#like will I ever wear this shawl???

[alsoanyways]

I love to give a character a prop

[vypridae]

"he's going to watch something dumb, xanzen do you want some content??" "SOMEBODY SEDATE ME!!!!!"

[beatcroc]

what kind of frivolity would you engage in, mecha?

<

---

[dutybcrne]

Kaeya has a habit of stealing and hoarding little things from people he loves. Small seemingly innocuous items going missing at random? Chances are, Kaeya is behind it.

[supercantaloupe]

i have better opinions than everybody else in this audience and it Is a competition

[twinktosterone]

why do homework when you can start knitting lace instead 🤡

[off-brand-adorabbit]

I can’t wait to finish this collar for a second time so I can wear my cape again. I was tired of seeing it lurking unfinished in the sock drawer

[rooksamoris]

💞 — 𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒.

💞 — in which professor divus crewel is down bad for his spouse.

💞 — divus crewel x reader

💞 — warnings: none really, just fluff and ace and deuce being ace and deuce.

💞 — around 700 words!! not very long, but yk it came to me when i should have been writing my essay (due tomorrow) since that card came out. ive been hella offline, my cousin had a malwi (yemeni bridal party) yesterday, and the wedding is tomorrow, and my other cousin is in the process of having engagement parties all throughout july--hope you enjoy!

“No way you get bitches,” 

“What was that, Trappola?” Crewel shot a glare at his student who was staring at the picture on his desk.

The picture was of him and his spouse, looking very happy. He looked relaxed in the picture, his arm draped around you while you held his face in your hands and kissed his cheek. The best part was that you were dressed in one of his designs, looking ever so elegant in the fur shawl over your shoulders.

Ace stiffened up and was sent a concerned glance from Deuce, “Uhm, nothing… sir,” he quickly corrected himself.

He could not help it—all the time he spent in Professor Crewel’s class was filled with a certain strictness that he did not think anyone would find appealing. The redhead glanced at the picture again, before back at his professor.

Deuce was sweating, praying to whatever was in the sky that he would not get caught up in whatever trouble Ace would be in. He almost wanted to shake some sense in his dormmate.

Crewel drew the silence out, just for the sake of intimidating his students a little longer before his brows softened. He would not do anything further wreck his mood, not when the love of his life would come over and share lunch with him. He sighed, raising a red gloved hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I’ll let it slide this once, pup.”

The cyan-eyed student visibly slumped in relief.

He handed each of them their corrected worksheets. They both had detailed notes written in the margins on what they could do to improve. He pointed out how Ace could use his skills in Magic Analysis and apply them to Alchemy, and gave Deuce examples that could make more sense to him. He was a strict professor, but that did not mean he was a bad professor. He knew his rowdier dogs could improve—he expected them to. He laid out the resources, they just had to use them.

“Thank you, professor!” exclaimed Deuce, bowing his head in respect as he held the page to his chest. Deep down, he appreciated his professor's willingness to correct his work so thoroughly.

Ace nodded, as if sharing the thanks with Deuce, before following his classmate out.

Things stayed quiet before you burst through the doors, carrying lunch bags with you, wearing that smile he loved so much. Your clothes were a bit of a mess, but when were they not? You were always running about and doing something.

Crewel stood from his seat, a softer grin on his face as he stepped forward, his arms reaching out to adjust your outfit. Gentle hands tugged at the collar and fixed your mixed-up buttons, “Now, I wonder what circus you just returned from,”

You laughed and leaned into his touch, “Just the kitchen, nothing too crazy, Divus. I made raisin butter and homemade bread,” you told him, excitedly.

His thumb brushed over some flour left on your cheek, “I can see that much,” he muttered before he moved to your side and slid his hand down to the small of your back, “Come sit,” he said, guiding you to the seat across from his desk.

“You saved me from another lunch spent playing chess with Mozus,”

“Oh, come on. You act like spending time with him is a chore,” you replied, reaching into the bags to set the food on the desk for you guys to share.

He carefully moved his things out of the way, before taking his seat as elegantly as ever, “It’s only a chore when he spends thirty minutes deciding on his next move.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “One day you’ll be just as old and spending thirty minutes buttoning up your vest. When that happens, I’ll remind you of this conversation.”

He let out a little laugh at that. Your joke just affirmed what he always knew, you would be with him forever, even when white became the natural color of his hair, even once his students were visiting him as adults with their own lives, and thanking him for his harshness. He let out a breath of contentment, before carefully cutting the bread you made for him, “How was work, my love?”

[heritageposts]

A Jewish prayer shawl worn by Levi Simon, a British man fighting for the Israeli army in Gaza who filmed himself rummaging through women’s underwear in an abandoned Palestinian home, belonged to a celebrated Holocaust survivor who warned of the dangers of hatred and racism. Social media footage posted in November shows Simon wearing the shawl, known as a tallit, in a building in Gaza. “This tallit I am wearing belonged to a Holocaust survivor by the name of Zigi. I am right now inside of Gaza writing ‘Am Yisrael Chai’ to make sure nothing like this will ever happen again,” Simon says in the clip, drawing a Star of David and writing the Hebrew phrase meaning “the people of Israel live” on the wall. According to the accompanying text, the tallit was donated by the family of Zigi Shipper, a survivor of Auschwitz-Birkenau and other Nazi camps from Lodz, Poland, who moved to the UK after the Second World War and died last January aged 93. But a close friend and fellow survivor told Middle East Eye he believed Shipper would have been "astounded and upset" to learn of the way in which his tallit had been used in Gaza. “He would have been as heartbroken as I am because neither of us imagined anything like that would be witnessed by us,” Manfred Goldberg, who met Shipper in 1944 when both were working as slave labourers at a camp in modern-day Poland, told MEE. Asked whether he would have been concerned by the conduct of Israeli forces, Goldberg added: “How can you ask such a question? Who is not upset? Zigi was a very outspoken person. He made a lot more noise than I did. He would have been beside himself.” [...] “Zigi and I had an unbreakable bond because of our experience in the camps. I know him better than I know more or less any person on earth,” said Goldberg. In his later life, Shipper was renowned for his decades of work promoting awareness of the Holocaust in countless talks to schoolchildren and through media interviews. In 2017, he was among 112 Holocaust survivors whose testimonies were recorded as part of a United Kingdom Holocaust Memorial project. “I want young people to know, especially young people, what happened because of racism and most importantly, hatred,” Shipper has been quoted as saying by the Holocaust Memorial Day Trust.

and, more on what simon has been posting . . .

In one clip, Simon waves an Israeli flag in a school where, he says, “they teach terrorism”, adding: “We’re here, we’re here to stay, we’re not going to take your terror, and they’re going to start teaching Hebrew in this school soon." In another clip, he says he is going through “terrorist houses” looking for guns and explosives and then opens a drawer and starts pulling out and displaying women’s underwear, which he describes as "exotic lingerie".

. . . full article on MEE (26 Jan 2024)

[sp0ng3art]

i've been seeing a lot of people redesign the mane 6 and i wanted to take a crack at it. ponies brought me to tumblr so i guess it's going back to my roots lol

lil notes

my sexuality/gender headcanons for em are as follows: twi is questioning but knows she likes girls and guys, pinkie is pan, rd is a lesbian and sometimes uses he/him pronouns, applejack and rarity are both lesbians, and fluttershy is transfem and aroace!

fluttershy's bracelet was made by pinkie; the colors have faded over the years but it used to be bright pink, blue and white (it was a coming out gift)

rarity's glasses are held up by Weird Horse Magic. shhhhhhhh

even though applejack is the tallest in terms of posing, fluttershy's actually the tallest. rd and pinkie are tied for shortest

rd chopped most of her tail off because she figured it'd make her faster. that's her natural mane color, she frequently dyes her hair in various version of the 5 color rainbow

i gave twilight little ballet flats because i though it completed the "cozy nerd" vibe i was going for; her colors are a lot warmer to match the twilight time of day

pinkie is absolutely a raver. cmon she's the party horse

granny smith made applejack's shawl and she wears her mom's hat with her dad's bolo tie on the drawstring (or whatever the adjustable thing on a cowboy hat is called lol)

rarity and applejack are a couple. they are the lesbian aunts who buy you way too many christmas presents

twi and pinkie have a kind of will-they-won't-they thing going on, pinkie is largely oblivious to this and twilight is not subtle about her crush

rd and fluttershy still have known each other since they were kids, rainbow was the first person fluttershy ever came out to before she transitioned

[daryldove]

Trick or Treat

daryl x fem!reader

age gap, commonwealth era

The Halloween fair is a success. After weeks of tireless planning, you could finally enjoy the festivities yourself. You dressed up as a devil, horns and all with a tight fitting, red satin dress. A black shawl drapes over your shoulders to ward off the incoming chill.

You're crouching to help someone pick up their coins when you hear Judith call your name from behind, followed by RJ and Daryl. A smile forms on your lips at the sight of her, only growing when you spot the archer. You were positively whipped for him.

You dust yourself off, standing to greet them. “Hey guys. Are you a witch, Jude? Very cute.” 

“I'm supposed to be scary, not cute!” You giggle at Judith's whining before turning your attention to Daryl. He looks tired lately, but still as handsome as always. You notice him in your peripheral glance at your cleavage before looking away. His cheeks have a slight red tint once you face him.

“You look good.”

He scoffs, face betraying his obvious self conciousness, “I'm not even wearing a costume.” He's so sweet, you wanna squeeze him. The contrast between his rough appearance and unexpected shyness was something you've always adored. “You always do.” He avoids looking at you altogether as you specify. 

Your attention turns back to the kids. “Have you guys had a candied apple yet?” That's all you had to say to get them to run off, leaving you and Daryl alone. Getting a private spot altogether is gonna be much harder, though. You ask him to walk with you, and he obliges, ignorant to your plotting. “I haven't seen you around much recently. You been busy?” 

He grunts in response. “Haven't seen ya around much either.” So he was watching you too—the thought made your chest tighten.

“More planning goes into these events than you'd think. Gonna be pretty free after, though.” You bite back a smirk at how he looks at you, as if he's searching your expression for a deeper meaning. An invitation.

You see the moment he finally comprehends you actually mean it, but he just shrugs, looking a little lost. He’s afraid, you realise. Maybe even a little insecure. Any urge to tease or subtly flirt flees from your body. 

“What's wrong?” You turn to him, eye softening at his hesitance.

“How old exactly are ya?” He chews his bottom lip like he's nervous to hear the answer. Oh, so that's it. He's hesitant about the age gap, or maybe uncomfortable with how others would view it. Truthfully, you didn't exactly know how old you were, you stopped counting since the apocalypse, and you know he probably did too. There was a big difference between you though, that was obvious. You weren't naive or stupid, you knew how it would look to others. 

“The age difference doesn't bother me.” Clearly, that's the wrong thing to say because he just replies with an exasperated huff. But he doesn't let go when you intertwine your hands with his, or move away when you lean closer. His eyes reflect a deeper story—he doesn't want to care either.  “Ya really don't mind?”

“No. Actually I…” you can't believe you're about to admit this out loud, “I think it's pretty hot. And I don't care what people say, either, as long as we're happy.” Daryl's expression is unreadable, and you worry for a moment that you were too honest.

But his hand squeezes yours, and a reluctant chuckle leaves him. “Hot, huh?” You playfully shove him with your shoulder. As embarrassing as that was to admit, you didn't regret it. Despite how he probably won't ever let you live it down.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 2)

Lucifer/Reader

Rated E for the smex coming next chapter I SWEAR. ((Also there will not be any non-con in this fic, so please don’t worry. You’ll see when you read.))

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

Tag Requests: @loslox, @for-hearthand-home, @navierkalani

‘The worst thing they could be are swingers.’

Your heart was racing, and you felt ridiculous for how uppity you felt at the prospect of having dinner with your two elderly neighbors. 

Normally, meeting new people would cause a healthy amount of anxiety in you. You’d grown up into a recluse and upholding social niceties took most of your energy. It was even worse to be in their home, and among people that you likely did not have much in common with. 

These were personal reassurances that you told yourself after denying the first invitation for dinner with the Farrows. The guilt you felt, paired with the subsequent relief of not having to spend more than five minutes with your chatty neighbor, stirred an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

Of course you’d been unable to stop thinking about what a wretch you were, how karma was going to bite you on the ass for denying an old couple some company. 

And oh Karma did come back to bite you. Hard. 

You felt like you were hanging by a thread at work. Three weeks into the job and you’d already been reprimanded. Even the memory of your supervisor looking down her nose at you from the other side of her desk made your eyes water. 

“We have a ‘three strikes’ policy here. I’m afraid this will count as your first.”

Never having been fired from a job notwithstanding, you felt like the idiot your parents always purported you to be. 

If you’d have just stayed in your hometown, living off your parents’ good graces and kept your head down, instead of prancing out the door as if you had self-respect and no need for a safety net… 

Maybe things wouldn’t be so dire. 

Maybe you wouldn’t be on the verge of having a panic attack at this very moment, feeling the anxiety and restlessness from declining the previous invitation tenfold. 

With a deep breath in and out, you crossed the hall with the hesitance of a mouse approaching a snap-trap. You knocked on the door to Unit 606 with a shaking hand.

There was a moment left to blanch at the realization that you hadn’t brought anything with you. Like the shittiest, most thoughtless guest ever.

——

“You made it!” Mrs. Farrow held her arms out dramatically. “Come in! Come in! You’re right on time! Oh and you look lovely dear!”

“Thanks.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks as the door closed behind you. 

The layout of the apartment was a mirror image to yours, but you were overwhelmed by just how much stuff had taken up the space. From the kitchen to the living room, the apartment was brimming with kaleidoscopic color. Antique statuettes of unknown deities, handcrafted vases and sculptures in-set with gems and gold filigree, expertly framed posters of old Hollywood, and Persian rugs beneath well-worn furniture were visible from just a cursory glance. 

It distracted you from the unusually bitter, earthy smell that assaulted you upon entering. 

“Wow,” You said in genuine awe. “Your home is lovely.” 

“Aw, you’re too kind sweetheart. Too kind. Here, let me take your shawl - we’ll hang it up on the rack here, see.” She took your cardigan and placed it on an old hat stand before steering you out to the living room by the back of your shoulders.

There was a man sitting in a leather armchair adjacent to the couch. He was wearing a tweed jacket and his silver-blond hair had been combed back finely to show a pale, wrinkled face and eyes so dark they shone almost black in the lowlight. 

He looked at you with interest once you’d finally caught onto his presence, and opened his mouth to speak.

‘Quack!’ 

“Lou!” You laughed as the duck came racing over on its little legs. 

Without delay, the bird climbed onto your flats with an impatient flap of its wings, trying to balance while looking up at you adoringly. 

You couldn’t help but reach down and pat his little head, murmuring ‘hellos’ and ‘how you doing buddy?’ softly and sweetly. 

The man opposite you both smirked. “My wife was right. He’s quite taken with you.” 

“I’m always right!” Mrs. Farrow called out from the kitchen. 

You looked to the kitchen and back to, presumably, Mr. Farrow, an uncertain smile on your lips. 

“Welcome to our home.” The elder man’s voice was almost hypnotically deep. His hand was outstretched and waiting. “Please excuse me for not greeting you properly. When you get to be as old as I am, your body does everything it can to make you stay put in one place.” 

You shook your head. “Oh no, please don’t worry about it! I understand.” 

Mr. Farrow’s smirk seemed to soften as you spoke. 

“Please make yourself comfortable, my dear.” When he gestured to the couch, you awkwardly shuffled to sit down. Lou was right on your heels, loathe to spend even a second without your warmth. 

The duck ended up snuggled on your lap after begging to be lifted as you sank into the plush sofa. And you were grateful, hugging Lou to you gently as if he were a plush toy. 

It helped take your mind away from that spine-tingling feeling when it made a comeback — the way Mr. Farrow’s eyes glittered when he looked at you and his duck. 

‘Oh god, they probably are swingers. And they lure in their targets with this crazy well-trained duck.’ You thought, punching yourself in the face mentally. ‘And you fell for it. Walked right into their den of debauchery. You stupid bitch.’ 

“Here’s some water, honey. We’ll save the stronger stuff for dinner.” You jumped in your seat when Mrs. Farrow appeared at your side, setting a glass of ice water down on the end table beside you. 

You reached for the glass as its contents sloshed over the edge. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Farrow.” 

Mrs. Farrow beamed. 

“What did I tell ya, Warren? Isn’t she lovely? Just a peach. Lou is smitten.” She patted your shoulder. “And it’s Cassie, honey. Call me Cass.”

“You were right, Cass.” Warren Farrow intoned. 

He took on a conspiratorial tone as he addressed you once more. “You must know, my wife hasn’t stopped talking about you since you met the other day. I wondered if she was preparing us for a new roommate.” 

Heat flooded your face for the second time. “Aw.”

“Oh poo, as if you wouldn’a done the same.” Mrs. Farrow sniffed derisively. “Dinner in 5 minutes!”

Her exit left room for you to start a conversation, but you couldn’t find it in you to say anything. Mr. Farrow kept staring, smiling, which made you stroke Lou’s feathers for comfort that much more. 

The silence lasted a little while, save for the clinking, crackling, thudding from the kitchen dining room. Aside from catering to Lou, you surveyed your surroundings in an effort to avoid bouncing your legs.

The Farrows didn’t have a TV, only a large fireplace that they’d positioned their furniture around. There were displays on either side of the grate. On one stood an oversized chalice with intricate, swirling patterns. The other had a statuette of a goat-headed figure sitting crisscrossed on a throne, one arm poised to reach out to the sky.

“Baphomet.” 

You turned from the sight, head swiveling to face your human companion. He was eying you keenly again. 

“O-oh, the statue is…?”

Warren nodded. “Baphomet. Conceived as a false god around the time of the crusades. Most people see him as a depiction of Satan these days.” 

The association wasn’t too far-fetched, you figured with another look at the figure. Its goat-head and large horns were the most eye-catching thing about it. 

“I apologize if the sight upsets you, dear. I hadn’t thought to remove it before your arrival.” 

“Oh no, please. It’s alright.” You said. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s very interesting.” 

The rumbling hum at your side seemed to signal approval, or maybe general geniality with your neutral response. “Are you religious by chance?”

You turned to Warren again. 

“Ah, no.” You replied apologetically. “I grew up in a Christian area, but I was never very involved with the church.” 

Warren nodded. “That’s just as well. The institution and its practices can be stifling. I was never very involved with it myself.” 

“Religious artifacts have always been fascinating to me, however. There’s no shortage of temples and synagogues in this world.” 

“Have you been to many? For the history?” You were genuinely curious. 

The old man nodded again, stately and dignified even as he puffed up in his armchair like a peacock. “Cass and I are seasoned travelers. We’ve been to all 7 continents at least twice, seen the wonders of the world from the Hindu shrines in Malaysia to St. Basil’s Cathedral. I have a particular fondness for those countries surrounding the Mediterranean Sea. I was able to convince Cassie another trip to Rome wouldn’t put us in the poor house last year.” 

Your little huff of laughter was sincere, though the idea of traveling to Rome - or anyplace outside of the familiar - sounded amazing. “I’d love to be able to do that.” 

Warren’s head tilted to one side. “You’re quite young, I’m sure you’ll get the chance if you haven’t already.” 

“Sure.” You scoffed before immediately falling into contrition. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me —”

“Dinner time!”

Mrs. Farrow hollered from the kitchen, stopping you from trying to come up with a suitable excuse for yourself. 

Luckily, Mr. Farrow chuckled good-naturedly. He rose from his chair stiffly, legs visibly straining. “No need to apologize, my dear. But we best get going before the Missus comes out and drags us by our ears.”

——

All things considered, the dinner was perfectly fine. 

The jitters never left your frame, but you had chalked that up to a simple byproduct of your skittish nature. The red wine that Cass had insisted upon you made you feel warm and solid, at least. 

As did the fact that Cassie Farrow could hold entire conversations all on her own with very little effort or input from yourself. 

“You got a boyfriend, honey? Or girlfriend? No shame in that at all. We may be old but by no means bigoted. We’ve been all over the place, seen so many things - what’s natural to you and me could be the furthest from, in certain places. Isn’t that right, Warren?”

“Men in Ancient Greece often had relationships with other men.” Warren replied. “Royals in Europe had extramarital affairs with different sexes. It was all about keeping the bloodline pure, but romance was a different thing altogether.” 

“I haven’t dated in a while, actually.” You said. “It’s not been a priority.” 

Cassie nodded, exuberant as she drank from her wine glass. “That’s good too! Plenty of independent women these days! It’s about time, I say.” 

‘Quack quack’

Lou was beside you, red eyes locked in as he gazed upon you at the dining table. It made you giggle.

“Mm!” Cassie had a spastic moment. “I almost forgot!” 

The chair lurched out from under the old woman as she rose and scuttled out of the room. It left you blinking, and out of the corner of your eye you saw that same smirk on Warren’s face before his wife had returned. 

She had a small wicker basket in her arms. 

“This is for you, honey. Housewarming present from your kooky neighbors across the hall.” 

As she drew nearer, you caught a glimpse of the contents, some of which shone beneath the light of the overhead chandelier. 

“Thank you! You really didn’t have to.” The basket was pressed into your arms and Cassie was back in her seat before you’d finished your sentence. 

“Nonsense. It’s the least we could do. I still can’t believe no one welcomed you for a whole week!” 

The basket was lined with shredded filler, and nestled in between were little gemstones and crystals.

“There’s jade and ruby in there, and I believe there’s moonstone as well.” Mr. Farrow recalled. “Is that it, Cass?”

“Yes, yes, and carnelian too. It’s all scattered about there, with the Scrabble and the socks and the hand cream and oh!” Mrs. Farrow laughed. “Forgive us honey, we saw that little rubber duck and just had to get it for you.” 

There was a little rubber duck. It was a novelty type, with a tiny red jacket and a tiny black top hat. 

“It’s a carnival barker. No, it’s something like that. It’s on the tip of my tongue.” Your nose scrunched in thought. “Oh, a circus ringmaster!” 

“Exactly! See, what’d I tell you, Warren? She loves it!” 

“I believe I was the one who suggested it.” His voice carried through the otherwise silent dining room. 

“Oh well maybe it was, so what. She likes it. Don’t you, honey?”

“Yes, but…” You felt funny again. Tingly. “This is too much. Really. You’re both so kind but I can’t accept this.” 

A hand laid gently on your shoulder and you looked up at a frowning Warren Farrow. “It’s no trouble at all, my dear.” 

“The cost must’ve —”

“No cost, really. Gemstones and crystals are quite popular these days. You can find them all over. And the little trinkets are just the same. Given to you in good faith of course.” He patted your shoulder gently. 

You swallowed, eyes once again roving over the little mundane treasures. Silken feathers brushed against your ankle under the table and you met those red eyes, sparkling like the crystals in your basket. 

Lou was such a funny little thing. So expressive, he looked as if he were waiting as he stared at you. 

So funny. 

… You felt funny. 

Perhaps the anxiety from before was doubling back, just like that prickling sensation. It was less of a tingle and more a shiver or chill as you sat there. 

“I think it’s about time for dessert, don’t you?” Mrs. Farrow was saying somewhere far away. “You like chocolate, sweetheart? I made mousse, all fancy-like. It’s not as fancy as the kind you get at that restaurant downtown, the Ivy, but they’ve got fancy ingredients and such…” 

Reaching up to wipe the sheen of sweat from your forehead, you felt heat coming off from between your temples. With a shaky breath, you slumped down in your seat. 

The basket was gone. 

Your chair was scraping against the wooden floor as it was pulled out from the table. 

“Are you feeling alright, my dear?”

Wrinkled hands swept the hair from your face as your eyes rolled in their sockets. Words couldn’t get past the cotton-dry feeling in your throat. 

“It’s the wine, the wine. Said she’s not much of a drinker, it has to be the wine.” 

Cass’s voice was dampened and thick, like it was trapped underwater. 

Or perhaps you were trapped. Your head was spinning, limbs heavy as if you were a puppet sans strings. You had to be picked up from under your arms like a toddler and pulled upright. 

The next second you were walking through your neighbors�� kitchen, the door held open for you. 

“Maybe we oughta call a doctor? Honey, can you hear me?”

“I… yes. I can hear you.” It felt like an Olympic feat, but you spoke clearly. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s happening.”

You stumbled against the wall and strong arms caught you when your knees buckled. It was Mr. Farrow allowing you to lean on him, solid as a rock. 

“Cass is right, you had quite a bit of wine.” He said. Another pat to your shoulder.

Did you? You could’ve sworn it was just a glass. 

Your apartment was barren and blank, the smell of laundry comforting against the memory of that earthy incense smell. 

“Get some rest, honey. We’re right across the hall.” 

“Thank you.” You breathed, lying on your sofa bed. “Again, I’m very sorry. Thank you for the welcome.” 

“Oh no, thank you.” 

——

When you opened your eyes next, you were shrouded in darkness. The outline of your entertainment system was in front of you, and the kitchen at your right. 

It was raining outside; little raindrops smattering against the glass. The sound was normal, no longer muffled until you were straining to hear it. 

‘Well that’s good.’ 

The heavy feeling in your arms was still present. 

‘That’s not so good.’

You felt perfectly sane and hysterical at the same time. It was like being caught in the eye of a storm. The danger had abated momentarily, but would begin again shortly. 

Your door opened, and in your peripheral you saw a shadow cut across the wall as a new figure emerged from the hall. 

You squinted in the dark. ‘Lou?’ 

The duck’s silhouette stilled as if you’d spoken aloud. You could feel something shift in the air, tension breaking through to your mind when it could not seize your body. 

That shift grew stronger, sucking in the air around it until a dazzling flash and crack of light blinded you. 

Lou’s shadow was gone. Or… it had changed. The shadow on the wall wasn’t a duck anymore it was… 

Your blood ran cold as the man stepped into your apartment and let the door close behind him. 

“Hello there!”

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hiiii

Can you make another Alastor x Rarity reader like I love it sm and I need more 😭😭❤️

If you do thank youuuu

I definitely can! My dear @sillyalastor, here will be yours and @nenerobobot’s post for Rarity-reader and Al! I hope you both like our kinda short follow up to the Radio Demon and his Drama Queen!

Alastor- Diamond Trio

Alastor knows how much of a detail-orientated and fussy woman you are, and he knows fashion colours, stitching processes, habits, facts and more on the top of his head. He knows what is considered eggshell white and what is considered ivory white. That’s how much time he spends with you

Alastor has been teaching you some new recipes, ones that get a bit messy. Whilst, you’re very worried about getting food on you and is wearing about five layers of protection each time you cook with him. He finds it cute and cheers you on for you being so precise and careful with the measurements. You’ll stand there for five minutes making sure the water percentage is just perfect and he thrives off that

Alastor is not a fan of you being friends with any of the Overlords except Rosie, so when he finds out, you befriended a fellow fashionista Velvette. He is supportive of your wishes but he is glaring down Velvette and threatening her behind your back to not hurt you or he’ll hurt her. Needless to say… Al’s protective and he doesn’t tolerate any of your friends trying to ruin your spirits or your work

So that means, if anybody rejects your outfit choice and creation you made for them, even politely. Alastor will hunt them down. You’re generous and you should be praised for that generosity. Alastor takes everything you give him, if he doesn’t like it, he’ll merely ask for some additions. He won’t ever demand a new outfit or item

Now. How did you and Alastor meet, you ask? You met him at a grand gala. It mainly consisted of Overlords but a handful of Sinners were invited and you were one of them, brought into this ‘incredible’ party

Alastor had been quite intrigued by you, the moment he saw you. A gorgeous, classy, sophisticated sinner dressed in the most pretty, regal maroon pink dress he has ever seen. You had attended this ‘best night ever’ party in hopes to find your prince, the man of your dreams and when you ran into a prissy but handsome Overlord that screamed prince-like grace, you immediately latched onto him. Unaware that you’re actual prince is the one Overlord all the guests avoided like the plague

Alastor couldn’t bring himself to just ignore the only shining jewel within this boring, prim and proper high-class party. He was so uninterested that he only got entertainment out of talking to his dear friend, Rosie. So after some careful yet quick consideration, he begun to follow you and your… date around the large palace hosting this gala under the cover of shadows. He was curious on what you’d do and the disgust he felt over this Overlord acting so uncharming and so harsh to a sweet lady such as yourself. He doesn’t tolerate women of radiance being disrespected

Alastor is so glad that you finally put your foot down after all the treatment: that ‘Prince’ of a Overlord making you pay for treats, making you give up the cushion seat, taking your rose for himself, making you throw your gorgeous silky-fabric shawl over a puddle so neither of you would slip. No gentleman should treat his lady this way and his blood is boiling in pure disgust at his fellow Overlord. The final straw is when that Overlord used you as a shield to block off the pretty strawberry icing cheesecake that came flying at the pair of you

Alastor watched from the sidelines with much pride and respect, over you talking that Overlord down and proclaiming he is a royal pain but of course, that ‘prince’ only cared about his looks and was scared of you drenched in the cake. Shaking off some of the cake on your dress, hair and face to get it onto the Overlord, out of raw rage. You ended up stomping out of the main big dance ballroom, furious and on the verge of crying. Leaving that ‘date’ of yours behind

Alastor couldn’t stop himself from following you. He was curious how a pretty mid-atlantic accented lady would handle being humiliated and having lashed out against her ‘date’ in front of almost ALL of the guests in the Gala. Your pretty sparkly almost diamond-like eyes poured tears, smudging your nice mascara and light blue eyeshadow as you stomped into the pretty empty gardens and cried out your rage

Oh. Alastor didn’t like seeing somebody so innocent and done no wrong mistreated like this. Even if it was amusing, he doesn’t like it

So, he finally approaches you after a few seconds of watching you vent out your feelings through sobs. His strong sharp crimson red eyes going from your forehead golden crown to the glass plumps to the still damp shawl tied around your shoulders in a classy princess style. You’re the most beautiful guest at this sorry excuse of a Gala. Alastor folds one arm behind his back, his own gala-style black, white and red coloured suit making his red and black colouration pop as he presents you with a rose

“I believe this is yours, my dear” Your glassy eyes turned over to look at him, the almost folded, multi-layers of your dress hugging your curves and hiding your leg movements as it just felt like this night went from the worst to the best. Is this the actual gentleman you’ve always wanted?! Gently reaching out, you’re a bit intimidated by how strong his glare is, how visible his golden yellow fangs are through that wide open grin, with how menacing his long fingers are

Taking the still stemmed rose from Alastor, you didn’t even know his name but you wished you did… you are a bit scared he may be a fake like that awful Overlord you were chasing after just before but he seems friendly enough. Alastor lifts up your hands with his single one, precisely placing the rose into your prettily curled and tied up hair, just above your bangs before speaking once more. His entire presence leaking charm, grace and poise

“Shall we dance?”

You were a bit shy, still drenched in destroyed layered cake batter but Alastor didn’t even chuckle at how ruined your clean, neat look is now. He merely snaps his fingers and like that, all the sweet confectionery remains are gone and all the ruffled, ripped or knotted parts of your dress and hair is smoothed out to perfection, as well as your slightly wet shawl back to being completely dry and your makeup returned to more presentable. Just like how you looked when you entered this Gala and when Alastor first saw you. Taking a deep breath, your cheeks flustered and blushy

You take his hand and with a single tug, you and him are dancing together in the calm, breezy, beautiful gardens of the giant gala palace, no music, no other prissy annoying guests. Just the plants, the animals and you two

Your eyes are no long filled to the brim with tears, anger and heartbreak. You’re now developing a sense of admiration and awe at Alastor being so gentlemanly and sweet with you in seconds flat, he’s treating you the way you wanted that blueblood ass to treat you and it’s making your heart flutter. Twirling slowly in a nice slow steady waltz, the only music ringing is the sound of the nearby birds singing

That night was the best night ever

[vesperaink]

Friends, my necromancer!Tango/grimreaper!Jimmy, Team Rancher modern with magic apocalypse AU, Graveyard Shift, for @mcytblraufest's Reverse Big Bang is here!

But wait there's more--go read chasing crimson written by @aliferous-ly, beta'd by @dibs2win, my fantastic team for aufest. If you love enemies to lovers, unlikely partnerships, and the power of soul-bound magic weapon contracts, this hilarious + dramatic 22.9k fic kicks off from this comic!

chasing crimson

Jimmy Solidarity works for the esteemed god of Death, reaping lost souls and taking care of unsavory characters. He's recently finished his training, and is determined to do well on his first solo mission. Perhaps this "Tango" would be a good start. Only, the god of Death disappeared years ago, and Necromancer Tango Tek's long since discovered a way around dying. He can't say he enjoys Jimmy swinging through and killing him where he stands, though.

Thank you to my team for being as feral about this AU as I am, and kicking everything about it up to 110. I had so much developing this world with them!

Thanks to @onawhimsicot for helping me with the comic's dialogue, fixing my composition woes with "just add more smoke," and encouraging me to complete it in full color! Check out Cadence's aufest fic, I take it back (ill follow till I fly or till im dead), a Cult of the Lamb AU about follower!Tango and Lamb!Zedaph, the meaning of devotion, silly experiments, eldritch transformations, and...the most platonic slowburn ever?

Lastly, thank you to the aufest team for another wonderful event! I had a blast again, and was giggling kicking my feet at everyone's reactions during claims, I loved every single one of them. Graveyard Shift is definitely an AU I'm coming back to. As always, my askbox is open if you'd like to chat, and I'd love to be tagged if anyone makes anything <3

Timelapse / AU art chatter under the cut!

While Graveyard Shift is the amalgamation of many of my interests, the main premise for this AU is loosely inspired by the webcomic, I'm the Grim Reaper, in both its apocalypse themes and its aesthetics! Not a required read, but highly recommend if you enjoy this au, as well as the anime and manga, Soul Eater!

I came up with a lot of AUs for this event but necromancer!Tango and reaper!Jimmy have been rattling around in my brain in separate AUs since before I started brainstorming for aufest. So I smashed them together, naturally.

(Unfortunately I didn't record all of my process, but most of it is here! CW for flashing; song is Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene by Hozier)

I could go on forever about concept art and character design if anyone's curious but here's some fun bonus details about this comic:

Originally, Tango's outfit was going to be more like his Dungeon Master outfit but I wanted the setting to be more modern and Jimmy stole the fantasy cloak vibe from him already lol

Jimmy's entrance of lightning is my nod to the Life Series final death sound

The scarf Jimmy's wearing is designed to be a boneyard shawl

The panel of strange text reads "Protection Three" in Galactic :)

+ The name "Graveyard Shift" was thrown at me by Cadence in like 3 seconds flat after i spent 2 days agonizing over a name for this au LOL

[fandomaddictwut]

Some student at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters: Mr. Logan, you’ve been alive for a long time, right?

Logan: Sure, kid. Since sometime in the early 1800’s. Why?

Student: Is there anything you miss from back then? Not like a person, y’know; we all miss people. But something you thought was gonna be around forever, or at least a long time, and it just isn’t now.

Logan:…what?

Student: Y’know, like a place or an animal or something. Maybe a food or a kind of transportation or a style of clothes or whatever. What’s something you miss from the past that’s not an individual person?

Logan: Oh my god. I…never really thought about that.

Logan: Um…passenger pigeons were pretty cool, I guess. I liked steam trains. Not great for the environment, but they were pretty neat. Also, old-school bananas tasted way better than whatever tf passes for bananas now. And Yellowstone before cars was…indescribably beautiful. And hand-knit socks and mittens? So comfy, but I don’t know anyone who does that anymore.

Student: Aw, shit. There was so much cool stuff. And it’s all, like, gone now. :(

Logan: Sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to be a downer. Just…the world’s a lot different now. Not bad; just…different.

Student: …Yeah. I mean, healthcare is way better now, so I’m glad I live in the present. But that stuff…I’m sorry I missed it.

Cut to that student learning how to knit/sew/handicraft and making Logan and the other teachers and students handmade gifts. They’re not really good at first, but they get better and more intricate as the years go on.

Logan gets a pair of gloves with little button holes made for his claws to go through without ruining them. Storm gets a beautiful lacework shawl. Charles gets so many hats with pompoms and wears them with pride. Jean loves her infinity scarf, and Scott is so ecstatic over his little fair isle patterned earmuffs. Remy gets a playing card themed cropped sweater, and Rogue squeals with delight when she gets the softest, most beautiful pair of gloves she’s ever seen. And everyone gets custom hand-knit socks, even Kurt (that’s when the student first got into pattern creation: not a lot of two-toed sock knitting patterns out there, so they made their own).

Idk, just…fluffy x-men learning cool stuff about the past and keeping it alive in the present, just because.

[honeyshiddendesire]

Virgin! Doflamingo Headcanon

Pairing: YANDERE VIRGIN! Doflamingo x Female Reader

Warnings: YANDERE DOFFY! loss of virginity! Vaginal penetration! Fingering! Dirty talk/teasing! Pussy drunk Doffy! mating press! Oral sex (male and female receiving)! Public sex! Misuse of d.f. Powers! Doffy with a Praise kink (fight me on this lol!) 

*Author's Note: An idea that popped in my head while chatting with my friends on discord that I finallllyyy got around to posting lol*

*banner*

VirginDoffy! Who was so focused on murder and overtaking the whole world that he completely forgot about sex all together…well forgot is a strong word more like it just never interested him. Sex wasn’t something that was in the forefront of his brain, murder and destruction, power, things like that. 

VirginDoffy! Who enjoyed stringing women up and fingering them till his heart was content, using them more like puppets to hear their cries but finishing the job never interested him. Well not with the women in Dressrosa or other kingdoms yet. 

VirginDoffy! Who was sitting on his throne one day when it suddenly dawned on him that he’s never actually sunk his cock into a woman before. Usually getting bored rather quickly before he ever actually fucked them. That all changed when he saw you one day strolling along in the streets of Dressrosa. 

VirginDoffy! Who you can’t tell me wouldn’t be a total yandere following you around the city, not talking to you yet but silently observing your every move. Having a woman peg his interest in this way was new afterall so he’d literally become a stalker. You wouldn’t notice him at all but everyone else around you would. 

VirginDoffy! Who would pay attention to your everyday routine and how you always get a morning tea or coffee with your favorite muffin. Going early to pay your tab in full for the next month leaving you in total shock but he was left more stunned when you still went out of your way to leave a tip. WHICH! Made him go back and tip for the next month as well hoping you’d get the hint to save your money.

Paying attention to how you eyeballed all the fancy dress shops and shoe stores with longing in your eye before sighing and going to the bargain shop on the far side of town. 

VirginDoffy! Who literally follows you home and goes back when you’re not there to rummage through your things finding out who you are and what size you are instead of just holding a conversation with you. 

VirginDoffy! Who goes back to all the stores you stop at and buys you all the prettiest dresses and shoes that you tend to stare at from the window. Leaving them at your door with flowers and a card that tells you to meet him at one of the best restaurants in the entire kingdom.

You think it’s a secret admirer and smile as you pick up the beautiful dress and twirl in your room with excitement. Getting all dolled up wearing the gifts you head out toward the meeting spot with a big smile on your face, glossy lips dropping in shock when you finally step inside the extravagant place. “Right this way your table is waiting for you.” The host says with a bow as he takes your shawl and leads you to the far back with a reserved sign, close to the stage where a live orchestra was playing Sad Romance by Thao Nguyen Xanh. It was one of your favorites and you sat down in your seat totally mesmerized barely noticing when Doflamingo came up behind you. 

“Is it all to your liking?” He asks, catching you off guard with a little gasp that makes him smirks. “Oops~” Doflamingo chuckles as he circles the table taking his seat. Your glossy lips catch his attention as they’re parted slightly in shock at seeing none other than Doflamingo himself. “Y-yes it’s all amazing. I just…” 

Raising a brow as he takes a sip of his wine that the waiter quickly poured upon his arrival, “Wasn’t expecting me?” He questions and you simply nod, making him grin. “What can I say…you’ve caught the eye of a King.” 

VirginDoffy! Who asks you tons of questions while wining and dining you, noticing how nervous you are and tending to ramble because of it. A trait he found oddly endearing. Simply giving you little hums and nods of acknowledgment as you ate. 

VirginDoffy! Who asks you to dance as the violin and pianist continue to play. His hands and eyes roaming all over your body in the tight fitting dress, his actions making your breath hitch and body heat up. Doflamingo’s hands are already holding you with a possessive touch that makes you practically melt in his grasp, eyes staring in awe up at him. 

VirginDoffy! Who despite never having sex he can tell by the look in your eye that he has you completely trapped in his sinister web, one that you’ll never escape from once he’s had you. 

VirginDoffy! Who’s hands slowly trail down your back to your ass as he leans down to whisper in your ear, “Would you like to accompany a King back to his chambers?” The question makes you shiver as you whisper back a shaky ‘yes’. Quickly leading you out of the restaurant after that and into his limo where he wastes no time crashing his lips to yours. 

Your hands wrapping around him to scratch at his scalp, tongue swirling around his in a clumsy kiss. You thought it was all the wine but little did you know the true reason behind his bewildered state. Doflamingo was groaning into your mouth as he pulled you into his lap, the smell of the perfume he purchased you was loud in the close proximity and it made his head spin. The strong floral, sweet scent smelled so enchanting on your skin that he couldn’t help but groan as he trailed sloppy kisses down your neck making you whimper. 

“Um…sir…we’re here.” The driver nervously interrupts and gets a glare of Doflamingo and a loud ‘out’ that makes him scurry away leaving the both of you alone. “Ah~” You moaned out as you felt Doflamingo grind into your hips, feeling his rather huge bulge through both of your clothes. 

VirginDoffy! Who’s so enraptured by pleasure and your scent that you literally have to tap his shoulder to get his attention. “D-Doflamingo~ Can…can we go to your room?” You whine as he continues making your head spin with each kiss that travels lower towards the valley of your breast, his large hands gripping your ass. Hearing your request and seeing the look of lust on your face only has him grin as he kisses at your jaw. 

VirginDoffy! Who can’t help but warn you of what was to come. “You know once I have you in my room I can’t ensure that you’ll be leaving anytime soon.” His grin only grows as you tell him you understand, greedy lips finding your own at the sound of your equal eagerness. “Oh my poor dove~ you don’t even realize the cage that you’ve flown yourself into.”

VirginDoffy! Who leads your heaving form to his room, your hair and gloss already a mess just from an intense makeout session. 

VirginDoffy! Who once in his luxurious room wastes not even a second to literally rip your dress off you. Pushing you down on his large plush bed making you squeal in shock at how quickly he spreads your legs. Kissing up from your legs, long fingers running along the sparkly heels that adorned your feet as he spread your legs more into a vulnerable position. 

“Already soaking this pathetic lace you’re wearing.” Doflamingo chuckles against your thighs, nipping the skin before sucking marks into your plush thighs. Trailing up slowly before using one of his hands to push your panties to the side before diving in to take a long lick at your cunt. 

VirginDoffy! Who has zero skills at eating your cunt but wasn’t stupid and knew to listen to every little reaction that you made. Any hitch in your breath, moan or whimper you let out only fueled the large man’s ego to dive further into your cunt. Long tongue working wonders to fuck into your sopping wet hole, circling around making your back arch as he sloppily kisses your aching clit. “AH~ Dof~Holy shit!” You cry out barely able to moan out his name as he sucks on the sensitive bud harder. 

VirginDoffy! Who’s hands literally can’t keep still. Running up and down all over your body, squeezing and groping your tits to run down your waist to pinch and claw at your thighs before moving back up with hunger. His tongue never gets enough of your taste and only eats your pussy with more fire in his chest. Never understanding how he hasn’t done this before when you sounded so sweet in his strong grasp. 

VirginDoffy! Who was starstruck when he finally started to sink his long fingers deep in your dripping pussy, tongue never letting up on your clit even as you pulled at his blonde hair. “Do~ah~Dof-fuck~!” His name dragged into a curse from your lips that had him grin wickedly, tongue flicking your bundle of nerves to drive you insane.

 “Oh fuckfuckfuck I’m gonna cum~ Doffy shit! How are you so good at this?” Your moaned out question has him pulling back with a sinister laugh as he also wonders the same thing considering he’s never done this before. Doflamingo’s greedy eyes looking down to where your wet pussy is swallowing two long fingers of his, your hands gripping the sheets beside your head. Your legs were trembling, heels digging into the plush blankets as you thrashed around. Screams only turning to a loud shriek as he curled them into that spot that made you gush, his brow raising at the magnificent sight. 

VirginDoffy! Who can’t help but lean back down, licking you completely clean with a luscious moan at the taste of you. Pulling down his pants to hungrily crawl up your body kissing your skin up along the way making you breathe heavier. 

VirginDoffy! Who is way too big for his own good and once he's dipping his long cock inside you needs you to literally beg him to stop or he'll keep going. Drunk on the feel of you wrapping around him until your nails are drawing blood from scratching at his chest so hard. 

“Shitshitshit too much too~ fucking much! Dammit just wait!” You cry out not even aware of how much blood you drew from the man, eyes blurry from tears. His body shivering at the pleasure wrapped around his cock and the stinging pain of your nails. Doflamingo’s breath is coming out in huffs as he leans down to suck marks on your neck, his fingers clawing at the sheets for some type of self control to stay still but it only lasts so long. “I’m not a man with much patience.” He’ll tell you, making you whimper as you feel him grind into you. 

Sucker punching the air out of you as he rocks into you with unskilled hips, is cock so big it did all the work for him. Doflamingo went on pure instincts and pleasure, kissing your body and stringing your legs up to stay wide open for him. Long cock pounding into you until you scream out his name for the whole kingdom to hear.

VirginDoffy! Who immediately grows addicted when you cum around his cock, needing to feel it over and over again. Your pussy gushing around his cock as he pumps you over and over full of his seed. 

VirginDoffy! Who mentally wishes he traps you forever with his child so you never leave the man. Your slumped form lay on his bed alongside with him both breathing heavy as his mind raced with thoughts of what to do with you the next round when he has gathered the energy again. Now that he’s had you don’t think you’ll be able to run. Like a bird you’ll be forever caged to quench his ever growing lust.

“Don’t think you’ll be able to leave me now my dear. It seems I’ve grown quite obsessed.”