#save it on ur calendar

[ask-the-chief-prosecutor]

What was the day you were sworn in as chief prosecutor like? Was Wright there?

“It was… a day. Very cold for a December in the Japanifornia area, especially considering the ceremony happened outside for public viewing.

Phoenix and I had reunited back in October, so he, Trucy, and Apollo were present.”

[cerubean]

it's been raining nonstop in brindleton bay...

[deus-ex-mona]

i miss her…

[s7toru]

my exams are finally over, we all cheered !! unfortunately i am tackling moving apartments now so tcnm updates are still inconsistent 😞 please don’t give up on me ….. theres also a spiderman fic and zombie fic in the works so stay tuned for those 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

in other unfortunate news wtf is going on in jjk manga and why is it ending in five chs should we all js die

[tr4ggot]

my life has been forever changed since someone on twitter said that playing their sims save files on long lifespan (with suuuuper long individual life stages through mccc) totally solved their problem of getting bored with saves

[dilf-docs]

The Rock N' Roll Got Harder and Softer

eddie brock x younger fem!reader

summary: common sense isn't really your strongest suit. so here you are, riding a stranger's bike on halloween night. hey, he saved you! with one hell of a costume, no doubt. because it has to be one, right?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (do we see the blog name? get used to it), smut, flirty reader! she's got no shame just game ++ also overshares (sorry if this trait is mischaracterizing you, everything will be okay❤️) praise kink, oral f. receiving (have u seen that tongue? ik its abt eddie but venom's tongue plays a part there... he defo going in my hear me out cake), does this count as sub!eddie idk?? the man is touch starved, p. in v. (use protection okay!! don't be like these dumb horny bitches), reader gets harrassed but the lethal protector saves the day!!

word count: 5,008 words

side note: i was re watching venom 1 and watching venom 2 since my friends want to see the third, so i got the tom hardy and his plump princess lips have to be mine virus!! like i wish i was kidding but after watching the movies and the top 100 dilf poll on twitter i felt in the need to use my hands (iykyk) ++ after finding out i have a pattern for lonely fucked up dilfs (first with old man logan now eddie). also, irdgaf halloween just passed; let's pretend ur calendar got stuck on the 31st as u read this. also, this can happen after venom (2018) but the time isn't really important!

This is stupid.

It's a cold october night, the wind blowing in your face, and you're navigating this part of the neighborhood you don't know in nothing but a skimpy red bathing suit, like it's a hot summer day.

Dressing up as Pamela Anderson in Baywatch sounded much better a couple months ago; not now, when all the people passing by ogle your body up and down, whether it be with lust or judgment.

Your night has gone to shit: you feel cold, hungry, tipsy and vulnerable. One thing is wanting to be objectified by the possible candidates you would take home from the party, and other is being eyed by strangers who look at your body like hungry wolves.

You finally spot a mini-market amid the packed street, blue hues of light providing some sense of relief.

After getting something to drink and eat, you'll probably feel better and have the energy to walk home; there's no way you and your very small costume are getting inside an uber at ten o'clock tonight.

The bell chimes in as you enter the store, but the lady behind the counter doesn't even glance your way, focused on the TV behind her.

"Hi" she waves her hand absentmindedly, "Do you have any water?"

She mutters something that sounds like an annoyed of course we do, and points to the freezer in the back, still without looking.

"Alright, thanks" you say, walking to the freezer section and grabbing a bottle you chug until it's almost empty. You're still hungry, but at least your throat doesn't feel like you've eaten sand anymore.

With the bottle in your hand, you take the time to scour around the store, looking for something to eat. You finally decide on some chocolates; heck, it's halloween. Going home and stuffing your face with a bunch of candy for what's left of the night does sound nice.

You finally spot the chocolates on a display, moving towards it. As you're about to grab a bunch and go, another hand interrupts you.

"Oh!" you exclaim out loud, stepping back.

Maybe you're haven't gone trick or treating in years, but you will treat yourself tonight. And not with the chocolates. There's a God out there, definitely, who has blessed you not only with great curves but also with the chance of showing them off in the precise moment.

"Sorry!" your voice chirps a bit too excited for your liking. Control yourself. You clear your throat, suspecting the burn in your cheeks gives you away.

You're supposed to be confident! Flirty and charming! You're young and pretty! But how can you not be nervous when the stranger looks like that?

The eye candy who sports tattoos and a bad boy aroma that makes you drool; the jacket and beat up look just adds the perfect layer to the whole vibe. You're known to have a preference for men who look like he does. Something about the dangerous makes your heart race and skin prickle. Then your eyes travel to the motorcycle helmet in his right hand. Yummy.

The heat in your cheeks returns.

You don't even know his name, yet you've oggled him up and down without shame. It's probably all the pent up energy you had saved for the party. You figure it has to be invested somewhere else. Maybe with him.

Him, who's way older than the other guys you've been with. But that just just makes it even better.

"It's okay" he speaks up, and his voice is not only what you imagined it to be. The rich grave undertone is making your panties wet just with the sound. "You go first"

He points to the stand full of said treats. You motion forward, not without putting some extra sway and effort in your walk. By the reflection of the mirror in the corner, you know you've at least got his attention.

"Done" you say, leaving some space for him to pass. "Would the gentleman give me the honor of knowing his name?"

"I'm Eddie" he extends his hand, "Eddie Brock".

You shouldn't be this excited to shake a hand but when his large palm engulfs yours, you find it hard to let go.

With the closeness, you take another look at his face, getting lost in his warm eyes and the eyebags that adorn them. It's unfair how good they suit him; unlike you after a wild night out.

"Nice to meet you. Very nice, indeed" you purr.

You also make sure to bat your eyelashes in a way your friends tease you but has proven to be effective every time.

It seems to have done its magic, because he also takes a look at you.

But it's different.

You can sense something else is happening when his eyebrows furrow first, then face contorting into a disgusted expression as Venom says: I want to eat her, Eddie. I bet she tastes as sweet as she sounds! It's too tempting!

"Shut up" he mumbles (but loud enough for you to hear), then mutters something like We're just supossed to eat the bad guys! but you're confused and hurt, so you don't really pay attention; your ego really taking a blow tonight.

"I beg your pardon?"

Eddie curses under his breath, "that wasn't for you".

"Right" you chuckle dryly, looking around at the empty store. "Don't see who else that could be for"

"I'm sorry, it's hard to explain" he rushes the apology, looking rather embarrassed. "Now, if you excuse me".

And walks past you like it's nothing. Maybe that weird spark you felt was just on you; the interest isn't mutual.

"Hi Mrs. Chen" you hear him salute the lady behind the counter. Sighing, you grab your chocolates and head to cash out, adding another deception to your already bad night.

The bell chimes again when you make your way to the line, behind Eddie, but this time, you don't bother to look.

"Well, hello" the voice behind you says. It takes you a few seconds to realize they're talking to you.

"Hi" you mutter a bit annoyed, looking at the front. The silence is dense, the beep of each of Eddie's (million) of chocolates being the only silence filling the store.

"Won't even spare a glance, doll?" they continue, despite your clear apathy. "C'mon, lemme see if that face is as pretty as your ass"

Blood rushes to your face, and you're so embarrassed your body stiffs, fully aware the other two people in the store have noticed. You hug your body, because there isn't really anything you can cover yourself with right now, not daring to look back.

Well, fuck me.

If you thought leaving the party was going to solve your problems, it's only proven to cause more.

Eddie finishes, leading to your turn. You give a strained smile to Mrs. Chen, and she just gives you a look of pity.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" they start to get irritated, and you just pray they don't follow you outside once you're done. "Are you deaf, Pamela?" he mocks, making your blood boil and skin sweat.

Mrs. Chen is done, but the stranger isn't taking your silence as an answer. Before you can leave, they grab your hand.

"Already leaving? You haven't even given me your name yet"

It's such a silly thought to have right now, but you realize you hadn't given Eddie your name either.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but she's clearly not interested, buddy" a voice speaks out, and you know it. It's probably the panic but you hadn't realize Eddie's still here. You hold his gaze for a few seconds, and even thought you hate having to depend on a man to be left alone, you need his help; so you plead, boring into his warm chocolate eyes.

"In case you haven't noticed, this is a two people conversation" the stranger snarls.

"Looks more like a one sided conversation to me" he bites back, making the stranger mad. That's the last thing you need. You just want to go home and curl under your warm and soft blankets; you've even lost your appetite.

"It's none of your business. Are you not understanding?"

"Oh, but that's the problem. You're the one that isn't understanding" what appears to be black surrounds his before bare neck, and you feel like you haven't completely sobered up, your mind playing games with you. The black engulfs his whole body, making him taller and more intimidating.

"It is" he threats on a distorted voice. Now, where Eddie's face used to be, another one replaces him: with white instead of two eyes and a big mouth with teeth and a really long tongue.

You hadn't even drink that much. No way this is real.

The stranger gulps, petrified. Oh, so they see it too; it's not you.

"Sorry, idiot. The lifeguard shift is over" and before the stranger replies, his head dissapear inside the mouth, chopping it off.

"Fuck!" you curse out loud, the body falling limp at your side.

A shiver runs through your back. This is a nightmare.

"Well, now that makes us two who know your secret now" Mrs. Chen adds in a rather monotone voice, and you wonder if people have gone insane―you included.

You can't even speak. Less when the black starts dissappearing, and it's Eddie's face and body again.

"Hey, sorry about that" you don't know who Eddie is talking to when saying that. "You okay?"

Okay? Sure, that you are. Fine? Not really.

"It's alright if you're scared" he reaches out to you but you flinch. He looks used to it, apparently, "I know this is weird".

You chuckle, bemused. "Weird? Not even in my wildest acid trip, I could've imagine that"

"It's easy to explain, but hard to understand" he begins, but trails off. "Would you, uh, let me?"

Well, he had saved you. If he wanted to eat you and have you go the same fate your harasser did, he would've done it by now.

Besides, common sense isn't really your strongest suit. Never was. You've had so many problems stem from it, including tonight's events, that you could probably write a column or do a podcast of it.

"Sure" you agree, "as long as you don't eat me".

You regret the (attempt at a) joke as soon as it leaves your mouth, but that is gone when you hear him laugh. A little pride fills your chest, especially at the velvet-like sound.

"I won't" he raises his palms in a playful manner, "but he wants to".

Not anymore, you don't eat the people you save!

"He?" you quirk an eyebrow, "you better rush that explanation, yeah?"

"Sure" he chuckles, "uh?"

"Y/n" you answer, and the honeyed tone is back. God, you need to get a grip. This guy could snap you in, "but just for tonight, Casey Jean Parker. So you better put some good use to it before she leaves, cowboy"

"Will take it into account, blonde" he laughs at your hair.

You hate it because it reminds you of Anne, pussy.

"Hey, it's a good wig!" you playfully slap his shoulder. "You wish you had hair like this".

You flip it, to which he just laughs. Then he bids goodbye to Mrs. Chen and you both head outside, where the wind hits your body cruelly.

A curse leaves your mouth, "Shit"

Eddie notices. Before you can react, he's putting his jacket over your shoulders.

"You got the seasons messed up, baby" he jokes, the pet name rolling off his tongue a bit too easily, "don't even think about taking it off; don't want you to catch a cold".

There's a beat of silence before he asks:

"So, about the costume..."

"I know" you properly put his jacket on. It smells like him: pine, gasoline, sweat and a bit of chocolate. "It sounded better when I came up with it in August"

"No!" he corrects hastily, then coughs "I like it".

Light pink creeps up his cheeks.

"Good to know I still got the charm" you joke, winking.

"Was this" he points with his ringed fingers up and down, "for a contest?"

"No, a party. Jesus, how old do you think I am?" you chastise in a mocking tone. "It's what pretty college girls do, Eddie: party".

Venom likes parties! I like her, Eddie!

"And if that's what you do, pretty girl" two can play the game it seems, "what exactly are you doing out of the water, Ms. Parker?"

You scoff, shocked. "You're supposed to give me your answer first".

Fortunately for Brock, you have a bad habit to overshare; it gets worse, especially with men. God knows you don't know such thing as boundaries.

You lay against the concrete wall, exhaling. Your worries condense in front of you as Eddie waits attentively, examining the way your face falls.

"I was supposed to go to a party today, hence the costume" you motion to your body, "but things went wrong".

"So you went?"

"And left" you add, "which wasn't part of the plan".

He lays next to you, crossing his arms. You try not to get distracted with the closeness.

"Why did you?"

"Leave? Because... well, things happened".

Your skin prickles uncomfortably, like it did back at the house you ran away from―the whole reason you're here, next to Eddie.

"That thing being...?" Brock presses, then realizing you probably don't want to tell, so he shuts up.

"Don't worry" it's like you guess his thoughts, "It's just... sort of embarrassing".

You breathe in some air.

"He wasn't supossed to be there. My ex" you clarify, "yet he went. And guess what? With his new girlfriend! And alright, I'm not a girl who holds grudges, but it hasn't even been two months since we broke up and now he's matching costumes with her?"

Saying it out loud sounds a tad bit childish, but Eddie doesn't seem to be judging, and your pride continues to be bruised, so you carry on with your little rant.

"So I drank a little too much and went up to them. I don't know what took over me, but one second I was dancing and then Pamela Anderson in Baywatch was grabbing Pamela Anderson as Tommy Lee's wife by her hair. Real blonde hair, on top of that... that bitch. I decided to be Pamela Anderson first! Which, by the way, would never do that. She truly is a girl's girl" pause, "by that I mean parading around with the guy I ended things with because of you"

We should eat them.

Instead of what Venom said, Eddie asks:

"Your boyfriend cheated on you?"

"Yeah" embarrassment washes over you, "The owner of the house is friend's with her. So, I decided it was for the best to leave. My not so bright idea that followed was to walk to the nearest store for some junk and head home. And now I ended on this side of town I don't know. Lucky me"

Lucky us that found you.

"Wow" Eddie manages to muster after all your information dump and Venom's little comment, "they're idiots. I'm sorry".

"Thanks, but my night is still ruined" you take a look at your legs, "now I have to walk home, and I suspect, bare―without your jacket".

He doesn't know what takes over him when he says, or maybe it's Venom giving him the boost of courage he needs.

"Need'a ride?" your face morphs into surprise. He adds, "Keep my jacket. That way you can give it back when we're there"

Your eyes trail to the bike parked on the side, which you guess belongs to him. This is hard because the decision is so easy.

Hey, sometimes you gotta do it for the plot!

"We both win" is his way of insisting. "No more stares, and my jacket gets express delivered to me".

You don't need that much insisting, almost instantly caving in, walking over the bike and hoping behind him―like you know he'd never hurt you; full on trusting him.

"I don't have a spare one. Use mine" he apologizes, handing you the helmet he carried before.

"Thanks" you accept, "at this point I'll have to pay you. Do you accept my chocolates? It's all I got with me"

"We'll discuss those arrangements later" his deep voice comments, and well, you might just give him anything he wants!

Before you can regret your life choices, the engine roars, Eddie making his way through the street, all your surroundings reduced to a blur.

"Woah!" you shout, but it gets lost in the wind and speed. Luckily for you, the wig is secured inside the helmet. At this speed, there would be a blonde mop on the street somewhere.

"Liking it?" he asks over the noise. You only can happily humm in response.

Honestly, you've never felt this... free before. It's liberating: your hair dancing in the wind, the crisp trepidation in your fingers, the way you dare yourself to let loose and let the experience consume you. It's the first time you truly feel alive.

All you can think now is on the adrenaline coursing through your system. That and the way you're holding onto Eddie's thick back, your arms caging his form. You can feel his heartbeat too, as steady as yours. You can't help but wonder if it's because of the ride or the passenger he's carrying in the back.

You keep giving him directions whenever he looks back, keeping it like that until you both arrive at your apartment complex.

Once the bike is parked, he whistles. "Nice. Much better than mine"

You give his helmet back, taking the wig off in the process too.

"I'll have to see it to believe it" you tease, and if he heard, Eddie pretends not to.

There's some silence until you understand it's over: the original "stuffing and watching horror movies until I sleep" isn't sounding as good as extending your time with Eddie. For some reason, you can't seem to let go yet, and accept that tonight was a rare occasion that will only be once.

"Well, I guess this is it" you hate the way the obvious disappointment drips in your tone, "thank you, Eddie. Goodnight"

You hop off and take the jacket out of your body. If your skin gets goosebumps, you'll blame the cold.

Guess Pamela Anderson didn't work her magic tonight.

"Wait!"

Or maybe she did.

"Yes?" you turn around, smiling a bit too much.

Eddie doesn't look at you when he says, "we didn't discuss the payment"

Your red lips purse into a smile.

"We can discuss the details inside" and point out your apartment on the third floor, "for the cold, obviously. It's warm up there, you know; I've been told they like my heat"

You finally recognize the feeling from before, at the store. It's mutual. The tension; it still lingers.

"Sure" he says sounding all but that, "show me the way".

Your voice drops as you say, "Follow me, then"

And you lead the way: wet spot in between your legs, growing as your excitement. As you open the door, Eddie can't help but think the inside is so you: sweet and girly―like a strawberry bubblegum.

"Like what you see?" you joke, sitting in the couch. It has double meaning, obviously, but Eddie is so oblivious he just answers:

"It's so... you" mentally slapping himself when he says it, "I mean... you know, pink"

Idiot! She's talking about herself.

You giggle, "And?"

Patting the empty spot next to you, Brock walks over, like in a trance. You can see him gulp―nervous, the adam's apple on his throat bobbing.

Coward! Say something.

"Pretty..." he breathes out.

His hand finds its way to your bare thigh, and the touch is so electric, it takes you a lot not to jump at the contact.

Now kiss her!

"Don't be scared, Eddie" your voice is so low he swears he's dreaming. "I don't bite" there's a pause before you add, "unless you want me to".

Do it!

He would be lying if he said Venom is the reason why he leans forward, wrapping his lips around yours. Why he suddenly feels hungry, starving, eating your mouth out like he hasn't had a meal in days is beyond him.

"That's right" you moan between kisses, "cash your pay out, cowboy".

His hands tug on your hair as he deepens the kiss, a few groans echoing around the apartment.

"I like it" he twirls a strand in between your fingers, "suits you better".

There's a hearty laug emitting from your chest, "you do? Show me then"

It's like something snapped inside of him.

His hand moves to hug you from behind, right at the bare spot the swim suit had.

"You smell so sweet" Eddie's inhaling the vainilla scent off your soft skin, and Venom growls in pleasure, "like a pastry".

You have to laugh again, because this man is clearly touched starved.

Now he's rubbing his nose along the length of your neck, leaving some wet kisses that have you swearing his tongue isn't human. He mumbles incoherences like he's drunk, begging he wants to shove his mouth where it belongs: that being between your legs, to taste what he’s been craving for so long.

"Well, if you want it so bad" you make a play at his earlier words, "eat it".

So with trembling hands, he's pushing the little piece of bathing suit until your clit is exposed. His other hand grips your hip, and it doesn't take that long for him to fall onto his knees, the pink fluffly carpet on the floor providing some ground.

He beggins to toy with it, leaving you to collect a gasp. Alright! He has experience. Not that you ever doubted it, but now that he's here, his fingers inside of you, you can't help but feel the luckiest girl in the world.

"Thought the sweet you wanted was some chocolates" you manage to joke between moans, his thick fingers too busy lubing the needy area.

He gets another moan out of you, "this is better" grabbing a finger out, he licks a bit of your essence left on his fingers, "tastes much better. Look at you, so wet already; good girl"

Now he's doing tight little circles, his thick fingers speeding up the pace―quicker and quicker, until you're writhing in his grip. Your red nail dig into his forearm leaving little crescents. The haze may be too much that you don't know if the way they instantly heal is something you imagined or not.

"P-please, Eddie" you mewl.

Let me try, Eddie.

Without explaining, his tongue begins licking your inner thighs where your liquids dripped. It sends a shiver down your spine, and God, how thankful you are about leaving the party. The consequences of your petty fight and disastrous little adventure didn't end up being so bad.

"Sweet" he exclaims in that distorted voice back from the store. Your eyes go wide, so he rushes an "I'll explain later".

He doesn't give you much time to dwell on it before his tongue finds its way to your core again: the muscle licking the wet folds of your sensitive clit before diving fully. You swear his tongue has gotten longer with the way he explores your warm insides, quickly finding the spot no one but yourself has correctly pleased before.

Soft sobs fall from your lips. "Yes, More! P-please!"

His tongue continues its ministrations, almost lazily against it. Your body tenses up, reacting to him so well, and the familiar warmth pools in your abdomen.

He keeps licking until you’re twitching in over-sensitivity. A groan escapes his drooling lips, "I'm still a gentleman, you know?" the vibration his voice makes in between your legs sends a delicious wave that does nothing but ignite the fire pooling in the low of your stomach. "Ladies first"

You deliciously cum on his awaiting tongue. Even in your haze, you find his eyes, and the previous warm brown looks closer to hungry now, his pupils blown wide.

"Go ahead" you encourage, "be a good boy for me and taste it".

His fingers lick your remains off of them, his tongue making an obscene display.

"Will you let me pay you, now?"

He doesn't even need to wait, his hand eagerly taking his cock out of his pants―taking the sweat pants out in record time, sliding his girth between your legs, rubbing it against your folds that give him a warm welcome, coating it in your wetness.

Eddie slides inside you with ease, his hands resting on your waist as he slams his entire length inside you. The couch creaks, the only other sound in the apartment your hiss, because of the initial stretch. He gives you time to adjust and then he starts moving. 

"Y/n, God. You pretty sweet thing" his hot breathe mumbles against your ear.

Never in your life you would've thought you'd gone home with a complete stranger, but by the way Eddie Brock is deep inside you right now, you may do it more often. Or even better, bring him back. Maybe meet his apartment next time.

Eddie thinks he's gone insane. He's never had sex like this before. Not even on his wildest dreams. Hell, doesn't know if it's the lack of activity before you, your filthy mouth dripping with moans or the way you perfectly wrap around him, or maybe his newfound stamina he could finally put to use, thanks to Venom. Maybe it's all that, but who cares? God, he's loving every second of it.

Eddie uses his hands to grab your ass, holding onto the soft flesh so firm, you'll have bruises tomorrow for sure. He starts pumping you fast and deep like an animal. You muffle your screams against the crook of his neck, fully aware that doesn't stop the paper thin walls from telling your neighbours the good time you're having.

You feel your moves start to get unsteady, your orgasm closer and closer. "I'm c-close" you blurt out and he growls instead of talking. The way your body jolts with each of his poundings is insane. Your friend will never let this go if you tell them. But it just feels so fucking good.

"Fuck!"

Your whole body shakes when the wave of pleasure heats you. His hand is suprinsingly soft, caressing your cheek as you rest your forehead against his to catch your breathe.

"That's the best sex I've ever had" he confesses, his voice sounding drunk. Every drop of alcohol in your system has completely vanished by now, but you feel dizzy too, the overstimulation driving your senses to it's limits.

But it doesn't make you stop.

"How can you rate something that hasn't finished?" you move your body so Eddie stays against the coach. When he realizes what you're trying to do, he half-supresses a moan. "If you want to give your opinion, you better finish the whole plate".

So now you're on top of him, riding his cock like nothing; you must also have a symbiote inside of you, because Eddie can't explain your infinite stamina. So young, so pretty and so goddamn tight; he really won tonight, huh?

The change of position makes his cock slightly change the angle, hitting your g-spot. "Oh my god, right here!" you gasp. Your pussy clenches while you keep bouncing on his dick. If it weren't for the bathing suit, your tits would be bouncing. That doesn't mean he doesn't imagine them, your nipples perking through the fabric making it all too easy.

"You're so perfect" he whispers against your shoulder, "you sweet little thing".

If he keeps calling you like that, you might ask him to stay the night.

You feel like it, so, as a reward, you press your lips against his and he moans at your cunt clenching. He knows you are close again.

"Cum for me, y/n" he demands in his deep voice. Your name in his lips is such an addictive sound, you're sure you've reached heaven.

"Cum with me, Eddie" you manage to say.

So now he sits a little straighter on your poor couch (that's seen and taken only so much) so he can wrap his other arm around your waist. You take him deeper every time, even if now the position makes it a bit uncomfortable, but every shiver of pleasure you get is worth it.

"At least look at me when you do it" his brown orbs bore into yours. You can't hold back any longer, your hips rolling to increase the friction.

Your second orgasm washes over you: toes curling and body shaking. You've never felt more tired and energetic in your life. So you fall in Eddie's strong tattoed arms. He joins you, painting your tight walls with his thick and white shots of cum.

You are both out of breathe but Eddie takes his time and kisses you deeply.

"I think this life guard is out of duty for now" you mumble sleepily against his arms, tracing lazily his tattoos. He chuckles, moving one of his hands to brush strands of your damp hair from your forehead.

"What about the chocolates?" he jokes.

"Fuck them" you yawn, "stay here". He might've heard it wrong.

Stupid Eddie and stupid little human brain. She wants us here!

After some minutes of silence your sleepy voice mumbles, "You didn't explain me anything, cheater. If you want to stay, talk".

He feels you rest your head on his shoulder, sleep taking control of your form. You look so cute, he starts to forget how shitty his life actually is.

Hey! I can hear your thoughts, idiot. Your life isn't shitty anymore, I'm here!

"How about a bed time story? I promise I won't leave any detail out"

You cuddle closer to his warm body, "Promise?"

He intertwines his pinky finger with yours, promising himself this won't be the last time he sees you.

"Promise"

[wisteria-cherry]

(quick lil drabble hi)

(haven’t proofread lol hope for the best)

(feel free to comment + give ur thoughts :)

“he held her”

dad! bakugo x f!reader

bittersweet, pro hero! dad! bakugo, established relationship

when bakugo sees his daughter in graduation robes, bachelor degree in hand, he freezes.

he stares at her, his little girl, and wonders how she fit in her robes so perfectly because he could’ve sworn she was still small enough to fit in her high chair. he remembers it vividly.

bakugo remembers when she had her crib, when she would wake up and cry in the middle of the night as he walked into yours and his and her shared bedroom after a late patrol and how he’d slide his gloves and gauntlets off and put them on the middle of the floor, even though you always chastised him for it. he’d wipe the sweat secreting from his hands on his pants hastily as he walked over to the crib, shushing her quietly so she wouldn’t wake you up because god knows you needed the sleep. he’d pick her up and hold her and hold her, watching her face that had his vermillion eyes and his blonde curls and your lips and nose. he held her.

bakugo remembers when she was new to the world of school and she was playing soccer. she scored a goal, her first goal of the season and the winning goal of the game. he remembers convincing kirishima to cover his patrol because there’s no way in hell he’d miss that game for anything. he remembers when she threw up her hands in celebration and sparks came from them. he nearly cried in pride as she pulled her arms down and stared at her hands in shock. her face lit up and then she immediately looked to her parents. bakugo looked at you. you were looking at him and your expression was just as bright and beautiful as his daughter’s. his daughter ran up to him, encasing him in a tight hug. he held her.

bakugo remembers when she was a teenager and things got complicated. he finally got number one hero. he was consumed by pride and he wanted to keep his position so he can be number one and provide for his family as number one. his daughter decided she wanted to be a hero, too. bakugo started working more, taking on more shifts, staying later at the office. he came home late almost every day. his daughter began to doubt his resolve to spend time with her and her mother. he remembered marking off his daughters birthday on the calendar, determined to make her party to make it up to her, but then a huge office building was under attack that same day and every hero in the area was called to the scene. bakugo missed the party. when he came home, his daughter was crying on the front doorstep. he was at a loss for words. his daughter wasn’t. she resented him. he wanted to hold her. he didn’t hold her.

bakugo remembers his daughter video calling him while he was away on a mission excitedly telling him that she’d gotten into her dream college. he went on many missions abroad and he didn’t remember how but they mended their relationship through video calls and spending time together during the few times he was home. he remembers going home the next day and you and him and his daughter celebrated. he remembers being secretly thankful that the college was close— she’d live at home for college in order to save money, despite knowing that her family had more than enough of it.

bakugo remembers the college years, where she thrived. you would often tell your husband that you saw his work ethic in her— passionate and unrelenting. he took it as a source of pride. he remembers her being in the top of many of not most of her classes. he remembers when she’d come into his office at his agency and do her homework while he wrote reports. he remembers hating her first boyfriend but warming up to him ever so slightly when she pulled bakugo aside and whispered, “please be nice to him, daddy. i really love him.” he remembers the night her first love dumped her and she cried so hard that night. he was going to go straight out the door and destroy the pathetic boy when you grabbed his wrist and he turned around to face your gentle expression. he remembers you telling him that she doesn’t need him to destroy her ex-boyfriend, she needs bakugo to be there for her. so bakugo was. and he held her.

the memories are there, but where did the time go?

“i did it, daddy.” his little girl beamed. “are you proud of me?”

bakugo wants to cry. he tries not to cry. he prides himself on being a rock for his family, being a rock for his girls, wife and daughter. he feels trusted and valuable when you or his daughter come to him in tears and he’s able to diminish them.

but he cries anyway.

and he holds her.

[honeytonedhottie]

NOTION TUTORIAL୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

this is to serve as some little notion tips that i use to make my notion the way that it is. cute and efficient. this is very surface level and i'll get more in depth the more the post goes on. im working on dropping a notion template soon <3

first off pick a color scheme, for me, my color scheme is pastel pinks and whites and soft shades of green as an accent.

u can import photos from pinterest by copying the photo (not the link address, the actual photo) and pasting it into ur notion

take advantage of the columns, when u make a new space click "turn into" and use columns, it'll neatly divide the page

experiment with fonts, i use serif. u can also do large or small text, AND full width pages

making toggle lists saves space and keeps ur page looking super neat and organized

calendars and tables will keep u organized

to add a page ur gonna wanna go to the top left corner and click "new page"

u can import custom icons by going on pinterest and looking up app icons with the color scheme that u want, download that and add it for cute icons, u can also do the same with GIFS

for links and things of the sort embedding the video and adding the link are two different things, embedding the video means that u can access it on ur page (i do this for youtube videos/spotify etc) and when its a link i'll do this for documents and things of the sort

to add titles to ur columns click the "+" button, i use heading 3 bcuz that's the size i prefer but there are other sizes to choose from

a cool feature that notion has is that u can change the background color OR the text color, when u change the background color its more pastel-like if that's what ur going for

to make section dividers click (-) three times to create a divider

[love-toxin]

I’d have so goddamn many of Luis’ babies istg. Resident evil is just zombies with a generous ✨sprinkling✨ of bisexual propaganda

ok ur so right!!!!! but you just put baby fever luis in my brain and now ur gonna have to deal with the consequences also </3

(cws: fem!reader, baby fever luis, pregnancy, mentions of childbirth, breeding kink)

Clearly Luis likes to paint himself as a ladies' man, but unlike the typical charismatic bachelor, he's definitely got one thing holding him back from that luxuriously free lifestyle: when he's with the right person he's got baby fever like you wouldn't believe, and it never really goes away.

It always starts slow with that initial conversation of "so how do you feel about kids?" and a positive answer may as well be a proposal to Luis when it comes to you. He starts making offhand comments about seeing the cutest baby in the park the other day or mentioning that the schools are enrolling for kindergarten this month, and "wouldn't it be nice if we had our own..." like the hints he was dropping before just weren't enough. Because then he's fantasizing about what your kids would look like and even busts out all that research on genetics he's done just for fun, illustrating what kind of genes your children might get from each of you and how adorable they would look with your features put together.

And obviously you get to hold it over him if he's being a menace on occasion. Luis might be bothering you about something or disappearing at random to go play hero again, and all it takes to rein him in is you wondering aloud about whether or not you could really trust him to be a good father. And he'll come racing in with reassurances that he is! He will be! Just give him a chance, mi amor, and he'll show you he can be the best father you've ever seen--if he could figure out how, he would even carry the baby for you just to save you the physical toll of childbirth and postpartum. He wants one so badly but at the same time, he understands the trials and tribulations of carrying a child to term better than most men, so it's definitely not a small ask from him and he certainly acknowledges that.

If and when it finally comes time for you to let him have a crack at knocking you up, Luis is downright methodical about it right up until you actually conceive. He keeps a calendar of your cycle and maps out your ovulation days to figure out the best time to try, starts giving you vitamins and other supplements to take to help boost your immune system ("healthy body, healthy baby, mi vida!"), and Luis even looks into different positions he can try in the bedroom to help the fertilization process. He's almost too scientific about it but it's so cute to watch him pore over those documents and baby books in his reading glasses, making notes and comparing information so he can make it as easy for you as possible throughout the process. He'll do all the work for you that he can--all your job includes is sitting around, being comfortable, and growing your baby until you're ready to pop. You don't have to work, or travel, or stress at all, all Luis wants you to do as your lover and in-home doctor (kinda) is to relax, indulge in your hobbies, and let your body direct you towards whatever it needs. You can do that for him, right, love?

That's not to say he's completely, ahem, sterile about the whole process. Luis doesn't mind being a little messy--and god knows he has no qualms about getting all sloppy and rough when it's time to actually make the baby. He's got a theory that his seed will take easier if you're completely relaxed, so he always starts out with the gentlest, most loving head he can manage between those sweet, pretty thighs. But it never ends that way because before long, Luis' mind clouds with lust as he gets that feverish taste of you on his tongue, and by then he's leaving finger-shaped bruises in your hips and moaning with his lips totally sealed around your clit, totally mindless as he makes your world spin. The scrape of his stubble against your skin and the pressure of his nose grinding into you when he has you ride his face is hypnotic, it's tantalizing, and Luis knows that well enough that he never skips out on going down on you even if he's got limited time. Fingers, tongue, or face, he's going to have you falling apart in his lap no matter what time of the month or how sensitive you might be about exposing yourself--Luis would never judge nor condemn you for anything because no matter what it is, it almost always turns him on more than you could ever realize. He likes his women real, we'll say that much.

And when he's got baby fever, he's just on you like a wildcat on a wounded gazelle, fierce and frisky and so loud and handsy you might just have to tie him up to keep him quiet. It's his time to show you how passionate he can really be and lord does he really show it; he doesn't stop even when both of you have already reached your end, he just hikes your legs up higher on his waist, adjusts the pillow propping up your hips, and groans out a string of babbled praises as he humps your poor, overstimulated body to coax out those last spurts of cum he's got left. He's gotta give it his all, no? No sense leaving such a pretty lady empty when he can fill you all up, and give you everything you need to make a baby for him. He can't really get over the fact that it's just that easy for him to be a part of something so beautiful, nor that someone as gorgeous as you would ever let some worthless fiend like him father your children--the feeling is just indescribable, but he knows that it's pure love. And he knows that he wouldn't ever want it with anyone else besides you.

Who knows, maybe once you have the baby you'll be the one begging him for another--but even with one, Luis will be cherishing that sweet little bundle of life and he'll be hardcore protective over them with every ounce of energy he's got. Well, maybe not every ounce....he's got to save enough to keep an eye out for his precious wife too, doesn't he?

[bonus-links]

I see a lot of people start with grays calendar for their art and then color it in, and I wanted to ask how you do that?

i do it manually! i use the lasso fill tool in clip studio paint and fill in figures and other important details as I finish the linework. everything in a panel gets a separate grey tone based on foreground, middleground and background. Unless I'm lazy, I usually try to match the tones to the value structure I actually want for the panel in the end, ie whether the figure or the BG is the darkest thing in frame.

i do this to make my job easier when I have to color, because I can clip all my flat colors and shading to the base layer, and I don't have to worry about being precise. I actually made an auto-action in clip studio recently that automatically creates and clips the shade/light layers to the base for me, it looks like this:

it saves so much time. if ur making a comic where u have to do the same things 1 million times I highly recommend looking into auto-actions

[hot-soop]

don't let me tempt you / ch.1

pairing: angel!seokjin x angel!f.reader ⇢ au: Good Omens universe (none of the characters or the plot are mentioned so this fic can be read without knowing anything of Good Omens) ⇢ genre: forbidden romance, friends 2 lovers, comedy(?), fluff, eventual smut (not in this chapter) ⇢ summary: Seokjin is temporarily banished from Heaven and you're not all that good at paperwork. ⇢ chapter wc: 4.5k ⇢ rating: fic rating is explicit/18+ for eventual smut; chapter rating is 16 & up bc they're the equivalent of ken dolls rn, but minors please DNI anyway. This isn't for you. ⇢ chapter warnings: LOTS of religious imagery bc this is set in the Good Omens universe and there's gonna be a bunch of biblical references, but please remember that this isn't meant to be accurate. Author is an atheist. Author did next to no research on calendars that pre-date the Georgian one bc she is lazy and can't do maths. Swearing. If there's any tags you think I'm missing, please let me know - I'd hate to be the cause of any upset or discomfort &lt;3 ⇢ a/n: thank u to my beloveds @the-boy-meets-evil and @ugh-yoongi for reading this over and thinking my babies are cute. thank u to my angel @effortandmore for your encouragement! Ur all cute too. Ily

1106 BC

Time in 1106 BC follows some kind of construct that the author has not deemed necessary to research, but if the Georgian calendar (or indeed days of the week) had been invented, the day our story begins would be in mid April, on a Tuesday, around 3pm. 

The weather in Heaven is, as you would expect, perfect. The company is not.

“Sorry to bring you in here like this,” you say, as the thirteenth angel of the day takes a seat on the other side of your desk.

There’s a spiel to this. Angels have a tendency to lean towards the dramatic, so you’ve learned the ways of ‘softening the blow’, as the humans call it. Doling out God’s punishments wasn’t your preferred assignment, but it’s the role that was dropped in your lap after you quit the last - and you’re not in a position to refuse Her again. Here goes another. 

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news but-”

“Let me guess,” the other angel interjects. “She’s demoting me?”

This is unusual. The angels know God’s wrath, but they’re usually surprised to find out when said wrath is directed toward them specifically. Not this one, he’s sitting there, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently, waiting for you to rip off the bandaid. 

“Uhh. A temporary banishment actually.”

He stares at you. “It was only a little miracle.” 

“Three very large miracles, I’ll have you know. We’re not supposed to be bringing people back from the dead anymore.”

“Since when?” he asks, rather like a petulant human toddler. 

You frown. “Since protocol changed - didn’t you read the memo?” The angel shakes his head. “God’s decided to save those types of miracles for someone really special in-” You pause to check your watch “- a thousand years, give or take a century.” 

“Special how?” The angel asks, sitting up a little straighter. 

“You know we’re not told details of The Great Plan.” You flip the file shut. “Well, it seems like you know the issue at hand, and there’s little else to discuss-”

There’s a look of unease creeping over his assigned face that gives you pause. His fingertips drum on his knee. Too human for a heavenly body. “Are you alright?”

“She’s not- they’re not going to cut-”

“Oh! Goodness no,” you’re quick to reassure. “Oh no, you’d have to do something really awful for that, like, question her authority like Lucifer did.” His laugh comes out like a bark, and you’re confused because it wasn’t a joke. “No, but I am terribly sorry to say that you’re being sentenced to four-hundred years on Earth.”

He blinks twice. “Excuse me?”

“Four-hundred years - horrid, I know. But God does say the punishment must fit the deed-”

You’re interrupted again, this time by the kind of laughter that starts as disbelief and quickly has his shoulders shaking and tears rolling down his cheeks. Most unusual. 

“You’re telling me I get to spend near half a century on Earth?”

“What do you mean ‘get to’?” The thought of even spending ten years in such a place sends shivers right through your wings. “You won’t be able to return to heaven at all during that time. No correspondence with anyone, unless of course we contact you first.” He’s positively glowing and you can’t understand it. “You’ll have to live amongst humans-”

He’s standing now, moving to the screen and zooming in on earth. “Can I pick where?”

You move to stand next to him. He’s zoomed in so far, you can’t quite tell where it’s supposed to be. In truth, you spend very little time looking over God’s preferred planet, choosing instead to focus on the vastness of the universe in all its glory. You prefer the stars and the galaxies and all of their colours. 

“May I?”

“Sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Can I choose where to live? Will I have a role?” 

There’s nothing like this in the training manual. No one ever has these questions. They’re too busy crying, wailing for another chance to stay in heaven, let alone look excited as this one does. 

“I suppose you could,” you say slowly. “And no - there’s no role.” You wait for the penny to drop, but he doesn’t seem to get it. “Pointlessness is the point of this sentence.”

Wonder breaks out in his expression, and he turns back to the screen and zooms in on a peninsular you’ve never noticed before. “Can you drop me here?”

“Where’s here?”

“Gojoseon.”

“Why?” 

“Good people.” His smile spreads wide. “Good food.”

You gasp. “You’ve consumed their provisions? You’ve eaten?”

He looks at you in shock. “You haven’t?”

Of course you flaming haven’t! Even if you could stomach it - how in heaven would you get the opportunity to dine on Earth, what with all the work piling up in your pigeonhole and the lack of angels rights to paid time off, not to mention a union?

Your expression must say it all because he laughs again and says, “Well then visit me sometime, I’ll cook for you.” 

“You’re very peculiar.”

“Yes,” he says with a shrug. “I get that a lot.” 

You move back over to the desk to complete the rest of the paperwork while he stands there, still looking at the map with a satisfied smile.

After a few moments, he says, “I’ll need a name if I’m to live with humans.”

You find his given name at the top of the page. Soterasiel. 

“What’s wrong with the one you’ve got?”

He shrugs again. “Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue for everyone.”

“I hear John is rather popular these days,” you muse, still checking boxes. “And Abraham. Or what about Jos-”

“Seokjin.”

“Bless you.”

“No, I mean- Seokjin.” He moves to sit back down. You don’t quite like it, the way he walks, like he’s got a bravado he hasn’t done anything to earn - rather the opposite in fact, given his grievous error in judgement. “That’s my new name.” 

“Oh-” You glance up at him. “It suits you.”

Seokjin beams. He’s quiet for the next few moments, but you can sense his eagerness as he watches your fingertip move down the page. When all the documents are signed, you show him over to the chute, and he peers into it.

“This is the one-way?” 

You nod. “We’ll send someone to relieve you once your sentence is up.”

He steps inside without hesitation, and it’s almost too late. You've been itching with curiosity since you opened his file, so you blurt out exactly what you’re not supposed to ask.

“Why did you do it?”

Seokjin tilts his head, confused.

“Why did you bring those humans back from the dead?” you clarify.

His eyes soften. “They’re my favourites.” 

There’s a pregnant pause as you regard him. You don’t understand. Favourites? Angels aren’t supposed to have favourites. Angels aren’t supposed to be anything like him. Maybe you haven’t met enough to speak on the matter.

“Come visit me, won’t you? I get the impression you’ll like it down there.”

And before you can scoff at the very idea of visiting a banished (albeit temporarily) angel on earth, the chute opens up below him and he’s gone.

It’s difficult to get back to work after all that. All day there are punishments to give out in God’s name, but thankfully they’re nothing as extreme as that one. You get through a few sanctions, several warnings filed, and a strongly worded letter to the Department of Animals to remind them to stop creating wasps (apparently earth has enough) and then (at what would usually be known as 6pm), like clockwork, Turiel enters your office. 

He’s another one you can’t get a read on, but in an entirely different way. He came up the ranks quickly, and became your boss without the necessary qualifications within a single century. He’s kind of course, but he’s a Watcher, so naturally he watches everything. Being watched makes you uncomfortable. 

“How is everything?”

“Wonderful, thank you.”

“What happened with the banishment this morning?”

“With Seok- Soterasiel? He took it rather well.” Turiel stares at you, and you clear your throat to fill the awkward quiet. “Seemed quite happy about it, actually.”

Turiel frowns. “That’s odd.”

“Yes, quite.”

“We should watch that one,” he says, already making his way out. “Oh- you remembered to strip his miracles, correct?”

Strip his- why in heaven would you do that? It seems horribly cruel enough just to leave them there, let alone take their ability to do anything worthwhile. 

“Sorry?”

Turiel stops on the spot and turns, frown deepening further. “Tell me you saw the memo from Metatron? We’re to strip any and all banishments of their miracles going forward. Too many mishaps and too many angel turned demon that still have their powers.”

If you had any blood in your face it would surely drain. No, you haven’t seen any blasted memo. The pigeonhole is stuffed to burst and it’s something you’ve been meaning to work through, you truly have, but there’s so little time in the day and- and- heavens, he’s still staring at you. Tell him the truth. Tell him you didn’t take Seokjin’s miracles. They’d overlook one error, especially as it’s the first offence. Surely?

“No need to worry,” you hear yourself say, voice unnaturally high. “Of course I did.” 

Turiel blinks, smiles with relief, and shuts the door behind him as he leaves.

For the first time in your existence, you’re tempted to curse. 

879 BC

6:43pm. Patchy rain showers through til 8.

Seokjin’s home looks like nothing. A shack at best. It’s hardly worthy of the name home but you still need his sodding permission to cross the threshold, so you knock and wait, huddling as close to the door as possible to keep dry. As the rain pelts your back you bitterly wonder why angels have to wait at the threshold for permission to enter. It’s utterly beyond you, surely such a restraint could be reserved for those who are up to no good?

(You pointedly ignore the little voice saying that you are actually up to no good.)

“Oh my God,” Seokjin says when he opens the door (if it weren’t for the threshold force you’d keel over) and your nose wrinkles automatically at the blasphemy. “It’s you.”

“May I come in?” you say, too busy watching for Watchers in your peripherals to take in the sight of the angel in front of you. It would be terrible to be caught now, after the web of lies you weaved in order to get an hour off work. 

“Why?” he asks, suspicion lacing his voice. “You’re not bringing me back early are you?”

“Oh heavens no,” you say, starting to feel a little desperate, pushing the wet hair from your eyes. “I forgot something in your documents, a quick signature and I’ll be off in a jiffy.”

“You forgot something?”

“Yes-” 

“And you decided two hundred and twenty-seven years later was the right time to fix that?”

“Time slips away when you’re working!” 

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Your lot really need to unionise.”

“Shh!” you hiss. “Let me in, please?”

“Alright, alright,” he says, stepping aside. “Come on in. Take your shoes off at the door.”

“I don’t have shoes,” you say as you push past him. A little miracle as soon as you’re out of the rain has you dry and warm again. What a pity, you think, that Seokjin will have to live without these little perks for the rest of his banishment. The sympathy you feel for him catches you unawares.  “What are shoes?”

Seokjin smiles. “Thought you were a watcher?”

Part Cherubim part Virtue actually, but you won’t be telling Seokjin that. That’s between you and God. You bustle past him inside the shack and you can finally relax. All protocols are being broken right now, but with the teeny tiny miracle that you performed earlier, only you and Seokjin will know about this clandestine meeting.  

Seokjin’s home is much nicer on the inside. Rather homely. And clean. And it smells good. What is that smell? 

“I just made some tea, would you like a cup?” 

Drinking? Apparently you can’t hide your expression because Seokjin's responding smile is mirthful. “Haven’t changed much, have you?”

“I suppose not, no.”

There’s no time to dilly dally like this. If you’re not back in the office soon, there’ll be questions you won’t know how to answer without twisting the truth. An angel can’t be going around telling lies. It’s uncouth. 

Seokjin busies himself at the table while you unroll the documents. The scroll is horribly long, but eventually you find the line you missed all those years ago. You cough to get his attention, and he looks up and takes the scroll from your outstretched hand. 

But then he starts to read. Oh goodness gracious. You hadn’t expected that. He seemed the sort that wouldn’t get hung up on the details, that would trust an angel (one like yourself in particular) implicitly. It’s offensive, actually, that he doesn’t trust that you’re not trying to pull the wool over his eyes, even though that might be exactly what you were trying to do. Are you not trustworthy? Are you not angelic?

Seokjin frowns. Uh oh. 

“You’re taking my miracles?”

“Uh-”

“Why?”

“Well- uh. It’s protocol, you see.”

Seokjin stares. The silence is palpable.

“You fucked up.”

You gasp. “Don’t curse!”

“You did!” he says, eyes wild. “You fucked up when you sent me down here!”

There’s heat creeping up your neck.

“It really doesn’t need to be such a big to-do,” you splutter. “Just sign the form, and I’ll be on my way and then you’ll be back in Heaven in no time at all!”

“But I won’t have my miracles?”

“You’ll get them back on your return!” 

“What if I need them?”

“You won’t.”

“I’ve needed them a lot, actually,” Seokjin insists. “You’ve no idea how many sticky situations I’ve been in thanks to all the creatures our Heavenly Mother made!”

“Oh!” you exclaim. “Have you seen a tiger yet? Those are my favourite.”

Seokjin looks like he might slap you.

The door opens.

“Seokjinie-hyung! We’re back!”

We? Who’s we?

We are three men, one short, one tall, and one somewhere in the middle. 

The room is very suddenly too small and too quiet as all of you stare at each other. 

The small one’s eyes, wide and curious, dart between you and Seokjin. 

“Who’s this, Seokjin hyung?”

“Uh-” you say.

“Uhh-” says Seokjin.

You can’t think of a human name. Not a single, blasted one comes to mind. Of course, humans know angels exist, but you can’t go around telling everyone who you are when you’re not exactly here on official business. Their mouths blabber too much. Word on Earth gets around faster than in Heaven.

“This is-”

“Oh my God-” the somewhere-in-the-middle one exclaims, while you grimace. “You’re that angel hyung told us about!”

You turn to glare at Seokjin, who is all of sudden very interested in the wood grain on the table. His ears are strawberry red. Strawberries were one of your ideas, you’d know that colour anywhere.

“You told them?” you say, incredulously. “What were you thinking?”

Seokjin sighs. “They’re not going to say anything.”

“Yeah!” the small one says. “Don’t worry, we’ve kept Seokijn hyung’s secret for two cent-”

He’s cut off by a loud cough from the tall one, but you’re not stupid. Humans aren’t supposed to be alive that long anymore, not since The Great Flood when God finally got sick of Noah and his bothersome family - that was one of the few memos you read. 

“Seokjin-” you say slowly. He’s pointedly looking everywhere else but your face. “Are these the same humans you told me about during our first meeting?”

The small one grins. “Oh hyung, I knew you loved us more than you let on.”

Two centuries they’ve been alive - at least. Oh Goodness. You need to report it, but how could you without telling them you didn’t do your job properly. 

“You don’t need to say anything to Heaven,” Seokjin says. “What they don’t know doesn’t hurt them.”

“The protocol-” you start, but you’re cut off by a groan.

“Fuck the protocol! Don’t you want to think for yourself for once? Didn’t She give us free will for a reason?”

“She gave them free will, not us!” you reason. “We’re to do as we’re told!”

“Why? What for?”

“The Great Plan!”

“The Great Plan-” he parrots in the most condescending tone. “-is supposed to be ineffable. If we knew what was in it, we wouldn’t have a choice. If I didn’t have free will, I wouldn’t have been able to turn them into vampires.”

You frown, confused. Vampires weren’t in the handbook, but then you never could keep up. “What’s a vampire?”

Seokjin swallows thickly. “Uh. Nevermind that. The point is, if this wasn’t in The Great Plan, if it wasn’t written, would I have even been able to do it?”

The thought gives you pause. He’s got a point, actually. The Archangels talk often of fate and destiny and what She wrote. No one knows the plan, of course, and it can change at Her will, but the whole point of this charade is that you’re all to trust in God’s Plan, regardless of what happens.

There’s a long moment of silence. The three men- or rather, vampires- are still just standing there watching the two of you argue. 

The small one finally breaks the tension and introduces himself. “I’m Jimin,” he says.

You nod, and give your name. He repeats it, butchering the pronunciation, but of course you expected that. Humans have never quite managed to get their tongue around it. You muse for a moment if you should give yourself a more human name, like Seokjin, but your thoughts are interrupted by the large one. 

“I’m Namjoon,” he says, and points to the last one, who gives a tentative wave. “This is Taehyung.”

You nod again, and start to feel a little ridiculous.

Okay, so the plan needs to be adjusted. You can’t take away Seokjin’s miracles without getting him to undo whatever he did to the human-vampires. 

“How long have you all been alive?” 

Namjoon glances at Seokjin, who nods. “Around three hundred years.”

“Okay,” you say. “And do you plan on dying any time soon?”

The three of them stare at you. “It’s not something we’d considered, no,” whispers Jimin. 

“Right,” you say, and then turn to Seokjin. “You need to fix this, make them human again. I’ve got to go, they’ll be looking for me, but I’ll be back soon to check in on you so you’d better have done it by then.”

Seokjin’s Adam's apple bobs in his throat. It’s… somewhat pleasant to look at.

“Pleasure to meet you everyone,” you say tightly to Seokjin’s friends. “Enjoy the rest of your lives.”

You catch their confused expressions shift into something horrified before you appear back at your desk in Heaven. It leaves you befuddled. That was a perfectly pleasant first interaction with humans that are aware of your celestial-ness - you’re not quite sure what they could be so bothered about.

827 BC

Early Autumn. 8:12am. Current Earthly conditions: foggy

It’s another fifty years or so before you can catch a break long enough to get back down to Earth. The shack has improved drastically - quite the pleasant looking home in fact. There’s flower boxes on the windowsills that are covered in a light morning dew, but the plants seem hardy. Purples and yellows. Dainty looking little things. You wonder what they might be. 

The door opens as you bend to smell them, and you look up to find the angel wrapped up in the largest item of clothing you’ve ever seen for something that just seems to be used for a neck. It’s ever so bright. Mismatched colours and patterns that don’t seem to line up. One end of it drags along the floor. Seokjin doesn’t appear too pleased to see you. 

“What are you wearing?” you ask, amused.

“Taehyung made me a scarf.”

“It’s very big.”

Seokjin glares.

“Did you really come to ruin my life so early in the morning?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re immortal. I hardly doubt this little blip will destroy you. More like God would if you don’t pull it together.”

“I could say the same about you.”

He’s got you there. But as you hold his gaze something in the air shifts, and he reluctantly lets you in. This time you take his offer of a cup of tea. You take a tentative sip, and it warms your belly in such an unexpected way. The weight of the cup is heavy in your hand, and the warmth of it seeps into your palm. It’s rather nice. 

You sit at the same table he had fifty-something years ago. There’s a few more marks in the woodwork by now. 

“Shall we get it over with then?” he says. “Where do I need to sign?”

You stop his hastiness with a gentle touch to his arm. He stares at your hand.

 “Did you get everything in order first?” you ask.

Seokjin coughs. “Yes, of course.” 

His ears are strawberry red again. The colour really is pretty, you’re glad you chose it. You’re glad you see it in other things, even if they are the tips of this angel’s ears. 

“They’re dead?”

“Not yet,” he says, lips twisting bitterly around the words. “They’re living out the rest of their lives. You might get a chance to see them, if you stay awhile. They said they’d be popping by later.”

“Oh,” you say, surprised. “Well, I suppose that’s something. You know, I am really sorry about that. I thought about it after my last visit, and I think I understand now why you’d want to keep your friends around for longer.” 

“Feeling lonely up there?” he asks, voice gentler than usual.

“No!” You snort with (only slightly put on) derision. “Of course not. Too busy for such a thing as loneliness.”

He chuckles. “Maybe I wasn’t busy enough then.”

You ignore what feels like a thimbleful of sadness dropping into your stomach.

Seokjin does most of the talking while you drink your tea. He talks about what he does down here - cooking mostly, but also a little pottery. He’s been training under a man called Yoongi. Says he made the cups you’re holding, and you inspect them. They’re quite ugly, thick and uneven- and you’re about to say as such, but Seokjin looks proud, so you smile and tell him he did very well, and that you like the colour of the clay. You wish you could bottle the way he beams.

All too soon the tea is finished, and Seokjin signs the document. It’s done. His eyes still shine, if a little less bright now. 

“What now?” he asks.

You suck in a breath. “Your miracles are in trust until your return to Heaven. Until then you can live as a human. More or less.”

His eyes snap up. “I’m still immortal, right?”

“Oh of course,” you say with a laugh. “You think they’d go through all this trouble just to risk you being eaten by a giraffe?”

“Do you know anything about Earth?” Seokjin says it like you’re an idiot. “At all?”

You’re tempted to roll your eyes. “I know plenty-”

“Name one thing,” he interrupts, crossing his arms and looking at you with an almost amused expression. 

You draw your shoulders back. You’ll give him three. “It weighs five point nine-seven septillion kilograms.”

Seokjin blinks three times fast. You must’ve caught him off guard with your knowledge. Good.

“It’s made up of thirty-two point one percent iron, fifteen point one percent silic-”

“Alright,” Seokjin says, lips twisting into a small smile. “I get it. You don’t need to prove yourself.”

You grin, ever so pleased with yourself, and Seokjin laughs.

“You’re cute.”

“What?”

“Cute,” he repeats. “It’s a compliment.”

“Oh,” you say, wondering why reciting facts from the Earth’s handbook would warrant a compliment on your character. “Okay…” You look down at your mug and see it’s empty and you’re struck with a surprising pang of disappointment. The tea was really rather good, it’s something of a pity as you realise you won’t be able to make it the same back in Heaven.

“Well, I’d better get going. Paperwork to do. Miracles to take.”

“Of course,” says Seokjin, and stands to see you off. “If you visit again will you let me know in advance?”

“Why?”

“I’ll make dinner.”

You smile without thinking. “I don’t eat, Seokjin.”

“You know,” he says, in a very matter of fact tone. “Despite the fact that every time we meet you’re taking away something of mine, I’m growing quite fond of our meetings.”

You blink. 

His eyes are so big and gentle and- “Let me know- okay?” he says with earnest.

“Okay,” you promise, already wondering when you could possibly get away long enough to watch Seokjin eat dinner.

“Would you like to take some flowers with you?” he asks suddenly. “I saw you smelling them.”

“Oh! Ye-” you start, and then you think better of it. So you plaster on a smile and say “No, that’s quite alright, I can whip some of my own up in no time at all.”

Seokjin nods. He looks like he’s going to say something else, but time is getting on and you’re not used to these odd goodbye rituals the humans (and this angel in particular) seem so fond of, so with a flash of a smile you’re back in Heaven. Seokjin and his lovely brown eyes remain on Earth. 

Your office looks so bland in comparison to Seokjin's home.

It takes a second to notice that the cup he gave you is still in your hand, remnants of the sweet tea drying on the bottom. You briefly consider going back down, just to hand it over and say goodbye properly, but in walks Turiel to squash any ideas you have about leaving your post again.

“Great, you’re finally back,” he says, dumping a stack of files on your desk. “We’re swamped.”

“What happened?” you exclaim. You’re barely able to see him over the pile. 

“Some bright spark in Organisms made a new virus. Let it loose in Greece without proper authorisation, killed half of them,” he says with a frustrated sigh. “The higher ups are fretting because one of the dead ones was supposed to be a prophet.”

Oh dear.

Turiel leaves without display. No time for pleasantries like offerings of tea and flowers up here. You sigh, dejected. 

Being around Seokjin makes you wistful for things you didn’t know you wanted. You set the mug on your desk, turning it to and fro so you get a view of the prettier side- and with the smallest of miracles, there grows delicate flowers, in purple and yellow.

[herotome]

Devlog #120

Hi-ho, Wudge here. Early devlog...!

This week I drew a blush just for Warden and nobody else. There are two very specific ways to see it, and only in this office location. So... good luck!

I playtested the game enough to get allllllll 26 achievements. I actually... had to reference my own walkthrough to get one of them. ;;; But I was able to do it!!

I also had a small.. incident where Griffin promised he'd talk to everyone to help fix their negative opinions of me (aka, reset the approval points to a more neutral zone after I thoroughly antagonized everybody).... and then he didn't. It's fixed now ;;;;;; But woo that would have been an awful lil mistake hahaha.

I finished the 'updating ur mc pfp' tutorial - seems to be intuitive and working seamlessly enough!

I converted converted alllll the pngs into webps, and converted alllllllllll the mp3s and wavs into oggs...

...and deleted all unnecessary files and notes from the development process. This is usually the stage where I'll end up breaking something from accidentally nuking an important file... but so far so good.

I put in a cute, special lil sfx for the reward you get after the credits.

Finish designing and coding my SECRET NG+ screen, and wrote a personalized dev note to put in it.

And - we've finally updated Mr Whidden! Wahoo!!!! Remnantation did an amazing job as always!

I thought about putting in some animated smoke coming out of his cannon arm but I had to tell myself No... No Wudge....stop.. ......I did add a lil ember and smoke at the very edge of the gun but THATS IT I restrained myself there and did not animate!!!

So, what else is left?

Thanks I'm glad you asked.

Test my email subscription service to see how much I can customize those emails.

Film and upload the Griffin CG video.

Finish and import a few final pieces of in-game art (1 bird sprite, 1 background, some food art).

Review some sound effects in a final, final dev playtest.

Schedule out some social media release posts; wherein I might do like, a week of counting down until the game's release.

Finish updating my itch page (adding the final few lil graphics, putting up the new Content Warning, linking to the new video, then finally, uploading the game files and walkthrough).

Decide how I'm gonna update my pinned post. I should save a link to the old one bc most of its information should be quite relevant, but I'll want a temporary, shorter pinned post for new players who aren't familiar with this blog and are looking to troubleshoot or say hi or something.. Should still have fun attention-grabbing gifs and stuff from the itch page though. <_<

.... So yeah, mostly like - social media promo stuff. That should be it. Fingies crossed. Whew.

By the way?

Super Demo comes out December 2nd. Mark your calendars <3

Stay safe and keep warm,

Wudge.

[franciskirkland-deleted]

François and Arthur are perfect for each other. Arthur wants to be a proper gentleman, to protect and care for someone and François wants to be taken care and pampered. François wants all the romantic shit but at the same time needs spice and struggle and Arthur is emotionally constipated. Arthur wants to be assured of his worth, needs to be constantly reassured and validated and François does that all the time even if he is a tease and likes to piss him off. They're perfect. And let's not even talk about sexy times because they're just so compatible it brings tears to the heavens. (We're both in need of this ask, feel better soon)

hell yeah babygirl (gender neutral) i've been saying this for *checks calendar* like, 13 years. these are my thoughts exactly. muah im kissing u x3

whether arthur is a working class punk, a dorky suburban dad, an aristocrat with a stiff upper lip, or whatever else, his character fits the protector-provider-patriarch archetype. he's an old-fashioned man to a fault and he strives to always act with chivalry. what he imagines is chivalrous may or may not align with reality... i hope for his wife's sake that it does.

by all means françois isn't perfect, he can be a snooty, manipulative bitch, but at his best he's soft and sweet and feels like home. he is mommy-coded, you cannot change my mind. like i truly believe françois thrives when he's ~in his feminine energy~, (i'm using a tiktok term ironically, pls don't think i believe in that shit irl) receiving love and security in return for being a source of warmth and comfort. watching dr phil and eating bonbons - it's what he deserves.

obviously i don't see every ship in these rigid heteronormative boxes but i can't help it when i look at these two. like, it's just arthur's luck that françois is a damsel in distress, bc he wants to put him in Situations so that he can save him, knight-in-shining-armor style. but he'd sooner step on a lego than apologize for putting him in these very situations. aaand then there's fran, basically begging for more Situations. sobbing emoji.

in addition to needing to prove his worth, i think arthur also has a pathological need to be praised; it's impossible to tell if it's because he's insecure or arrogant. spoiler alert he's both!!

at the end of the day, i think his level of stubbornness far outweighs that of françois, and the latter is ultimately more agreeable. fran is a good girl, he listens to his husband, even if he's gonna be a brat about it the whole time. but when he praises him, he means it <3

my headache is starting to break today, finally. i have long shifts the next few days tho and i haven't gotten as much writing done as i hoped to. i hope ur doing okay <333 my asks and DMs are always open if u need some uplifting

[saywhatjessie]

Merry Christmas You Filthy Animal

Day 21 of the Advent calendar! Using this list. Day 21: Christmas Movies Fandom: Ted Lasso - Pairing: RoyJamie 1.1k[Ao3]

I’m Baby @JamTartt ✔ · 12 Dec 2023 My favrotie time of year: watching Roy watch Home Alone (811 retweets, 22k likes) | I’m Baby @JamTartt ✔ No, really, you haven’t lived until you’ve watched the end of Home Alone with Roy… he’s giggling uncontrollably even while I write this (2k retweets, 43k likes)

| barbs for Kent @romanroy replying to @JamTartt ????? But isn’t Roy Jewish? | I’m Baby @JamTartt ✔ replying to @romanroy people falling down and getting hit with things transcends religion, mate

| Trent Crimm @TrentCrimm ✔ replying to @JamTartt  I can picture it now: Roy sitting stiffly on a couch, wearing that same evil smile and laughing that evil laugh from the dick string incident. | Nice. @royjamie69  replying to @JamTartt and @TrentCrimm I’m sorry, the wHOM?!?!?! | The Punk Muppet @hole4kent replying to @JamTartt @TrentCrimm and @royjamie69  Here you go, bestie

The Lasso Way @dailylasso · 1 March 2022 The gaffer tying everyone’s dicks together was not on my 2022 bingo card… [video from the stands of the infamous red string incident ]

| Nice. @royjamie69 replying to @JamTartt @TrentCrimm and @hole4kent Respectfully, what the actual fuck????

| I’m Baby @JamTartt ✔ replying to @TrentCrimm @royjamie69 and @hole4kent It actually wasn’t that once I was sure my knob was okay. roy went to a sex shop and got the special skin safe rope. he’s thoughtful like that

| I’m Baby @JamTartt ✔ replying to @TrentCrimm Close! Yes to the evil laughter, no to the stiff sitting [A selfie of Jamie throwing up a peace sign and sticking his tongue out from where he’s stretched out almost in Roy’s lap, propped up against his side with Roy’s arm around him. Roy’s slumped against the couch facing what we can assume is the television screen, his profile showing his sadistic smile.]

| Nananananana! @DaniRojas ✔ replying to @JamTartt and @TrentCrimm 🥺 How come you get coach couch cuddles?

| I’m Baby @JamTartt ✔ replying to @DaniRojas and @TrentCrimm Come on over, muchacho! Plenty of snuggles to go around

| Nananananana! @DaniRojas ✔ replying to @JamTartt and @TrentCrimm 🥹🤗

Jamie Tartt ✓ [Image: The entirety of the Richmond team both on and around the couch attempting to snuggle Roy. Roy looks up at the camera at, presumably, Jamie with a dispassionate frown.] 3M likes Jamie Tartt ✓  Roy says I’m not allowed to invite anyone over for movie night anymore…

TentTruthing Puppy Pile!

Tammy Wallace So sweet :)

BentforKent Dude there’s no way they’re not fucking

NerdfighterJamie @BentforKent DUDE!!!! NO RPS ON THEIR ACTUAL ACCOUNTS, SAVE IT FOR STAN INSTA

Jamie Tartt ✓ @BentforKent not sure what you’re talking about, love. This is just guys being bros.

Jamie Tartt ✓ @BentforKen LOVE ur username btw

Til We mf DIE sdfjgbwjgfbwjgb JAMIE IS SUCH A FUCKING TROLL

I’m Baby @JamTartt ✔ · 14 Dec 2024 Another year, another Home Alone rewatch where Roy absolutely loses his shit. (969 retweets, 46k likes)

| Dick String Apologist @royjamierot  replying to @JamTartt  Jamie please post a video we’re starving

|

I’m Baby @JamTartt ✔ replying to @royjamierott  [video: selfie of Jamie, his lips sucked into his mouth like he’s trying not to laugh. The only part of Roy that’s visible is his arm that’s once again around Jamie, but you can hear a kind of horse giggling and some outright cackles over the faint sound of Joe Pesci being set on fire.]

| He’s My Babygirl @greyhoundsFTW replying to @royjamierott  amd @JamTartt bvisbj this is the CUTEST thing I’ve ever seen, Jamie Tartt you fucking KING

Nice. @royjamie69  … Guys?

I’m Baby @JamTartt ✔ replying to @royjamierott  [video: selfie of Jamie, his lips sucked into his mouth like he’s trying not to laugh. The only part of Roy that’s visible is his arm that’s once again around Jamie, but you can hear a kind of horse giggling and some outright cackles over the faint sound of Joe Pesci being set on fire.]

| Free Palestine @normalaboutfootball replying to @royjamie69 SHHHH WE KNOOOOOOOW

| Dick String Apologist @royjamierot  replying to @royjamie69 and @normalaboutfootball We dare not speak its name…

Jamie Tartt ✓ [Image: A candid shot of Roy, the lighting bad like the only light is coming from the TV, Roy’s hand is blurred like it’s moving to cover his eyes and his face is just broken open in the widest smile anyone has ever seen.] 12M likes

Jamie Tartt ✓  Marv just got hit with an iron

Mommy Welton kjbvjsbvsjkvb EXPOSED

Keeley Jones ✓ He is going to KILL YOU when he finds out you posted a picture of him SMILING

tartt’s tarty heart WE ARE BEING FED SO WELL HAPPY HANUKKAH TO MEEEEE

I’m Baby @JamTartt ✔ · 21 Dec 2025 Little late this year but DON’T WORRY. Roy is right at this moment watching Home Alone. (811 retweets, 22k likes)

| ObisanYEAH  @SamStan replying to @JamTartt  Thank Goodness!       

| Thank Roy It’s Game Day @WeKNowWeAre replying to @JamTartt  I don’t believe in Father Christmas but I do believe in Giggly Roy Kent

| Colin Hughes @ColinHughes ✔ replying to @JamTartt  What took so long?

| I’m Baby @JamTartt ✔ replying to @ColinHughes Wedding prep is a bitch, man, you know that! Only reason we’ve got time now is because we’re pushing off cleanup until tomorrow. You and Michael looked great today, by the way, thanks for coming :)

|

Colin Hughes @ColinHughes ✔ replying to @JamTartt  Of course :) 

| Nice. @royjamie69  replying to @ColinHughes and @JamTartt WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?!

Pink News @PinkNews  Roy Kent and Jamie Tartt reveal secret relationship and marriage in recent Twitter post

Roy Kent ✓ [Video: Jamie, still in his suit pants and shirt, his bowtie undone around his neck, leaning almost entirely on a body, presumably Roy. He’s saying the lines along with Buddy the Elf as they scream “Santaaa! I know him. I know him!” and then giggling like mad. Roy’s other hand comes up to pet his hair.] 69M likes Roy Kent ✓  This muppet makes fun of me for laughing at Home Alone but this is the kind of shit he does. Can’t believe I married him today. I must be an idiot. 🖤

TentTruthing !!!!!!!!!!

Tammy Wallace Happy for you both :)

BentforKent I FUCKING KNEW IT TOLD EVERYONE

NerdfighterJamie KBDVJKSDBVJKBVJKBVJKEVB WHAT THE FUUUUUCCCCCCKKKK

Mommy Welton HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!jkabjvbjkvbJKBSJKVBJKVBKSVB

Til We mf DIE sdfjgbwjgfbwjgb JAMIE IS SO CUTE ROY YOU LUCKY BITCH

Keeley Jones ✓ Roy, you realize now I know you DO know your instagram password, I’m going to make you post more.

Roy Kent ✓ @Keeley Jones fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck

tartt’s tarty heart AM I DEAD? I FEEL DEAD DID I DIE? GOD ARE YOU THERE?

Jamie Tartt ✓ 🩷

[its-a-me-mango]

Did U know ur birthday is saved on my calendar?

: 3 meep meep

Thats so epic I do that as well, my birthdays on my calendar too! /j

[weirdo09]

HAPPY BIRTHDAYYY

I HOPE U HAVE A WONDERFUL DAYYY

ITS SAVED IN MY CALENDAR SO FEEL FREE TO CORRECT ME IF ITS NOT ACTUALLY UR BDAY LMAO

IF IT IS, I HOPE YOU ENJOY ITTTT

(also i changed my entire acc so just letting you know its el from @elinhell <33 )

THANK YOU SMMM <33

it is my birthday :3

hi, el !!