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andhumanslovedstories · 3 months ago

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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.

#mxtx #w.#b.#the thing about writing scum villain is that you have to write a character so is SO CONFIDENTLY wrong.#sqq needs to be as sure of that he is wrong to the degree with which he is actually wrong #i've used more exclamation points in the last month than i have perhaps in my life. i might in fact have too many exclamation points #but turns out that shit's fun as hell #it's word confetti

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cindyss · 8 months ago

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• — MY SHORTS DONT HAVE LACES — •

PAIRING(S): theodore nott x fem. reader !!

WARNING(S): smut

SUMMARY: Hermoine is aware of y/n’s feelings toward theo, therefore when she gets the chance, hermoine makes it her job to get them close to eachother

A/N: i hope you enjoy this and check my most recent post with tom riddle please show it some support 😭🙏 (this is edited)

——————————————————

You and Hermione were in your shared dorm, getting ready together for the pool party thrown.

You put your matching black swimsuits on and put your hair up so that it doesnt get wet from the water.

“Hermoineeeee” you sigh. “Is- is uhh is, is theo gonna be there?” You ask hesitantly.

Hermoine had always been aware of your feelings toward theo and she made no effort to stop teasing you about it.

“Ugh, y/n, yes he is” she spoke as she rolled her eyes.

“Do i look good, should i tie my hair or keep it in a claw-clip like this? Omg idk what to do i feel so ugly. Should i change this swimsuit?” you complain

“Y/l/n, one more word i swear. You look gorgeous, ur perfect. How many times do i need to tell you that?” She said.

You jump into her arms before she could finish, “god hermoine i love you” you say.

“Yeah i know bla bla bla bla, now we have a party to get to and boys to impress” she winked before dragging you out of the room.

You get to the party and ur eyes immediately begin scanning the room, in search of theo. In no time you spot him, sat in the hot tub with cormac, harry, ron, ginny, and luna.

Hermoine notices your intentions and grabs your hand leading you to the hot tub, “hermoine, no, im not ready yet!!” you sigh.

“too bad” she says before jumping in the hot tub. “shoot, y/n, there’s no more place for you, but im sure theo would be more than pleasured to keep you on his lap” she giggled.

You and theo didn’t hate eachother, you weren’t friends either. However, there was always tension between the two of you, even Neville could catch it.

He patted on his lap, gesturing for you to come over “c’mere” he said. You drag ur feet in the water and adjust ur sitting on his lap.

Looks and smiles exchange between everyone in the tub and you begin to feel the tension form. Cormac, next to you, starts talking about his previous experience with the ladies and other stuff.

And while ur listening, trying to act interested in whatever he’s talking about, you feel something poke from under you.

You also feel theo’s hands wrap around ur waist from under water which makes you let out a loud gasp, loud enough for the people in the hot tub to hear at least.

Everyones heads turn around to you, “sorry guys, thought i saw a bug” you laugh it off and all ur friends go back to their conversations.

The poking from under you only got more annoying, so you turn ur head, “theo, the laces of ur swimsuit are poking me, can u do something about it?” You speak.

“Cara mia, my shorts don’t have laces” he whispers to you, you could feel his breath on ur ear. “Fuck theo” you say.

He looks at you and then says something again “i say we get out of here darling before i can’t control myself anymore”.

You immediately jump up, and theo follows you. “If you’ll excuse us, we have some business to manage” he jokes pointing at the both of you.

“Get out of here man” Ron laughs.

“God please no” this, from Luna.

“Off you go” hermoine says smiling.

Theo then grabs your hand, two towels, and starts leading you back to his dorm. On ur way there, he wraps one of the towels around you, making sure you’re not cold.

When you get there, the Slytherin boy wastes no time locking the door and smashing his lips onto yours, immediately also allowing his tongue to slip in.

The kiss was not sweet, it was slow yet passionate and hungry. The boy was practically eating your face off while he has you pinned on the wall.

In a sudden movement, theo slips his hands under your thighs and carries you up into his arms. He carries you to his bed, the kiss ongoing, and makes you lay there.

He wastes no time unclasping your bikini and sucking on your tits. Your fingers meet his hair and you start tugging at it as he sucks on your nipples.

He leaves kisses on your boobs and cups them while he moves back up to your lips, also removing your underwear. They meet again and this time the kiss is faster, deeper, and hungrier.

“I- i.. fuck” he says in between kisses.

“Mhm?” you wonder.

“My friend down there, fucking hell, he needs attention.” the boy explains.

You laugh and start working your way, trying to remove his shorts. He turns over making sure to provide you with enough space to take control.

You make your way down, leaving kisses down his ab lines. You slowly lower his shorts and begin trailing his v line with your fingers.

You then remove his shorts completely and for a second, you are taken back by his large size.

His wet, throbbing cock was now inches away from your face. You begin by licking his tip, slowly and carefully before taking him in all in one go.

To that, he gasps, his hands then move to your head guiding you, he grabs onto your hair and leads you.

He even makes you gag a few times when he hits your throat, which you pinch his thigh for that.

You speed up your movements as you wanted to be the one to make him cum first, and you wanted to be the one that makes it happen faster.

“Cara mia” he spoke. “Im gonna.. soon. Im gonna.. fuck”.

You mumble a quick mhm as you speed your movements.

“Fuck you’re so good at this”. he praised

You smiled to yourself before he finally came on your mouth, he squeezed your hair as he released.

You move back up to him and stick your tongue out to show him you swallowed it. You then start kissing him again, slipping your tongue inside, his hands wrapping around your waist.

“You know ur actually gorgeous, youre so perfect. A goddess i swear” he said as you were sat on his lap, staring deep into his eyes.

“Tell me something in italian” you ask.

“Hmm? Something like what ehh?” he smirks.

“Anything” you smile.

“Well.. ti scoperò finché non potrai più camminare.” he said in a whisper.

“And that means?” you wonder.

“I’ll fuck you till you cant walk” he spills.

“Oh is that so?” you giggle.

he nods and then you give him the look of affirmation before he slams into you, which makes you let out a gasp before adjusting yourself to his size.

You then start working ur hips in sync with his, riding him while his hands roam ur body, touching every bit of skin he could get his hands on.

“Fff.. fuckkk, you look too good like this” he praised. “dannatamente perfetto”. (fucking perfect)

you smile and in a sudden movement, he flips you over so hes in control, he starts speeding and you grab onto the sheets for dear life.

He leans in and kisses you, you moan into his mouth and his swollen tip hits your spot, the one that sends you to the moon and back.

“FUCKING HELL!!” you scream, “THEODORE IM GONNA CUM”. He speeds up his movements and guides you as you release.

“è stato fantastico, bellissimo” (that felt amazing, beautiful) he spoke slumping on the bed next to you.

“You really gotta start teaching me italian so i can understand what ur saying” you chuckle.

“Oh yeah? What if i dont want you to understand what im saying” he teased.

“Uhh oh, we might have a problem then” you both laugh as he hugs u tightly, kissing ur temple.

#theodore nott #theodore nott fanfiction #slytherin #slytherin boys #harry potter #lorenzo zurzolo #theodore nott x reader

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meowpupp · 9 months ago

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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."

#mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny mctavish x reader #johnny x reader smut #johnny x reader #soap x reader smut #soap x reader #johnny spap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader smut #johnny mctavish x reader smut #pupjohnny x pupreader #pup!johnny x pup!reader

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jujutsubaby · 8 months ago

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🍒 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.

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indigovigilance · 8 months ago

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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,

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

#good omens meta #bullet theory #the final fifteen #crowley #aziraphale #good omens gabriel #good omens muriel #good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #good omens theory #good omens speculation #good omens analysis #good omens clues

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kremlin · 3 months ago

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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.

youtube

(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.

#w #words

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daryltwdixon · 2 months ago

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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? And where’s his pop? The thought makes you wince; you pray he’s not at the camp. 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

#daryl #daryl dixon #daryl fanfic #daryl fanfiction #daryl one shot #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl twd #twd daryl #daryl dixion imagine #twd fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfic

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marcspectorstannie · 3 months ago

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❢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

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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."

#marvel #marc spector #steven grant #marvel cinematic universe #moon knight comics #moonknight #moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant smut #steven grant headcanon #marc spector x reader #marc spector headcanon

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dailydegurechaff · 8 months ago

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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

#not a daily post #it’s kind of disheartening to see over a years worth of effort on this blog reduced to the assumption I’m not the artist #like… does this person think I’m just a reposter? I don’t get it #also #did you know? the first repost of that drawing is the second most upvoted post of all time on the subreddit #it was an uncredited repost because of course it was #yeah. maybe I *am* salty about it. sorry

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 10 months ago

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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.

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