#seriously i should not still remember this
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countessdragon · 3 days ago
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A brief guide for what to do if you say something...questionable and get called out or pulled aside for it:
DO ask about why exactly what you said was wrong, and remember it. Knowing that information will help you to remember that you shouldn't say it.
DO clarify what you meant in a way that doesn't contain the offending implications, if possible.
DO apologize, but not too much. A simple "Ah crap, I didn't mean it like that. Sorry, won't happen again!" is good.
DON'T get defensive. The moment you start trying to dismiss or minimize the correction, your gaffe goes from an innocent mistake to An Issue. If you find yourself saying "It was just a joke!", "It wasn't that serious", "Whatever", or anything like that, you should probably take a step back and consider that you have a few more things to work on than you thought.
DON'T overapologize. Seriously, we got it the first time: you messed up and you feel bad. There's no need to make things more awkward than they probably already are.
Similarly, DON'T make it all about you. We're supposed to be focusing on explaining why what you said/did was wrong and confirming that you won't say/do it again, not on reassuring you that you're still a good person or that we all don't hate you. Having a breakdown while someone is trying to confront you about something honestly makes it seem like you're trying to be manipulative and get out of addressing it.
A final word of advice: If you're THAT worried about accidentally saying something racist, start educating yourself! There are loads of resources about there to help white people deal with these sorts of things, and all you have to do is look!
can we talk about how being so pants-shittingly terrified of Doing A Racism you freeze up or Get Weird around anyone a shade darker than the sugar in your cupboard or with an accent is effectively the same as being scared of brown people and doesn't make you much better than Sandra Lilly Smith from the suburbs who clings her purse when a black guy gets on the elevator with her
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ghostgirl-22 · 2 days ago
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stanford era art having a bad day (maybe he failed a test or something, nothing too serious) but he gets really upset (like he’s gonna cry) so when he gets back to his dorm patrick is there (cuz he’s visiting) and patrick wants to take care of art, see what art needs but art is like “please just fuck me” or something along those linessss
Hello my love, thank you for the prompt <3 This got crazy long for some reason. Just needed Art wandering about feeling sorry for himself lol
CW: 18+ !NSFW!
—-
It’s frustrating, he’s never ever failed a test before. Particularly in math. It’s not like he wants to be a math major or an engineer or anything but he’s been in advanced math since he was 14 years old, he should be able to handle this.
He tries not to cry as the professor goes over the results of their calculus based physics exam and the other students in the class are answering questions, demonstrating their work like it’s easy. Meanwhile he’s struggling to understand it. He talks to the professor after class and the professor is understanding but he explains, “these are the basics, the class is only going to get more difficult. So I suggest you withdraw and retake it after you take a more fundamental calculus course?”
Art nods and forces a smile, his throat burning as his professor pats him on the arm.
“It’s okay, plenty of students go that route and still become architects and engineers. There’s nothing wrong with it.”
Art is barely aware as he treks back to his dorm. He’s never flunked out of a class. And yes, math is one of his more challenging subjects but he’s always been able to work hard enough to figure it out. Working hard is his one talent. It’s how he ended up as one of the best students at Mark Reballato, salutatorian. He used to be the one to tutor his classmates. He aced every AP and Honors course. He’d studied so hard and done so well on the SATs and yet these kids at Stanford are actual child prodigies and geniuses…and for some of them it’s like… it’s like they don’t even have to try.
By the time he gets back to his room his eyes are full of tears. Why can’t he fucking excel at anything? Why can’t he be the prodigy for once? Why does he always have to try so fucking hard?
He knows his roommate won't be home until evening and he’s so ready to throw himself on his bed and sob like a loser but as he pushes open the bedroom door he remembers Patrick is visiting. He’s there on Art’s bed watching The View, of all things, and talking on the phone with his sister.
He waves, grinning but pauses when he sees Art’s face. Art can’t even hide it, it’s too late. Tears spill from his eyes and he drops his book bag in his chair.
“Hey Tor I’ll call you back,” Patrick says, into the phone.
Art wipes the tears away quickly, angry that they’re there in the first place.
“Hey! What’s wrong?” Patrick asks.
Art shakes his head. “Nothing.”
”Seriously? You look like a kicked puppy. Come on, tell me what’s wrong. Is it your grandma… or… or tennis?”
”No Patrick, you just… you wouldn’t understand.” He knows Patrick wouldn’t take this seriously. Patrick’s just another prodigy. All their coaches telling him how brilliant he’s been at tennis since they were 11. And Tashi too, a once in a generation talent, that’s what they’re calling her.
“Try me,” Patrick says. Art stares at him. He’s lying across the width of Art’s single bed, back resting up against the wall. He’s in his boxers still, legs open, his muscular thighs spread out. Hands folded inside the Stanford t-shirt he borrowed from Art. His penetrating gaze is resting on Art and he looks concerned. And so fucking hot.
Art rubs his eyes again. He’s frustrated and angry but now he’s feeling… horny. He probably should’ve thought twice before having sex with his best friend. Everything is all silly now. He’s not sure why he did it. Well actually, he was trying to fuck with Patrick, see if he could ruin his relationship with Tashi.
He didn’t even think Patrick would go for it, just mentioned it casually on Patrick’s birthday but he came back a couple days later with all these different kinds of lube and condoms and they spent a long rainy afternoon trying to figure it all out. Exploring different positions, techniques, playing with each other. Now they're doing it all the time and the whole thing backfired because Art’s the one craving it. He walks between Patrick’s legs. “Can you fuck me?”
Patrick raises his eyebrows. “Really?”
Art shrugs.
Patrick sits forward. “Yeah. Sure.” He says, the ghost of a smirk on his mouth. “It’s so early for you. You usually like it when I buy you dinner first.”
Art digs the heels of his palms into his eyes as stupid tears drop down again.
“Art, seriously…are you okay?” Patrick asks, tentatively. “I can help… tell me how to help.”
“I’m fine. It’s nothing,” Art says, and he climbs onto the bed. Straddling him. “Just fuck me.”
Patrick grips him by the waist. “Mmkay, I can do that.” He says, unzipping Arts pants. He tugs Arts jeans down over his thighs and Art steps out of them. Then he’s lifting his t-shirt over his head and climbing back onto Patrick’s lap.
Patrick touches his face, rubs a thumb along the wet space on Arts cheeks. “Did someone hurt you?” He asks softly.
“No, Patrick please, I don’t want to talk about it.” Art whines. His brain is freaking out because of the tenderness and the last thing he needs is to freak out over his feelings for Patrick too.
“Alright,” Patrick says and he kisses Art. And kisses him again. Art licks at his lips and pushes his tongue inside.
He can feel Patrick getting hard underneath him as they make out. It’s so much and it happens so fast, Arts dizzy for it. “That’s a neat trick,” Art whispers. Grinding his hips against the sensation.
“That’s what you do to me,” Patrick sighs against his lips.
Art smiles. Maybe he sucks at math now but at least he’s still good at this.
“Need you lubed up,” Patrick hums. Art gets up and crawls over to his bedside table. He can feel Patrick’s large palm rubbing on the swell of his bottom as he’s bent over. Art’s got all this stuff he has to hide when his parents are in town now. He pulls lubricant out and while Patrick’s putting it on his cock Art lingers on the bed, playing with his waistband, watching while the ladies on The View are arguing about something.
“You can turn it off, my sister wanted me to watch Phil Collins perform or something,” Patrick says, distractedly.
“Okay fuck me while he performs or something.” Art says.
Patrick smirks. “Fuck, you really need to cry don’t you?”
Art takes a breath.
“Okay sorry,” Patrick says gently, “Can you lay down?”
Art settles onto his back. Keeps his legs open as Patrick crawls between and takes his boxers down. “Mm, what time does your roommate get back?”
“Later,” Art says.
“I don’t have to keep you quiet then,” Patrick smiles.
Art chews on his thumb as Patrick lines himself up to press it inside. He’s all lubed up but Art is just used to the fact that it’s always going to feel like a lot at first. He breathes through the stretch and watches amused as Patrick rubs his at Art’s pelvis. He always does that, trying to feel his own cock penetrating from the outside. “You’re always so fucking tight for me baby. Feels like I didn’t even take your virginity.” Patrick says. It’s all for his ego. He moves down to rub Art’s cock and Art moans. Wraps his legs around Patrick’s waist, wiggling his hips.
“I know, relax, I’m gonna fuck you,” Patrick breathes. He starts sliding it in and out and out and in. Patrick’s had him in so many positions but this is Art’s favorite, he can feel Patrick sinking so much deeper inside him this way. Sees stars on every other thrust and his head empties out quickly. Once he came so hard he swears he had a second orgasm two minutes later. Patrick says he just wasn’t done.
This time it feels blindingly good. He’s feeling so good, he bites down on Patrick’s shoulder to relieve some of the tension. He wonders if Tashi ever notices his marks, the way he notices hers. Sometimes when he’s really turned on he bites where she scratches.
After a few minutes he thinks he’s listening to Patrick moan but realizes belatedly that it’s him. His mouth is watering so much that he’s drooling. Patrick is grunting as his hips slam into Art at a ridiculous pace. Art feels so fucking full, he loves the feeling of Patrick warm and solid inside of him, breaching him. His body lit up like a raw nerve as Patrick hits that delicious tender spot over and over and over. He’s gonna pass out. It sounds so fucking obscene over the sound of the bed springs squeaking and Phil Collins in the background.
Art loses it first, sticky ropes of pearly white shooting out of his cock, covering Patrick’s stomach, dripping back down onto Art’s body. And then it’s too much, Art can feel everything and he’s squirming trying to get away as Patrick picks up the pace.
“No, no don’t run away… two fucking seconds stay here,” Patrick groans, gripping him tightly. It feels insane. It feels so fucking good but it’s too much and his eyes are watering again. Art swears he can honestly feel himself drifting in and out of consciousness. He’s coming again, he knows he’s coming again as Patrick finishes inside him, filling him with wet, heated, sticky cum. Art clenching on him. Keeping him inside.
Patrick’s shivering. “Fuck,” he whispers, collapsing on top of Art like a warm heavy sticky blanket.
“Mm,” Art sighs, rubbing Patrick’s back gently, to calm him down. Patrick groans and rolls off of Art onto his side right next to him. He curls his fingers into Art’s hair.
“You feel better?” Patrick asks, softly.
“Yeah,” Art says quietly. He didn’t really do anything but put it out of his mind for 30 minutes. And now he’s coming back to the reality that he’s only in his second semester of college and he already has to drop a class.
“Feel like telling me what’s wrong?”
Art rolls his eyes and looks up at the ceiling. “It’s stupid. I failed an exam. I studied so fucking hard and I just— everything on the test looked like it might as well have been written in a foreign language. I thought the whole class would have done poorly but it was just me.”
”What class?” Patrick asks.
“Calculus for physics,” Art sighs.
“Sounds really fucking hard,” Patrick says. “You should tell them to fuck off and come with me on the road.”
“I knew you wouldn’t get it,” Art mutters. “You don’t take any of this seriously. I’m not as good at tennis as you are. I’m not fucking good at anything. Like the one thing I thought wouldn’t be difficult which is school work and I can’t even fucking do that properly. I’m gonna have to drop and I’m not even done with my first fucking year.”
Patrick doesnt say anything for a minute, he’s still fingering Art’s curls. Then he takes a breath. “You’re good at a lot of things, Art. You’ve got to stop beating yourself up. I mean… I get it. You were top of your class in high school but all these dorks at Stanford were the best in their high schools too. I was one of the best players but now I’m on tour facing off with the best players in the world and a lot of them are fucking kicking my ass. Just… you know… Tashi always says to have a little perspective. You’re here for a fucking reason. Don’t psych yourself out before the game is over.”
Art hadn’t really thought about that, Patrick has been having a hard time on tour, Art feels a little softer for him now. He rolls over to face him wrapping a leg over Patrick’s thigh. “You think I should stay in the class? Prove them wrong?”
Patrick smiles. “No, what the fuck do you need calculus with physics for anyway?”
Art laughs a bit. “I mean… if I decide to go to med school I’ll need a physics and a calculus class… but I guess I don’t really need this specific course unless I was going to become an engineer.”
“I’ve heard you talk about being a doctor before, never an engineer.” Patrick says, “Fuck that class, find something better to do with your time.”
“Yeah…fuck it,” Art says thoughtfully, he can play with his teammates on the indoor courts in the mornings. He feels so much lighter actually. Patrick is right, he really doesn’t need this course at all. He was just so used to high school, thinking everything put in front of him was something he needed to ace. In college, none of it mattered except for what he needed for his major. Patrick’s tracing circles idly along Art’s thigh. “Mm, something better to do with my time….” Art says, smiling, “You think we can fuck again before my roommate gets home?”
Patrick smirks, “Oh absolutely.”
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the-tartan-spartan · 2 days ago
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OOC PSA POST PLEASE READ
Hey so, if you feel targeted by this post go ahead and block my blog because I'm absolutely talking to you. This should go without saying, but the people behind these accounts are real people, with real feelings. Recently now more than ever, I've been getting hate asks, and not the ones targeted towards my character, but the ones targeted towards me the mod personally. Do not come into my asks and hide your face with anonymity just to insult me, the mod. Matter of fact, don't do that to ANYONE'S BLOG. Not any of BLU or RED teams, or ANYONE ELSES BLOG. I've had an influx of these asks in my box due to the complexity of my character and his actions, but please remember this is all fictional. Nobody was seriously harmed during this, do not hurt real people over fiction.
With this being said and such a high energy past couple of days, I'm gonna take a break from posting to this account. It may only be the rest of tonight or maybe all of tomorrow as well, but I need a break from all the sadness lol. Feel free to still send in asks, I'll get to them when I can! Love y'all, and I'm having so much fun with this roleplay, I promise!
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idlnmclean · 2 days ago
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I think it should be illegal for web pages to require identifying information and particularly biometrics. For any private company or publicly traded corporation there is basically no legitimate reason to allow them to collect things like my facial features, my voice print, my finger prints, samples of my DNA, and so on. Even if the website deals in financial information and transactions, there's basically no reason to hand them all the things necessary to commit gross identify fraud for longer than I shall be alive.
The security theater which is actually panopticons and phrenological profiling is absurd and terrifying. These are not systems that I trust, and these are systems that fundamentally can not trust me.
Used to be that the very good banks and financial institutions took the privacy and security of their patrons very seriously.
I remember when people almost unanimously agreed that there was no reason that any random web agent should have access to your browsing history. The whole proliferation of adware and spyware not just across the Internet but into the very kernels of operating systems basically is a blanket permission for advertisers and payment processors and random ass companies just having near unmitigated access to people's browsing histories.
Billionaires though apparently still get to hide behind elaborate sock puppets.
I don't know I'm not done talking about it. It's insane that I can't just uninstall Edge or Copilot. That websites require my phone number to sign up. That people share their contacts to find their friends on social media.
I wouldn't use an adblocker if ads were just banners on the side funding a website I enjoy using and want to support. Ads pop up invasively and fill my whole screen, I misclick and get warped away to another page just for trying to read an article or get a recipe.
Every app shouldn't be like every other app. Instagram didn't need reels and a shop. TikTok doesn't need a store. Instagram doesn't need to be connected to Facebook. I don't want my apps to do everything, I want a hub for a specific thing, and I'll go to that place accordingly.
I love discord, but so much information gets lost to it. I don't want to join to view things. I want to lurk on forums. I want to be a user who can log in and join a conversation by replying to a thread, even if that conversation was two days ago. I know discord has threads, it's not the same. I don't want to have to verify my account with a phone number. I understand safety and digital concerns, but I'm concerned about information like that with leaks everywhere, even with password managers.
I shouldn't have to pay subscriptions to use services and get locked out of old versions. My old disk copy of photoshop should work. I should want to upgrade eventually because I like photoshop and supporting the business. Adobe is a whole other can of worms here.
Streaming is so splintered across everything. Shows release so fast. Things don't get physical releases. I can't stream a movie I own digitally to friends because the share-screen blocks it, even though I own two digital copies, even though I own a physical copy.
I have an iPod, and I had to install a third party OS to easily put my music on it without having to tangle with iTunes. Spotify bricked hardware I purchased because they were unwillingly to upkeep it. They don't pay their artists. iTunes isn't even iTunes anymore and Apple struggles to upkeep it.
My TV shows me ads on the home screen. My dad lost access to eBook he purchased because they were digital and got revoked by the company distributing them. Hitman 1-3 only runs online most of the time. Flash died and is staying alive because people love it and made efforts to keep it up.
I have to click "not now" and can't click "no". I don't just get emails, they want to text me to purchase things online too. My windows start search bar searches online, not just my computer. Everything is blindly called an app now. Everything wants me to upload to the cloud. These are good tools! But why am I forced to use them! Why am I not allowed to own or control them?
No more!!!!! I love my iPod with so much storage and FLAC files. I love having all my fics on my harddrive. I love having USBs and backups. I love running scripts to gut suck stuff out of my Windows computer I don't want that spies on me. I love having forums. I love sending letters. I love neocities and webpages and webrings. I will not be scanning QR codes. Please hand me a physical menu. If I didn't need a smartphone for work I'd get a "dumb" phone so fast. I want things to have buttons. I want to use a mouse. I want replaceable batteries. I want the right to repair. I grew up online and I won't forget how it was!
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robbyykeene · 1 day ago
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Man I remember watching that fight between Robby and Johnny at the end of season 3 and thinking what a great parallel it was to the school fight. Like, Robby starting the fight. Johnny finishing it, hurting Robby even if accidentally. Thinking that would translate to the next season, force Johnny to reckon with what happened between Miguel and Robby at the school. Force Robby to reckon with it too. How you can seriously hurt someone and not mean to. How it doesn’t absolve you of responsibility but it does not make you irredeemably evil, either. Thinking that Johnny would ultimately work up the courage to apologize to Robby. That Robby would brush it off, saying he started it anyway. That Johnny would insist it didn’t matter, hurting Robby was still wrong, he should have had more control, and he’s sorry. And Robby would be forced to realize that he, too, needed to take accountability for what he did to Miguel and apologize. That he can do this while still forgiving himself for what happened. And that this wouldn’t fix everything. Johnny and Robby’s relationship would still be complicated. Miguel and Robby’s relationship would still be complicated. Miguel wouldn’t have to forgive Robby, and Robby wouldn’t have to forgive Johnny. But it was a starting point, at least. Crazy to think how in the end this parallel went nowhere at all
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scoupsakakitty · 1 day ago
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heyyyy could u write a dino x male reader (only if ur comfy doing it!!) where male reader is taller than dino but has no muscles whatsoever so dino teases him for it but dino however appreciates his body including his thighs
(any genre u want!!)
love youu🫶🫶
Lean and Strong | idol!Dino x Male!Reader | fluff
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Y/N had never been the most muscular guy. Sure, he was taller than Dino, but his frame was lean, built more for speed than raw strength. But Dino didn’t mind. In fact, Y/N’s lack of muscle was something he found endearing.
They were sitting together on the couch one evening, a movie playing in the background, but Dino’s attention was on something else entirely. He had his arm draped around Y/N’s shoulders, and every so often, he’d squeeze him just a little too tight, just to see Y/N squirm.
“Hey, I don’t know if you can handle me today,” Dino teased, glancing down at Y/N, his lips curling into that playful grin that always made Y/N’s heart flutter. “You’re looking a little… fragile.”
Y/N rolled his eyes, leaning into Dino’s touch but trying to act unaffected. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you very much,” he said, pretending to be offended. “You just have no faith in my strength.”
Dino chuckled, his gaze dropping to Y/N’s legs as they rested on the couch. “Strength, huh? I’m not sure I see any of it up here.” He tapped Y/N’s bicep lightly with his finger, and Y/N playfully swatted his hand away.
“But,” Dino added, his expression softening just a little, “I’ve gotta say, you’ve got one hell of a pair of thighs on you.” He ran his hand down Y/N’s leg, tracing the shape of his thigh with an almost reverent touch. “I can’t get over how strong they are. Seriously.”
Y/N’s cheeks turned pink at the compliment, even though Dino was only half-serious. “You just like them because they’re soft,” he teased, though his voice betrayed a hint of pride.
Dino leaned in closer, brushing his lips against Y/N’s temple in a quick, affectionate kiss. “Not just soft,” he murmured, his fingers still lightly resting on Y/N’s thigh. “They’re strong, too. You don’t have to have huge muscles to be impressive.”
Y/N smiled at the sincerity in Dino’s voice. He loved how Dino could make him feel so good about himself, even when it felt like he didn’t quite measure up in some areas. “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Dino pulled back slightly, giving him a warm smile. “You should. You’re perfect just the way you are. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Y/N’s heart melted at the words. He was used to Dino’s teasing, but the way he could balance it with these sweet, genuine moments made Y/N feel completely at ease in his arms. “You’re really something else, you know that?” Y/N said softly, gazing up at him.
Dino grinned, his thumb tracing circles on Y/N’s thigh. “I know. But hey, if you ever want me to help you bulk up a little,” he said with a wink, “I’m more than happy to lend a hand.”
Y/N laughed, shaking his head. “I think I’m good, thank you very much. But keep those compliments coming. I could get used to this.”
Dino gave him a playful shove, then pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around him. “Deal. But remember, Y/N… the real strength is in here.” He placed a hand on Y/N’s chest, just over his heart. “And I’ve always known that about you.”
Y/N’s chest swelled with affection. With Dino, he didn’t need muscles or anything else to feel strong. All he needed was this Dino’s teasing, his warmth, and the way they fit together so perfectly.
“Thanks, Dino,” Y/N whispered, resting his head on his shoulder. “I love you.”
Dino smiled, pressing a soft kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “Love you too.”
And in that moment, surrounded by soft teasing and heartfelt affection, Y/N felt stronger than ever.
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cjsmalley · 3 hours ago
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A Toy For Aronos:
Harry took Aronos by a hand and gently led her further into his shop; it was, after all, bigger on the inside.
He led her to a wall of stuffies, in all shapes and sizes and types, everything from aardvarks to zebras were represented, including magical creatures and creatures from popular culture.
He crouched beside her and spoke softly, “I want you to pick a toy, Aronos. Let the Force guide you.”
He and Anakin watched as she sank into the Force, using Anakin as an anchor to the Here and Now and Material World; Aronos scanned the wall of toys and floated, with neither man panicking quite yet, to grab an…
“Well, that’s fitting,” Harry muttered as Aronos floated to the ground while hugging a life-sized Espeon plushie.
 “The psychic type Eevee evolution, little on the nose,” Anakin muttered back but he was smiling as Aronos handed her toy to Harry and came out of the Force on her own, only tugging a little on Anakin to do so.
Harry took the toy gravely and brought them to his workshop, mumbling “Amethyst...and I think…yes San Palo wood…” as he grabbed more materials off shelves and from buckets.
He set the toy down on a worktable and set to work; first he pried off the fake gem in the forehead, a thing made of plastic and inserted a real amethyst instead after shaping it correctly and inscribing it with runes and glyphs.
“Anakin,” Harry had said seriously, tossing him the stone, “charge that up with the Force, as much as you can give it without it cracking.”
Anakin did as told, forcing power into the stone until the runes on the flat backside were glowing. Only then did Harry take it back and place it in the forehead of the toy.
While Anakin charged the stone, Harry had been shaping and inscribing a block of wood; it was taking the shape of a heart, an anatomically correct human heart.
It was small enough for the toy but still clearly a heart; all over it were more runes. Anakin was given the heart and told to charge it as well, without burning it.
Once the heart was charged, Harry made an incision into the chest of the toy and buried the heart in the fluffy stuffing. He lazily repaired the cut before casting more enchantments on it.
“Warming charm, self-repair charm, self-cleaning charm…the usual Hogwarts package,” Harry hummed as he cast the spells.
“Hogwarts package?” Anakin asked.
“Oh, yes. I have a policy that each incoming First Year is entitled to a free comfort object; blanket, toy, whatever they want. Better if they already have something they’re attached to, but they have the pick of the kids’ section of the shop,” Harry explained, “made it a policy after a buncha Sam’s friends wanted something like his hippo. Remember Barry the Hippo?”
“Yeah, wasn’t that some toy you picked up at a mundane market and enchanted specially for him?” Anakin leaned against the table, keeping an eye on the now curious Aronos. Aronos was watching her uncle work avidly.
“Where do you think I got the idea for my toy section?” Harry snorted, layering the last charms on his current project, “and my gifts to the kids of the family? Anyway…they’re done. One Seer friendly comfort toy. Should help her stay grounded.”
Harry turned and knelt, handing Aronos the toy and telling her to sleep with it every night.
She agreed solemnly.
Wished Away 9
Tylers meet Phantoms:
“Christ, Mum,” Rose said as she took in how Jackie, Pete, and Tony were dressed, “we’re just meetin’—”
“Royalty!” Jackie squeaked. They were all done up like they were meeting the Queen at Buckingham Palace itself!
“Honestly, Mum, they don’t care,” Rose rolled her eyes, grabbing her mother’s wrist and tugging her through the console room and to the wardrobe room, “I told ya ta dress casually. Let’s just hope the Ol’ Girl has clothes fer ya.”
It took about an hour to get everyone redressed, in things much more casual but still nice, before Rose led them back to the console room.
Jackie was clearly anxious, “Are ya—”
“’m sure, Mum. Danny an’ Sam don’t do formal unless they have ta. Unless you’re an annoying subject or someone threatenin’ war, ya don’t even have ta call ‘em by their titles. They’re just Danny an’ Sam ta family.”
“Lookie what I found,” Jenny bounded from the innards of the TARDIS, holding a tiny bike helmet.
She went to her toddler uncle and put it on him, making sure it fit right, “Landings in the Realms are worse than normal ones. The TARDIS does Her best but the Realms give her…nausea? A headache? She just doesn’t do good.”
“Oh, goody,” Jackie said lowly, hugging a strut for dear life already.
“Let me protect Anthony,” Bad Wolf came out, holding out her arms; without hesitation, Pete handed his son over.
Bad Wolf settled Tony in her arms, against her chest and shoulder, and then spread her feet and crouched slightly, clearly bracing for impact; she stayed steady even as the TARDIS began Her flight.
Everyone else was thrown about the console room, the Doctor and Jenny barely holding on to work the console, but Bad Wolf and Tony did not move an inch.
The landing was rough, just as Jenny said it would be, throwing even the Time Lords to the grated floor before the TARDIS stopped quaking.
Jenny recovered first and stood up, rubbing her shoulder, to peek out the doors, “We’re in the Palace. Uncle Danny and Aunt Sam are waiting…”
Slowly, everyone picked themselves up and Rose reemerged, straightening with some popping from her knees.
Jenny led the procession out, racing to hug a man and a woman, “Uncle Danny, Aunt Sam! How’re you?”
Danny and Sam chuckled and hugged her as one, “Good, doing good. You?”
“Perfect!”
She let go of them to drag Jackie, who was hesitant, forward, “This’s my Gran, Jackie. Mum’s side, duh. Completely human. He’s my step-granddad, Pete, and Mum’s holding my uncle, Tony.”
“Yer Majesties,” Jackie tried to curtsy even though she was in trousers, “an honor ta—”
“Oh, enough,” Sam chuckled, “didn’t they tell you? We don’t do formalities with family.”
“Family?” Jackie’s eyes were wide, “I know Rose said—but—”
“We count Clockwork as family,” Danny explained, “and he’s claimed the Doctor as family. The Doctor and Jenny. Rose’s basically married in by this point. Common-law, you understand. That makes her family our family. Welcome to the Palace, your home in the Infinite Realms.”
“My god,” Pete muttered, somewhat disbelieving.
“Not a god, not yet anyways,” Danny winked.
“Where’s Dani?” Jenny burst out, “Is she still in school?”
Sam grinned, “With Anakin, in the nursery. We let her stay home today.”
“Oh, Gran! Can I introduce Tony to Anakin? Please!” Jenny nearly begged.
“Anakin’s our youngest,” Danny explained kindly, “around Tony’s age, actually. We also have a nanny looking after them, Nanny Clara. He’d be perfectly safe.”
“Well…” Jackie looked to her husband, who nodded, “if you’re sure.”
Jenny cheered and took Tony from Rose, dashing off with him deeper into the Palace.
“Jenny knows the Palace as well as anyone,” Sam assured, “and if she gets lost, she can flag down a servant for help. She’s heading directly for the nursery. It’s the most defensible part of the Palace.
Danny stood up, helping Sam, “C’mon, we can talk over food; stay close, Tylers. Doctor?”
“Rose and I can bring up the rear,” the Doctor agreed, taking Rose’s hand as they began walking.
The Palace was a gothic masterpiece, in a very literal sense, though even Sam had wearied of all the gloom and had sought artists and artwork to fill the halls, soft, plush carpets and tapestries to keep the warmth, glassworks to fill the once barred windows. Statues and busts dotted the hallways, some classical, some avant garde
Masters had given their masterpieces, their magnum opuses; they were paid handsomely of course, in either coin or material.
Oils, watercolors, acrylics, textiles, glass, all created for Her Majesty the Ghost Queen. For His Majesty the Ghost King.
It wasn’t yet a riot of color, nor would it ever be, but it was more alive.
Jackie gasped and the group stopped, turning as one to see what had captured her attention.
“When they said the family was huge…”
Ah, it was the most recent family portrait; all the children were gathered around Danny and Sam, all in formal wear.
“We…sometimes people sell the souls of children to me,” Danny started, causing her and Pete to whip around to him in horror, “I know, it’s horrible, isn’t it? But anyways, we adopt the kids. Only Dani—Danielle—isn’t adopted.”
He pointed out each child and gave their backstory.
“Good Lord, you were young!” Pete said at Damian’s story.
“Old enough to be king,” Danny shrugged helplessly, “it…it wasn’t easy, we had help, so much help, and we made mistakes…”
“All parents do,” Jackie told him softly.
“So we’ve been told,” Sam smiled just as softly, “and we’ve learned and made new ones with each kid.”
Danny coughed and continued to point out kids and tell stories, until all had been covered and then they moved on.
As they neared the dining room, Danielle and Jenny joined them with each holding a toddler.
“Oh my,” Jackie said, taking in the Anakin Skywalker; she knew who he grew up to be, or would have if he had not been adopted.
“We’re hungry, Dad,” Danielle said.
Danny waved them into the dining room where the smaller table was already set for a meal; there were two chairs with booster seats and Jenny and Danielle put Tony and Anakin in them before sitting beside them and helping them get food.
The group chatted over the meal, Jackie and Pete slowly relaxing at how easy going the Royals were, and generally had good cheer.
After the meal was done, Jenny asked, “Do we put their photo up on the family wall now? I know you’ve got me, Dad, and Mum…”
Danny chuckled, “We can, if they’re okay with it.”
“Family wall?” Pete questioned.
“We keep walls of pictures of the extended family,” Sam explained easily, “you know, like Rose, the Doctor, and Jenny. Harry’s and Neville’s parents. Damian’s paternal birth-family. The Royal Portrait is just the immediate royal family. The walls are for everyone and everything else.”
Danny and Sam led the group out of the dining room and down another hallway; the walls were plastered with photographs. Some were professional, most were candid and amateur.
A common camera sat on a small round table; a high-end camera but nothing too expensive or professional.
Danny picked it up, saying, “If Jackie, Pete, and Tony don’t mind—”
Jackie decided it would be a family photograph and dragged the Doctor in; Rose and Jenny came without complaint.
Danny took a set of pictures.
After that was done, it was decided it was time for the Tylers to leave, taking pity on the still disgruntled TARDIS.
They were, however, invited to the next family gathering.
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hoonigiris · 3 days ago
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wishing you the merriest (teaser)
pairing: l. heeseung x f!reader
wc: 1.3k out of ~13k
summary: between handling all the incoming holiday orders from your bakery, warding off your best friend's attempts at matchmaking, and actively avoiding the ex you're stuck living with for another six months, christmas is the least of your worries. that is, until heeseung's parents come into town. million dollar question: what's worse than having your ex's parents stay with you? answer: having your ex's parents stay with you, not knowing that you two have already broken up.
notes: hallmark movie coded, exes-to-lovers, fake dating au, sorta angst, mostly not! ok, so you got me. it is in fact NOT christmas anymore (it's not even december anymore) but hopefully this fic revitalizes your leftover holiday spirit. everyone knows that christmas starts after thanksgiving and ends in february!!! send me an ask if you want to be added to the taglist!
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So maybe Sunoo was right. Maybe you can’t avoid Heeseung forever.
If there was one thing you hated, it was hearing the taunting ‘I told you so’ echoing in the back of your mind. Unfortunately for you, that is the only thing running through your head as you stand at the doorway of your room, face-to-face with Lee Heeseung. Ex of your nightmares, ground zero of your many woes.
“Hi.” He has the decency to look embarrassed, at least.
You blink. “Hey…?”
You stare at each other for a few seconds longer. You shift your weight from one leg to the other, hand still on the doorknob. Tuna, your cat, looks at the scene from behind, curious.
Maybe you should end this now, as to not further confuse the children through the divorce. Or whatever they say. (‘No,’ you picture yourself saying to Tuna through a sack of catnip, ‘Mommy and Daddy are not getting back together.’)
“Do you… need something?” you try civilly. Whatever it was, surely it could have been communicated through a note stuck on the fridge or something. To not confuse the kids, you repeat to yourself. And to not confuse me.
You can’t even remember the last time you talked. Probably around the time he was moving all his stuff from your shared bedroom to his office. Hell, you can’t even remember the last time you saw each other in the same vicinity, considering you were always at work, and Heeseung was always either in his office or at the university or something. Never here. Never where you could see him.
“I, um,” Heeseung starts awkwardly, shifting back and forth. His eyes drift everywhere around him, maybe to find what to say, but eventually he seems to make up his mind. “…How are you?”
“Seriously?”
It comes out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, a bit harsher than if you would have said intentionally. He cringes at the rebuke (Heeseung 2-0 for self-awareness, at least), hurrying to apologize.
“Hi, I know, sorry. I didn’t know what to say.”
“Heeseung,” you say, not unkindly. it’s rather plain, the way you say his name now. “Why are you talking to me?”
What could you possibly want after five months of not speaking to each other? You’re surprised he’s even home at this hour, considering he always got back from work late at night. You always made sure to get all your stuff done in the shared space before he returned home, to avoid—well, to avoid whatever this is.
Heeseung pinches his nose and sighs deeply. “Ok well, there’s no easy way to say this, but…” Like ripping off a bandaid. “Remember my mom?” 
What kind of fucking bandaid— “Of course I remember your mom.”
“Great. Well,” Heeseung continues, sheepish at the poor buildup. “She may or may not have heard that my grad program gives us a holiday break, and it just so happens that this year is the first year that my parents aren’t going on a fancy Europe trip during the holidays.”
You nod slowly.
“And, well, the reason they’re not is because—okay, do you remember my grandma?”
“Heeseung.”
“Sorry, okay. Long story short.” He takes in a deep breath and says everything else in one breath. “It’s my grandma’s 100th birthday this year and you know she’s a Christmas baby so we always celebrate her birthday and Christmas together, and you know, it’s her 100th, haha, and she lives close by, sorta, so—”
“Heeseung.”
“My parents want to crash at our place until New Years.”
“Okay...” You could work with that, ex-almost-in-law awkwardness aside. Definitely something he could have brought up through post-it, but you appreciate the transparency. “That’s fine. I mean, you’re probably going to have to sleep on the couch if they take your room, but that’s up to you guys—”
“They don’t know we broke up.”
Pin drop silence. You churn the words carefully in your head, Sunoo’s background loopings of ‘I told you so’ slowly getting replaced with ‘They don’t know we broke up—they don’t know we broke up—they don’t know we broke up—they—’
“What?!”
Tuna startles at the loud noise, ears flattening, eyes darting from you to Heeseung to you again. Mommy—Daddy—Mommy—Daddy. so much for not confusing the kids.
“I just—” Heeseung’s embarrassed. He should be, considering the fact that he’s been lying to his parents for the past five months, or at the very least, omitting the truth. The very important, crucial truth. “I meant to.”
“Tell them,” you insist. Heeseung falters. “Tell them before they book the plane.”
And then Heeseung presses his lips together, and shakes his head. “I can’t.”
You would have flung your hands into your hair and started pulling at the strands if you weren’t such a calm, collected, and mature individual. So you start pacing.
“Ok, fine, so they already booked the plane. Tell them now, so they know what kind of mess they’re about to walk into.” Heeseung looks a little offended at the description, but at least he knows better to keep his mouth shut. You pace a few more rounds, before you turn to him. “Well, what are you waiting for?”
“Y/N, i can’t.”
You swing your head at him with wide, wild eyes. “And why the hell not?!”
Heeseung winces, and says weakly, “My mom really likes you.”
You gape at him.
“Listen,” Heeseung stresses (as if he has any right to be stressed, that filthy liar). “I was going to tell them, okay? I don’t like lying to them any more than you do, but what was i supposed to say? ‘Hey Mom, long time no talk! My girlfriend of five years broke up with me but oh, by the way, we’re still living together for another seven months. Love you too!’” 
Well, when he puts it like that.
You did exactly that, but your parents did give you a disappointed speech, and your mom never fails to give you a reproachful glance or two every time she’s reminded of your living situation, so maybe Heeseung was onto something.
“And you know my mom,” Heeseung adds. “She…”
“Would not take it well,” you finish, morosely. There wouldn’t be screaming, but there would be crying. Lots and lots of crying. and you liked his mom—you didn’t want to see her cry, or else you’d be like—you don’t know—the most evil ex-almost-in-law in history. The ex that ruined christmas.
You cannot be the ex that ruined christmas.
“Fine,” you grit out eventually, the ultimate seal in ending your peaceful solitude. “I’ll play nice and pretend to be…” you gesture vaguely, “ …with you…again.”
Heeseung sighs, so very relieved. He almost moves forward to give you a hug, or clasp you on the shoulder, or something, but he decides against it, arms falling awkwardly at his sides. You watch it linger, and you don’t know whether to be grateful or strangely disappointed. “Thank you,” he says, still, even without the proximity. “Really, I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you wave off, smiling thin. “I like your parents anyway, it’ll be good to see them again. We can talk details later.”
Heeseung shoots you another smile, leans down to scratch Tuna behind the ears, and walks away. Finally.
You look down at Tuna, gazing up at you with large pupils that fiend for more Churu. It isn’t the first time the thought ‘oh, to be a cat’ has crossed your mind recently, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.
Tuna pads up to you, purring and rubbing his face against your leg. Distantly, the thought ‘oh, to be a cat with divorced parents that have to pretend to not be divorced anymore’ appears in your head, and it sounds infinitely less appealing. It seems like no one in this household is winning this month.
“Oh Tuna,” you sigh, squatting down to meet him at eye level. “What the hell did I just get myself into?”
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satancopilotsmytardis · 2 days ago
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I remembered that blurb about Tomura having seasonal sex toys, so what holiday themed horniness do you think he'd get Dabi into for new years lol? 
I was thinking about edging him with anal beads all day so he doesn't even think about why Tomu's counting down as he pushes them in again, until he kisses him and says happy new year while Dabi's still shaking on the brink of his orgasm. Made me snicker
Lol that would be so good! It would also be very funny if Shig was very seriously contemplating things for the day leading up to it and Spinner asked him was was up, thinking if was work related and Tomura just says he can decide if he should edge Dabi until midnight or force him to have an orgasm every hour on the hour so he gets to bring in the new year absolutely ruined. Poor guy immediately says, I think that should have stayed an inside thought
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juullllssss · 2 days ago
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Tarot reader! Reader x König
Eremit= Hermit
Häschen= bunny
meine Liebe= my dear
It was getting quite late, the sun was already setting. You sat at your desk, shuffling your precious cards again. It had been a long day of your weekend. A lot of young girls who wanted to get a love reading and men, who clearly just wanted to show what a stupid thing tarot reading was, came by today. Now you pondered if you should stop for today, already thinking about your warm home and a good meal. The flap of your tent lifted and looking up you had to hold yourself back from gasping. The biggest men you had ever seen entered. Not only in Hight was he tall he was muscular, too. The word Mounten pops into your mind. Before you could embarrass yourself he is already sitting down.
"Hallo, my friend was here before, i would like to get a reading as well." You were surprised by his quiet voice, as if he was used to compensate his Size with a softer voice, maybe to not scare you? Obviously you could not tell him that you were rather intrigued then scared. After he made it clear who he meant, you remembered the other masked men who visited you. For a short moment you wonder what it is with these men and their masks.
With a short affirmation you began sorting your cards. In the end he choose two cards, Ten of Wands and the Hermit.
With one look you could see that he was very confused...how cute.
"Don't worry, like i told your friend before, but the cards are only a tool, they just give you nudges to confront your own mind, maybe self reflect on yourself. They are not absolut."
That seems to get him to relax. Looking up at you, you noticed these piecing blue eyes of his. Normally it would creep you out...but on him it only looked handsome... just as on the man before him.
You clear your throat, "So what i can tell is this, the first card could be your generell mood or the situation right now, with the ten of wards that would suggest you struggle with something in your life, you carry a heavy burden."
He watches you silently, "mhm, you could say that....is there something else?"
"Yes" you gulp getting a little nervous from his intense stare, you clench your thighs together. "Even to you are carrying so much you still remain strong, you didn't break under the pressure."
He seem to soak everything in, his eyes more expressive then you would have thought. You were just happy that he seemed to really think about your interpretation, something you didn't get from all your costumers.
"What about the second card?" His voice is now more relaxed, a little deeper but still quiet. You quite enjoyed the sound of it. You decided to be brave and maybe even get into a conversation about your interest.
"A yes, the Eremit, what would you interpret yourself?" You shyly looked up, relieved when you saw him tilting his head in Thought, eyes scanning the illustration on the card. He really took this serious, which made you surprisingly happy. He shifted in his seat and spoke again.
"Mhm a Eremit...Isn't that someone really lonely? An Outcast?" Something in his voice made you look up, studying him seriously. You had heard this type of tone more then once in your readings. Hurt....doubt, something suppressed...
"No, that is not all that is to it, they might be alone but they are also wise, they are in tune with everything around them, call it nature or the subconscious. But they transform themselves, find something...bigger then them." You didn't really know how articulate fully how much more it was, "they might be alone but to reflect not isolate themselves..." Before you could talk more he spoke up again.
"it is okay Häschen, i know what you mean....and i think i know what it means, too."
Now it was your turn to relax. He still studied the cards and after a moment he looked up at you again.
"Thank you meine Liebe, i see why Nikto was so interested."
As your jaw began to drop you could see his eyes wrinkle under his mask. He really was handsome....
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the-thieves-gambit · 1 day ago
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"Ah, so you admit you just try to be the opposite of other guys to show that 'you're not like other guys'. Noted." It was a joke as she shook her head. "Knew you'd slip up sooner or later." It was her turn to scoff. "One of the biggest? I should be the biggest." Perhaps if she kept it up she would be one of the things that annoyed him so much that he'd eventually tire of her.
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For a moment she thought he'd finally give in to sleep until he banged on the wall. Laughing at the words that came from his mouth, slightly awakening Dolly who just readjusted before closing her eyes again, she said. "How would you know if that was right or not, what if they were just like, lets pretend and get this over with? What makes you the master of other peoples sex lives?" Moving to lay on her side with one arm around Dolly, she propped her phone against a book on her nightstand and resumed absentmindedly petting and scratching behind the dogs ear. "It's okay, she was too good for them anyway. She'd be like Dug from Up, being bullied by the dogs that take themselves to seriously." Another movie that she had recently watched with her nephew over an app that they had found to be able to watch movies together. "Ugg, fjandans," she muttered rolling her eyes. "Forget I said anything, put your face under the pillow instead. I don't want to see any piece of your face. In fact end this video call." Her hands came up, one to cover Dolly's face and one over hers, it was childish but she was also tired.
The irritation didn't last long, softening at his words. "You're looking at it right now. There's not much to miss. Ah, just say you're just waiting to see me be scared of an animal." Blue. 55. "Hmm, I'll have to look over where I keep your stuff. I usually don't pay attention to the things you leave behind, just make sure its clean and put it on the shelf in the hallway for you to take later. And if it is lost, then it's on you for not keeping better track of it. Can't help it if the dryers in the laundromat down the street have a tendency of eating clothes." She was teasing, she remembered the exact sweater, she had laughed as she folded it.
A cave was still not her idea of an adventure, but she was sure that once she showed what a bore she was with the animal thing, that he would cancel the cave thing too. "Sure," she covered up a yawn. "Why the hell not." Snuggling closer to Dolly, she gave a small shrug of her shoulders. "Dolly will come with us right? If she comes I'll be fine." That was a lie but focusing on something else would help. "And I bail when I want. No promise of sticking the thing out. I don't like caves. What makes it so special anyway? Caves are caves, unless you're talking about a cenote, then I'm out. I don't mess with that." Jennifer's tales of Chaak lurking in them, along with some used as burial places and deemed sacred kept her out of them as a kid and stuck with her into adult hood. As much as she didn't believe in a religion of a kind, she respected what people deemed sacred.
"You know what we should do," she offered up. "Go to the Art Museum. I think they have a new exhibit." Then she perked up slightly. "Or see a lighthouse!" But even then it was a small exclamation, having Dolly around to keep her still gave her no other choice but to give in to the ache inside and sleep instead of wander around. After stifling another yawn, she added. "You said there were more around here right?"
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"Fair but that still doesn't take away from the fact that I don't tune you out when you talk. Can you imagine how big of an asshole I'd be if I'd pull what every other nonsense guy pulls." He clicked his tongue and shook his head. Even though she couldn't see him. Green eyes were the only visible color in the dark.
He scoffed and covered up a sneeze. "You are one of the biggest smartasses I know," he laughed just thinking of all the ways she'd challenge him and would take zero shit. "Excuse me then, you're the brunette Scully. Your quote on quote hot women of America will find their people. I have no doubt." He propped himself up on his elbows as he momentarily looked up at the ceiling and pounded the wall. The couple next to his room were having sex and he had spent the better part of the hour hearing the partner try to get to a specific spot. Wally being over it he yelled out a loud, "left! Left, my man." After a second he heard a grunt in the form of a thank you and the other person yelling an enthusiastic yes, finally. The fact he could tell from a wall over and without looking at whatever the fuck was happening over there was a testament to how many times he had to hear his siblings get it on from their adjoining rooms when they went on vacation.
Going back to Dolly he hummed. "She may have failed the class but she was very smart and knew what to do. She was just too sweet. As you can see by her snuggling up to you." He laughed finding amusement in her words. "Ah so you want to look into my eyes. I knew it." There was a sweet satisfaction over knowing she liked the hair parted and liked to see his eyes.
"Because I missed seeing your face. It's been a long week and I honestly can't wait to get home and get to our adventure week."he answered honestly. Though he knew she wasn't truly asking. "Yes, there. It's dark blue but not navy and it has the etchings of the 55th anniversary on the back. No, it's not Mickey. That one is at Melissa's house. She never gave it back. This one has Pooh Bear and Tigger on the log from splash mountain. I had it on that night I brought you that case of the stolen artifacts from the Natural History Museum. I wasn't in my suit so I came with that hoodie. You better not have lost it."
"You enter and walk about i don't know maybe, 4 feet and go around the corner to find lights. I don't think it's that deep. Mostly inclusive for everyone. According to the website no low ceilings and no crawling spaces where you'd feel trapped. I think thatd be a major turn off for people who hate enclosed spaces. Is this you being more warmed up to the idea? Thumb is over the book button."
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camillelespanayesbtch · 3 days ago
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Seven Devils All Around Me (18+)
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Chapter Content: Eventual smut, graphic depictions of murder and violence, character death, power imbalance, manipulation, addiction, grief, discussion of sexual violence.
Chapter Content: Magic sedation, kidnapping, mind manipulation, mention of murder
Word Count: 2212
Agatha Harkness x fem!reader
I will block minors and ageless bios.
Chapter Three
Thanks to the little trinket of yours in her possession, it wasn’t terribly difficult to track you down through trace magic. Although, she didn’t really have to use it, not when you left such a delectable little trail of carnage in your wake. It was strangely comforting that she isn’t the only covenless witch- Us gals have to stick together, don’t you think? Nothing a little murder can’t fix, hm? Although the rate with which you’re going through witches is a little alarming, only because you should be leaving something for her. Selfish girl. Oh dear, sounding too much like your mother there? Forgive me. Not that it matters, you can’t hear her, and if you did- Oh well then… What a delicious scenario that would be… Now now, [Redacted] don’t get ahead of yourself, you still have to find the girl.
She takes a breath; this would be so much easier if she knew how to drive a car. Could she hire someone to drive her around? Although that would be quite expensive. Ha! She’s been alive for centuries, if she didn’t have a fat load of money, she should just jump into traffic. She gets her phone out and orders an uber, she’ll use a special touch to convince them to drive her around- a little harmless fun, hm? Oh don’t pull that face, she’ll save her real special touch just for you, sweet thing.
She smiles when an SUV pulls up in front of her, opening the door she leans in, looking at the man, “I have a favor to ask,” she says, “I need you to drive me a little longer than usual. Just call your-“ She gestures to his phone, wiggling her fingers somewhat, “Whoever is important in your life and tell them you’ll be busy. Kay?” She gets in the front and puts her seatbelt on, “Ah- No, no arguing, please. I don’t want a migraine.” She waves her hand slightly, the man’s eyes glowing briefly before he reaches for his phone, “Thatta boy. So nice to see a man do something he’s told to right away instead of moaning about it.”
He spends most of the drive trying to convince his wife? Girlfriend? Long-term partner? She didn’t really care that much, but whoever it is certainly wasn’t having it. Who cares? Seriously, who cares this much about someone going on a trip? And that trip is going to pay handsomely once she finds you. Or she could just- forget to pay him. What’s he going to do? As soon as she’s done, he’s not going to have a single clue as to where he is, let alone how he got there. His little rat brain will go back to thinking about the disgusting things men like him usually think about- Tits, booze, and how to cheat on their wives and get away with it, then gaslight her when she gets an STI check, and it comes back positive with gonorrhea by telling her she must have sat on the toilet after someone who had it. Maybe she’ll make him crash his car once she’s done, shouldn’t be too difficult, after all, men are simple, simple creatures. Dangle a little peach in their face and they start barking like dogs, frothing at the mouth for the chance to sink their teeth into delicate flesh. Now, that isn’t to say that she would never do such a thing, but at the end of the day, she’s a woman, and women, to put it simply, do things far, far better than any silly little man could ever. She loves marking pretty little things up, and she’s sure you’ll be next. You won’t say no to her. Not for very long anyway.
Tsk, don’t pull that face. There’s a difference between her doing it, and some man pawing all over you while you’re drunk and intoxicated, likely roofied by whatever little chemist friend they have supplying them. No, remember? She’s a woman. An incredibly attractive, beautiful, goddess of a woman. You’ll take one look at her and be drooling, she’s sure of it. Nobody has been able to resist her charms, her suave, her je ne sais quoi.  
She hums as she gets the man to follow her directions, the two of them driving for at least two hours before the track leads to a dirt road, “Stop the car,” she tells him. She waits until the car stop before opening her door and getting out, “Relax here for a while. Listen to some music, enjoy yourself- NO! Not like that. God, you are disgusting.” She slams the door shut, since when did enjoy yourself come to mean that? Men really can’t help themselves. She takes your toy from her pocket, feeling the thrum of energy under her fingertips. She lets out a purr, what a wicked little thing you are. Energy like a nuclear reactor and she couldn’t wait to witness it in person. She walks down the dirt road, it quickly turning into an overgrown, ivy and bramble covered path that claws at her coat and exposed skin.
The now wooded area was a cacophony of sound, birds calling to one another in a language she didn’t care to know- she wasn’t a green witch, why should she care about such things? There was crunching of twigs and leaves that likely were from the deer that populated the area, usually they were quiet, but assuming they feel safe in their natural habitat, the need for silence was unnecessary. Part of her felt a fondness for the gentle animals, drawn in by the softness in their eyes, but another part thought that they were weak and easy targets, their gentle nature making them vulnerable to being torn apart, sharp teeth bearing down on their tender skin, rending flesh from bone. Nobody has the fondness for the beasts that need to kill to survive, to live a full life. A tale as old as time.
She pauses for a moment, slowing her breathing down as to not break the silence that had lulled over the forest. She tilts her head slightly as she listens, her eyes closing to help her focus, waiting for the faintest of sounds that would indicate that you are in here too. Ah. There. The corner of her mouth twitches, turning upwards in a faint smirk as she hears the familiar sound of screaming followed by the whoosh as a burst of energy bursts through the trees. The leaves and branches don’t sway from it, it wasn’t a physical thing, more of a sensation that only attuned witches can feel, yet the explosion created by you was- Spot the difference, little witch. Her eyes open and she feels her body fill with desire, she needed that. She needed what you have, and she is going to take it. Every. Last. Drop.
The witch runs her tongue over her bottom lip, letting out a hum before heading in the direction of the blast. The closer she drew to you, the warmer it became, the familiar heat that only comes from fire. She can hear the crackling of wood as the heat makes the sap in the wood pop and break the bark, the leaves shriveling up as they’re consumed leaving behind nothing but a whisper of what they once were. She can see a newly formed clearing through the smoldering trees, many thinned out from the blast, and in the middle, you were standing there, your head turned up to face the sky, eyes shut. Oh how you look so glorious, a faint glow to your skin, her own skin prickling as she feels the immense energy radiating from you.
She carefully approaches you, being careful with each placement of her feet as to not step on anything that would give away her position. The faint smell of burning flesh hits her nose, had she not known they were human, she would have thought you had wiped out a wandering sounder of boars. The closer she drew to you, the more her fingertips crackled with energy. While it is incredibly tempting to antagonize you now, suck you dry, she wanted things to last a little longer.
Just as you open your eyes, she reaches out, purple flowing freely from her fingers and creeping towards you. The confusion in your eyes is delicious, “Oh sweetheart,” she chuckles, “There’s plenty of time for questions where we’re going. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” She winks at you as her magic breaks through your weak walls and enters your mind, your irises turning a deep purple as it takes hold.
You barely had the opportunity to react, your only thought being, “Who are you?” Why dear, I’m [Redacted] but that’s only for me to know right now, okay? Rest. Sleep. You need it. A little firecracker like you can’t go around blowing up like a poorly managed reactor and not exhaust yourself. Although the consumption of other people’s energy would keep you going for a while, eventually you will need to sleep, and then the craving will come back stronger than before.
Her magic softens your landing as you succumb to sleep, the witch standing over you and watching you rest. Your features were soft, no sign of anguish, grief, anger- Nothing. Just peace. Even your thoughts were quiet instead of that headache inducing overlapping of voices. She crouches down, brushing the back of her hand against your cheek, “No escaping me. You’ll thank me later, I’m sure.”
A cloud of purple envelops you both as she takes you both back to her house, the witch laying you down on the bed she recently added to her basement. Concrete was more flame resistant than her guest bedroom, and she recently had that remodeled, so she wasn’t about to let some nuclear reactor blow it up. “Welcome to your new home, Yn.”
While you sleep, she takes the time to try and make the basement a little more accommodating for you, restocking the small fridge-freezer with fresh fruit, drinks, some snacks and ready to eat meals. The little cupboard she fills with other snack items both salty and sweet, as well as putting sanitary items in the other one. While there is no bathroom down here for you, she still wanted you to be able to wash yourself even if it’s just with baby wipes. She turns and leans against the counter, watching you sleep. It must have been your first restful sleep since you killed your coven’s leaders, the witch having clouded your mind enough to keep the reminders of your crimes at bay. It wouldn’t do you any good to be constantly thinking of that, seeing your mother’s face burn and shrivel. She knew what that was like, the flashbacks still haunt her from her mother’s death, and while she hated her mother- there is still pain there. You will carry a similar pain for the rest of your life too.
She takes one last glance of you before pushing off the counter and heading upstairs, turning the basement light off then locking the door behind her. While she had anticipated it would take longer to find you than it had, she was also aware that you couldn’t help yourself. You were going out into the world looking for a fight, looking for men to lure to their demise. Oh no, no, don’t think for a second she is judging you. No, darling, no, far from it. How else do you think she has survived for as long as she has, hm? A girl’s gotta eat.
Get your mind out of the gutter, while she does have a penchant for pussy, she wasn’t meaning that kind of eating. No, the eating that comes from draining every ounce of energy from witches who got too big for their britches. The kind that satiates her magic use and fuels her lust for power. You can never have too much power, can you? And while claims that you couldn’t help it fell from your lips that fateful night, everyone knew better, didn’t they? That as soon as someone pissed you off or slighted you in some way, you just had to goad them into attacking you so it looked like you were defending yourself. Sure that friend of yours deserved it, and those boys from the recent Coven, but the rest? Oh darling… You just have a bloodlust- even a vampire would find stiff competition with you. Not that they were real, then again, people still think witches are just weirdos buying ‘potions’ and ‘spells’ from Etsy- those people were often oblivious to the true nature of the things they were dabbling in. Tempting fate, inviting energy into their lives that they mightn’t want. Vulnerable. Vulnerability, naivety, traits she found entirely too enticing, easiest way to- Ah, but there she goes again, talking about herself.
This isn’t about you [Redacted], this is about the little wolf in sheep’s clothing you have locked away in your basement for safe keeping. But for her, for her you will be a pretty little lamb, doing whatever she wants whether you like it or not. Hopefully you won’t fight for long, although she imagines it would make things far more interesting if you did. While she pretends like- Oh no, she better keep that little tidbit to herself. You’ll find out eventually. She will just have to be patient. Something she isn’t particularly good at. Practice makes perfect, baby. Practice makes perfect.
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mytragedyperson · 24 days ago
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Did I ever talk about the horrific body horror type shit I found in a BNHA x OC fanfic? Like I wasn't prepared for it but it was really cool but also just horrific to think about? Well allow me to discuss than now. If body horror type things disgust you, maybe skip this post. Like I'm not going into too much detail but, you know, it's fairly gross so if that's not for you, maybe skip this one. If you've ever read Freeze Frame by good old Strawhat_Pirate, who I've mentioned before because I love their BNHA fics, you may know where this is going. Hint: Monoma. Congratulations, you now have a memory that you may not have thought about since reading it, unless that didn't help at all. Again I may have discussed this before but, well, its time to discuss it again.
So let me paint a picture for those who haven't read Freeze Frame or did reas it but need their memory refreshed. Freeze Frame is a BNHA x Female OC fanfiction. There's a lot that happens in this fic, a lot of it traumatising for the characters and its fairly angsty. At first, it seems like the OC is going to get with Shinsou but she ends up getting with Bakugou instead. The friend group is the OC, AKA Lillian Faust, shinsou Hitoshi, Neito Monoma. Todoroki, Bakugou, Deku and denki later join the friend group. There are also adults involved, but most of them are OCs or would spoil other things, and I really want there to still be surprises for those who choose to read it.
So it's time for the apprenticeships. And Monoma, in this fic, likes boys and likes Hitoshi. When he first starts exploring this, the apprentice ships are coming up, he applies to join Jay (I believe his hero name is Songbird or something), an openly gay hero. At first, things seem to be going well for Monoma, he seems to be learning about his sexuality and having fun, he even goes to a pride parade with Jay and meets his husband. I'm sure the husband is named but I can't remember his name.
Then, for a few chapters, nothing. No Monoma POV. The only mentions of him come from his friends who haven't heard from him. Other than that, he's just gone, until he drags himself into a hospital. Now he is dead, or at least he should be, bit then it turns out he's not. Turns out Jay, and everyone in his agency, were killed, including Monoma, who I'm pretty sure was decapitated. "Well, mytragedyperson, what happened? How is he still alive?"
Let's turn our attention for a moment to Jay's husband, shall we? Jay's husband has a very interesting quirk. He can essentially make people immortal, as long as he's in contact with them. And he's been missing since the attack on the agency. "So what? Was Jay in contact with Monoma when he was decapitated or after?"
Technically, yes. See, Jay's husband, along with about four or five others, have been turned into nomus. Now, let's recall, Monoma's quirk, shall we? He can temporarily copy the quirk of anyone he touches.
What does this have to do with body horror? Well it turns out, someone had a little fun with Monoma's organs, as each of the people turned into a nomu has had one of their organs put in Monoma, and I think, recieved one of Monoma's in return. Including Monoma now having Jay's husband's heart. So Jay's husband's heart is, technically, always in contact with Monoma, who is constantly copying his quirk and, in turn, keeping the nomu alive. And he can hear Jay's husband and possibly the others in his head. So the nomu are immortal and also Monoma is functionally immortal but also kinda technically a zombie. This, right here, is a horrifying thought. And the thing is, with a shitty writer, it would sound dumb. But because it's revealed piece by piece and treated seriously, it becomes yet another traumatic event.
Also it's a really cool idea even if the idea does give me some sort of crisis. And it's stupidly smart in the villains' part.
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hinamie · 5 months ago
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thank u canon plant nerd megumi for my life
bonus:
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anotherhumaninthisworld · 3 months ago
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Historians having takes on frev women that make me go 😐 compilation
Sexually frustrated in her marriage to a pompous civil servant much older than herself, [Madame Roland] may have found Danton’s celebrated masculinity rather uncomfortable. Danton (1978) by Norman Hampson, page 77.
The Robespierres sent their sister to Arras because that was their hometown, the family home, where they had relatives, uncles, aunts and friends, like Buissart who they didn’t cease to remain in correspondence with, even in the middle of the Terror. There, among them, Charlotte would not be alone; she would find advice, rest, the peace necessary to heal her nervousness and animosity. Away from Mme Ricard, who she hated, away from Mme Duplay, who she detested, she would enjoy auspicious calmness. It is Le Bon that the Robespierres will charge with escorting their sister to this neccessary and soothing exile. […] If there is a damning piece in Charlotte Robespierre's case, it is this one (her interrogation, held July 31 1794). She seems to be caught in the act of accusing this Maximilien whom she rehabilitates in her Memoirs. She is therefore indeed a hypocrite, unworthy of the great name she bears, and which she dishonors the very day after the holocaust of 10 Thermidor. Charlotte Robespierre et Guffroy (1910) in Annales Révolutionnaires, volume 3 (1910) page 322, and Charlotte Robespierre et ses mémoires (1909) page 93-94, both by Hector Fleishmann.
Elisabeth, as she was popularly called, was barely past her twelfth birthday, younger even by three years than Barere’s own mother when she was given in marriage. On the following day the guests assembled again in the little church of Saint-Martin at midnight to attend the wedding ceremony of the handsome charmer and the bewildered child. Dressed in white, clasping in her arms a yellow, satin-clad  doll that Bertrand had given her — so runs the tradition — she marched timidly to the altar, looking more like a maiden making her first communion than a woman celebrating a binding sacrament. Perhaps the  doll, if doll there was, filled her eye, but certainly she could not fail to note how handsome her husband was. Bertrand Barere; a reluctant terrorist (1962) by Leo Gershoy, page 32.
The young nun who bore the name of Hébert did not hide her fate. She did not wish to prolong a life stifled from her childhood in the cloister, branded in the world by the name she bore, fighting between horror and love for the memory of her husband, unhappy everywhere. Histoire des Girondins (1848) by Alphonse de Lamartine, volume 8, page 60.
Lucile in prison showed more calmness than Camille. Before the tribunal, she seemed to possess neither fear nor hope, she denied having taken an active role in the prison conspiracy. What did it matter to her the answer they were trying to extract from her? They said they wanted her guilty? Very well! She would be condemned and join Camille. This was what she said again when she was told that she would suffer the same fate as her husband: ”Oh, what joy, in a few hours I’m going to see Camille again!” Camille et Lucile Desmoulins: un couple dans la tourmente (1986) by Jean Paul Bertaud, page 293.
What did it matter to Lucile whether she was accused or defended? She had no longer any pretext for living in this world. She was one of those heroines of conjugal love who are more wife than mother. Besides, Horace lived, and Camille was dead. It was of the absent only that she thought. As for the child, would not Madame Duplessis act a mother's part to him? The grandmother would watch over the orphan. If Lucile had lived, she could have done nothing but weep over the cradle, thinking of Camille. Camille Desmoulins and his wife; passages from the history of the Dantonists founded upon new and hitherto unpublished documents (1876) by Jules Claretie.
Having been widowed at the age of 23 [sic] years, Élisabeth Duplay remarried a few years later to the adjutant general Le Bas, brother of her first husband, and kept the name which was her glory. She lived with dignity, and all those who have known her, still beautiful under her crown of white hair, have testified to the greatness of her sentiments and austerity of her character. She died at an old age, always loyal to the memory of the great dead she had loved and whose memory she, all the way to her final day, didn’t cease to honor and cherish. As for the lady of Thermidor, Thérézia Cabarrus, ex-marquise of Fontenay, citoyenne Tallien, then princess of Chimay, one knows the story of her three marriages, without counting the interludes. She had, as one knows, three husbands living at the same time. Now compare these two existances, these two women, and tell me which one merits more the respect and the sympathy of good men. Histoire de Robespierre et du coup d’état du 9 thermidor (1865) by Louis Ernest Hamel, volume 3, page 402.
Fel free to comment which one was your favorite! 😀
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screwpinecaprice · 3 months ago
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Would connverse kid(s) be given any sword training or self-defense (despite era-3 being more peaceful)?
Sorry in advance, I could not English right now. Hope I'm understandable at least. 😅
With my connverse kids, Ebony would be very interested in Gem stuff and going around different places and planets. Apart from hostile environments, there are still rouge and corrupted gems out there though. Best to know combat.
Rohini really likes swordfighting, but she mainly have used it to compete athletically. Sometimes it's useful when she tags along Ebony.
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/Sakura/* saw her older siblings their swords, and she just thinks fencing is fancy. 🤷‍♀️ Whether she'll get over it or not, I don't know yet. Haha
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/Zachary/* would not be interested with swordfighting at all.
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*Sorry, STILL don't know what to officially name the twins. 😅
Also, can I use Steven's healing ability as an excuse for him and Connie still looking younger than their age and hide my inability to depict age? 🥺
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