#to be clear? I DONT LIKE HIM. but i am so glad he is there

[i-cast-zone-of-truth]

i think the widely-hated unavoidable whimsy Cait Sith brings to any given Deathly Serious Scenario is actually very good. he isn't exactly what makes ff7 great but. the fact that ff7 is the kind of Big Story that accommodates him. THAT makes it great

[faaun]

pls i need to provide updates

[idolo-mantis]

you know whats really cool is not sending writers death threats because they killed a character you liked. its not "burying your gays" if everyone is gay and the guy who died was gay but also pretty homophobic for the majority of the time he was on screen. also I've seen people say that he died for no reason and while I do think his arc could have been executed better to make the payoff more impactful, I think his death wraps up his arc really well and is the end that I was foreseeing for him since last season he dies sacrificing himself for the wellbeing of the crew, something he would have NEVER done in s1. in fact he sold out the crew to the english and told ed he was better off dead than expressing vulnerability. do y'all not remember that? like he literally tells ricky that he doesn't understand piracy because ricky would never be willing to die for something bigger- the crew. the wellbeing of the people who you care for. hes not really talking about piracy, hes admitting that he had the same mindset as ricky, too focused on the glory and the bravado. he tells ricky that hes willing to die. he knows that he hurt everyone on that ship and sacrifices himself so that they can have a chance at happiness again- a time where they lived for each other and not just themselves. THIS is his redemption. it was always going to end this way tbh. just because a writing choice makes you upset doesn't mean that it was bad- in fact if you were an izzy liker I dont understand why this wouldn't make you enjoy his character more but one thing I can say is they certainly didn't kill him because he was gay

[tender-rosiey]

hiii this is my first time requesting so i dont know how specific or vague i should get :,) but maybe a scenario between sukuna and reader on how their wedding ceramony(and maybe afterparty) went? i saw an edit of sukuna with lana del rey’s margaret and immediately thought you could write this scenario since all of your husband!sukuna works are chef’s kiss “:D

true oath — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: so glad you like my husband!sukuna works anon and I hope you like this as well 🥹 ALSO special thanks to @lexiene and @camelnose for beta-reading BIG HUGS TO BOTH OF YOU SRSLY MWUAHHH

the servants scurry all around the room, trying to finish as much as possible in the time frame they have been given.

meanwhile, you are sat in front of your vanity with your personal maid who is putting the final touches to your makeup. you let out a soft giggle at the franticness of the others then look at the mirror to examine yourself.

the kimono had been handpicked by sukuna himself, something he believed was only logical—given that, according to him, nobody knows you as well as he does, and of course, that you’re getting married to him.

you thought he was being overconfident in his abilities, but to your surprise, he really did end up choosing something that—both—fit you well and you liked very much.

though, you wouldn’t tell him that. you wonder what his reaction would be to how you actually look in it, especially since you barely made him agree to not seeing you until the ceremony.

“no.”

“sukuna, come on,” you huffed, clinging onto his arms, “it’s a tradition!”

“I don’t care about traditions, you know that,” he replied simply and carried you in his arms.

you pouted and rested your head on his shoulder, looking up at him with your best puppy eyes, “please, honey?”

he looks at you for a few moments before clicking his tongue and looking away, “fine.”

“yay!”

you let out a chuckle at the memory and are interrupted by the door opening. the servant at the door is heavily panting as he speaks, “the l—lord demands to begin the ceremony right now.”

one of the maids looks at him incredulously, “what?! we still have much to prefer like the pathway to his highness and the food!”

the servant nods in understanding, “I know I swear,” he gulps, “but he is getting real impatient and has expressed the need to see her highness more than once.”

you roll your eyes and stand up, “well, tell him that we will be on our way.”

the main maid gasps, “but my lady—”

“don’t fret,” you smile, “if he asks about the unfinished tasks and preparations, I will tell him that you were working on it, but his insistence on speeding things up halted you from your duty, understood?”

they all nod hesitantly. you clap your hand and grin, “well then, lets go! I am excited to see my dear future husband.”

the maids smile nervously, still trying to come to terms with your marriage to sukuna. staying by his side as his lover is one thing, but to officially be declared his wife?

they have come to the conclusion that either you are as crazy as him underneath or you simply managed to tame him—to an extent at least.

you finally exit your room, and as you walk down the hallways, servants clear the way for you, bowing their heads as they offer you their blessings.

you look around the halls, finding them decorated with flowers already, so they are probably talking about the path in the main room.

the flowers are all of your choice, and it fills you with a sense of joy that each one that you pointed out on your outings with sukuna has been placed meticulously in the arrangement that litter the halls.

you slow down your pace, partially to soak in the view a bit more and partially to tease sukuna who is probably waiting with the last smidge of patience he can manage.

sukuna, who is sat on his throne, hand on his knee as he tapped it in waiting. he knows what you’re doing. you have always tried to test just how much you can get away with, which is admittedly a lot at this point.

for example, the first time you did something that he considered audacious is when you were strolling the gardens when you first came to the palace.

you were faced with sukuna who was stood in the place where you usually lounged.

it irked you cause he had the entire garden but chose the most secluded spot—which was usually where you sat so the servants can forget about doing any chores.

you frowned, “that is my spot.”

he quirked an eyebrow but didn’t look back at you. he let out a chuckle, “and this entire palace is mine.”

“nice try,” you quipped, “but I know the palace belongs to sukuna, the king of curses.”

at that, he turned to look at you. he leaned back against the tree, arms crossed and a cold stare on his face, “and who do you think I am, human?”

“oh—shit, okay,” you spluttered, “so you’re sukuna? you look more handsome than I thought.”

a smirked plays at the corner of his lips.

he didn’t reply to you, and you—rightfully—thought that you have dug your own grave. you started to shift your footing from your tip toes to your heel, and you looked away.

he stood up, an amused smile on his face, and he passed you, “I am expecting more from you, so don’t disappoint me.”

you tilted your head, watching his retreating figure. he had left one last comment, “but the next time I see you, I expect you to kneel at my presence.”

that was the moment that sukuna started wanting to see more of you, to see how far you could go. it was a new thing to amuse himself with, so it was more than welcome.

he just doesn’t know when it started being the other way around, because you, in fact, did not kneel.

instead, you started treating him like someone who you genuinely enjoyed their company, and it threw him off slightly; however, that is one of the reasons why he is currently waiting for you, his bride to appear.

the door finally opens, and it reveals you.

sukuna’s heart doesn’t skip a beat at how the kimono fit you exactly how he thought, how your make up was simply perfect, nor how the smile on your lips exuded both happiness and mischief.

what sukuna feels instead is booming pride.

you were always his, since the moment you entered the palace, before he even laid eyes on you. but this silly tradition simply solidifies it even more in the eyes of the others.

he smirks as you finally stand in front of him. you can barely contain your grin, “hello, future husband.”

he didn’t think that a tie to him would ever make somebody so joyed. he smirks at you, patting his lap, “you should know by now that I know you best, you silly woman.”

instantly, your expression falls, and you retort, “way to ruin the mood, king.”

amusement glints in his eyes, and he pulls you close to him, “don’t you ever get tired of giving me attitude? you ought to learn your place.”

“is it not by your side, my lord?” you hum, and he chuckles, content when you finally settle on his lap.

“damn audacious woman,” he looks up at the servants that fill the room.

they are all bowing, some trembling, others alienly still. then there is you who is swinging her feet as she sits on the lap of the king of curses.

he lets out a small breath then speaks loudly, “get the rings.”

in a moment, a servant comes in, carrying a cushion where two golden rings lay. your eyes widen at the sheer amount of patterns of gems on one of the rings.

the servant kneels in front of you two, and sukuna takes the ring decorated with gems in one hand and your hand in another. it slips perfectly onto your finger, and you raise your hand.

you feel your jaw slack a bit at how intricately made it is. and upon closer inspection, you see that one of the patterns is actually sukuna’s name.

you look up at him, and he is already looking at you with a small smirk and a confident look, “you should see the look on your face,” he muses.

he takes your hand into his and raises it slightly.

he examines it quietly before letting go. you blink confused but shrug the thought of your mind. you hold his hand in yours gently, and you put the ring on him.

his ring, contrary to yours, is a lot minimal. it’s a simple golden band, but what surprises you is that your name is etched on the surface.

“sukuna, my name…?”

he looks at the ring on his finger and flexes his hand. he looks at you simply says, “figured you would like something like this.”

you smile widely and giggle, “you know, people usually carve the name of the inside.”

“and I am not usual, am I?”

you nod gently and lean against his chest, “no, you’re not.”

you honestly didn’t know what to expect from a wedding ceremony in the ryomen sukuna “style”. however, sukuna was set on…standing out and making it a memorable event.

the room was flooded with servants carrying trays upon trays of food—all which you have noticed were your favorite—and dancers that put one of the most fascinating shows you’ve seen.

you gape at how they make their moves so effortless, which you can see through just how much practice was put into it.

you look at sukuna, and you seem him smirking down at you, clearly proud of the reaction the show has gotten out of you.

“how—how long have you been preparing for this?” you ask the man.

he glances at the dancers then replies, “6 months; I needed it to be perfect, and these humans take so long to learn things.”

“also, I know that the show I organized is great—“ he says before holding your chin and making you face him, “but that enamoured face should be directed at none other than me, got it?”

you nod frantically, not out of fear, but he is staring directly into your eyes in a way that simply is far too intense. he releases your chin, humming in satisfaction.

the dance finally comes to a close, and everybody in the room bows down to the both of you.

uraume speaks up from beside you—when did they get there—head held down humbly, “it is time for you to exchange vows, my lord and m’lady.”

vows? sukuna prepared vows?

tilting your head in confusion, you look at sukuna, and he is already looking at you. he rolls his eyes, “I didn’t prepare anything, brat; don’t get ahead of yourself.”

okay, that tracks. you give him a thumbs up.

but he is quiet for a moment before speaking up, “I have no need for that; all that you need to is that,” he leans closer to you, "you are mine, entirely and without exception, in every breath you take,” he spoke lowly against your lips, “I won’t let you forget that.”

he lets out a breath of amusement at the way your eyes widen and the glimmer behind them. he wastes no time in locking his lips with you, sealing your contract for life.

—

“wooo! I am married!” you say drunkenly, giggling and swaying slightly beside your now husband.

you whip your head back at him, almost falling in the process but his hand easily steadies you, “sukuna, I am married!”

“I know,” he replies, eyeing the empty cup that was full of sake. he hums, “uraume, what was the intensity in the sake?”

they both glance at you, standing on top of a table, babbling a kind of song about your marriage and being a queen now.

you nearly trip on the covers, but sukuna nods for uraume to stop your fall. they hold you up with one hand, maintaining a safe distance, so sukuna doesn’t get protective.

“high, my lord.”

you keep giggling and squealing, and he sighs, “certainly looks like it.”

he rests his chin on his palm, watching your figure run around and keeping an eye for you. however, in the corner of his eyes, he spots a couple of men staring at you, eyes full-blown and open.

it irks him that even after that display, they still dare to look at what belongs to him.

with minimal effort, he flicks his finger, and their heads go flying to the corner of the room. some of the blood splatters onto the floor, but he pays it no mind.

“ooo, red wine!”

“don’t you dare drink that, you stupid woman!”

after a while you find yourself laid down on the bed, head dazed as you try to make sense of your surroundings. you can hear a door closing, and some heavy footsteps getting closer and closer.

finally, your husband comes into view with his arms crossed. you pull on his sleeve gently, “what about the after-party?”

he sits down beside you, and you take the chance to lay your head on his lap. he allows it but grunts in response, “after-party with you all delirious like this?”

“I am fine!” you protest, huffing and giving him the most intimidating glare you can muster.

he simply flicks your forehead, and you yelp, shielding your face away from him, “you’re so rude!”

“pretty sure, you aren’t supposed to reply your king and husband like that,” he states. he squishes your face with one hand and quirks an eyebrow, “you’re testing your limits.”

“I don’t care!”

“oh?”

you note the change of tone almost instantly, and it is enough to sober you up.

you look up, wide-eyed at him, and on his face is a devious smirk, and behind his eyes are thoughts that are probably going to be the end of you tonight.

he leans down slightly, “I have a different kind of after-party in mind,” one of his hands trails to hold your wrist, “which I think you will quite like,” you try resisting for even a second, but you’re no match for him, “starting now.”

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do not copy or plagiarize or I will put you on gege's list

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[sukifoof-art]

heres a silly little post pacifist au i've had for a Good While now which is why i tend to draw hyperdeath asriel and frisk being siblings a lot theres some Info under the cut if ur curious

OKAY SO BASICALLY i like to imagine that after leaving the underground flowey is able to come to terms with. Being Flowey and through therapy learns how to be more open and frisk and papyrus help him a lot through this. i think toriel already Knows hes flowey just cuz of the way he acts shes like "i dont know how. but that is my son boy." and one day he comes home from therapy and goes I Need To Tell You Something. I Am Asriel. and he braces for the way she reacted in the underground but this time around she just goes "im so glad you finally feel comfortable telling me" and they both cry it out

as flowey becomes more comfortable with being himself he starts to mess around with his face to prank frisk cuz he just NEEDS to be an annoying older brother and after he works out his various issues and can see himself more as he is an not there being a clear distinction between asriel and flowey in his brain (ive talked about this a lot i think he sees asriel as different from him cuz of trauma and therapy will help him kind of calm down and go "im still me im just different and older now and also traumatized but despite everything its still me") i think he would be able to make himself look like hyperdeath asriel as its what he feels most comfortable looking like

he still goes by flowey and he moves around like flowey but when hes just standing there he needs a cane both cuz i imagine it kinda hurts and he doesnt have good balance. i like to think that despite being a weird grumpy guy who sits at home all day cuz hes not ready to interact with lots of people yet hes actually a very good brother who cares a lot about frisk and the people around him <3 big brother flowey SO real btw ask to tag if needed

[just-some-random-blogger]

Seeing Green

Gwayne had enough of you and declared he would not be accompanying you on your travels to the town ever again. How glad you were to know Harwin would in his stead.

bodyguard!Gwayne Hightower x Lannister!Reader x Harwin Strong | 2k+ | cw: fem!reader, enemies to lovers, forced proximity ig, im just a girl!reader, angst?, jealousy, typos, etc.

A/N: this is a p2 to seeing red but you dont have to read it to understand whats happening. I have made a next part!

Tagging: @lancedoncrimsonwings @targs-on-zorses @barbieaemond @arabellasleopardcoat

"GWAYNE!" I stick my head out of the carriage window. I scoff as I watch the armored man walk off, "you can not be serious!"

"Serious?!" he snaps, turning back to me with a raised brow and a tense jaw. He rubs his lips as he storms back towards me. His glare is so grave that I actually lean back into my seat and clench my skirt.

Gwayne stomps his foot on one of the steps up the carriage. A line forms between his brows, "you have WORN me!"

I grow tense as flails his hand around.

"I have done nothing but exact your cumbersome and frivolous commands with patience!" He snaps, "and now that I've met my limit yet you have the gall to ask me if I am being serious!?!"

Gwayne's eyes are wide and clearer than the skies. His pointed stare is piercing and I cannot deflect it as he speaks to me of my unreasonableness. Admittedly, my requests were some meant to annoy him, but I did not expect him to act so acridly. I mean, surely he was accustomed to it by now. Was I truly becoming too much to bear for him?

His face is flushed with rage. I stare at him, unable to speak, for in truth I did not know how to meet his apparently genuine frustration.

"Oh," he scoffs, chuckles bubbling out his throat, "she does not speak, for there is nothing else true to say." He grips the carriage door, "what? Have you realized you do work me worse than your own employed servants? That you ask of me more than what I am required of?"

"But it is my right!" I pipe up, though my voice is still small, "you must accompany me wherever I so wander."

Gwayne's jaw feathers, "I am tasked to protect you from peril and to prevent you from doing the unwise," he steps back, "not to carry your clothes and hang them in your wardrobes!"

I stare at him, dread building in my stomach.

"What?!" he quips, "do you truly not see the brunt of my frustrations?"

"... I do not think it unreasonable to-" I gaps when he closes the door with unnecessary force before storming away.

In truth, the gesture was harsher than it needed to be and bothers me more than it should. There is a tightness to my chest as I slowly open the door and watch the man so readily forsake me. Against myself, my eyes begin to prick with tears.

"Gw-" I shut my mouth at the sound of my voice breaking. I chew my lower lip and take deep breaths to calm myself.

I did not mean to make him cross— not like that. I feel my throat tighten as I replay what just happened. Guilt eats at me more each second and soon salt cascades down my cheeks. I sit there until the coachman knocks and asks if we should away. I dismiss him and tell him I will stay here for a little while.

I don't. It feels like an hour passed of me trying not to cry, crying, and calming myself. I start when someone knocks on my carriage door.

"My Lady Lannister?" a deep voice speaks, making me wipe my face in a panic.

I try to stifle my sniffle and use my skirt to dry my tears.

"Tis Ser Harwin Strong. You cannot leave your carriage here."

I clear my throat, but my voice still betrays me with a crack, "ap-ologies. I will have it m-" but my coachman is not here. I sigh and stare at my lap. My lips wobble as helplessness creeps up on me.

A prolonged moment of silence ensues before the man outside speaks again, "my lady... are you well?"

I huff and concede to simply opening the door.

I wipe my philtrum on my sleeve and feel twice as dreadful as I see the dark haired and bearded man outside my carriage. He is a beauty. His blue eyes narrow in concern, "my lady."

I shake my head and gather my skirts.

He instinctively reaches out a hand to me and assists me as I exit my ride. Once I am stood before him, I realize just how tall and broad he is. His brows tighten as he releases my hand. I offer him a smile, "I beg your pardon for the inconvenience. I do not have anyone to move the carriage."

Ser Harwin shakes his head, "one of the stable boys can move it." He turns over his shoulder and hollers for someone to do just that. A boy approaches us, nodding politely before climbing up the driver's seat to do what was instructed of him.

My stomach rolls when the towering man looks back at me. His demeanor is starkly juxtaposed to his stature. He ghosts a hand on my shoulder and raises an arm. He leads me off to the side and speaks softly, "is there anything I can assist you with, my lady?"

I shake my head, "I am well."

He nods and clutches his hands once we find ourselves standing just by the entrance of the Keep, "forgive me, but as a guard of the City Watch, it is my duty to uphold justice. I cannot stand idle in the face of trickery."

My brows quirk at his words. I tilt my head, "do you call me a liar, ser?"

"Yes," he answers simply.

My lips part as his brazen admission.

"True, it is not uncommon for one to weep with joy, but I recognize the distress laid upon your brow," he shakes his head, "would it not be simpler for you to say you require nothing of me than to pretend you are well?"

His words make me choke. I feel my eyes begin to fog with tears.

Ser Harwin's face falls. He raises his hands, "forgive me. I only meant-"

"No," I mumble, "you are right. I injure myself! I speak before I think and create inconveniences for entertainment." I scratch my tears away before they can fall. I look up to the man, feeling dread bite at me. I resist my instinct to slip further into my emotions and try to speak as evenly as possible, "the truth is... I had a... disagreement with my ward... we always get into disagreements, but... this time it was visceral."

The man shifts on his leg, "might I ask what the disagreement was over?"

"He says I work him like a dog, that I ask much more than what he ought to do," I sniffle, "and... perhaps it is true," I evade his gaze by turning to the sky. My lips quiver, "but I did not realize my presence was so heavily insufferable." I look back at him, "I am easy on the eyes, am I not?"

The man chuckles softly, "your features are quite comely indeed, Lady Lannister."

I nod once, "that is the only correct response, ser."

A rich chuckle fills the space between us. He hums and raises a hand, "have you expressed your orders were mere reasons to keep his company?"

My expression drops at his words. I laugh but it goes dry when I realize he spoke no jest. "Ser, my ward is Gwayne Hightower. He loathes me just as I loathe him."

"And do you normally weep for your enemies?" he tilts his head.

"I weep because he regards me so cruelly!" I snap in defense, "it is most twisted for one as he to raise his voice and show aggression to one such as I!"

Ser Harwin sighs.

I wipe my philtrum, feeling my body tremble with a mix of emotions.

"What was this errand you needed to be chaperoned to?"

I gulp as I bring my hands to my hips. I debate the sincerity of his words and decide he does not have the face of a man who would use my words against me. I huff, "the tailor's. I was to have a new dress made for me for-"

His brows quirk at my abrupt halt.

I feel blood rush up my neck, but I decide to ignore it and speak with as much scorn as I could muster, "Gwayne's nameday celebration."

I observe him carefully, ready to pounce and pound him if he so wishes to berate me for the honest admission. In truth, I am taken aback by the curtness of his reply. He nods and offers me an arm, "if it pleases you, I can accompany you to the tailor myself. I have finished my patrol and have nothing better to do."

My eyes dart from the curls framing his face to his meaty arm. My lips part as I find the words to say, "would you... rather not rest for the day?"

"My honor would not allow me after beholding a lady in her distress."

I stare at his arm for a few seconds and cautiously take it.

A good while passed until Gwayne returned to the stables to find his irritating lady. When he sees the Lannister carriage parked, he sighs and marches over, preparing himself to meet the rage of the woman that was still sitting inside in protest.

"Will you sleep-" he starts but stops when he opens the door to nothing. He raises a brow and closes the door. His attention falls on the passing servant, "you. Where is the lady of this carriage?"

The man looks at him then the carriage.

"Lady Lannister," Gwayne clarrifies.

He perks in recognition, "the lady Lannister and ser Strong headed to the tailor on horseback."

"On horseback," the knight scoffs in disbelief, "Lady Lannister?" his voice fades into a laugh. And he so enjoys himself laughing for a moment before sighing, "why, I applaud the good ser for his powers of persuasion."

Upon realizing that he no longer needed to be here, Gwayne grins and nods at him, "thank you my good man. Your news has made my day."

With that he walks off and heads to his quarters.

The next day, Gwayne has a spring to his step as he heads down the hall.

I am in the middle of having my hair fixed when I hear a knock on my door. I look at the reflection from the mirror before me, "come in."

I behold Gwayne and his grin as he struts towards my bed. He leaps into it, landing on his chest. He instructs one of my servants to get him a cup of wine. Each of these things would normally be cause to chew him up; all of these combined would make me unleash upon him the wrath due to his impertinence, and yet, I find myself uncaring of his blatant misbehavior. I merely instruct my servant to fetch the sapphire necklace that match my velvet dress and sit tight by my vanity.

Gwayne takes the wine that is served to him and sips before speaking out, "I hear Lord Harwin Strong was he who accompanied you to town yesterday."

I ignore him in lieu of twirling the baby hairs by my ears.

"And on horseback, no less," he takes another sip, "how ever did he get you to ride a horse by yourself?"

"I didn't," I turn to my servant who returns with my jewels, "we rode on the same horse."

Gwayne stills. He scrunches his face at the cup in his hand then looks at me, "what?"

I smile at myself on the mirror as the necklaces is clasped around my neck. I adjust the blue stone that sparkled between my collarbones and admire the look of it.

He sits up from the bed, careful not to spill his drink, "you rode the same horse?"

"Of course we rode the same horse," I roll my eyes, "he is not a fool who expects me to enjoy such sport."

The red haired man raises his brows. He waits for me to expound further, but finds I am distracted by my reflection. He scoffs, sipping again more before saying, "I pity the steed."

I grin at myself, pleased with my image.

"I pity the steed," he repeats, "that had to carry a knight, a brat, and her hundred dresses."

My eyes dart to him. He is already looking at me from the mirror. "He did not ride with me on the way back. He is not cruel like you."

"So he walked?" his forehead curls, "and on the way back, no less." He scoffs once more before drinking again, "well, the tailor is not that far."

I inspect my attire one last time before standing and heading to the bed. Gwayne lifts his eyes; the corner of his lips soon follow. He shifts on his spot and drinks deeply.

"You are dismissed, Hightower."

He licks his lips as his brows furrow, "what?"

I tilt my head and clasp my hands together, "you do so love making sport of me repeating myself."

Gwayne pulls his head back before standing. He lifts his nearly empty cup, "are you saying you— you have no plans for the day?" He purses his lips, "no errands you wish to force upon my being."

I clench my teeth but manage to pull a smile. Gwayne finds such endearment in the forced grins, not that he would ever admit so. I nod in agreement.

"So," he holds his cup with both hands, "I am free to do what I will for the day."

"Even more so to do it as far away from me as possible," I raise my hands before walking towards him to push him out of my room.

The man chuckles as he finishes what is left of his wine. He manages to hand the empty cup to one of the servants just before we both step out of the room. He licks his lips and tilts his head at me.

The smile that spreads on his face makes my stomach roll and I combat it with a glare, "do not wait on me. I will be promenading with a friend."

"Promenade?" he chuckles. The lines on his cheek remain as he raises his brow. He looks me once over, eyes lingering on the sapphire on my décolletage, "and pray tell, who in the Keep has merited the friendship of someone so high-nosed as you?"

"Ser Harwin Strong."

His grin falters.

I do not care to wonder why as I walk off and meet the man I named in the gardens as we had arranged.

Gwayne watches. He is left alone in the corridor. He chuckles to himself and heads off to the library to unwind. The closer he inched to his destination however, the more sour the taste in his mouth became. Before he even comes near the library, he finds himself marching off to look for gods knows what he'll find.

And it seems the gods do want him to find the source of his sourness. As he marched down one stairwell, he heard an unmistakable sound of laughter that made his ears perk. He heads to the hall and looks out the window.

There, he sees a man stood in front of a woman sat upon a bench, both of them giggling and both of them in blue. His eye twitches as the dark haired fool carelessly picks a flower from a bush and offers it to her.

Gwayne finds no relief when she does not take it, for instead it seems she instructed him to place the flower on the side of her hair.

"Ha," he scoffs, pulling away from the window, "promenade, says she? Ha!" Gwayne shakes his head as his feet take him back towards the library, "neither of them are walking. HA!"

Gwayne cannot help the way his hands clench and unclench as he storms off. He scoffs once again, "fucking Strong," the ire in his chest is molten, prickly, and painful as he adds, "fucking Lannister."

[show-us-kaidenshenandoah]

i'm hard of hearing and i have an auditory processing disorder, but i don't know sign. so my opinion is definitely of lesser importance than those who are deaf

please pardon any mispellings as i am dyslexic, am writing this on my phone, and am not editing it too seriously

i think it's overall fine to use ASL or SSL in the same way it is fine for one's fantasy world to use English; however, ive learned that's really only the case if a person is fluent in it. you're fluent in English, so it makes sense for you to use English throughout this story; if you are not also fluent in ASL and/or SSL, it is less recommended for you to, utilizing the same aforementioned logic as using English language, use either of these two languages throughout your story from what i have seen from the deaf community. (it might be easier to understand through a hypothetical. it isn't an exact equivalent, of course, but it will help illustrate the point; just indulge me in a suspension of disbelief and "be silly". let's pretend i am writing a story where, for whatever reason, i am using a singular Swedish-only speaking character while everyone else is English-speaking. i know that'd be silly to do pragmatically, but again: "be silly" with me for a second. i have one Swedish-speaking character, everyone else is English-speaking. this would be fine for me to do if i was fluent in both languages, as you are fluent in Swedish and English. however, i am not fluent in Swedish. as a result of this lack of fluency, unless i am actively practicing to learn Swedish, there is going to be a LOT of mistakes in me saying "this is the Swedish equivalent of xyz in English", i am going to get grammar wrong, i am going to miss nuance, and i am going to assume there are Swedish words that might not exist because they exist in English. i may be using an official "Swedish to English" website as reference, but i am going to fuck up so much in my lack of Swedish fluency that for any Swedish-speaker like yourself: you are going to cringe and wish i had became fluent in Swedish before writing this or that i gotten in contact with someone who is fluent in Swedish to correct my mistakes in linguistics, nuances, culture, and whatnot. that's what i mean by "it's fine for you to use English, ASL, or SSL in fantasy if you're fluent!" and why im suggesting thoughtfulness in proceeding if you are NOT fluent. i hope this makes sense lol but yeah! sign language of any kind is, ultimately, a language. so the same respects applies to sign language as to Swedish in this sense when it comes to application of dialogue and the nuances inherent within that language's culture. this is by no means saying "no deaf characters or sign language allowed unless you are in the community!",of course, that'd be as ridiculous as "no Swedish characters allowed unless you are Swedish/have lived in Sweden for x amount of years!". no, of course, do it! inclusivity: yay!! we just have to be proceed thoughtfully when we create a character that represents a specific identity lmao but yeah, to summarize this hypothetical: if you has wanted to do a Swedish-only-speaking character amongst your English speaking cast, you are fluent in both, of course you can do that! but i would need to proceed with caution as a monolingual English-speaker and rely on someone Swedish-speaking checking my work)

and, of course, there are cases of a person not fluent writing a really good story staring a deaf person, like the manga "A Sign Of Affection" by Suu Morishita (which is a duo going under one pseudonym if my memory recollects right); however, they have a consultant named Yuki (who is a deaf person who uses sign in Japan. they also named their female lead after her in thanks lol but for clarity, ill be using "Yuki" to refer to the consultant, not the character) who they interview before every chapter to ensure they are portraying their deaf character realistically, to help them brainstorm future chapter and scenarios, for final approval of past chapters before they finish it up, and will also ask her to translate the dialogue for the deaf characters to say through sign (they film her signing her translation to use as an art reference, and also use her to find out what exactly the characters can say since very few sign-languages have one-to-one translations of a hearing-language. the sentences grammar and the available vocabulary for one's diction are different). you can read more about their process with Yuki within the manga, they explain it as a bonus feature between chapters and have also done interviews for magazines and whatnot. so there is fluency in that example, it just doesn't come from the mangaka duo. if you have a resource to apply that to with ASL or SSL, i think that makes perfect sense to do so! have that person help you out! it is overall preferable to have someone who doesn't know sign try to depict fluency in THAT way, from what i understand after looking into deaf people discuss preferred characterization anyway

if you want to do a conlang for a fictive sign language (especially if you do not have an ASL or SSL fluent deaf person to use as a resource of if you yourself are not fluent in either or), i think that also makes sense. i started learning about how deaf people prefer to be depicted in fantasy works starting at this reddit thread (there's links to further discussion within it, and invitation of where to ask questions). i also like this tiktok user named @/bow_asintakea_rawn who has a lot of deaf content relating to fiction/fantasy that could potentially be a resource (you could even try talking to him if you feel so comfortable). and lastly, i like the youtuber @/oakwyrm, who is a disabled person who does a lot of disabled media analysis (especially fantasy) and whose essays can service as a resource in that way (i forget if oakwyrm is deaf or not though, but he does discuss deafness in some videos despite many deaf people not considering their deafness as a disability, which is fair, and others do, which is also fair). i have other deaf youtubers i could recommend, but none of them interact with fantasy much so i dont know how useful they would be; if you want more deaf resources, i would suggest just googling "deaf youtubers" since i know deafness in respect to "how to portray this community and sign-language in fantasy" is more important to this discussion so i won't detract by offering resources that digress from this topic

i dont know many fantasy pieces that include how to depict deaf people, but i know the overall sentiment about sign language in fiction/fantasy is "Depict signing as functionally the same as speaking" since it is just another language. this sounds counter-productive initially if the idea is new to you, but the idea of novels needing the following reminder makes sense: "There's no need to replace '[deaf character] said' with '[deaf character] signed'. Introduce the deaf character using sign, introduce who knows sign and who needs a translator (if anyone), and from then on carry on using '[deaf character] said' whenever they have something to say. We have grasped from then on that they are using sign. You don't need to make them the odd one out of the group from then on by using a differnt tag just for them. It's alienating. Only use 'signed' as a tag when it's an example where the signing distinction is necessary, like '[hearing character] signed to me not to whisper, his eyes trained on the guard searching for us' or a similar situation" (this is not a quote, otherwise i would cite it. i cant find where i learned this idea from, but i did want to ensure there was a distinction that this was not my idea, but me parroting an idea i have heard and learned from, if nothing else). i mention this to you and your comic because the same logic applies to visual distinctions of signing. from what i have seen: the preferred depiction of sign in graphic novels specifically includes a similar line of logic: "Use the same speech-bubbles as you would use for hearing characters that are not signing", and the idea of "translation boxes" is less preferred unless there is a specific reason why (like maybe a deaf character knows two sign-languages and is switching to one most of the cast doesn't know). though "A Sign Of Affection"'s manga is a great example of deaf characters in manga overall, they unfortunately don't do this (meaning their deaf characters don't use the same speech-bubbles when they sign as when hearing characters are speaking and not using sign), which i personally don't recommend copying unless a deaf person/people who sign DO advise to mimic it. i personally recommend to use the same speech bubbles as hearing characters have when they do not sign, as aforementioned; that's the impression i have been given by those ive listened to in the deaf community. which to do the same speech-bubbles regardless of sign or no sign makes sense, to me, as it better treats sign-language visually as of similar respects as any other language. (but, again: deaf people's opinion over mine. especially if they disagree. i am parroting, what i parrot is biased to what i have seen within my sphere of the internet; i am of far less importance) HOWEVER, something really cool about "A Sign of Affection"'s speech bubbles that the deaf community and hearing community both really like is how "A Sign of Affection" will use speech-bubbles to show what Yuki can/can't hear. they have different text colors to show when their deaf main character hears something being said and when that deaf character does not hear the person (because the hearing character has their lips covered, because the deaf character wasn't looking directly at the hearing person's lips and was not aware they were speaking, because the hearing character spoke literally behind the hearing person's back, and so on). if you want to mimic that aspect, that's totally okay to do so lol and i'm sure there are other graphic novel resources of deaf people to look into, but i haven't encountered many (eg. i know "A Silent Voice" exists but i stay away from stories with suicidal characters due to triggers, so i have no idea if it is reverred as fondly by the deaf community as i know "A Sign Of Affection" is due to my lack of interaction with the content/its fandom)

but i hope this small handful of leads helps you out! if my assumption that you are not CODA or a hearing person fluent in sign is correct (im a newer follower, sorry lol but i do really like your stuff so far and think your "Felt World" comic is fantastic! i just also know very little about you lmao rip), and if you do not have a fluent person in sign to use as a sinilar resource as Yuki is stellarly used in "A Sign Of Affection", i think a conlang is probably the best option for you? i definitely think it might of help to go to some reddit threads with prominent deaf people who use sign to recruit one or a few beta-reader/sensitivity-reader as a resource. bonus if they like conlangs and are willing to help you develop one. or are willing to translate their fluency for you so you know what diction translation is available for your character's dialogue + to film their signs for you to use as a reference. i originally found you through your tiktok, so it might be helpful to formally recruit there through a short video and tag it appropriately to reach out to the deaf and signing community for that type of beta-reader/sensitivity-reader/possible-translator/possible-conlang-help-resource person

my last piece of advice towards finding resources is you might find more information here on tumblr under the tag "writing deaf characters". i think(?) that's the tag people use to discuss how to depict deaf characters, though that is not sign-language specific in the sense of how to depict sign-language in fantasy. you'd probably have to scroll to find posts on that. but it should give you resources of people saying "this is my advice for writing a deaf character as someone who is deaf" who you could then reach out to for more specific questions, resource-help, and whatnot

finally, i know you said "there is *A* deaf character" in your post, but i do want to hesitantly implore you to include that said character as being a part of a deaf community. so having other characters around them also be deaf. it is very unusual, from what i understand, for a deaf character to be the ONLY deaf person they know or that they willingly surround themselves with. the deaf community is very close-knit to the point of people actually all having two names: they have a sign-name as well as their name used in conversation with hearing people. community and solidarity is extremely common with deafness. community is huge part of the deaf culture. being the only deaf character would only make some sense if that character is purposefully alienated from others (think Toph from "Avatar: The Last Airbender"'s family situation, tho she is blind, not deaf) but even then: they had to learn their fluency with sign language from SOMEWHERE and used it often with those people (and this sign language had to get popularized into having a standardization by... like... having a lot of people use it, which would only happen if a lot of people NEEDED it, which means there has to be a significant deaf community lmao). this is especially true if the equivalent-of-face-timing isn't possible in "Felt World" (as video-calls are the predominant form of long-distance communication that accomadates sign); if long-distance communication isn't possible between people who use sign language, they go for proximity (hence there being schools to facilitate deaf community and communication). this can then cause "accents" so to speak (there's even records of families of deaf people having their own family-signs and "accents" in addition to region-based). this is best noticed in how, in the USA, there actually isn't just one form of sign-language originated from here. which, yes, there are multiple "English-associated" sign-languages (i think the most famous trio are ASL, BSL, and SSE to non-Americans?? but there are even more "English-associated" sign languages than that and i'm not talking about any of those rn, but rather the fact that ASL is not the only sign language to originate from the United States of America). i'm talking about how, due to the segregation of Black people in schools, there is BASL (Black American Sign Language). community matters so much to deaf people that something as dividing as segregation resulted in two totally different forms of sign. and even though schools are no longer segregated, that history has lead to two different origins of language that the descendents of which have little to very little overlap now as distinct "accents" from what i understand as someone who uses neither forms of sign (and it should go with saying that many Black deaf people in America have to be fluent in not only English and also ASL, in addition to BASL, in order to gain accommodations in classrooms that are not at a BASL School. it is unfortunate that such a hurdle exists and i greatly admire Black deaf people and their preservation of BASL, as well as anyone hearing who signs BASL to help translate for Black deaf people in their first language so there are less hoops for Black deaf people to jump through. but i digress). so, again, deaf people being surrounded by other deaf people either through technology-that-accomadates-sign or proximity is HUGE. so i would say at MINIMUM introduce this one character as having access to a community of background characters who are also deaf and sign, in addition to hearing people who sign. that insistence you ensure there is a community of deaf characters in this world (if not having multiple deaf recurring characters or main characters) probably goes without saying? i probably didnt need to say all this. but im erring on the side of caution since i feel a bit on thin-ice as a non-sign-language-user speaking here to begin with lol

but yeah! again, i dont know sign so this is me parroting things i have learned from the deaf community about how they prefer sign be utilized (this isn't even approaching the topic of cochlear implants, as that can be seen as controversal to some deaf circles and fine to other deaf circles within the overall community) and giving you the leads i can currently recall having been useful to me when i realized i had a curiosity about how to best utalize sign in fantasy settings (im sure i once used more but i have alas forgotten them, as this post even shows in how i dont remember where to cite certain ideas to). definitely defer to people who know sign, especially those who are deaf, over me as i am not within that portion of the hoh/deaf community as a whole. but i digress. i hope this is helpful, and i wish you and your comic the best of luck! much love ♡

Ah fuck it this is gonna be a spoiler but I genuinely can't figure out what the right course of action is so here goes...

SO THERE'S A DEAF CHARACTER IN FELT WORLD who uses sign to communicate. (Don't speculate, it'll be revealed, but don't make assumptions just in case it isn't who you thought it was and you end up disappointed)

My question is; do I pick American Sign Language, Swedish Sign Language, or do I make up a fictive Sign Language?

My arguments for all:

ASL: the comic is written in American English

SSL: I'm from Sweden, and there are tons of Swedish references in felt world

Fictive SL: would be much easier from a production stand point

What are y'all's input? I'd love to hear especially if you're deaf/heard of hearing and using sign yourself. Thanks in advance!!

[shouts-into-the-void]

Just read screenshots of the Aaron extra chapter and I have so many thoughts, so here they are:

It's always so funny to me to be reminded of the fact that the animosity between Aaron and Neil is mostly one-sided. Like, Neil finds Aaron frustrating, but all the antagonistic stuff he does to him is ultimately in service of helping him in some way and while he's angry when Aaron provokes him, he otherwise regards him with disinterest and even expresses the desire to see what he's like when he's relaxed and enjoying himself during the party with the Vixens. Meanwhile Aaron just really hates that man.

I really appreciated Nora using this chapter to clear up some of the gripes a lot of the fandom has had with Aaron's character in the past and confirm that Aaron's comments to Nicky have to do with his cousin making graphic and unwanted sexual advances on their teammates, and his accusations towards Neil were from a place of concern for his brother. I also liked that it was pointed out that of course he would have at least some internalized homophobia due to being raised by religious zealots in a conservative area, but is unlearning it due to Nicky.

On a similar note, I'm glad that we were provided the context that Nicky's inappropriate behavior is a defense mechanism to weed out people who might hurt him rather than legitimate advances, because I think the fandom tends to forget that he is also a character with extreme trauma written outside of the "perfect victim" stereotype. His actions aren't okay, but the entire point is that they are the result of what he's had to endure just like every other member of the team

The implication that Andrew specifically signed with the Foxes so Aaron could go to college

Aaron and Andrew have the same nervous habit of picking at loose thread

It causes me physical pain to see Andrew clearly trying to open up to Aaron about his self-harm, but because his way of communicating is less straightforward (he doesn't lie, but he because he stuggles to confront and be open with his emotions, he presents the truth in flowery, vague language) and because the two dont really know or understand each other, Aaron can't fully grasp the implications of what he's saying

On the subject of things that cause me physical pain: baby Aaron telling his mom that he wanted to be a neurosurgeon like the people on TV and her laughing and saying he'd never make anything of himself. Fuck Tilda Minyard, all my homies hate Tilda.

Andrew is so uncomfortable, someone Get Him Out of There.

Going off that and his nervous habits (that Aaron mentions he did often enough to be noticable as a habit premedication), I am highkey wondering if the reason Sober Andrew doesn't talk to anyone outside Neil is because he's just. Socially Awkward.

We get a little bit of insight into Andrew's "misogyny" (I personally think distrusting certain people as a result of extreme personal trauma is a little bit different than just being sexist, in the same way women distrusting men because they're used to being harassed and belittled isn't misandry, but that's up to your personal opinion) and that his distain for Katelyn comes from the fact that he thinks she's stringing Aaron along and will turn out to be awful like his previous girlfriends (there's also a notable implication that Aaron has the same self-destructive tendencies as Andrew, and may be why he went out of his way to get him into college and on the straight-and-narrow) also see that this extends to Bee as well despite their close relationship, with him being so afraid that she'd reject him for being gay that he can't even look at her while talking about Neil, probably made worse by the fact that she's a maternal figure for him, which is where this trauma response originates.

Aaron is the only person on the team who's aware that Andrew hasn't slept with Neil, and the only one to grasp the significance of the fact that they've gotten close to that point already despite Andrew's trauma, outside of Renee

It was overall really interesting to see inside Aaron's head (I actually wouldn't mind a book from his perspective, he has a similar way of thinking to Neil but much more grounded) and to see Andrew through the lense of someone who just views him as Just A Guy

[marvelstan0905]

"Trust me, you're not heavy"

Boyfriend!Kenji Sato X FEM!Chubby/Plus Size! Reader

TW : insecurities regarding weight/fluff/wholesome/stammering/picking up/angst/slightly new relationship/comparison/lewd joke at the end/not proofread yet/ mixed POV

-Hi. This is for comfort. Mostly for me,because I am on the thicker side and these are thoughts that have coursed through my mind. If you will be triggered please don't go beyond the line. I am a Female/AFAB so it will be with she/her pronouns! I'm still gonna write other scenarios with GN readers in mind! Thank you for the love and support😘

©all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

Today was a relaxing day. A chill day from all the chaos that both me and Kenji had been going through. We were relaxing together at Kenji's house. My legs laid on his lap as I sat across from him on the couch. We were watching a movie occasionally being on our phones. Kenji put down his phone and looked at me thoughtfully.

"Hey baby?" Kenji started hesitantly as he took my hand and gently put my phone down. I hummed and smiled giving him my attention. "Can I ask why you don't let me pick you up or sit in my lap?"

I froze. I expected the question but I didn't really expect the question so soon ant so abruptly. I looked away from Kenji, clearing my throat.

"W-What do you mean, baby?" I cleared my throat and withdraw my legs from his lap hugging my knees. Kenji's eyes softened in concern as he observed your tense and almost, hiding body language.

"Well..baby we've been dating for quite a while yet you've never sat in my lap or let me pick you up. If I try to pick you up, you squirm away and stiffen up...did I do something to make you uncomfortable?" Kenji spoke sincerely as he gently took ahold of my hand, his thumb brushing against my knuckles. His beautiful mauve turquoise eyes held concern and guilt. I felt bad.

"N-No. Of course its not you, baby. It's me, really. I..I dont even know where to start really" I breathed with a nervous laughter. I played with his soft but calloused hands. Kenji felt relieved but it still didn't exactly explain why. He wouldn't pressure his girl to talk about it but they had great communication.

"Well you know,you can tell me anything. I'd never judge you. You're the perfect specimen to me" Kenji added with conviction and genuineness. I blushed and shook my head.

"I know that, my love. You'd never judge me. It's just..I'm not exactly small, you know? I don't weigh like 40kgs and stuff like that. Plus I've never really been lifted up or put my whole weight on someone, if that makes sense? Like for trustfall exercises at school, I never got a turn or piggy back rides. Stuff like that..I know it's stupid" I rambled whiles touching my head. I tugged on my sweater sleeves. Kenji's eyes softened and hardened at the same time, he was was quite upset people treated you that way. "Even if someone did volunteer they'd be huffing and puffing or straning. So I'd prefer if you didn't get a hernia or something like that picking me up"

"Welk to start baby, fuxk those people who treated you like that. I'd like their names and Instagram handles..Number 2. It doesn't matter that you don't weigh 40kgs or whatever. That's actually unhealthy but anyways. I don't care if you're not small. Just means there's more to touch and feel on" Kenji smirked whiles groping my pudgy love handles. I giggled and pushed his hands away causing him to chuckle.

"Babe. It's not stupid at all. Trust me, I won't get a hernia or huff or puff, okay? I'm an athlete, I play a sport which requires a great deal of strength. I probably lift weights heavier than you. Even if you weighed 6000lbs I'd glad pick you up and put you in my lap and arms"Kenji assured me whiles he pulled me closer and held my hands.

"I know it's scary but please trust me. I think you're the most beautiful girl ever. With all cute abundance as well. It means I get a marshmallow and extra softness to cuddle, okay?" Kenji smiled and stood up pulling us both to our feet. He pulled me closer and wrapped his arms around my waist. "Can we try it? I promise I won't drop you or strain? I'm not fragile, my love. I won't break if I pick you up. Come on your dating the Ken Sato. Believe when I say you're not heavy at all"

Kenji was convincing but I was still anxious. I really didn't want to be embarrassing or scarred for life...again. I didn't want to witness my boyfriend struggle under my weight but then again, he was right. He did lift weights far heavier than me. His half alien self did have that extra strength and power. I looked up at him and Kenji gave me the puppy eyes and the pout. I groaned and sighed, he really did look like a kicked puppy. "Please princess of mine, please. Trust me?"

"Finnnne. I'm being serious, baby. I'm trusting you. J-Just a minute, okay?" I stammered anxiously. Kenji's smiled brightened up and without a second of hesitation, his large hands wrapped around my thick thighs and picked me up without a struggle or hassle. My instant reaction was to push him away and stiffened up, but I took a deep breath. Kenji wrapped my legs around his waist. His hands laid comfortably under my thighs. I looked at him expecting a tomato face or something but he seemed..fine. Genuinely content and happy as he rocked from side to side slowly.

" Look at that..I'm not huffing or puffing. Neither am I crumbling. See ,baby trust me. You're as light as a paperclip to me. I can toss you around like a ragdoll if I wanted" Kenji shrugged with a triumphant smirk as his hands climbed up and onto my rear. I flushed and breathed a sigh of relief. It was still a lot to get used to but I really liked this. It was nice."Feels good, huh? Plus you're all nice and close to me. I get to kiss you more too"

Kenji spoke softly whiles his lips peppered kisses all over my face. Small flustered giggles left my lips as I leaned into his affection.

"Guess I was too anxious. Thank you, baby. Means alot that you're patient like this. The reassurance means alot as well" I say softly whiles nuzzling my cheek against his cheek. Kenji hummed in satisfaction as well nuzzling against me as well.

"This is nothing, baby. I just wanted you close and for you to be more comfortable in your own skin. I love you so much. All of you. In and out, okay? In fact, I'd like to add to all that chubbiness. Just make you eat even more" Kenji murmured whiles kissing my cheek continously. I giggled and shook my head. We stood like this for a few minutes in a comfortable silence as we exchanged kisses and nuzzles. It was so nice and intimate. The once nervous and anxious air from before seemed to have dissipated as we cuddled in content.

"You know this means I can eat you out in the air now" Kenji murmured with his cheek restint against my head. I clicked my tongue, with a flustered gasp and gently pinched his chest. "Ow! What? Wishful thinking..you know? A little manhandling..come on you know you want to?"

"Kenji Sato!"

"Okay..Okay..I'm sorry..maybe we can try the butterfly position now-"

Thwack

"Ow!O-Okay. Okay. I'm sorry, babygirl. We can talk later hmm?"

[ivysprophecy]

slim pickins

warnings; bad date? mentions of sex, cursing underage drinking and yes i meant for it to be written poorly i was trying to keep the humor of the album in the writing

masterlist | p. 2

no pressure tags; @murdockcastleslut @kimoralov3 @arkofblake

word count; 1911

summary; youre tired of not finding a decent guy who will treat you right and lay you right. at least not one you've known since you were kids. however you just cant help yourself. besides its slim pickins out here you take what you can get.

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

i wanna make one thing clear, when i say there are no good guys left i do not wanna hear about you and your boyfriend of three years that can cook and loves your mom.

thats exactly what im talking about maddie!!! i dont give two fucks that he took you to barnes and noble and bought you every book you wanted.

they are all taken. its plain and simple.

which is why even with a full roster, im stuck taking fucking zander, yes with a z, to my friends' kegger.

i mean yea hes cute. hes tall, built but not that gross kind of muscly. but if were being real i shouldve known better when he was joking about being a male stripper when hes a ginger.

and i can tell kie is judging me, rightfully so. her side eye is lethal. when i introduced him to everyone she asked him about his greta van fleet tee and he said he didn't even know it was a band.

needless to say pope had to drag her away.

after that incident i decided it was best if we tried to talk away from the rest of the group. boy was i wrong.

"so what do you like to drink? ill go grab us something," i offer trying to start the conversation, also avoiding the usual problem with taking a drink from men.

"im good with whatever"

i like to think im not a violent person, but im about to be.

"does a beer sound okay?" i ask him grabbing a twisted tea for me from the cooler.

"sure thing." god why is he acting like such a bitch? i should ask him if he's on his period.

i hand him the can, our fingers brush and its my final clue for the night that i am definitely not going home with him. no spark at all. hes done just about everything else to piss me off.

he did the thing where he licks his lips exaggeratingly looking me up and down, making a point to make sure i saw.

he walks so slow for being 6'3.

and finally he tried to mansplain my career to me. i'd had just enough when he opens his mouth again

"ew, you like twisted tea? who likes sweet tea?" his face contorted in disgust, it was about to contort from my fist breaking his goddamn nose if he keeps talking to me like this.

"we literally live in the south dude." my face could not make it any clearer i am so done with this guy.

"still, sweet tea is disgusting. im not kissing anyone that drinks that nasty shit."

"who said i wanted to kiss your nasty fucking mou-" i was interrupted by the sound of a very familiar giggle behind me as his arm wrapped around my shoulder, the smell of his deodorant and sea salt that cover his skin start to put you at ease.

jj was always there when you needed him, sometimes even when you didnt but right now you couldn't be more grateful. "im glad you found those mama i got em just for you. remembered theyre your favorite. right?"

and you wanna know the best part? zander is shaking already pissed off that jj is at my side. territorial i guess.

"you mind?" he asks him nodding his head at me like im not even there.

jj cant help but laugh at him "yea bud i do mind. she's hanging out with me tonight. have fun with your ipa dick." and with that he steers us off to where the rest of the pogues are.

but not before i can look over my shoulder and give the ginger an innocent smile and a shrug as if i had no control over the situation, when really id pick jj over anyone else.

"you owe me a big fat kiss mama," jj whispers in my ear walking us over to where our friends are standing, drinks in their hands laughing and chatting up a storm.

"in your dreams honey."

"every night all night," he quips back before i shove him off me.

now before you give me shit, jj and i have had our fair share of fun, but unfortunately im starting to look for something more serious.

watching john b and sarah be disgusting together is getting to my head. popes got something going on with cleo and im starting to recognize the pattern. and before i know it everyone will be in love if i don't start making an effort in that department.

random casual hook ups aren't doing it anymore, especially considering they aren't even that good.

unless theyre with jj.

but hes not an option, theres too much drama. too much history. too much too much too much. im not what he needs and i know for a fact he doesn't want me in that sense.

is that a bit dramatic? probably.

i mean hes a great lay, he's hilarious, he's got that blue collar kind of muscle, and he genuinely cares about me.

so of course im not going to date him, why would i?

what do you mean make good decisions? id rather do things in the most difficult way possible!

"y/n youve gotta stop giving those guys a chance, im starting to feel bad for you."

"you try finding a decent guy in a ten mile radius." i glare at him, obviously not wanting to joke about this right now.

he sticks his hand out in front of me, "fine i will. let me see your phone."

curious to see what he will do i hand it too him unlocked, he swipes and taps for a few moments, smiling down at the phone before handing it back to you.

when you look back down at the screen all you see is your instagram open with his stupid fucking smiley face on the screen.

he took a picture of himself and posted to my story. written on the screen in bubble letters in my favorite colored heart 'my favorite guy <3'

"i think he's your best bet." that same smile facing back at me now, cockier than ever. so smug i wanna kiss it off his face

i cant help but roll my eyes. "jj im serious! at this rate im going to die alone. every decent guy is taken or unavailable. all i want is someone funny, kind, and attractive is that too much to ask for?"

"im right in front of you mama you dont gotta look far."

"jj we both know we're not the serious kind of relationship im talking about."

"you can think what you want too but ill be here waiting for that kiss you owe me."

"i think all that tequila youve been sipping has gone to your head maybank."

he stands in front of me, taking his signature red cap off his head and putting it on mine smiling down at me, "what do they say in those books you read? you wear the hat you ride the cowboy?"

"this no ten gallon hat and you are no cowboy."

we laugh at each other, its always been easier to do that then actually talk about our feelings. so i put his hat back on his head, backwards the way he i likes it.

"cmon y/n/n, have a few more drinks, relax and hang out and ill make you feel all better later yea? its what im best at, you know."

"its gonna take more than a few more teas to convince me jj"

"what about that thing you like that i do with my tongue, huh mama? doesnt that sound pretty good right now? i think it does."

"i give you one fucking compliment and it goes straight to your head."

"technically its about my head so that makes perfect sense," he hands me another can with that stupid signature smirk of his and his stupid sexy hat backwards. i hate to admit it's working on me.

just like it does every other time.

i squint my eyes at him taking the can, rolling the idea around in my head. "fuck it. its not like anyone else is offering," i take a big sip of my drink.

jj pumps his fist in the air like a victorious idiot giving a few woots and hollars before picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder despite my wishes.

"jb!!" he shouts turning around to face him, "we're headed out!"

john b looks at the two of us shaking his head at how im kicking my feet to wiggle out of jjs oddly strong grip. "make sure you change the sheets when youre done!"

oh my god he did not just say that. "fuck both of you!"

jj just laughs carrying you back to the chateau like a kid who's excited to use a brand new birthday present.

"what happened to letting me have a few more drinks before we left??"

"youre just too irresistable mama, gotta have you now,' he gives my ass a light slap for good measure causing me to roll my eyes for the 600th time tonight.

"are you gonna put me down now?"

he pretends to look like hes thinking about it, "i guess. only so i can watch you walk away," he does as he says helping me get my feet on the ground.

"youre a pervert."

"no im flirtatious, and you love it, you know it makes you blush i see it. now go on and give me a lil walk yea?"

oh im gonna kill him...

oh wait! im gonna kill him!

"okay... fine. but no touching until we get home," i smile walking away exactly like he asked, but i know behind me he is a puddle of mud. standing still, about to start begging me to let him.

he finally catches up after a few seconds "mama please- cmon thats not fair. you look too good in those shorts you know i cant wait that long. just wanna feel you."

i cant help but giggle at his words, its honestly adorable how mopey he gets. like i just kicked his puppy or something.

"hands of jj i mean it... not until that door shuts behind us."

it didn't really matter that i can see the chateau or that ill be there in literally a minute.

its actually painful for jj to not be able to touch me as he pleases.

i turn around to face him with a cheeky smile. "you want me maybank?"

and of course he nods so hard it looks like his head is going to fall right off.

"come and get me," running towards the house, i can see the moment when his reflexes kick in, his boots thudding against the ground as he gains on me.

just before i can make it to the poarch jj wraps his arms around me, lifting me a few inches off the ground and spinning me around in a fit of laughter.

"okay! okay okay okay you win- you got me."

"oh ive got you mama, and im havin you for the rest of the fucking night," he presses a kiss to my neck hauling me inside, the screen door slamming shut after us.

am i gonna regret this tomorrow? most likely.

but what can i say? its slim pickins in this part of town.

[777heavengirl]

the one with Pobol y cwm

sirius black x reader ! - 1,091 words masterlist bags masterlist A/N: HAPPY BDAY SIRIUS BLACK MY BELOVED- SURPRISE UPDATE IN HONOR OF HIM TODAY- oh dear pls dont look at this too in detail i am very sick and exhausted but i wanted to put something out for his bday...

Sirius had never been a crier. Yet as his nimble fingers dug into the soft material of your sweater, and his body shook with sobs— it became clear to you that he had just been holding it in. 

He hadn’t said much after he walked through his door, red-eyed and ready to crumble. 

But you knew. 

You had always been this way. Just knowing, him. Knowing somehow, what he was thinking, what he was feeling. You could tell, most of the time anyway.

You knew he felt sorry, and you knew he felt frustratingly heartbroken. Angry and furious, but deeply blue. The little boy inside of him had lost his mother, and there was nothing he could say to himself that would make it better. 

 Because through all her faults, her disgusting vile words, and even worse behavior. Through her hexes and unforgivable curses, through every bit of torture that Walburga had subjected Sirius through, it was still his mother.

She would always be his mother.

Disowned or not, abuser or not, the owner of his nightmares, the person he hated most. Nothing could ever erase the fact that for at least the first sixteen years of his life, she had been his mother, and in a way, in a deeply hurtful, and grief-ridden way, she would always be. 

So he cried. For the mother he had until age ten, for the mother he had been subjected to until sixteen, for the mother he never had in the first place. 

It didn’t matter how many times Sirius told himself to not cry over her, it didn’t matter that he truly hated her. It didn’t matter he once had half a mind to kill her himself. He realized that he’d never get the good relationship he had always secretly wanted. As long as she was alive, even though Sirius would rather die himself than admit it, the stupidest goddamn part of him was still holding on to that chance. 

He had never realized he was still clutching onto that.

Until the chance got ripped away.

So you sat, with his face buried in your stomach as he kneeled in front of his bed, in front of you. Sobbing. His arms around your torso and clutching at the material of your jumper with white-hot fists. 

You didn't know what else to do besides hug him back, trying not to cry. Your hands pet his hair, strong and steady, because you knew that was what he needed the most right now. 

Your reliability, your care, your unconditional love for him. 

And you did, love him that is. 

From the bottom of your heart, you loved Sirius Orion Black.

Even if you hadn’t talked in weeks, even if you felt like a ghost in the house, even if you had been planning your move out no less than thirty minutes ago in a fit of anxious desperation.

“I’m sorry Sirius” you didn’t think he heard you over his earth-shattering sobs, but he shook his head slightly, almost as if wanting to say no, don’t be. “I am sorry, I know she was horrid-”

“I hate her-” his words were hoarse and raw, he didn’t look up. “I still hate her, I need her to wake up so I can tell her- god I can’t tell her-” You could feel his words reverberating through his throat, 

“I hate her so much, I hoped she’d die in some- in some disgusting gruesome death, I just-” he took a deep breath, his breath ragged and shaky “I hoped it would be something ironic and karmic like getting hit by a muggle bus but that goddamn bitch had the audacity to go in peace- in her sleep no less merlin- I- I- just keep hoping that I’m dreaming and that she’s… there and rotting alive in that awful house” 

“I’m sorry-”

His voice was calmer now, still buried in your sweater, still embracing you. “I hate her and I am glad she’s dead, she doesn’t deserve to be alive and well after everything she put me and my brother through- but the stupidest part of me- is still mourning”

He loosened his hold on you, and he slumped between your legs, his face now only half-buried in your torso. You could see the red splotches that had bloomed on his porcelain skin.

“I don't know what I feel any more love, I feel out of control”

“I know”

“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you”

“I’m sorry too-”

“Please don’t leave me… don’t leave me alone”

“I don’t think I could leave even if I wanted to Sirius- not that I do… don’t worry-” Your fingers carded through his hair “I will always be here”

“I’m sorry-”

“You don’t have to apologize- we can talk about that later… do you want to go for a walk?”

He lifted his head up slightly, enough to steal glances of your face as he wiped his face with his fingers. 

“Can we just watch Pobol y cwm-” his voice was low and gloomy, it broke your heart.

“Yeah, we can watch Pobol…” You tried smiling at him, it was a sad one, but he mirrored it nonetheless. It was hard not to get emotional while seeing him this way. 

Shattered and somber. 

Irrevocably burdened with the knowledge that while yes he mourned his mother, just some idolized version of her he buried deep within the confines of his mind— he would never get justice either. 

Sirius Black was relieved, he realized, as he laid his head on your shoulder and watched the advertisements on TV. His abuser was dead, it was more than he could ask for. Yes, he’d have to talk to you eventually, tell you how he feels, even simply explain why he got so upset. He’d have to write to his brother and not repeat the cycle of anger that was embedded deep within their veins. He’d eventually have to face his father. He’d have to face the fact that he, did indeed, have grief over the death of Walburga. 

But all of that could wait for tonight, he had you right now. 

With your arm around him, tucking his much larger form into your side, with his legs over your thighs and Pobol y cwm playing in the back. The soft of your sweater, and the sweet soft scent of your hair, the warmth from your hand drawing circles on his back. It was all that mattered right now.

It was just you and Pobol y cwm.

taglist ; @thatlittlered @giuli-in-earth

let me know if you wanna be added ! or if i missed you

[obeymematches]

very fluffy and in depth hcs of a mc that basically lives off of cuddles? if you dont wanna do all of them can you only do lucifer, mammon, beel & diavolo? its fine if you dont wanna write this request tho! <3

i just need to snuggle up with them and maybe receive a forehead kiss yknow?

(also its def not bc of their man boobs wdym..)

thank you baby for sending in this ask, writing it cleared my skin and watered my plants- 💐🌸🌻

also your taste in men is very good 💯💯💯

this just teeth rotting fluff. GN MC.

❤️Cuddling HCs❤️

Lucifer:

Cuddling can only happen at night / the evening. Even on the weekends he is too busy to be cuddling during the day.

When you get in bed next to him he usually smells like coffee & sweat ngl. At first he does try to hide it with a nice expensive perfume but it might be best to cuddle after taking a shower.

He loves it if you curl up against him, laying your head on his chest. He is surprisingly gentle with his strokes in your hair!

He prefers not to talk or just very short I love yous are accepted. This is his calming, recharging moment.

His arms are strong as he puts them behind your back, or under your head if that's what you prefer. His weakness is stroking his head between his ears and forehead.

He is very glad to kiss your forehead without you having to ask! He is actually very affectionate if he is with you, and only you! Prefers holding one of your hands the entire time.

My love... Holding you in my arms in this moment makes me feel tranquil. As if nothing could ever go wrong again... I am aware it only lasts such a short time... I'm truly sorry we can't do this more often. Can you forgive me, my dearest?

Mammon:

Here is some Mams cuddles

Beelzebub:

Cuddling Beelzebub feels like the most natural thing. You fit just right under his arms, his legs. He can go on like this for hours. Nothing else has to happen and he is the most content demon in the world.

Being so close to him makes you realize he smells like deodorant and grass.

Likes to eat as you cuddle! Always brings you your favourite snacks! He can fall asleep very quickly like this though. Please just stroke his back he is going to melt into your touch.

He is going to kiss you with his hand holding yours to the bed. He kisses you very passionately, towering over you, using his tongue as he should; gluttony gets the best of him.

Very gentle with you the entire time. Carefully moves every inch of his body not to hurt you.

If you decide to lay too far away from him he just sweeps you right where you should be; entirely next to him!

Skin on skin contact is very important for him, pls don't wear too many clothes!!

I'm stronger now, but I can grow even more if you stay by my side. I'll do everything to support you, and I hope you will continue to support me too. I love you. So very deeply. Thank you for being here with me.

Diavolo:

I just think he enjoys being the little spoon. He can be the tiniest little spoon if he wants to!!

Loves to talk. This is no time to be quiet for more than 5 minutes. Something always comes to his mind which he wants to share.

His smell from up close isn't so easy to describe; it's a lingering smell of expensive parfume but also pine tree.

Can and will cuddle you in the afternoon if he/you needs it. Tea time can buzz off this is 300% better.

Talks about how nice it was to Barbatos. Poor Barb doesn't know how to react to this information.

Ah he definitely plays with the blanket; he likes to tuck you in real well, sometimes pull it over your head and kiss you in the dark.

Tickle fights are inevitable if you cuddle for too long. (He doesn't want to let you go pee but you must. So you tickle him.)

Sometimes he can forget how heavy he is though and if he falls asleep while on top of you, you'll be sore by the time he wakes up.

Ah just imagine the pure joy in his eyes the entire time.... sigh

My darling y/n... You are my most precious treasure in the entire world. You enchant and fascinate me, and each day, you ignite me.

[irishmammonagenda]

Boop!- Obey Me x Reader

Summary: You go on a mission to boop, as per usual chaos ensues. Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Female Reader (implied), i dont really think there's anything else but if you can see something lmk and i'll add a warning

very obviously inspired by tumblr's boop event

dividers by @saradika-graphics

"Hello Michael!" You greet, signature foxy grin on your face. Michael looks up from where he's playing Connect Four with a man in robes and waves at you.

"Hiya MC!" He puts the palms of his hands on the soft cloud ground and leans back on them, he's bare chested in the heat, though he's adorned himself with waist beads and arm bands, firm muscles on display. His long curly blond hair is in intricate braids, small ornaments threaded through it. He grins up at you, bright red eyes shining under the light of the Celestial sun. "What's brought ya up to the Celestial Realm today?"

"I am evil. I am very evil Michael." You say seriously.

The other man laughs, though not unkindly. His tanned skin shimmers ethereally under the light, dark brown eyes stare up at you, rich like soil after the morning due. Dark waves and soft curls frame his face, some soft stubble one his jawline, barely noticeable. "I'm sure you're not evil." He says kindly.

You stare at him, before smiling as well, touched. "Aww thanks! And you are?"

The man smiles, reaching his hand up, Michael takes that time to sneakily move one of the coins the man had put down a slot over. "I'm Jesus, it's nice to meet you MC."

You cough. "You're Jesus?"

"Yes." He nods, "A lot of people are shocked when they first meet me...something about expecting me to look like Da Vinci's gay lover."

You nod, dumbfounded.

Michael, sensing your inner turmoil, and also needing to keep Jesus' attention elsewhere so he could continue cheating- winning creatively in Connect 4, clears his throat, "So what's brought you to the Celestial Realm and made you claim that you're evil?"

This makes you grin, "Well, my dearest Michael....have you heard of boops?"

Michael straightens up a little bit, Jesus watches him intently, before fixing the board to its original state whilst the Archangel is distracted.

"No I have not...Why, what are they?" Michael asks, signature mischievous grin on his face. "They sound fun."

"Well I'm glad you asked Michael!" You grin, before leaning in and whispering into his ear. The added proximity made you realise he smelt of pine cone and fresh rain.

Michael giggles evilly, turning over to Jesus, before reaching a dark, jewel adorned hand and booping his nose. "Boop!"

Jesus just smiles, Crucifixion was worse. "It's your go, Michael."

"Oh of course! MC wait for this game to be over! I have...uh..business to attend to in the Devildom!"

You and Jesus share a look.

Michael looks over at you two, "You coming Jesus?"

The man smiles gently, "No thanks, I'm still traumatised from that one time when Satan tormented me in the desert."

"Oh okay...." Michael deflates the tiniest smidge before looking back at the board, spluttering. "Hey you moved the pieces!"

Jesus snorts, "Yeah, I moved the pieces back from where you tried to cheat."

"Lying's a sin." Michael huffs.

Jesus laughs, "Was that an admition of guilt?"

Michael falls onto his back dramatically, dark skin shining in the Celestial Realm's blessed light. "Ugh! Woe is me! This is worse than the time that one Irish kid got me confused with Michael Collins!"

Jesus pats his shoulder in pity. "Easter's a hard time for all of us."

Michael blinks at the scars on Jesus' palms from the nails and bites back a very bad Cross joke. "You could say that again."

After the game of Connect 4 ended, (Michael lost) you and the Archangel said your goodbyes to Jesus and began your journey down to the Devildom. Michael walks beside you, a good bit taller than you. Michael having swapped out his less than covering attire for a flowy white flare sleeved top that you'd imagine a pirate or a Victorian would wear, the lace buttons are undone for the most part, as per usual. You'd come to learn that the Archangel hated top buttons with a burning passion.

"I call Lucikins." Michael says with about as much seriousness as a 10 year old calling shotgun on the front seat of the car. So very serious.

"Fine. I call Mammon." You reply, looking up at him, as if daring him to try and boop your first man before you could. He pouts, but relents.

"I call Satan then." Michael blinks back at you with crimson eyes.

"No why?" You sulk.

Michael shrugs. "He's my nephew. I get to boop his nose it's the law."

"No it's not."

"Yeah it is!"

"Prove it then." You huff.

Michael turns around and you hear fidgeting before he hands you a paper napkin with writing on it. You notice the fountain pen he sneakily snuck back into his trouser pocket and glare at him, before reading the napkin.

The Eleventh Commandment: Thou shall let Michael boop his nephew's nose.

You hum, "Something's telling me this is fake."

Michael gasps incredulously, as if offended by the very notion, he places a hand over his breast, where his heart is. "How dareth thou! Truly, 'tis a crime against nature to speak such filth about the Holy Word. A crime against God I daresay!"

"Okayy...drama king."

Michael gasps again. "Alas! Thou speaketh such filth! Such blasphemy to thee! Thy words...such horrors! Cursed are thou amongst humankind!"

You deadpan. "I'm taking away your Shakespeare rights."

"Try it I dare you." Michael challenges, red eyes gleaming with something predatory. "You can boop Simeon."

You grin. "Yay!"

"I call Luke."

Your grin drops. "What the frickety flip that's my son."

Michael's brows furrow. "He's my son too what the flip."

You gasp, bringing your hands to your mouth. "Did we?..."

Michael's eyes widen, he pulls his top up and counts his ribs, losing count several times because you keep adding random numbers in. He looks up at you.

"Did we have a child out of Wedlock?!"

You and Michael look at each other in object horror. Both conveniently ignoring the fact that Luke technically came into existence millennias before you.

"I think we did...." You place your hand over your brow like a Victorian woman seeing the ankles of her secret lesbian lover for the first time.

Michael follows suit.

"Michael....I fear we might be sinners...."

"Well you know what they say in the human world MC...." Michael sniffles, looking away from you dramatically. "Sinner sinner chicken dinner...."

You pause, breaking character. "Is it not Winner winner chicken dinner?"

Michael shrugs. "Not like I care."

You parrot his movement, shrugging your shoulders back as well, before the horror creeps back onto your expression. "But...Simeon and Barbatos also see Luke as their son...."

Michael looks at you wide eyed, grabbing you by the shoulders, "MC! We have to count their ribs!"

You put your head in your hands, "Two angels, a demon and a human with angel blood that's somehow an angel....our son is a hybrid!"

Michael gasps. "Hybrid princess?"

You do a double take. "Why do you know what gacha is." You breath out, looking at Michael in genuine fear.

"I wasn't a gacha kid don't worry! Levi was though! He'd show me his little Gacha stories that he made...." Michael looks nostalgic. "Such an adorable little weirdo....he gets it from Lucifer y'know."

"If I described Lucifer as an adorable little weirdo I think he'd skin me alive."

"That sounds like a you problem." Michael grins.

You and Michael continue your journey down to the Devildom, only this time he's giving you a piggy back ride because you annoyed him until he agreed. Strong hands hold your thighs to keep you from falling, as your arms are wrapped around his neck.

You had been 'calling' people to boop.

"I call Diavolo."

"Deal." Michael nods, trying and failing to twist his head around to face you because you're on his back and he's not an owl. "I don't want to accidentally start another Celestial War by booping the Prince and acting King of the Devildom's nose."

"That's surprisingly a good reason."

"Fuck you mean surprisingly?" Michael scoffs, though there's no real bite to it. "I'm always having good reasons."

"Yeah and I'm the spawn of Satan." You say sarcastically, human world side winning over for a second, until you remember that Satan is in fact a real person and that you are in fact now in the Devildom.

Michael laughs, "You know who Satan's the spawn of? Lucifer."

"Don't let him hear you say that."

"What's he gonna do? Bully me while I'm in a desert? Jokes on him, I hate sand and don't go anywhere near it."

"I don't feel safe anymore, we're gonna get jumped."

Michael laughs.

"I call Levi, I need to return an anime to him anyway." Michael breaks the silence.

"You borrow animes from Levi?"

"Yeah sometimes, me and Saint Peter watch animes at the gates of Heaven when it's a slow day and not a lot of souls are being guided into it."

"Nah imagine dying and waking up in heaven to see the people at the gates watching anime."

Michael sticks out his tongue, though stops when he remembers you're on his back and can't see it.

"I call Barbatos."

Michael sighs in relief, carrying you through the streets of the Devildom. "Thank God, you can have him. Good luck with that."

"Go fuck yourself Michael. I call Thirteen."

Michael gasps excitedly. "Tell her I say hi!"

"Tell her yourself."

Michael huffs. "You're so mean to me MC."

You bite his neck, really embodying your inner feral street cat. He yelps. "Don't try to steal my wife, next time I'll bite your jugular pretty boy."

Michael laughs, "I am quite pretty..." He flips his hair, the intricate golden braids and curls hit you in the face, seeing as you're still on his back. You let out a sound similar to a feral street cat coughing up a hairball, he laughs again. "Also I'm pretty sure Thirteen is a lesbian."

You perk up. "Oh yay! You should be the priest at our wedding Michael. You don't have a choice."

"Fine." The archangel huffs, his plump lips pouty. "But only if Luke's the flower boy."

"I was gonna make him the ring boy giver person." You reply, playing with one of the ornaments braided into Michael's hair.

"Even better!"

Moments of comfortable silence last before you decide to break it because you're evil and have no moral code whatsoever.

"Michael you can have Solomon."

Said Archangel halts. Dropping you off of his back before turning to look at you, now strewn out on the ground. He puts his hand over his brow like a Victorian man who just saw the ankles of his gay lover. (Probably Solomon: You'd decided.)

"No! How couldeth thou?" He sighs dramatically before it just turns exhasperated. "Those rumours just died down...."

You jump up off of the ground, wiping the soil from your clothes, "They have?! Dammit!"

Michael deadpans at you, pulling at a golden coil of hair and letting it be stretched straight before letting go and watching it bounce back up into a curl again. "I hate you."

"That's harsh."

After having separated from Michael, you sneak into your First Man's room. He sits lazily, lounging on his bed and scrolling mindlessly through his DDD. So enraptured he doesn't even notice your presence just yet until you press your finger to his nose.

"Boop!"

"ARGHH-" he screeches, jumping atleast five feet in the air before realising it was you and scoffing. "Oh...It's you...o-of course ye'd wanna boop the Great Mammon's nose! That'll cost ya!" He huffs, trying to avoid the initial embarassment of you seeing him so uncool!

"Boop!" You boop him again, he grins stupidly like an idiot inlove, before snapping out of it and putting his 'too cool for this' persona back on.

"T-that'll cost ye! MC!" He stutters, trying to cover his blush.

"Oh will it now?" You raise a brow before bringing your lips to his nose and pecking it there, pulling away again in less than a second. "Boop."

He pulls you in for a hug before you can pull away completely. You grin, having reduced the Avatar of Greed to a blushy pile of mush in your arms.

Take that Alpha Male podcasters who think women want dominant mean men who suck and hate them. Everyone knows all women want a Mammon.

You and Michael meet back up again. Michael having a scratch on his leg.

"Satan did not like the fact that I booped him at first...until I gave him an emergency kitten that I put in a cage nearby like 5 minutes before." Michael says, noticing that you noticed the scratch. "He almost bit me! He's definitely Lucikin's son!"

You point and laugh at him. He pouts, before interlocking your arms. "Purgatory hall?"

"Purgatory hall." You nod.

Michael knocks on the door. Luke answers it before gasping like a child on christmas. "Michael! Hi!" He hugs the Archangel who laughs and picks him up.

The blond boy notices you at that point, he smiles brightly. "Oh MC! Hi!"

"Hiya Luke!" You smile at him, booping his nose. "Boop!"

"Michael follows suit. "Boop!"

Luke blinks before grumbling. "I'm not a child..." He then turns his head back towards Michael who's still holding him. "Boop!"

Michael laughs. "Do MC now!" With that he quickly moves closer to you, Luke still in his arms, and the young angel boops your nose too. You all grin, laughing. Luke just ecstatic that Michael was able to visit. And he brought you too!

You end up watching a movie together, all three of you. Simeon comes home halfway through it. Having had to visit a publishers. Michael hides behind the door and when Simeon opens it, the dark skinned angel pops out, booping the poor man. "Boop!"

Simeon blinks at him. Michael smirks lightheartedly "Get booped Loserboy."

Simeon smiles, his gaze turning toward you." MC would you lie any help with your Solomon x Michael fanfiction? I heard from Satan that you two were on hiatus."

Michael groans. "Traitors!"

You laugh. "Get fanficked Loserboy."

Michael grins, putting on faux dramatics. "You both suck I'm going back into Luke! At least he's actually cool."

After a lovely movie with Luke, Simeon and Michael, you run away to a cave because why not?

After entering Thirteen's very lovely abode, and avoiding all of the traps laid out for Solomon, you finally catch a glimpse of her vibrant ombre hair.

"Hiya Tee!" You grin, pouncing on her and pulling her into a hug. The reaper, who's clearly batshit insane doesn't even flinch, she just laughs, hugging you back even tighter.

"MC! To what do I owe the pleasure babes?"

You giggle michieviously before bringing your hand up and, "Boop!"

She grins wider, bloodied emerald eyes staring back at you so lovingly, hints of playful devilry in her expression.

"Oh let me try! Boop!" She says before pulling you in for a kiss that makes your knees feel weak.

When you both pull away to catch a breath, you breathe out breathlessly. "That was a super boop....an evil boop even..." You say, face burning red, you know she feels the red hotness of your cheeks.

She just laughs. Tilting her head, some strands of hair falling into her face. "You want another one?"

You've never nodded quicker in your life.

"How in Diavolo's name did you get in here?" Lucifer asks, looking up from the work on his desk. He quickly closes over the confidential files and paperwork, turning his head to Michael once more. Blood red eyes narrowed at their counterpart's.

Michael approaches the Demon at a speed that could rival Mammon's. In an instant he's beside the raven-haired man. "Awww Lucikins don´t worry about it! Boop!"

Lucifer swallows thickly, and flicks his gaze to Michael. Despite having the glare of a thousand suns on him, Michael continues grinning. "Did you...did you just boop my nose?..." The Avatar of Pride asks in a low voice.

"I'm not too sure if I did..." Michael puts his fingers to his chin in mock thought, before grinning, pointer finger in the air. "I'll have to do it again to make sure!" The Archangel exclaims before booping his younger brother on the nose. "Boop!"

Lucifer growls. "Michael-"

"Yes, Lucikins?"

"Michael I am going to kill you."

The elder only laughed, "Awww classic Lucikins! Still in his teenage angst phase!"

"I did not have a teenage angst phase." Lucifer glares, huffing embarassedly, turning away and picking up his quill in an attempt to turn away from this god awful conversation.

Michael gives him a knowing look. "Don't make me pull out the photos."

His head snaps back to his elder brother. "What photos?"

"The photos of you with the wolf cut, the ones with you and the eyeliner, the ones where you're all dressed up in your little emo costumes..." Michael wipes a tear from his eye. "Oh...you were so adorable! Always threatening to murder me...! Glad to see that my wittle baby brother hasn't changed!" The Archangel exclaims, pinching his younger brother's cheeks and making them squish up, Lucifer felt his face flush with embarrassment. Michael laughed, he looked like a chipmunk!

"...'m no' a 'ittle ba'y bro'er! you'r tw' minu'es ol'er than 'ee!" Lucifer tries to shout, but with Michael pushing his cheeks together, it comes out muffled and distorted.

"All I heard is that you said I'm the best big brother in the three realms and you love me very much!"

Lucifer glares at him. A glare that doesn't hold any weight seeing as Michael is still squishing his cheeks together and he still looks like a chipmunk.

With enough squirming and fighting, Lucifer finally manages to get out of his brother's grip, he rubs his cheeks, staring daggers at the angel. "I would never say that. I'm not your baby brother. I'm not Lucikins. You're two minutes older than me yet two centuries more immature." He says venomously.

Too bad Michael's poison proof.

The Archangel laughs, "You're not my baby brother? Huh? Who's bed did you climb in when you were scared of the thunder back in the Celestial Realm?"

Lucifer bristles, swallowing thickly, "That's irrelevant."

"Sureee." Michael grins, though it's softer around the edges, Lucifer feels it too.

Lightning flashes in the Celestial realm. Long before Mammon had even been born. Thunder roars, a small whimper sounds. Lucifer sits in his bed, covers over his head, gripping a pillow tightly. Barely even a cherub, he takes the slight break in the storm to gather the courage to waddle over to his twin's bed.

"Mikey?" Lucifer whispers in the darkness, gripping onto the poles of the bed with his tiny pale hands. "Mikey...you awake?" He says through gapped teeth, a slight lisp in his voice. The gap between his two front teeth would close with time.

The sheets rustle, a young Michael groans, also barely a cherub his voice is as high pitched and childlike as his brother's. "Luci...go to sleep..." The slightly older cherub says, eyes still closed.

"Can't Mikey...'s too loud.." Lucifer whispers, black hair sticking to his forehead in a slight sheen of sweat. As if to prove his point, thunder roars again, lightning flashes. Lucifer whimpers, gripping the pole tighter.

Michael sits up sleepily, short curly hair tied in the tiniest protective braids possible, some small blond coils escaping their confines at the edges of his head. The older cherub wipes a small, chubby hand over his eyes and yawns before opening his duvet up just enough so that Lucifer could climb in.

"Make sure...go to sleep Lucikins..." Michael whispers tiredly, covering his yawning mouth before abandoning his teddy bear and putting his arm around his little brother instead.

Thunder sounds again. Lucifer stiffens and lets out a small sound. "Mikey...'m scared..." He grips onto his twins matching pajamas tightly with his tiny little hands.

Michael grins sleepily, red eyes staring into his twins same coloured ones. "Don't worry Lucikins! 'm always gonna p'tect you! That's wha' big brothers are for!"

The thunder still sounds, Lucifer still stiffens slightly,but surrounded by the warmth and comfort of his twin, he manages to sleep soundly.

After all the madness and badness. (Devil face emoji) You and Michael meet up in a Devildom café.

"That was productive!" The Archangel grins.

"Indeed it was Michael....indeed it was...." You say, a blissed out look on your face.

Michael arches a brow, "Is that one of Thirteen's leather jackets?"

"Maybe..." You say dreamily, playing with the sleeves.

Michael just laughs at you. "Get it, I guess! Anyway wanna watch Gilmore Girls with me? I need to catch up with Raphael...he's a few episodes ahead of me."

"Of course I do."

Michael brings his hands together in an imitation of a fly on a wall doing the hand thing. "Excellent."

.

.

.

"Do you think Luke's going to grow up to open a coffee shop?"

"Nah, he'd open a bakery."

this is utter bullshit and utter dogshit idek

[all-too-random]

We Don't Waste Food

Sanji Vinsmoke (OPLA) x reader

Sanji notices that you haven't been eating very much.

TW: Reader is implied to be in the process of recovering from an ED. The type/reasoning behind it has purposefully been left vague. Mentions of thr0wing up/feeling sick. Sanji wants to help but may do so in a way that not everyone finds helpful. Also he's kind of pushy in the beginning.

A/N: This is a very self indulgent fic based on my own struggles. If it is something you relate to and this helps, I am glad you found some comfort in it/sorry you relate. If you dont, please be kind anyway :) Also this is my first ever x reader fic in 7 years of writing fanfiction.

"I'm full," the sound glass scraping against wood rang throughout the dining cabin as you pushed your plate out of the way, glancing nervously at your lap, "Anyone who wants my leftovers can have them." Luffy reached across the table, already grabbing for the food on the plate. Sanji's hand reached it first, though, and the blonde chef made eye contact with you as he pushed the plate back to your spot. "Y/N, darling," he said. He was smiling, but his stare portrayed a more serious expression, "We don't waste food." You crossed your arms over your chest, your eyes meeting his blue ones, "I'm not trying to be wasteful, that's why I offered it up. I knew someone would want-" He cut you off, smile disappearing, "You need to eat it yourself. It's your favorite, I made it just for you." You nodded once, acknowledging the effort he put in, "And it was delicious. But now I'm full." There was a certain bitterness to your words, causing Sanji to hesitate. The rest of the crew looked on silently, exchanging nervous glances at one another as the scene played out. You barely paid them any notice, keeping your eyes locked on Sanji as you shoved yourself away from the table and stood up. "We don't waste food. So someone else can eat it, I'm not going to."

Your boots thudded against the wooden floor of the ship as you stomped away, suddenly feeling the need for fresh air. You didn't stop until you were at the edge of the deck. The wind whipped your hair around and you watched the sky turn orange against the clear water as the sun set on the horizon. Tears pricked at your eyes. They rolled over your cheeks despite your attempts to sniff them away, so you gave up. You were alone, anyway. No reason to hide your tears out here. They just didn't get it, you thought. Although it's not like you had ever tried explaining it to them before. You never meant to waste food. You just couldn't stop it. No matter how hungry you felt beforehand, your appetite seemed to wither the second food was in front of you. More than half a portion made you feel sick, and throwing your meals up into the sea felt worse than just offering it to someone who would it eat.

"Nice evening, isn't it madam?" You whipped your head around, quickly trying to wipe the tears from your face. Sanji stood several feet behind you, smiling once again, but still with a grim aire about him. "Yes, it is," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady as you turned back towards the ocean, "Very peaceful." You could hear the heels of the chef's shoes clicking against the wood until he appeared right next to you, resting his elbows on the edge of the ship. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him looking at you, studying your features. "I'm still not hungry," you told him, and you couldn't decide whether or not it was a lie. You were hungry, or at least, you should be. But you knew no more food would stay in your stomach for long. Sanji chuckled, dipping his head down, "Well, I gathered that much, love. I just can't figure out why. Only a banana for breakfast and nothing at lunch, by all means, you should be starving." You looked at him, eyebrows crinkled in confusion, "You know what I ate?" "I keep track," he says, shrugging his shoulders, "Helps me with my meal planning. I thought for sure you'd have a good dinner tonight, especially since I made something I knew you'd love." "I did love it," you admitted to him, sighing into the wind, "I just... don't eat much. It's hard." "Hard to eat?" He raised an eyebrow at you, "It shouldn't be, we have plenty of-" "Not like that," you cut him off, waving your hand through the air, "I know we have food, I just can never hold much of it. When I was younger, I forced myself not to eat... and I must have gotten good at it, because now I can't. And I hate it, because I get so hungry only to push food away, and I feel so wasteful." You could feel tears threatening to fall again, so you laughed, trying to act like there was nothing upsetting about the situation whatsoever. Sanji, however, did not laugh. He looked at you with sad eyes, which was even more intense since the wind was pushing his hair out of his face, meaning you could see both of them. It was quiet for a moment, with no noise but the waves lapping at the bottom ship. Then, the chef let out a sigh, opening his arms. You fell into him, burying your face into his pin-striped shirt. His strong arms immediately wrapped around you, his chin resting gently atop your head. "Thank you for telling me," he said quietly, placing a kiss against your hair, "I'm sorry I pushed you so hard." "It's alright," you whispered back, allowing yourself to cry on him, "You didn't know." He squeezed you tighter, "Well, now that I do know, I'm still worried about you. The way you've been eating still isn't healthy. I'll start giving you smaller portions, so you don't have to feel wasteful. And when you're ready, I'll gradually give you more. Like baby steps. Can you agree to that, my dear?" Pain shot through the inside of your cheek as you bit down, thinking his words over. Recovery was hard, but Sanji was willing to help.... You nodded your head, accepting the offer, "Little, tiny baby steps." Sanji laughed softly, running his fingers through your hair, "Sure, little, tiny baby steps. Whatever it takes, love. Would dessert be a good start?" He raised an eyebrow at you, and you laughed, "Well, that depends... what kind of dessert?"

[bloodyshadow1]

Not gonna lie, I am really like A-Train and Ashley's odd friendship this season. Like Ashley has always skirted the line of ass kisser to sympathetic person trapped in a hellish environment. While A-train's redemption arc has been one of my favorite parts of the Boys as a whole, but especially this season. Maeve was my favorite character and with her gone, I wasn't sure how I'd feel but A-Train filled the void in a lot of ways.

And it's surprising given how they've interacted in the past, especially season 3 where Ashley calls him out on his shit self-centered Hypocrisy, but I think he's a better person for it by the end and part of the reason they can change.

I'm glad it wasn't turned into a secret romantic relationship, it's made very clear that neither of them find the other attractive, at least not enough to view them as a sexual or romantic prospect. It's just a bond forged by two people who are trapped in hell that they're both terrified people who have done a lot of bad things, but are trapped with monsters willing to do far worse.

It's not even a friendship really because they still dont' really like each other or enjoy each other's company, but despite everything, they care . They sort of start with the' if you tell, I'll tell' mutually assured destruction thing and that evolves into covering for each other and making sure the other is alive.

In ep 7 though it really shows that they've come to care about each other against their will. Ashley is having a breakdown and drunk and wants A-Train to get them out of there. She offers to platonically run away with him away from Vought and just be free and happy away from the tower. A-Train isn't nice, but he basically does what he can to keep her grounded and not do something stupid because of guilt, fear, and booze, something she surely needs. And by the end A-Train had already outed himself as the mole, Noir was out of the building but nothing the boys did really hurt him, he could have told Homelander by then and A-Train knew that. Yet he still went back to the tower to try and get her out of there, something he didn't have to do. Ashley didn't even have anything over him since he outed himself as the mole, I've seen half a dozen reactors terrified that Homelander was already outside of Ashley's door when A-train tried to get her to leave. yet he still went back for her. Ashley for her part, even though she doesn't agree to leave with him, reminds him about his tracker chip, if he didn't get rid of that he would have been killed.

Now I haven't seen ep 8, I know some spoilers, but nothing much on these two so maybe it's been a set up to come crashing down. But for the last 7 eps it's been endearing to see the two of them being forced to build a relationship over blackmail and mutual fear.

[talk-nerdy-to-me-thyla]

I am so glad that post you made cleared up the production of Unification.

There's an image floating around of Sam Witwer in the TOS Kirk outfit without the makeup and all that stuff in the video, I think Dave Blass posted it somewhere.

...I would like to see it

But yes the make up transformations are INCREDIBLE. I was finally able to find a photo of him without the prosthetics. from what i can tell, they did his forehead, nose, eyes, and lip lines

honestly id mostly like to know how they did older jim. i know Shatner was involved but i dont know if he acted and they digitally made him younger or if he also had an older double??

X