chan smiled at you, taking his keys off the hook by the door. “And if he’s a dick, we’ll all cut him off forever, okay?”

You smiled back. “Sounds good.”

Chan walked out, and you collapsed onto the couch, trying to prepare for what you’d say to Wooyoung, but all you could think about was yesterday on his bed, looking at each other and talking about anything and everything and smiling at each other.

You wanted to give him another chance, but you didn’t want to get played.

There was a knock at the door. You unlocked it with shaking hands.

Wooyoung was standing there with your pink Mary Jane in one hand and a bouquet of beautiful white and pink flowers in the other. “Hey, I got you these because I thought you’d like the colors, and, um, to apologize, I didn’t mean to freak you out moving so fast.” He said in a rush.

You felt yourself tearing up again, and you stepped aside to make space. “Come on in.”

“Is this your apartment?” He asked, looking around.

“No, it’s my friend Chan’s. I came here last night after, um… what happened, and I ended up sleeping on the couch, partially because I only had one shoe.”

“Well, I can help with that.” Wooyoung held it up.

You took the flowers from him, pushing your face into them and inhaling the beautiful scent. “Woo, these are beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like them.” His smile was tentative, like he was… nervous.

You set them on the counter and went to sit on the couch, holding out your leg.

Wooyoung slipped the shoe on, looking at you. You could see him biting the inside of his cheek.

“I’m sorry about yesterday.” You sighed. “I heard all these people telling me you were kinda a… a playboy, and I freaked out.”

Wooyoung closed his eyes. “Yeah, those rumors have been following me around since me and Ella broke up. She can be really nasty when she’s angry, which is part of why we… you know, broke up.”

You felt a flicker of hope. “So… you actually do like me?”

He laughed. “Of course I like you, y/n. I really did just want to kiss you.”

You patted the couch beside you. Wooyoung sat.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked.

His eyes widened. “Do you really want to?”

“Yes.” You said breathlessly.

He gently moved one hand up to your hair, combing through it with his fingers. “You’re so pretty, y/n. Yes, I’d love to kiss you.” And with that, he moved forward, closing the gap between you and pressing his lips to yours.

It wasn’t anything rough or demanding, rather, sweet and affectionate. Wooyoung was gentle and sweet and he tasted like mint, like he’d just brushed his teeth or had been chewing gum or something.

When you both pulled away, you bit your tingling lip. “You’re not mad?”

“No.” He shrugged. “You were just doing what you thought was best with the information you had. I don’t blame you for that.”

You smiled. “Can we go on another date then?”

He smiled back. “Of course. I know emo music isn’t entirely your style, but there’s this band I really like that’s coming into town in a couple days, and I have an extra ticket, if you’d like to come.”

Your eyes widened. “Actually, I really love emo music.”

“Really? You have about the most opposite style to emo I’ve ever seen.” He laughed.

“Hey, just because I don’t commit to the look doesn’t mean I can’t like the music!”

He raised his hands in surrender. “My bad, my bad! But, um, you want to do the concert, then?”

“Here, um, you’ve got…” You brushed a stray piece of hair away from his face. “I’d love to go to the show. What band?”

“Climb In, Girl. They’re one of my favorites.” You could see him light up as he mentioned them.

“That works out, I love them too!” You beamed.

“Perfect.” Wooyoung took your hand, squeezing it. “I’m so excited.”

“Me too.”

You just smiled at each other for a moment before Wooyoung leaned in to kiss you again.

[jgyllenhaalstannie]

❢Pleading❢(Steven Grant x reader)

Warnings: smut, sub!Steven,pegging, cursing, slight overstimulating

Summary: I'm not entirely sure, I'm just writing this bc I'm in desperate need of bottom Steven stories (also I don't like the ending really but oh well)

Edit: bye the way that this wasn't even supposed to be dropped yet I accidentally posted it this is very old

●◉◎◈◎◉●●◉◎◈◎◉●●◉◎◈◎◉●●◉◎◈◎◉●

Steven is head over heels for you. He'll do almost anything you ask him to. So when you asked him to try out something new in the bedroom, he didn't mind at all.... He just had a few questions.

".. So you want that...to go in my arse?" He pointed to the strap on the side on the room. You nodded, sitting next to him on the bed. "Now we don't have to if you don't feel comfortable, but you said you were willing to try something new." He stared at you with his glossy eyes, shaking his head. "No,it's alright, I'll do it."

 You smiled and kissed him, pushing him onto the bed. He felt his face heat up, already feeling needy for your touch. You grabbed his hands and pinned then above his head, preventing him from touching you. You drug your hand down his chest, all the way down to his crotch. You saw his chest cave, desperately wanting to be touched by you. Steven leaned towards you when you pulled away from the long kiss. He whined, clearly wanting more. You undid his decorative shirt and unbuttoned his pants, exposing his chest and v-line.

"Wow Steven, I didn't know I had this effect on you." His cock continued to twitch as his grip on the sheets lossed. You slowly pulled out,earning a low groan from him. He rolled over exposing the sweat pressed onto his face. He chest rose up and down quickly, still struggling to catch his breath. "Bloody hell, that was amazing... Why didn't we do this before?" He smirked and wiped his face. You chuckled and undid the strap on, placing it to the side.You leaned down and kissed his wet lips that were still covered in drool on the sides. "I really love you, darling" You ruffled his hair and pulled at some of the lose curls in front of his face.

He watched your tongue dance on his stomach, leaving light kisses wherever you licked. His back arched from the sensitivity, moaning quietly. "Please darling.. " You smirked at his desperate pleads, standing up on your knees to get into position. "Roll over, ass up" You left him to follow your direction and went to grab your strap. You looked over at Steven who had perfectly followed your demand, his face in a pillow, bare ass in perfect view, and his hand wrapped around his cock. You smirked at the sight of him yearning for you to fuck him.

His faint whines slightly filled the room as you walked over to him. "You ready, baby?" "God, yes." You lubed his entrance with your saliva and slowly inserted the tip. Steven groaned into the pillow, trying to muffle his volume. You stayed still, letting him adjust to the size every time you went deeper. You stopped once you were half way in, listening to him whine and moan. You slowly thrusted into him, not going too far. "Oh fuck, deeper please, deeper." He begged for the rest of your cock in his ass. You pushed the rest of it inside of him, watching his ass hole stretch to the shape of your strap. "You like that?" You gripped his hips and guided him to the rhythm of your thrusts. His hand was still tightly wrapped around his cock, jerking it quickly. He answered back in a loud moan, using his other hand to grip the sheets. You thrusted into him harder, causing him to moan louder. "Use your words baby, do you like it?" You played with the tip of his cock and waited for an answer. "Yes, yes I love it -- oh my god. " You felt the precum start to leak out and onto your finger. You licked it and followed his strokes.

" I'm so close, please let me come darling." He whimpered when you traced his back with your cold fingers. "Oh fuck, don't stop. Don't stop, please." You gripped and stroked his cock, still thrusting into him deeply. Funny how he was just begging cum but still wants to keep getting fucked. "Shit, I'm gonna come, oh fuck." You wished you could see his face. His pleading eyes, the slight drool coming from the side of his mouth. The white liquid spilled onto his and your hands, licking up whatever was on yours. Stevens back caved as he released onto the bed sheets, some shooting onto his stomach. You road out your high, still pushing in and out of his ass.His thighs shook from over stimulation, cum still dripping from his cock and hand. You've never heard him curse so much in one night. He'd say his usual 'oh bollocks' 'shit' 'bloody hell' but never fuck, especially in this setting.

"I love you too,Steven."

[dailydegurechaff]

Not to be that person who starts discourse on their fandom blog, but like clearly I need to say this outside of the pinned post bc it keeps happening??

I’m cool with reuploads guys, put my shitposts on Reddit all you want, I’m fine with it. But for the love of god give me some credit when you do??? It’s really not hard to put a link or just even say “this was drawn by dailydegurechaff on tumblr”

This is like the third time the “PSA regarding proper handling” post has been reposted without proper credit.

And like????

What do you mean you “couldn’t find the artist”??? You had it right already. The artist is Dailydegurechaff?? Do you think I don’t draw these myself? I feel like I should be offended people would assume I’m just reposting art I found elsewhere.

I’m sorry to rant, but lack of art credit is the one thing that seriously sets me off

-- Editing to add further comments bc reddit saw this post: This post was made in a fit of irritation, literally only meant to vent some frustration. I just wanted to complain abt my feelings a bit, not start some inter-website fight. It wasn't intended to be a personal attack at the OP, but I see now how it could be read that way and I apologize for that. The OP apologized to me and added credit which I thank them for. No hard feelings for them, I'm cool with them.

I really have no intention to stir up drama with the reddit side of the YS community, I just want to continue to draw daily tanyas. Ty

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

a good omens grieving update because if I'm crying at 5 am you better be too.

Good morning, maggoty loves of mine. Despite all attempts to distract myself and you all with wedding cakes and dresses and textposts, it is five in the fucking morning, and I've been crying for half an hour already.

I'm listening to the Pentatonix cover of Hallelujah on loop and I will never be normal about anything ever again and there is nothing you, I, God, Satan or even Neil can do about it.

@mirrorleaf was kind enough to hijack my stupid royal family post with this fucking gorgeous edit of season 1 set to Hallelujah. Thank you, I'm now fucking sobbing and I found another edit again of season 1 and then I read fics and now I'm NOT FUCKING OKAY.

All the times Aziraphale looks up to Heaven and prays, how hopeful and desperate he is, and then the way he looks at Crowley while he's pinned against the wall, entirely calm and sure and safe.

And the song playing with Love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah over Crowley crying over alcohol when he thought Aziraphale had died. I'm not okay.

I need to watch season 1 again. When I watched it first, it was in two installments with you maggots on livestream, and the first installment was like two days after I was kidnapped as Mascot of Good Omens. Needless to say, it was all a fever dream.

Then I watched this edit now and there's so much. There's so much fucking layers and emotion and nuance that I didn't notice. And it's absolutely going to wreck me and then I'll have to rewatch season 2 and by then I'll have no self-preservation and I'll have read the book and I'll never ever be okay again and I'll have to live with it.

You all really just found a guy on the internet and fucking wrecked him, huh. This fandom really just did that. Now salt and pepper shakers made me think about Crowley's Fall and the inherent transience of human nature and The angel you knew is not me.

It hurts. I thought I was ridiculous about Drarry. No I was entirely fucking reasonable about Drarry. This is a gut punch except to the throat. Repeatedly.

I remember when I made a post a day or two after finishing season 2 and someone, @thescholarlystrumpet it was probably you, told me that grief isn't a linear process and to take care. To anyone outside this broken fandom, that would seem like a disproportional response to a show's season 2 finale when we know that it will end happily. Everyone in this fandom knows how much that reminder is needed, though.

Besides, though we know that the show ends happily, we know that Aziraphale and Crowley will be together and it is inevitable, how does it still fucking hurt so much? I knew all the spoilers, technically, of the show before I started, and it still surprised me with the emotions.

I had to stop writing this post for a few minutes because an image came to my mind and I had to sketch it. Of how I'd felt when I came here, lonely and frightened, and how the fandom grabbed me and forced me to watch the show and how much it hurts and how beautiful it is and how it feels like a mirror. A shattered mirror, one that's soaked with all our blood and tears, but it showed me I wasn't alone. So here, have this brief sketch and do NOT come at with about pretentiousness my beloved maggots because for one, I have always aspired to be pretentious and for another, THE SUN HASN'T FUCKING RISEN AND I'VE BEEN IN TEARS WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?

Congratulations, the next time anyone asks you if you've ever killed anyone, every one of you can confidently say that yes, you are indeed directly responsible for murder. My blood is on your hands, motherfuckers, you adopted a Mascot and then killed him.