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#but she also became her own person with time <3
tennessoui · 2 days
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3 or 60 for the Stacy's mom AU pretty please?
thank you for sending this in <3
[from this list of prompts] / [Stacy's Mom AU]
3. Do they wear the other’s clothes? (sweatshirt, bandana, necklace, etc.)
honestly as much as they'd both probably enjoy wearing each other's clothing, their styles and color choices are just so different that it's too noticeable and both of them are committed to flying under the radar with their relationship. the most they could get away with is probably anakin dumping his cloaks on obi-wan's shoulders at the slightest shiver from a slightly chilly day. obi-wan now owns like. 12 of anakin's cloaks. he has no intention of giving any of them back.
i imagine obi-wan attempts to give anakin a poorly carved jappor snippet after he reads about the cultural traditions on tatooine. it's really really ugly and it sort of looks like someone's hacked it to pieces and then set it on fire, but master skywalker takes to wearing it religiously.
also i think master skywalker's fascination with obi-wan's hair grows deeper now that he gets to play with it whenever he wants and lace his fingers through it, etc etc, and he takes a lot of calming joy out of playing with it at night if he's awake and obi-wan's asleep, which turns into braiding different sorts of hairstyles into his hair. obi-wan takes to wearing them around the Temple when he's awake - they're much fancier than the padawan braid and much, much more elaborate (because anakin can never do anything half-assed)
60. Who pulls the other closer when they’re sleeping?
lmao ok i think obi-wan's preferred sleeping position is with anakin draped on top of him which anakin is happy to accommodate. but anakin also runs hot, and obi-wan hates being hot in his sleep so anakin often wakes up to obi-wan-shaped fists and feet shoving him away (only to get cold a few hours later and pull him back closer as if he's not a jedi master but obi-wan's personal weighted blanket)
anakin doesn't really mind but he definitely fantasizes about retiring from the Order, convincing obi-wan to follow him, and moving them to some arctic snowy planet where obi-wan is always a little cold and never ever shoves anakin away during the night
snippet (pertaining to question 3)
At first, Obi-Wan is inclined to believe that Quinlan is doing this on purpose, out of some practical joke or in an attempt to tease him and prod at him as if they're still padawans. As if Quin doesn't have a padawan of his own now.
Obi-Wan blinks down at the young girl's upturned face. "Uh," he says, glancing up at Quinlan and resolutely not turning to stare at Anakin, who he can feel shaking with silent laughter beside him.
"Please," Orka adds, placing her hands behind her back. Not for the first time, Obi-Wan wonders how in the Force such a sweet child became Quinlan Vos' padawan.
"Uh, well," Obi-Wan says. "The thing is..." he stares hard at Vos, but the other man just looks expectant and slightly confused, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the tall duracrete pillar of the fountain behind him. "I think actually Master Skywalker would be thrilled to help you with your hair, Orka."
Quin raises an eyebrow. "Seems unlikely," he mutters, just low enough for Obi-Wan and Anakin to hear. Obi-Wan flushes even as Orka stomps her foot.
"But I want you to braid my hair, Knight Kenobi!" she says. "You have the best hair in the entire Order, all the padawans think so! Please braid mine to look like yours!"
Obi-Wan winces. Behind him, he can feel Anakin's hair traversing up his back to tug teasingly at the end of one of his longer braids. It's incredibly unhelpful. So is the fact that his lover is sitting there and laughing about this whole thing instead of trying to find some way to be helpful.
"The thing is, Orka," Obi-Wan says, clearing his throat. "I don't. Ah. Know how to braid your hair."
Quinlan and Orka both tilt their heads to the side in perfect mirror of each other. It would be cute if Obi-Wan did not feel so incredibly close to humiliation.
"What, you can't figure out how to braid someone else's hair?" Quinlan asks with his eyebrows firmly knitted together. "I'd think it'd be easier than doing your own. Less need to be...you know. Flexible. To get it done. And I mean, I know you're flexible, but..."
Obi-Wan closes his eyes, even as he feels Anakin's chin come to rest on the top of his shoulder. Oh of course, he's no help at all when faced with a youngling's innocent request for assistance, but the moment Quinlan Vos even slightly alludes to his and Obi-Wan's shared sexual history, and Anakin has to say something.
"I braid his hair for him, little one," Anakin tells Orka, reaching out and tucking a longer braided piece of hair behind Obi-Wan's ear. "What Knight Kenobi is too proud to say is that he doesn't actually know how to braid at all."
Orka's eyes widen and she turns to look in between the three of them as if this is an incredible, total betrayal.
Quinlan's own eyes also widen, but he looks more like Life Day has come early. "Oh," he says. "Oh."
"Shut up," Obi-Wan snaps in forewarning. "Whatever you're going to say---"
"But it's always all pretty by breakfast!" Orka protests, eyebrows knitting together. "Do you braid his hair for him every morning? Even before you eat?"
Anakin's Force signature is far too smug. He's enjoying this far too much. Obi-Wan is far too in love with him anyway. It's terrible for his health and his pride.
"Sometimes adults like to have sleepovers just as the younglings do," Obi-Wan says delicately. "Just as the younglings do," he repeats loudly when both Anakin and Vos snort. "And yes, sometimes Master Skywalker enjoys braiding my hair. During those sleepovers."
Mostly, Anakin enjoys braiding his hair either in the aftermath of sex or sometime during the night when Obi-Wan is asleep and malleable and Anakin is kept awake by some nightmare or another. Mostly Anakin enjoys braiding his hair because it's the only sort of claim he can lay on him--not while they're both still Jedi.
And mostly, Anakin. enjoys braiding his hair because he spent years seeing Obi-Wan walk around the Temple with another master's braid hanging down his shoulder, and he'd hated the sight of it.
"Oh," Orka says. She considers this new information before she turns with narrowed eyes to Anakin. "So you can braid my hair."
It sounds like a threat. This time, it's Obi-Wan who has to cover his snort with a cough.
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peachyfnaf · 4 hours
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I'm sorry but "MY BEAUTIFUL PRINCESS WITH A DISORDER<3" really made my day and I needed you to know
🤣🤣🤣
I can't believe Nexus is bullying peepaw war criminal.
Do you think Nexus is going to be stopped by big bro Sun or do you think the lil guy is going beyond the point of no return?
(Please talk about baby cringe Lord Nexus, I want to hear about your blorbo 🙏)
That's because Nexus IS my beautiful princess with a disorder, I'll have you know <3 they're diseased but it's okay I can give them their tetanus and flu shots and it'll all be better I GOT THIS
But. ahem, okay, blorbo yapping time. I'm not even gonna say "I'll try to keep this short" because I know it wont end up that way HAHAHAHAHA
"Do you think Nexus is going to be stopped by big bro Sun or do you think the lil guy is going beyond the point of no return?"
I... have absolutely no idea!!!1! (and also it took me an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize peepaw war criminal was Ruin KJDFHSDF)
The most frustrating thing about canon Nexus is how his morals, motivations, and goals seem to see-saw back and forth all the time. at first, he became how he is now due to Solar's death. he spiraled in his grief, identity-issues, and abandonment. but... now his motivation is to become an all powerful god??? while it's most likely that NSP is at play and affecting his thought process, it's... well, it's really hard to take him seriously as a villain because of it, lol. for an audience to enjoy, and even sympathize in some cases, with a villain, their goals and motivations have to be concrete. they have to be relatable, or at least understandable, but Nexus' whole thing is... not, Imho. and I know I'm not the only person who feels this way!!!
I see a lot of people calling Nexus "cringe", and the thing is, when it comes to canon Nexus, they're not really... wrong??? The worst thing Nexus has done so far is make Old Moon see his past victims, which is fucked up of him to do, but.. so far, that's kind of it??? other than that, his "villainy" consists of saying empty threats and cheesy evil one-liners. hell, he was supposed to kidnap Sun yesterday but instead spent the whole episode yapping and venting to him, chasing Sun around in the worlds darkest game of tag before getting some lead right in the face dkfjhsdfsd
Also, notice how he's only targeted Old Moon when it comes to actual physical violence? not Lunar, Earth, Solar, or Sun, but Old Moon? yeah, I did too. we already know that Nexus does everything because he's lashing out, but as of rn the only target he's gotten his hands on physically being O.M...? well. I think it says a lot. cause' yeah, he sure as shit scared the life out of the other Celestials, but he's never put his hands on them!! the only other one of them he harmed physically was Earth- and not only was he not aiming for her, she was just in the way- he felt immediate regret for his actions once in space, and has yet to even see Earth ever since that day.
So, I really have no idea if he's going to be "redeemed" or not. one second he's showing signs he might be, and the next he's falling further down the "pretty badly written villain" rabbit-hole. if he does get something akin to a redemption arc, he'll prolly mostly be accepted in the eyes of the viewers, considering a lot of peeps sympathize or at least understand where he's coming from, but I seriously doubt the other Celestials would take him back. the only one's who might see him as family/a close friend again are Sun and Solar, but even then, nothing would ever be the same.
I hope he gets redeemed, or at least freed from the hold Dark Sun has on him and he's able to live his own life, I really do. at his core, Nexus is a good person. a good person who was crushed under the weight of the shadow of the man he was born under. and we know this because he used to be New Moon. sweet, dorky New Moon.
New Moon, who made inventions like sentient knives and whoopee cushions. New Moon, who had matching My Little Pony stickers with his best friend. New Moon, who bought a whole ass island-luxury-house for Sun because he wanted to make him feel better and give him the proper space to heal. and New Moon- the poor freshly-baked A.I who gave his all to make sure he could do everything that Old Moon could, but it just wasn't enough. he tried and tried and tried, but it wasn't enough.
So yeah, idk if he's getting one in canon, but to me, he more than deserves a good ending, for the life he was given. let him be at peace.
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allmoshnobrain · 7 months
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A not so small ramble about Heartbreaker because the story is near its end and I've started writing the epilogue, which will tie all loose ends (spoilers for part 32 ahead!)
The whole thing about Heartbreaker is that everyone makes a lot of mistakes mainly because they are all so young when everything happens, but that doesn't make them terrible people - they just didn't know any better.
Dave unconsciously tries to alienate Nore from her friends because she's the only one he has left and he loves her, even though she begs him not to make her choose. He's also so deeply insecure that he becomes jealous and immediately believes Pat when she says Nore is cheating on him with James because well why wouldn't she, when he feels so much like a burden to her?
James tries to earn Nore's affection at all costs because he's in love with her, but he never considers Dave's feelings, his former best friend, who he already had hurt by kicking him off the band and cutting ties. He knows Nore likes him too, he can feel it, but he can't bring himself to just talk to her directly about it all - instead he pressures her, he begs her, please, please leave him, please love me instead. But when she gets hurt and confused because she loves them both, he starts dating her friend in an attempt to get over her, but that only hurts Nore more.
Nore doesn't want to hurt anyone. She just wants to be happy, she just wants her friends - her chosen family - to get along because the happier she had ever been was when everyone was together still. So she avoids telling Dave about her blossoming feelings for James, because she knows it will upset him. She avoids telling Dave so many important things, she avoids rejecting James fully too because she knows it will hurt him and she loves them both, she doesn't wanna hurt him, she doesn't wanna lose him. Then it all blows up in her face because you can't keep avoiding these kind of things forever - they take root, and they grow, and they become bigger the more you ignore them.
I also think Pat fits in this, although she was really mean about it lol James was her dream rockstar boyfriend, and when she realized she wasn't the one he really liked, she felt threatened and tried to sabotage his friendship with Nore instead of confronting him about it or just walking away.
I think the whole point in this is that James, Nore and Dave all tried to do what was easier, instead of what was right. Because none of them were mature enough to make the hard choices. None of them were mature enough to realize they were hurting themselves and hurting the people around them until it was too late.
But I said there would be a happy ending, and there will be! The story will be "finished" in part 35, but that won't really be the end. The epilogue will be set 7 years later, in 1991 - and we will see then the outcome of all of their choices and love and heartbreak. Pinky promise <3
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yuseirra · 4 months
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The journey
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jessamine-rose · 28 days
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*lovingly tackles Aine*
Read my Yandere! Pierro longfics first ♪( ´▽`)
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Last week, my beloved mutual @ainescribe surprised me with Savior! Darling fan art and AHAI9232@2-!/! CRYING SCREAMING I WANT TO LOOK AT THIS ART AND WORSHIP YOUR VERSION OF SAVIOR THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BLESSING ME WITH YOUR ART—
*clears throat* Anyway, now that I finally have the time to properly sit down and comment on the fan art, I’ll do just that. Feedback will be in the tags and it will be unhinged. Once again, thank you so much to Aine for drawing this <3
#feedback#fan art#ainescribe#AIIINE ;-; once again. thank you so much!! it rlly means a lot to me that you enjoyed my writing and felt inspired to draw this :'>#and as someone who loves fashion and character design. it's so so interesting to analyze your version of savior#there's so much symbolism and visual storytelling in each sketch/ outfit and i shall now proceed to pick apart each detail as best as i can#her snezhnayan fit.....god i love it. it's regal. distinctively snezhnayan. and draws attention to her--and you just know that was pierro's#intention when he dressed her in those garments. IT'S JUST SO...!! savior's wardrobe scrubbed clean of her original culture and preferences#replaced with the foreign garments of her captor's nations.....in line with this. i love how her kokoshnik and khaenri'ahn earrings are big#and attention-grabbing. you can't look at her without taking note of those accessories. it begs the question:: how many times has savior#looked at the mirror after being dressed up in snezhnaya and was unable to recognize her own reflection?? :'>#also shoutout to some details aine shared with me: 1) the face marks are inspired by weeping angels 2) the kokoshnik was traditionally worn#by married noblewomen BUT the veil was normally for unmarried women so savior's outfit can be seen as a form of compliance + rebellion#(though later on in history it became accepted for married women to also wear that veil. also my apologies if what i said is inaccurate)#lastly shoutout to savior's expression!! very poised and mysterious....due to her emotional state or pierro's rules on how to act as his#spouse in public?? we'll never know~ the first drawing hits even harder when you compare it to the next one!! such an interesting contrast~#savior in her plain attire. casual and domestic with a smile on her face....i'm guessing this is her pre-fatui version?? she looks so warm#and friendly. and i can definitely understand why pierro fell for her smile <3#also i fucking love the caption. sorry pierro but you are cursed to be a loser/ simp/ pathetic man in all of my fics and AUs xD#NOW ONTO GODDESS! SAVIOR AAAHHHH!! i love the greek goddess motifs. she looks so regal and awe-inspiring but in a different way from her#snezhnayan attire--archaic. divine. and more suited to her personal style.....yet both versions of her look so painfully isolated :'>#her blank eyes. emotionless face. and veil give me the vibes of a spooky victorian ghost...or would a statue/ portrait be more fitting??#the lack of a necklace is also an interesting design choice given what happens in the fic. and now i realized i forgot to comment on your#version of her snezhnayan necklace oops. similar to the kokoshnik and earrings. the size + grandeur makes it impossible to ignore#that and big jewels = expensive af. ohhh and i love the sparkles on her veil!! pierro rlly spared no expense in dressing up his wifey <3#it's also funny how all of these outfits are similar to my own version in terms of 'savior wore grand clothing during her glory days as a#goddess -> wore simple attire after her decline for practicality and to blend in with humans/ disassociate from her old identity -> is now#dressed in even grander clothing as the harbinger's spouse. but it's used to reinforce her new identity and pierro's control over her'#tldr:: your design is so creative and i can see the effort you put in analyzing her character and depicting her based on your interpretatio#thank you for being my mutual + reader and i hope we can share even more harbinger/darling brainrot in the future :>
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transannabeth · 22 days
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hi. for people who saw gatsby: an american myth. do you remember mckee asking nick for lunch. and then gatsby in like the next scene inviting nick for lunch. because i remember.
#not pjo#chitter chatter#when gatsby was like 'we should do lunch' i was like. hello. fucking. hello. are we. hello.#gatsby really said we just met literally 5 minutes ago. come meet my father figure. normal normal thing to do jay.#to be clear gatsby also asks him to go to lunch in the book. but like. there's a time skip. and also#in the show after mckee asks they immediately start making out on the couch. none of this ... nonsense#so the vibes are a LITTLE different in my brain.#i saw a few people say they didnt think gatsby and nick flirted enough and like while i do think that think part of it is we're#in nick's pov but not his HEAD#he DOES start singing about gatsby's smile for no reason until jordon is like. alright buddy. lets talk about daisy.#like nick was just Doing That. pull it together carraway.#but i got the vibe (JUST my take) that gatsby was like. kinda into nick. zero reason to be leaning into his space like that sir.#however when he actually MET daisy again he became kinda singularly focused on her again#i mean he built his whole lifeup to this moment#he says it at the end. he murdered pieces of himself to bring himself here. for DAISY.#him snapping back to daisy mode makes sense to me but he still reaches out for nick as a comfort in the sense that hes like#nick do NOT leave please stay with us. daisy does the same. and ofc part is that theyre really. fucking awkward. but like.#LET ME HAVE MY OWN NONSENSE INTERPRETATIONS. HES TRAPPED BY WHITENESS AND CLASS AND HETEROSEXUALITY.#hes already so much of an outsider trying to fit in. (i also think he loves daisy or an ideal at least. and she's EASIER to love. safer.)#nick inherently has more freedom even as a gay man in the sense that hes richer and white and an ivy league dude i mean you understand righ#right????????#even if its in the book i do wanna point out the parallels between those moments. im choosing to see it as deeply intentional <3#this show had a lot of repetition and parallels (see daisy and myrtle in a lot of songs and scenes)#(one i LOVE is tom giving myrtle a necklace and daisy later giving TOM her necklace in case he sees anyone he knows. idk love that shit)#im...gonna queue this#im embarrassed to talk about this show so much. so. into the queue it goes!!!#all the worlds a stage#so like. anyway. thats where i think nick's mind immediately went when gastsby asked him for lunch. personal headcanon <3#gatsby after one convo: we're doing lunch // me and nick immediately: oh ok! guess that's a date then!
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Just finished the show a few days ago, so that's why I'm only just posting this now.
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#also yes PB is problimatic but so are a lot of the other characters & i don't care#lady reinacorn would probably be higher in her category if i understood what she was saying but unfortunately i don't#tier list#adventure time#adventure time tier list#magic man is where he is because he became normal man otherwise he'd be in the last category#cinnamon bun is only where he is due to his character growth in the flame kingdom before that he would have been in the meh category#lsp is where she is coz i actually find her funny#hope tier 3 lemongrab is meant to be the 3rd version because I like him the best out of all the lemongrabs#sweet pea wasn't on there but i would probably put him before or after fern#root beer guy is only where he is because I like what they did with him when he got resurrected#speaking of which cherry sods should be on here to & if she was I'd probably place her before him#as her reaction to his death & resurrection was super interesting#just realised that starchy isn't on here either i think I'd place him before mr pig#on reflection I'd put the cosmic owl in the 3rd category after prismo#i haven't watched distant lands or fiona & cake yet so please no spoilers#tiffany is where he is because i find him funny even though he is always hating on my boy finn#upon reflection I actually find amo quite interesting (still annoying though)#with his desperate need to be loved without the ability to give it in return#& how no amount of affection would probably ever have been enough#like talk about depressing#on second thought i'd actually put Grob/Gob/Glob Grod in the cool powers but lack of personality category#ash actually belongs in the worst category coz how he gonna do my girl marcy like that#& Jake's alien dad should actually be in the crazy threat category#coz he straight up travels to different dimensions to make kids so he can drain them of their powers & then leave them to die#& wanted to do the same to his grandkids like that's some next level evil#recardio should really have is own category as while he is kind of threat (he did kidnap finn & jake & beat up lady that one time)#his just not scary like people in the crazy threat category are (more just creepy/weird/gross & annoying)
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princessmyriad · 4 months
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#personal#i dont really know how to talk about this but i am scared. for myself. not for my system but for me and also for my sys#im primary protector. i am the oldest being in this body by time (not by age). i was one of the first created at the bodys 9month old Thing#ive always had a background almost co-con role. not fully cocon but i contribute to a lot of the blur because im always close enough to#the front to be able to step in as quickly as possible if needed. and to give instructions and warnings to whoevers in front and needing it#the last maybe 2 months? 3? ive taken up a more active hosting role in a cycle with 3 others#im really worried that its been happening so much that its impacting my duties as primary protector. im scared the brain has been#keeping things from me or shutting of knowledge i did have access to to help me adjust to concept of hosting#i cant see the inner as clearly as i could. i know my girlfriends in there somewhere but reaching out only has like a 12% chance of#getting through when ive spent the last 14 years almost living on top of her as she was the old host.#it feels rough and scary. like i know shes in there i think our gatekeep would tell me if she became dormant even if i was full host so i#i have to belive shes alright in there but i do miss her so bad. i want to know shes okay. i want to hold her#im mostly worried about losing more access to information i used to have and diminishing my use in my protector role as a result#i dont want to be a host. i need to feel like i can talk to my guys and gals and pals with the clarity and communication weve spent the last#4 years building. i feel there are more capable than me to replace me and allow me to step back and resume background-host/protector stuff#they are untrained and unfamiliar with our life but theyre not trauma holders. what do they call those? normal parts? dont like that languag#but they dont have the trauma related issues that some olthers/old hosts do and can be trained in the running of the life#we dont work we dont really leave the house due to agoraphobia so we have the time and space to train a new host#idk what to do#idk where this went i guess this is venting you can ignore it#but i guess the solution is to talk to the one cohost i can still talk with and see if they can do some hiring for me#get them to head in and see if the brain will cooperate to bring someone else out to take my host spot soon#or make one but thats not ideal id prefer to avoid that if we can. but i can feel myself reaching my limits for this#somethings gotta give soon either way#system#although we already have 3 other hosts in roster and several alters created specifically for that hanging out inside too so maybe#maybe things wont crumble if i just decide to step back on my own. if i can. harder to step back when i cant access inner but maybe if i can#then we will survive with the 3
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euniexenoblade · 7 months
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since we're talking about call outs lately, i've been called out many times, most of which are made from lies and sometimes by altering screenshots, but the most effective call out i ever got was like, in early 2015 there was a tumblr user everyone knew was a terf, but she would say "actually i support trans women" this was before crypto terfs were as talked about so the language wasn't really there to say "hey this person is a crypto terf." but yeah some people put posts of this woman on my dash and i made a random post on my blog "why do yall reblog her shes a terf" and of course she searches her own name daily, found my post, and replied to it that me calling her a terf was racist. that was it. no other interaction. but she went on all night talking about me being racist and just making things up as she went "oh i bet she says the n word all the time irl" kind of shit that had, like no basis? But her follower base took it 100% and i literally had thousands of anons telling me to kill myself, trying to goad me into being racist (didnt work), and the most concerning thing was i got hundreds of anons being like "what was the point of doing hrt if you still look like that, you should kill yourself." It was like, violent and overwhelming. and on top of it I'd get random young teenager trans people who followed her and bought into her bioessentialism showing up in my messages being like "you give trans people a bad name" "you're why transphobia exists" etc etc it was fucking crazy.
but i lost like, no followers because everyone around me understood, this woman was a terf. this all set up the real one though.
later in the year a teenage "communist" trans girl made some snarky comment about me being racist on a post of mine blowing up. i ignored her cuz like, who cares it's just some random teenager. but i guess people were looking for a reason to hate me cuz that blew up, lots of people just took that at face value no need to investigate. when someone finally did send the girl an ask being like "hey how is she racist" she replied "I dont remember but I know she is" and even more people just took this as 100%. the thing is, i do remember her being one of those "you make trans people look bad" terf following young trans people, it's not that she didn't remember, it's that she didnt want to admit she followed a terf and she believed a terf just saying shit. I lost like 3/4s of my followers, i had a lot of people i thought were my friends just stop talking to me, and going forward every time i got a call out there would usually be a line of like "also she's racist, everyone already knows this" all cuz this girl needed to make a snarky comment cuz she just loves terfs.
the thing about the "i dont remember" bit is it made some weird game of telephone. "I dont remember" became "oh she's racist, i think she says the n word" which became "she called black bloggers the n word" like people just made shit up about me and connected it to this call out. and when id be like this isnt true id be met with a "this is just known, youre a known racist" and it's like, to this day i will still find people be like "hey good on you for growing as a person and not doing that any more" and its like I NEVER DID IT TO BEGIN WITH
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torpublishinggroup · 7 months
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"Warning Signs Your Machines Are Trying to Kill You!" by TJ Klune
(Legally, I’m required to tell you that when smart phones first became popular, I bought one and then asked for the address of the app store because I thought it was a physical location I had to go to in order to download apps and not something already on your phone. Also, I was recently told I speak like an old person so as a warning, there will not be any slang you youths typically hear, especially on Tumblr. Any slang I’ve learned in the last five years has been against my will. I still don’t know what FOMO means, and I don’t care.)
1. Oh no! You and your family are trying to enjoy a movie night, but Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) wants a sacrifice at the altar of their god, BeeZos. Should this happen, do not attempt to give Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) a cantaloupe with googly-eyes on it and say that it is your baby. Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) knows the difference between fruit and children. Instead, ask the machine to order dog food, and it will forget about eating humans for a little while.
2. If you own a very fancy vehicle that can drive itself, always make sure to carry a brick. That way, when the car locks you inside and attempts to drive you off a cliff into a gas station, you can break the window using the brick. You will then have to jump out, but make sure you do so in time so you can watch the wicked-ass explosion when the car hits the gas station, and you can revel in your victory over your car.
3. This one will hurt. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Chances are, you’re reading this on your phone right this second. To be safe, after you’ve finished reading this post and have clicked on the affiliated links to purchase my books, you should throw your phone into a volcano and then move to South Dakota where there are no machines, only wind and cows. That way, when everyone else gets the 5GZombieVirus that people on Twitter (I’m not calling it the other thing, shut up) seem to think is real, you’ll be safe with your cows on a windy day.
4. Get rid of your air fryer. Don’t ask me why, just do it. Red flags all around. Danger, danger.
5. Do you know of the Clapper? That thing first launched in the late 20th century (I wrote it that way to make me feel old) where the commercials showed cranky old people unable to reach their light switches, so they got a thing called a Clapper that turns your lights on and off when you clap? Guess what? Those will be the first things to try and kill you. If you love your gram-gram, save her from the Clapper. When she asks why you are destroying it with an ax, tell gram-gram it’s because you love her.
6. Do you live in a smart home? The kind where everything is connected to the internet, including your refrigerator? The refrigerator that holds your perishable foods? And oh, would you look at that: how many ice cubes have you kicked under it rather than picking them up when they fall to the floor? A dozen? A million? The refrigerator remembers. And it will spoil your food in seconds. What then? What are you going to eat? Canned food? Not if the refrigerator falls on top of you!
Unfortunately for you, this is where it must end. I hope this has given you enough information to help you survive the inevitable. If you do not heed my warnings, well. Who cares. I’m not in charge of you. Do whatever you want. Just don’t come complaining to me when gram-gram gets the clap.
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divinesolas · 6 months
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Plagued by you
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r.q: requesting this please, alicent's daughter x jacaerys… and an angry confession.. "I burn for you." type ❤️😭 like he wants to her to come with him and be team black.
c.w: Otto doesn't go to Dragonstone you do; alicents daughter!reader, minor angst, dialogue heavy, reader “hates” jacaerys, hints of rhaelicent, not proofread
w.c: 1.6k (finally a shorter jace fic…)
a.n: anthony bridgerton ass confession lmaoo, hope you all enjoy :3
part two part three
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You were currently pacing back and forth in the room rhaenyra allowed you to stay in on Dragonstone. You had come to see her, to ask her to declare for Aegon. She had obviously argued back and forth with you, up until nightfall where she said she would retreat for the night and the two of you could finish this tomorrow in the morning before you flew back in the morning. You argued that you would leave right then but only to find out that it had begun to storm so heavily. Realizing you would not be able to travel anywhere in this weather you reluctantly agreed and here you were.
In truth you did not want to come here. You had begged your mother to send someone else to anyone else but she was instant it be you. 
“Mother, why not send grandsire? He will be a much better negotiator than me.” she fiddles with your cloak, a far away look on her face before she moves to cup your face.
“Rhaenyra certainly likes you more than she likes him. She will treat you kindly.”
“She will say no mother you know this.” 
She lets out a trembled sigh and grips your face tightly in her hands and presses her forehead against yours “If not for his sake you must try, for me. For my sake I do not wish for this to go to. To see her harmed.” 
You've always known your mother has a very complicated relationship with rhaenyra if you can even call it that. She hated her, or at least that's what it seemed to be. 
She turns and grabs your bag before giving you a knowing look. 
“And I know you also have some unresolved things, do not deny it. I can recognize that look on your face. You must let these things go. Lest you end up like me.” 
You feel sick at the idea of Him. You hate jacaerys velaryon. Him and his stupid pride, his stupid face. His stupid everything. You have never hated anyone the way you hate him. You never understood how much a person could hate someone seemingly as much as your mother seemed to hate rhaenyra. The way she seemed to be all she could talk and even think about, going on endless rants to the point you felt you knew more about rhaenyra than your own mother. Until you met him. Now though you understood her completely, when you were no more than six jacaerys became the target of your anger.
Due to his torment of your twin brother aemond you quickly began to hate him. You would spend all your free time thinking of him and how to get back at him. The two of you always bickered and argued, when you would look over at him he was always already glaring at you. 
You were more than relieved he and his family were leaving after the incident at driftmark, but there was a part of you that when your days dragged on you began to miss him. Tormenting him of course there was no way you actually wished to spend time with him, there was no way…. Definitely not.
You haven't seen him during your time here. You would think he would be in the room where you were negotiating but he was nowhere to be seen. You did not want to ask about him, though the question has been on the tip of your tongue.
Suddenly there was some aggressive knocking on your door and you froze, turning towards it holding your breath. “Who is it?” there's no answer but you know exactly who it is and hesitant for a moment contemplating if you should even let him in. You end up swiftly making your way towards the door and opening it just a bit, planning on telling him to just go away but before you can say anything he's pushing his way into the room storming past you with an angry look on his way. You lean against the door to support yourself as you feel lightheaded just looking at him. 
“You are an absolutely ridiculous woman.” you do not speak, unable to, only able to watch as he runs his hand through his curls and paces in the room just as you had been. “Do you only wish to torment me?”
“I am here for my brother-” “You should not have come.” there's a venom in his voice and he does not even look at you. You find yourself growing more annoyed at him. “I do not care what you think. I would be gone by now if your mother had not been so stubborn-” he turns to look at you and makes his way to stand right in front of you, barely any space between the two of you. “Jacaerys…” “you do not want your brother to sit the throne.” it was true, as much as you tolerated your brother, the thought of him sitting on the throne disgusted you. He would not be a good king, “you know not of what i believe.” “I know this is true, you shouldn't lie to me.” 
“You act as if you know me.”
He scoffs, turning his head away from you for a moment before looking you dead in the eyes, so close you can feel his breath on your face. “I don't know you? I know that you hate the summer because you get too hot in your long dresses, i know you love whenever the chefs make cake and you would sneak into the kitchen to grab a slice, i know you despise your mothers perfume because it hurts your nose but you could never tell her such a thing because it brings her comfort,” he pauses for a moment moving somehow even closer to you, pressing his forehead against yours and closing his eyes, “i know when you are lying you scrunch up your nose,” he moves his head to your neck and takes a deep breath of your scent before lifting his head back up and his forehead is against yours once more. “And worst of all I know you desire me as I do you.” 
You shake your head as you suppress a whimper from your neck, “no,,,” “you will not deny it. You will not deny something I know to be true with every bone in my body with every drop of blood in my body.”  
With a long silence between you, neither of you saying a word he pushes away from you and goes back to standing where he was, that angry look back on his face. “You must go.” you look outside and notice that the storm has since stopped, your brain is currently running a mile a minute barely able to think. “I shall head back to the keep-” “that is not far enough!” 
He grips his head in frustration as he begins to pace once more, “you could travel to dorne, to essos to bravos and it would not be far enough to free me from this torment you have put me through, For the thoughts of you that plague my mind to cease to exist. Even after I pass I am sure when I am faded to nothing but bones and ashes the picture of you will be laced where my heart should be.” 
He quickly moves back over to you and cups your face once more bringing himself so explicitly close to you he should be kissing you. The way you two are pressed against each other is more intimate than a kiss, more romantic than any confession. You lose yourself in the heat of the moment, unable to control yourself for a while. You want to kiss him, you want him to kiss you. Before you regain the small sense of control you have to push him away from you shaking your head. “I must go home, my mother-” “Stay here. Stay with me.” He stares into you a way nobody else ever has, like he's truly trying to see you and not the facade you put on for everyone else. “My mind, body and soul yearns and burns for you uncontrollably and now that you stand in front of me I cannot take it.” He takes your hand and presses it against his heart where you can feel it being erratically as yours was as well. “Tell me you do not want me and I shall turn my back and allow you to leave. But do not beg me to watch you as I fear my heart cannot take it.” 
He takes another step closer to you and does not break eye contact with you. “Tell me you do not desire me and tell me at once my love, my heart please you must.” 
You shake your head as tears begin to form in your eyes, “I cannot.” “then stay.” you angle your head and kiss him, praying that through your actions he can too understand that you indeed burn for him the way he burns for you. You decide in the moment to say fuck it. Fuck your mother, fuck your brother, fuck the crown and screw everyone and everything else that is not him because you hate him so much that he has fully consumed every part of you like a parasite. Yet you have done the same to him. 
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sukunas-wife · 5 months
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What about Y/N and reader having a little baby girl. Sukuna was disappointed at first because he wanted another boy. But she becomes so attached to her papa since she was a baby. Like she sees cuts on his hands (she doesn’t realize he can use RCT yet) and tries to treat his wounds 🥺🫶🏽
~🪽
I though tumblr ate your ask when I scrolled 5 times and could find it and I panicked so hard 😭 So cute 🥺 Im pretty sure we’re going with Anya, but I suck at catching her personality so I’m just going to go with general daughter reactions for this 🥹🤍🤍
(Note: I tried, but I feel like I’m always lacking in the daughter area. Maybe I need to borrow my niece ;-; also, its a little short…) finally back into it tho 😎
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Your room fell silent, the cries filling the air were almost piercing. You felt like you knew this was bound to happen. Yuji was a miracle, but your second child was born a girl. You knew Sukuna had only ever cared about having heirs, so in the silence you were on edge of what he would say or do.
It was strange watching him in that moment, she was crying in his arms, he was staring at her with that black expression that always appeared like a frown. He shouldn’t have been so openly disappointed, he knew from the start when your stomach started to swell and he hadn’t noticed until he touched your round belly. The child in your stomach had not an ounce of cursed energy to leave a presence, much less for him to be able to tell what it could be. Yet he held out hope for a boy, even if the lack of his presence was due to a heavenly restriction, he could work with that. But no, the little pink haired girl crying and screaming in his arms was enough to leave him perplexed. He shook his head, handing her over to you, you watched him while you began to breastfeed your daughter.
“Sukuna..” your voice was a whisper followed by a cringe of feeling like your insides were coming out. You wanted to comfort your husband but you didn’t feel right. “Sukuna,” your lower stomach kicked in painful cramps, and everything moved in a rush. Sukuna was pushed out of the room and heard the panic of your caretakers clearly.
—- —- —- —- —-
The day had passed and he sat outside your room, they had persisted he did not pass. So he sat out there waiting until the early hours of sunrise when they brought out his daughter. He took her in his hands, you couldn’t see it past her pink hair and eyes, but to Sukuna she had your face. She was small and round but to him, she looked so similar he was in disbelief you had won over that part of his genes.
He sat there all day, holding her to his chest, while his head leaned back against the wall. His eyes were closed but he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t rest, he could tell you were alive, but it felt like you were just barely there. He looked down in his arms, the little bundle of clothes moving around slightly as your daughter moved, crying out. He wanted to hand it off to a servant as his hand came up to uncover her face more to look at her, that was until her hand slipped out taking a tight hold of finger. She stopped crying for a moment just sniffling, her little nails falling digging into his skin. “Come, stop your crying.” His free arm came to lightly run over his little wrinkly cheeks, “my child.” He was looking at her with such a soft look, the servants found it endearing. It was then he decided he would take care of her as he did Yuji, his child, his pride.
—- —- —- —- —-
Years passed, and you were outside with Yuji. Watching Anya’s big eyes growing in size as an emperor butterfly slowly fluttered around the garden. It had been a month since Sukuna had left on one of his little excursions, you were curious why his supposed two week trip became a month long trip. But you had your 13 year old Yuji who was laying in your lap passed out from his own Ventures of the day and your 3 year old girl keeping you busy, you didn’t feel as lonely as when it was just yourself. “Mama!” Your hand kept running though Yuji’s hair, “Yes sweetheart?” Your little girl came running up to you, “Papa!” You could see the stars in her eyes as she pointed behind her, past the garden. You looked seeing the all too familiar and burly silhouette in the distance. You faked a gasp, “It is papa! He’s almost home. Do you wanna go get him the sweets you made?” She perked up more, “Yeah!” You watched as she ran off inside the house singing a song as her steps padded on the ground. Yuji slowly sat up, eyes squinty as he looked around “Dad?” You laughed while rubbing his head, “Yes.”
You started to get up, Yuji rushing up and offering to help you as you struggled to get up, “my leg is tired from being in one place too long.” You laughed and Yuji grinned, “Sorry’ was tired.”
You simply rubbed his head, “It’s fine, go get your sister, she’s been away for a while already.”
Yuji ran off to find his sister while you tried to ignore the feeling in your legs. You moved closer to the edge of the garden Sukuna was approaching in fresh blood, the closer he became the more you noticed the minor scrapes and cuts on his body. You rolled your eyes with a smile, he shrugged off the top of his robes once he had realised your eyes were trained on his body. It would be a lie to say you didn’t find him attractive in this form of glory, but for the sake of your kids you wouldn’t touch his chest and give him that look. It was when he stood in front of you that your dominant hand pulled your handkerchief from your obi, your free hand cradling his face before cleaning his face of the foreign contaminant.
“I see my husband is home, sturdy, well and revelling in his victories.” You hummed as you finished cleaning his face, pulling him towards you gently so you could kiss him. As you pulled away from what was going to be a soft kiss he pulled you back in to catch your lips longer, “Mhm.” Was all
He hummed against your lips, aside from the hand on your head, two of his free hands came to your waist to pull you closer. Placing your hands on his chest you pushed yourself back a little to stare up at him, “Your little girl has been asking and crying for you to come back. She even made you a little treat everyday for when you arrived.” He hummed, eyeing you, your hands moving to rest on his biceps, “They should be here. I sent her in to retrieve what she worked so hard on.” Your head turned exposing your neck to him, his last free hand coming up to run his nails over the tender flesh, “I’m sure she’ll be back soon enough, as for now I’m craving the feeling of something else.” His hand angled your head away, teeth and lips running over the plush pulse point on your neck, until he huffed at your resistance, “how impervious.” He pulled away, hands sliding from your waist as he looked away visibly upset. You couldn’t fight the smile, “We should go, it might be a waste waiting longer out here then if we go find them.”
—- —- —- —- —-
That’s how you ended up in this situation. Yuji was sitting by his dad with a big smile listening to the story of how he single-handedly levelled another city. Anya was sitting on his lap bouncing along as his body shook when he’d let out a louder laugh or was jostled around with his movements. That was until she noticed the smallest cut on his stomach and let out a loud gasp making all of you turn to look at her.
”Papa! You’re hurt!” Sukuna looked down, seeing the small surface wound that left a red line of broken skin over his side stomach. “Oh, I suppose I a-PAPA NEEDS BANDAGES” she was rushing off feet pattering over the floor as Yuji mumbled, “But.. can’t dad use reverse cursed technique…” he looked confused as he closed his eyes tilting his head to the side. You looked at your husband who sighed with a faint twitch at his lips and placed a hand on Yuji’s head messing up his already tousled hair. “Interesting, I remember another brat with pink hair who did the exact same thing.” Yuji smiled under the weight of his fathers hand.
Anya came running in with a bowl of water spilling everywhere and other things tucked under her little arm. You watched as Ryomen steadied her after she spilt water onto his lap trying to clean his wounds as she had watched you done when your husband would crave your attention and purposely not heal his own wounds leaving you to tend to him. He cringed as more water spilt onto his lap as she un purposely smacked his stomach with a soaking rag rubbing at the small flesh wound, Yuji tried not to laugh as you laughed quietly behind your hand watching as Sukuna tried to help only for Anya to yell at him “No! I can do it papa! You’re hurt!”
The screen was cute as he cringed more at the cold water, relieved when she stopped only to become stressed when she pulled out the roll of wraps. She had seen you use those wraps on Yuji many times when he would become injured or hurt. What she didn’t see was how her father was much larger in size, those tiny wraps wouldn't circle his waist even once.
When they couldn't, Anya became frantic, rushing to jump off her father and run to get more bandages. This was until Ryomen caught her mid jump, “Lemme go daddy! Need more wraps!” He sat her back on his lap, “No you don’t brat, I'll show you something better.”
Anya looked up at her dad with glossy eyes and a wobbly lip, “Press your hands here.” You watched as he guided her small hands to his stomach over the wrap, “Put all your force behind it.” She forced her eyes closed, pressing both her hands against his stomach with all her little muscle. Using the slightest bit of his reversed cursed technique he pulled her hands away, “See.” Her eyes opened slowly and the red mark on his stomach was gone. Her eyes lit up as she looked up at him, “I DID IT!” Ryomen couldn’t fight back the twitch of his lips that pulled into a smile, “You did.” Her hands clasped together with starry eyes, her stare locked on Yuji, “I can fix you.”
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Tag List: @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd @shytastemakerthing @alialucille @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @sakunawifey @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks
@bofadeezs
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sayruq · 1 month
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Hi world, it’s Eman Please read this as if I’m a member of your family, may be your sister , daughter or a friend and as if my family who’s under death now is yours.Today, I reach out with a heavy heart and a place for your kindness and support . I am not just seeking to fundraise. I am seeking to save the lives of my beloved family members who are currently trapped in a nightmare. All of whom depend on your generosity to escape Gaza Strip to Egypt , get the medical help needed and begin a new life where we are seeking safety. This is me Eman
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My name is Eman , a girl in her thirties (39- years old) and a computer science graduate .Iam speaking from the heart of Gaza, a place that was once vibrant with life and has now become painfully marked by the effects of wars that spared no war. I live with my mother, Etemad (60 years old ) and my father, Saed (70 years old . My mother and my father
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My sister Khaleda is ( 41 years old ) She has four children. Three sons .Saed ,3 years old. Abdul Rahman, 5 years old ,and Adam, 9 years old .Her daughter, Lyan, is (4 years old) .
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Khaleda's Children
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Iam suffering of one of the most common generic disorders which is thalassaemia. It’s so tiring and difficult disease. And due to the war, I lack medical care and treatments. My health is getting worse and deteriorating as treatment became insufficient. Iam in need to plasma exchange regularly ,the thing that my family find so difficult because of blockage and destruction of hospitals , in addition to the risks of going out our shelters every day as the bombs everywhere . My family deserve the opportunity to live a full life. I can’t bear the thought of losing any member of them.
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My father, Saed, is suffering from heart disease .He has blockage of the heart arteries . Doctors advised him not to expose himself to the news and events that affect his mental and physical health. He urgently needs to undergo the necessary tests and surgery.
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My mother, Etemad, has chronic diseases (blood pressure and diabetes ) . She needs regular follow up and medical treatment .She is struggling to obtain the necessary medications , waiting too long in clinics for subpar alternatives if found.
My family and I were very close knit enjoying simple pleasure and cherishing moment together. Now all that remains are memories scattered among the rubble of our destroyed home in Gaza. We witnessed death with our own eyes and were forced to flee our home in fear of our lives .During this time , we also received the news of the deaths of several relatives and friends due to indiscriminate bombardments. Now, I find Myself with my family displaced in a plastic tent in Al-Zawaydah , our last refuge, living inhuman conditions and enduring unimaginable hardships along the way.
We’re currently sleeping on the ground in a tent that does not protect us from the heat of summer or the cold of winter . We are located there ,with no access to essential items like clean drinking water , electricity , healthy food and cooking gas .Death and destruction followed us everywhere , Our home was bombed and bulldozed and our hopes and dreams were shattered along with it .We are enduring a suffering that is beyond anything you can imagine. Me with my family are in a very critical situation in tents .Tasks are divided among us to sustain ourselves. My father fetches water if ever found from a distant area early every morning. My mother cooks and washes our clothes using traditional methods .This is why we are asking for your help, as we are still in danger in South Gaza and can’t receive the medical care needed. Our new life in tents
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Since the beginning of Israel’s assault on Gaza, we were forced to evacuate several times leaving behind our home and the future we had been working towards. Walking without carrying our personal belongings, our clothes or even money in search of a safe place until we managed to escape to the south of Gaza Strip .
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Gaza, a place that I call home has been transformed into a landscape of destructions and despair . The reality we live in is one of the constant fear, where the sounds of explosions drown out the dreams and aspirations of its people .In what seems like an instant , everything my family and I held there had been ripped away by the chaos of war . A side of our suffering in tents
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This campaign is not just about escaping Gaza. It’s about reclaiming a future where my family can live without the shadow of fear , where we can get the medical care and treatment needed and where we can once again embrace the joys of life without grief . The price of leaving Gaza is high and far beyond my family means. so I have initiated this fundraising campaign to urgently gather funds to help my family leave Gaza as soon as possible. The funds collected will be carefully allocated for the following purposes: Firstly , it will contribute to providing a safe passage to Egypt , which is a vital step for the family’s safety. Secondly: covering the medical treatment. Costs and medications for me , my father and my mother . In addition to the need for comprehensive examinations in Egypt to ensure our safety after the war. Thirdly : the funds will be allocated to provide temporary accommodation for the family in Egypt, giving them stability and the opportunity to explore the best path for their future . Finally , it will cover initial living expenses in Egypt granting the family the time and space needed to relax and rebuild their lives after the ordeal of the genocide in Gaza .
Eman's family has only raised $610 USD out of $50,000 goal. Please support the family by sharing. Donate if you can
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plutoswritingplanet · 7 months
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It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt.3
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a/n: so i lied about this being the last chapter, there's one more, i know im sorry....... also shout out to my friends, who were unbelievably helpful with the smut part because oh, there's smut here
Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (yuuuh yuuuuuuh), Alcohol, like....a tiny bit of Humiliation.
Summary: The month-long courting comes to an end with a bang! As your engagement party commences, wine flows and darker feelings rise to the surface
Pt. 1, Pt.2 Pt.4 (finale)
In the darkness of the night, he still comes to you in your dreams, knife in hand, body taunt and ready to strike. Every single morning, you awake with a gasp, as visions of your tormentor plague you. In some, he slits your throat, reveling in the way red cascades down your nightgown. Other times, it's a quick and brutal stabbing, your insides twisting as you wake. 
But then, there are those rare nights where you rise from your bed, sweat clinging to your skin, as you fight with the pressure in your stomach, try to rid yourself of the images, before making yourself presentable for breakfast. 
Those dreams, nightmares, are the worst. 
White, elegant fingers, grabbing, pulling, pinching every surface of your exposed skin. Defined arms around you, squeezing your pliant body in an embrace that is as tender and romantic, as a snake suffocating its victim. Deceivingly soft lips, mapping a trail down your front, pulling back to reveal teeth, which make that same trail visible, hurting.
In those dreams, he paints you with black. Taints you, until you're molded into his perverse image, until there's no telling where he ends, and you begin. He makes you into a sculpture, in a way that an artist cuts away pieces of clay, slowly robbing you of all agency, until there's only what he wants to see. And you let him, with a trembling smile on your lips, hands twisted into the stained sheets of your bed. 
Ignoring him has become an art form as well.
Since your faithful tangle at the training barracks, you did everything in your power, to never appear in the same room as him, or at least, never alone. You became a shadow in your own home, a whisper of the person you used to be. Shame is a powerful thing, and you wore it like a wedding veil over your face. Paul would always help you, silently. Never asking outright what had happened between you and the Harkonnen, but somehow always knowing. Your brother, your salvation, breaks your heart everytime he grabs your hand, and leads you away from the predator in the room.
The date of your engagement party has been set a week into the future. The nervous bustling of the court only heightening your already wracked thoughts, as the inevitability of your situation begins to haul you to the ground. 
Your Mother took most of the preparations on her back, directing the servants, the kitchen, the musicians. She picked out a dress for you, some flowing abomination, which hung in your closet, reminding you every morning, that you will have to wear it with a smile. You hoped, there will be wine at the feast, hope that it will be sweet enough to dull your insides. 
As the date of the feast comes closer and closer, you begin to spend more time outside. 
The air is crisp and smells of seawater, and you can't help but inhale fully, every time. You want it seared into your brain, so whenever you're taken away from your home, you can run back to this memory, to the feel of grass under your fingers. 
- You'll catch a cold, if you keep sitting here.
Paul's voice brings you back from your dark thoughts, and you look up, from your spot in the grass. He stands a couple paces back, hands folded behind his back in a manner, that is reminding you of your Father more and more every day. 
- Do you want to join me? - you ask, your lips quirking up into a small smile - Or would you prefer to stand there like a pillar of salt?
Your brother shakes his head, before coming closer and plopping down next to you, his skinny legs stretched out in front of him. The both of you sit in silence for a while, enjoying the breeze ruffling your hair, the smell of ocean and the waves crashing into the cliffs. There are seagulls flying over your heads, and you feel the moisture from the grass seep into your clothing. 
A wistful sigh escapes you, before you can stop it, and you let yourself fall, laying flat on the hill. 
Paul looks down at you, undescribable sadness swimming in his eyes, and an instinct of sister awakes in you, a need to comfort, despite being a wreck yourself. So, you offer him a smile, a tired one, but a smile nonetheless. 
- Do you think we could take the horses for a ride today? - your brother asks with naive hope, his eyes turning to the sea.
- Mother won't allow me to go, she wants me to spend my pondering the proper behavior during the feast - try as you might, you can't hide the bitterness in your voice - Besides, I could fall off and hurt the merchandising. 
Paul's hand finds yours, and he squeezes your fingers tightly. It's hard not to break, in moments like these. When you're forced to remember, you'll most likely never see your family again. 
- If I could do something, anything... - you recognize that feverish note in your brother's voice, it's devoid of reason, impulsive, too much like you.
- But you can't, so you won't.
A frustrated sound escapes his mouth, and he turns back to the sea. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, eyelashes falling heavily on your cheeks. He looks like a Duke, you conclude, and that thought feels strangely comforting. No matter where you'll be shipped off, no matter what life has in store for you in the future, somehow, you know your brother will persevere. 
- Do you remember that time Gurney made us train on the beach? - you ask, a sudden wave of nostalgia washing over you, as the clouds float in the sky above you - Cause of the... The balance. We had to try to balance in the sand.
Paul twists his head towards you, surprised at the turn of the conversation, before cracking a smile. 
- Yes, he slipped on the rocks, nearly broke his backbone - he starts to wave his hands around in a wonderful reenactment of your mentor's fall, before collapsing next to you in the grass.
Your laughter mingles with the sounds of the sea, as the both of you, the future of House Atriedes, share memories, scenes from the life you've lived together. The good and the bad. The horse races through plains and hills of Caladan, the many, many food fights. It's hard to tell, how much time you spend together, laying in the grass, but when you finally fall into silence, the air has become considerably more chilly. A sign, it's time to return to reality, to your duties. 
- You should've been me, and I you - Paul whispers suddenly, and you close your eyes in a pained expression. 
Perhaps it's true. Perhaps Lady Jessica made a mistake, and gave a Daughter where she should've given a Son. Now, it's no longer important. Your roles have been set in place, all you could do, is fulfill them. Somewhere back, in the direction of the Palace you can hear a voice calling your names. A reminder, that the world outside this grassy sanctuary exists, and can't wait any longer. 
You move to stand, Paul gathering himself up closely behind. Your clothes stick to your body, and you're shivering from the cold, but if you could spend just one more moment exactly like that, you would've taken that chance without question. 
An arm snakes around your elbow, and you lean onto your brother's shoulder, as you start to walk back, steps swaying like a pair of drunkards. Then, Paul tugs you closer, you can feel him tense suddenly, as he leans with a sullen expression on his pale face.
- I hate the way he looks at you - he confesses, waves upon waves of righteous Atriedes fury crashing in his voice.
You don't know how to respond to that, so you stay silent, giving his arm a reassuring tug.
That was the last conversation you've had with your brother.
*** While the House Atriedes is characterized by a rather mellow temper, there was one thing they took extremely seriously. And those, unfortunately for you, were engagement rituals. 
So, that's why you sit posed like a porcelain doll in a deep chair, next to your soon-to-be husband, at the foot of a long table, surrounded by music, and dancing, and food. There are ribbons hung from the high ceilings, and flickering lights float around them like little fireflies. You watch, as they dance above you, the ridiculous headdress placed on your hair digs into your skul. Color surrounds you, your own dress flowing like a waterfall, elegant, yet delicate. The pools of fabric gather around your legs, a chiffon monstrosity, that you know, is supposed to make you beautiful. 
And perhaps you would've felt beautiful, if this was any other occasion. A birthday feast, perhaps. Dare you say, and engagement party with someone you actually loved. 
Speaking of which, your betrothed sits beside you, sticking out like a sore thumb. He looks utterly bored, eyes following the celebrating masses, hand playing with a steak knife. Not enough blood for his tastes, you suppose. He's dressed in traditional Harkonnen attire, which you think, doesn't really look that much different from all the other outfits you've seen him in. Black, sleek, efficient. You must be a curious pair, a mass of colorful materials and a black-stone pillar. 
The wine, thankfully, is sweet. It warms your face, and turns your insides into a pleasant mush. You should've eaten more, but then again, it was a celebration of your imprisonment, and if you wanted to get drunk, you would. And you did get drunk. Quickly. 
The dress moves with you, as you slowly slide down the chair, one leg resting up on the seat. A frightfully unbecoming sight, but you can't find it in yourself to care. Another, clumsy drink from your cup, and you sigh deeply, blinking a couple of times to rid yourself of sudden dizziness. 
Your betrothed gives you a look, whether it's of warning or amusement, you're not sure. And you don't care. Your nose scrunches in the general direction of his smooth head, and you take another sip, just to spite him.
- Shut up - you grumble, a slurr entering your words.
- I haven't said a word - he counters, and this time you can see him smile.
- You're thinking, it's annoying.
Feyd Rautha has an unpleasant laugh. 
Sharp and low, and very rough around the edges. It's like listening to an old spaceship try to take off, and you're sure you don't want to hear him laugh ever again. That's it, your goal in this, frankly, fucked up marriage, will be to never make your husband laugh. Although, it's best not to think about it so loudly, he might be a hidden mind reader, and would most likely laugh in your face every day, just to torture you. 
God. You were going to regret every sip come tomorrow morning.
- You're wrapped like a present - Feyd Rautha leans down with a smirk playing on his full lips, and you have to crane your neck to look him straight in the face - Shall I unwrap you here, while your family watches?
Despite the light tone, you shiver under his gaze. Something in the way his body seems relaxed yet tense at the same time tells you, this shameless man would do it in a heartbeat, if you as much as inclined your head. 
- Gross - you groan, hand untangling itself from the amassing of chiffon to push back at his face.
It's the first time, you've touched him out of your own volition, and even in your drunken daze, you note the sudden glint in his eyes. Fingers grab at your wrist, keeping you in place, as he leans further into your touch, turning his head slightly. Wine mixes with sudden embarrassment, as his lips brush against the meat of your palm. Then, black teeth shine and your heart jumps to your throat, as he bites down on your skin, hard enough to make you jump. Tongue darts out, licking a stripe up your thumb, before giving your fingertip a tiny nibble.
You tear your hand away from him, pressing it into your chest with an appalled expression. There are indents just below your thumb in the shape of his teeth, and the confounding feelings you've been trying to stoke for almost a month now, come crashing down upon you.
He looks satisfied with himself, returning back to his seat, and his steak knife. The utensil reflects the flowing lights, and despite yourself you swallow thickly, turning back to your cup, which is quickly becoming empty.
God, it was getting incessantly hot in this cursed dining hall. 
Whether it was the wine, or the sudden wave of knee-bending arousal washing through you, you couldn't tell. (It was both, you were fully aware it was both) And you're uncomfortable, terribly so. You fidget in your seat, almost painfully aware of the heat, which has now spread further down. The fabric of the dress slides against your body, skin becoming far too sensitive, too hungry for touch. You try to relieve some of your torment, legs squeezing and rubbing together. Treacherous tongues of self-awareness rear its ugly heads, and you look up, and...
Of course he noticed. 
Feyd Rautha places his chin in his hand, and he observes you with a knowing look, which turns dark and terrifying as soon as your eyes meet.
- Careful, lest the court starts talking - he warns you, his voice somehow becoming deeper than before, and you take a shuddering breath.
Dagnerous, this is dangerous.
 You're seated far away from your family, from any consolation, and even if they were close enough to intervene, the masses of dancing people, the sound of their laughter... Your heart stops, a snake curling itself around your insides. Truly, if that beast of a man wanted to, he could make do of his threat from earlier, and take you where you sit. Haunted by that thought, both terrifying and arousing, you down the rest of your wine. 
It doesn't taste as good anymore. Hell, it threatens to come back up, until you force it to sit in your stomach. 
Duncan, you need to find Duncan, or you'll do something incredibly stupid. You'll do something incredibly stupid either way, but at least the regret will be less biting. So, pulling yourself up on trembling arms, you shuffle out of your chair, your betrothed's heated gaze following you on your way through the hall. 
People don't even look at you, too enraptured with free food and drinks, and the music, which flows loudly through the air. Good, in any other case, the Duke's Daughter, stumbling drunk through corridors, would certainly lift some eyebrows. Your feet carry you towards the training barracks, a familiar route you've followed many times. Indulging in sex with your Father's most trusted advisor was not the healthiest form of regulating emotions, but you needed something, and God knows, you'd rather die than get it from anyone else. From Him especially.
The choice is made for you, however, as a strong hand wraps itself around your arm, just above your elbow, yanking you backwards, behind a stone column. The world spins in front of your eyes, and for a second you worry the company of wine warming your insides is about to abandon you along with breakfast. 
- Do you truly thought, you could sneak away from me?
Finally, your eyes focus on Fey Rautha's face, almost demonic in the low light of the corridor. Shadows play on his expression, falling heavily over his eyes, and you try to wrench yourself from his grasp.
- What I do is none of your business - you slurr out, wringing your arm every which way, his fingers digging painfully into your flesh - Let go of me.
The Harkonnen presses himself closer to you, trapping your body between the stone and himself. His nose nearly crushes itself into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, taking a disturbing long whiff. You can feel his chest vibrate against your own, as he groans deep within his throat. It sobers you up in record speed, and you start to thrash in his hold. He subdues your outburst, as if he was made for it, before dragging his nose up, towards your hair. You snarl like a wild animal.
- Let me go. 
His body moves on its own accord, tearing itself away from you in an instant, legs tripping over themselves, to put distance between your bodies. He looks up at you, muscles tense and an expression of shock painted across his pale face. 
The ability to use the Voice was something you rarely took part in. Training sessions with your Mother went well, as expected of a woman, but you still had a lot of work ahead of you. You blink forcefully, steadying yourself against the wall behind you. Then, you notice the borderline murderous look on your soon-to-be husband's face.
- Witch - he spits out, baring his blackened teeth at you.
- I am the Daughter of Duke Atriedes - your voice carries a note of righteous pride, despite dread climbing up your spine - And you will treat me with respect, wedded or not.
He straightens himself with petrifying speed, and as he takes a step towards you, actions overtake reflection. Your hand winds back, and you bring a resounding slap across his sharp cheekbone. While your palm blooms with pain, he seems to barely react, closing the distance between the two of you after a tense beat. Before you have a chance to react again, his hands grab at your face, and his lips crash against yours in a punishing kiss.
Teeth clink together and the momentum of the kiss makes your head collide with the stone pillar behind you. He's fingers dig into your cheeks and your jaw, as he devours you completely, bringing down all your defences in one swoop. You kiss him back, almost immediately, opening your mouth to let him in, to meet his tongue halfway. It's almost grotesque, how much you hate and love this at the same time, the buzzing of the wine mixing with the sound of your racing heart, with the sound of his unabashed sounds of pleasure. 
Hands flail at your sides, as you grab all you can take, pulling him even closer by the thick fabric of his tunic. 
His hands however, know exactly what they want, and as he lets go of your face, they both sink down. Fingers hook into the neckline of your dress, and he tears it down, your entire body swaying with the force of his movement. Your breasts are freed for only just a moment, cold air hitting them in a way that would be uncomfortable, if they weren't immediately covered by your betrothed's large palm. He palms at your chest, as if he wants to crush it, and you bite back a whine, which threatens to spill from your abused lips. 
- Don't - he growls a warning, unoccupied hand tangling itself within your hair - Sing.
And you do. As his mouth descends upon your neglected breast, where he alternates between licks and bites that make your back fly off the wall. Once again you don't know what to do with your hands, finding them entirely useless in the Harkonnen's overpowering grasp. One, grabs at his shoulder, undecided on whether to push him off, or pull him in closer. The other one scratches four lines into his skull, as he sucks on the sensitive skin under your ribs. 
Finally, he detaches from you completely, standing straight and regarding you with a look so intensely ravenous, it shakes you to your core. Your exposed chest rises and falls in tandem with your heaving breaths, and you shiver, as cold air hits your skin. His gaze drinks in your dissheveled hair, the way your lips are puffy and red. A beautiful sight for his blackened eyes. 
- I know who you went looking for - he starts, stalking towards you once again - Can't have that, can I?
You debate feigning confusion, outrage at such accusation, which hasn't really been uttered yet. But, as Feyd Rautha stops just short of the bottom hem of your dress, you suddenly find yourself unable to speak. Instead, as a last ditched effort to rid yourself of him, your hand extends, a half-hazard attempt at liberation. He swats it away, as one would a mere fly, before sinking to his knees in front of you. 
- Lift up your dress, Viper - his voice is like thunder in your ears, and you bite your lips at the sight of his eyes, dark and surprisingly eager.
Hands move clumsily in an effort to gather all those translucent layers. You nearly trip over yourself, earning a rather nasty chuckle from below. As soon, as your legs are visible, he dives between the chiffon, his head dissapearing from sight. You can feel his lips, traveling up the expanse of your calf, giving a light bite under your knee. 
Anticipation siezes your gut, and you grab onto the wall, as if that would save you. His hands grab your leg, skin incredibly warm to the touch for someone who looks so cold, and then, with forceful tugs, he starts to manouver you. 
You let out an unbecoming squeak, as he yanks your leg over his shoulder. Strong hands keep you in place, and he reaches out around the upper part of your thigh to all but tear your undergarments off of your core. The force of this action makes you jump in place on your one available leg, just to hold your balance, and for a second you consider swatting at him. 
That thought leaves you almost immediately after it appears, as an onslaugh of kitten licks unleashes downward. A vague, head like shape moves under your dress, the chiffon floating from place to place like a hypnotizing river. The wine must've heightened your senses to an alarming degree, because as soon as Feyd Rautha begins his ministrations, you're a mess. 
It's honestly humiliating, the way you fight for any purchase on the wall behind you, as he begins to lick in earnes, parting your legs further with one hand, while the other wraps securely around your used leg. While there, he cops a feel of your behind, fingers biting into the soft flesh, and you lock your lower lip between your teeth so hard, you can taste blood on your tongue.
As if he's developed some new telepathic talents, his hand leaves your ass, in favor of winding up, and slapping it harshly. The action makes your jump in place once again, a sound stuck between outrage and glee fleeing your throat, before you have the chance to stop it. Right, "sing", you remind yourself, and immediately feel him change his tactics. 
Your bundle of nerves opens new possibilities of torment, and as his lips close around the bud, you can't help the whine, escaping through your lips. The music is loud, you remind yourself. They won't hear, no one will hear. His hand pushes your dangling leg further up your shoulder, and your back arches from the stone. You will be sore as all hell after this is done, but for now, it doesn't matter. Nothing really matters, except the way your betrothed eats you out, like a man who's been starved for decades.
- Oh shit - you curse, hands flailing uselessly - Oh fuck!
All of a sudden, everything stops, and your building peak subsides into a dissatisfactory simmer. Feyd Rautha's head emerges from under the fabric, a terrible, shit-eating grin on his wet lips.
- Such language? - he teases, tongue darting out to lap at your arousal - So unbecoming of a-...
- Fucking don't stop! - there's panic in your movements, as you grab the back of his head, and shove him right under your dress again.
The laughter should be unsettling for you, but he returns to his post with twice as much motivation, and however more strength, and before you know it, your orgasm sneaks upon you. A sudden tightness in your core is all the warning you get, before the coil snaps, and your entire body starts to spasm in pleasure. 
It's good. Incredibly so. You'd risk saying it's the most intense you've ever came, but never out loud, never to him. That shameful secret was between you and whatever God that was listening. Stars erupt behind your eyelids, your breathing stopping for just a moment. 
And then you go deliciously limp, legs giving out completely. 
To his credit, the Harkonnen catches you before you hit the floor, the arm curling around your leg proving to be an unmeasurable support. His head emerges from under the dress once again, and he lets you slide down the wall, until you're seated. He sways on the balls of his feet, still towering you, even as he crouches. 
You swallow, throat slightly raw from all the noise you've done moments ago, and he follows the movements of your neck muscles with greedy eyes. Still greedy, after taking so much. Truly, he was a Harkonnen. And before you can stop yourself, a thought materializes in your brain, a treacherous little information, which would shake you to the core, if your muscles weren't currently made of taffy.
He blushes pink. Your betrothed blushes pink, from the exercise of making you cum on his tongue alone. God, what a precious sight.
He must've noticed the serene smile playing upon your lips, and his nature to ruin comes to light. His hand reaches back, and you freeze in your spot, as you recognize that damned golden steak knife. The blade shines in the dimly lit corridor, making your breathing faster, questions swimming behind your eyes. You don't really want to fight him in this state, but you fucking will, if he tries anything. 
- An engagement present, for you, Viper. - he rasps, licking his reddened lips in an obscene display, which doesn't repulse you quite as much as it should. 
- I have nothing to give in return - your voice is stern, and your betrothed flashes you an evil grin.
Then, he presents you the tip of the knife, golden utensil hanging between his slender fingers, and you look up at him, not understanding what is expected of you. Placing one knee on the floor, Feyd Rautha lowers himself to your eye level, for the hundredth of times surprising you with the sheer grace in his movements. 
- Kiss - he whispers, into the space between the both of you.
Your eyes fall to the knife, then, to him and you take a long, deep breath. Pride, your biggest flaw, takes a deadly hit, as the man twists the knife in his fingers, looking at you expectedly. You hate him, truly and deeply, and it must be showing on your face, because he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, as soon as your eyes meet. 
Swallowing your pride, you keep his gaze, leaning towards the blade. Your lips press delicately against the cool metal and the Harkonnen flashes you a nasty, self-satisfied smirk, before slipping the knife up his sleeve and standing up. 
- I'll see you back at the feast - he gives you a small bow, and you press your lips tightly together.
- Fuck you.
- After the wedding, my Viper.
And with that, he turns around.
 You're left there, on the floor, your dignity in shambles, the exertion catching up to you all at once, as if his presence alone was the only thing keeping you from feeling pain. A stupid thought, you chastize yourself, before slowly pulling yourself from the cold tiles. 
It takes you a couple of shameful minutes, trying to put yourself back together again. The ridiculous headdress, which has slipped all the way down from your hair, will probably never look the same, as when your Mother has styled it, but you can't find it in yourself to care. 
The music still plays, as you enter the hall, and thankfully, no one notices your arrival. No one but your betrothed, who raises his drinking cup in your direction, as if nothing had happened. His face is annoying, you conclude, and turn away, your aching legs taking you towards the center of the room, where people danced and sang in celebration of your engagement. What a lovely sight, what a lovely couple. Opposites attract, right?
Bitter, aching and humiliated, you throw yourself into the crowd, let it sway you from place to place, as you dance away this whole wretched week. The whole month-long courting rituals, which were just a bullshit attempt at torture. 
It's said, that when Death comes to take your soul, you're allowed one more dance before the eternal void. 
So you dance. 
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nonomives · 1 year
Text
Hunt vs. Hunted AU
(a.k.a Vampire Wally AU)
Meet the Cast Part 1 || 2 || 3
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Poppy gets her own canvas because im biased--jk
A lil bit of infordump for each character :3
Frank ★ Gargoyle
Frankie boi is a doctor in his eyes. He's labelled a quack and a criminal by many because he practices medicine without a doctor's license, which is illegal. That and several reports of unethical experiments, but mostly because he doesn't have a license.
He met Wally through Barnaby who asked for him to heal the vampire (who was injured at the time) in exchange for shelter and protection from bounty hunters
Julie ★ Demon
Bbg was summoned by a cult who was immediately apprehended by police officials. With no way to go back home, she moved from place to place being a menace to society
She eventually found her way into Wally's Mansion and became their tenant
Sally ★ San Elmo
Okioki so San Elmo is a Philippine mythological creature which is basically just a ball of fire-- anyways, Sally came down to earth to experience the earth life but then became a local deity à la burning person = God
She ended up burning a whole city and Wally, who was there to witness shit go down, decided to take her in because accidental genocide is a "same hat" moment
Poppy ★ Phoenix
Poppy is an angel. She is the definition of perfect, she has no flaws whatsoever-- she's also the last of her kind.
Poppy, alongside Barnaby, was the one to find Wally at his weakest and help nurture him back to health (literally an angel, how can anybody hate her)
Also some extra sketches of Sally + Barnaby
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riaki · 10 months
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OKAY EVERYONE IS SAYING GOJO DOESN'T DESERVE A HAPPY ENDING YES
BuT what if we could make it a little ANGSTY instead?? 👀 He gets his happy ending. His. Happy ending. You? Well.. Old habits die hard. This is what you wanted after all no? So what if he breaks his promises? What if your smile begins to fade? What if
What you said about later on reader and freckles growing apart cause freckles seemed nice it'd be a shame for him to be an ass
But that it's silly cause the irony is what if that freckle boy.. was just like Gojo but in a different light.
Being as it wasn't him who hurt reader, it was easy to overlook the fact of how similar he was to the old Gojo she knew before it became a shit show
Maybe she realizes that
Maybe she starts thinking
Maybe she drifts apart
And maybe Gojo comforts her but he's the last person she wants to see
Because it's these stupid feelings for Gojo that led her to this hell
And Gojo goes again
And he reels her in
And once he has her
Only to see as her smile begins to fade
As all the effort he had put in when he didn't have her start going away once again
And he starts to fall into old habits becoming the same as he was before, but this time, with you at his hand
As he slowly takes away your smiles again.
But it's okay, he'll make it right. Just...later. and later. And later...
You hope.
sorry I'm not good with angst sorry for any cringe 🤣
this is!! such!!! a good!!!! take!!!!!! on hsbully!gojo!!!!!! tbh this ask speaks for itself lol n dw anon! i rlly love the way u brought it :3 this is highschoolbully!gojo part 592727465527 *suggestive!
yeah. freckles boy isn’t that great of a person. maybe he tried but it didn’t work out; u dunno why but u keep seeing gojo in him— hints of satoru in ur life. like that stinky cologne he thinks is kinda cool but rlly doesn’t smell too good on ur bfs drawer, or the way he takes his coffee. honestly, if u squint, it almost seems like freckle boy is tryna copy gojo in a way…? but u don’t like thinkin abt him so u don’t blink an eye.
fast forward u broke up with freckle boy because something or other; the point is, u really didn’t feel anything with him. there might’ve been a spark, but it was really only artificial and had no wind to fan the flames. and since u got together gojo’s been distant; his smile seems dimmer and there’s always this faraway; foggy look that makes the brilliant azure of his eyes seem cloudy gray. but then ur catching up with him again and at some random frat party you get drunk and ur sense is inhibited and— u end up kissing gojo… oops.
so then u kinda enter this fwb state with him. and.. he’s pretty cool, right? he’s kinda evrything u want in a guy— tall, pretty, cool, strong, handsome, charming— it’s a package deal. but there’s also this… rift, between the two of you. see, ever since gojo lost u the first time, he’s always been so scared of pushing u away. so u stay fwb because he doesn’t wanna lose u again in case he’s feelin more than you are. but his heart doesn’t skip a beat when he sleeps with other girls and his chest doesn’t tighten like it does with u when he gets mouthfuls of fruity gloss from kissing other girls. but he forces himself to keep this wall up between the two of u because he just can’t risk losing you a third time.
it sucks for u too, though! gojo’s just a bit too dense to see it. whether it’s in his own nature, or he’s faking it. it’s probably the latter, but that’d mean he’s not being genuine again, n you don’t wanna think about it. but you’re gettin comfy with him and so is he, and you really do whole heartedly believe he’s changed this time, and for good. and it’s true! he has. but not in the way you thought. apparently, he’s exchanged being an ass with an unreachable ego to a pinch more genuine, but still an ass. it’s proved when u get to his apartment one rainy day ready to spend the weekend w/ him for a study date, but there’s clothes on the floor. dresses n stockings and a frilly blouse that you definitely think (or hope) don’t belong to gojo. unfortunately, your suspicions are confirmed when you lay eyes on the tangle of people on his bedroom through the crack in the door— this time, it’s your turn to run in a hurry. turns out, he got comfortable with you— all in the wrong way, thinking it’d be okay to sleep around. except he gives chase— after pulling on a pair of pants, of course.
eventually he catches up to you; you hate those stupidly long legs. catches your wrist and forces you to face him. in front of a chick fil a, nonetheless. he gets an overwhelming sense of deja vu— but he’s forcibly snapped out of it when je realizes you’re crying. and damn, you look gorgeous, and he wishes it would rain because the sunlight falls around you like liquid gold, framing your pretty face and reflecting prisms of rainbow in your tears.
once again, he doesn’t get it. why are you crying? it’s not like you were really serious or labeled, right…? and the entire reason you’d stayed that way was to avoid somethin like this. but gojo slowly comes to the realization that he’s fucked up big time— he has been since day 1. really, he should’ve found somebody cheaper to chase— you stole his heart and his pride, making him awkwardly and stiffly apologize to you in front of a fast food restaurant on some random crossing next to a train station. it’s only tense because he doesn’t really know how to apologize— he doesn’t have much experience with it, and for that he blames his ego.
but even so, he’s not ready for those big, sappy love confessions yet. you always made him feel so weird— correction: you still do. so you walk away somewhere between fwb and strangers. it’s always one step forward and two steps back with gojo. but maybe, just maybe— he can slowly rebuild your trust with some patience, empathy, and a lot of genuine love that he’s yet to realize he’s been nursing in his heart for you since the first time he laid eyes on you.
paaaaaaart one
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