#in my head the human is mary

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Small angst Good Omens headcannon/au:

Some humans have to report to angels for a bit if they are somehow part of the divine plan. Mostly the reports are oral as high literacy rates are recent and still a priviledge in some countries.

Aziraphale mostly is the one getting the reports but there are some special cases were a different angel does it. One of this times Aziraphel is sent to a human that used to report to Gabriel himself. Azi is really nervous but the report is actually going well and the human even shared a meal with him. Except the human decides to ask questions and they say "are the angels normally more like you or more like Gabriel? The two of you are just soo different" and what they were trying to say was "wow you're soo nice and I actually feel happy and calm talking to you are all the angels like that or is everyone else a condescending asshole?" but what Aziraphale heard was "wow you're a really shitty angel I hope the others aren't like you, Gabriel is soo cool" . When he said that most angles were like Gabriel trying to not sound hurt the human answered with an "oh" sound that meant "I was really hoping they would be more like you but hey at least we got you on earth" but what Aziraphale understood was "oh I was hoping it was that Gabriel was above the average but now I know they sent me a subpar angel". Aziraphale was sad the rest of the day. The human on the other hand was overjoyed they didn't had to report to Gabriel that year. It had been already a stressfull year without that.

[theofficialpresidentoftheusa]

The big boss of hell himself!

I adore his ringmaster theme. Cause he’s running a circus down there. Get it.

[rei-venus]

watch me not touch procreate for another six months

@itotypes i wasn't sure what you meant by "fire Lolita outfit" (and i had already started drawing before you answered) so i hope this is ok

[m0e-ru]

izanami is such a fucking asshole with Marie that she says—she's TOLD—she's a "spy" on humanity. a little fucking prick decided by the same bitch that lied to her face like it was breathing. I mean, you can't say iznmi's wrong right now because they know that you kept her alive. Which meant they were there at her tomb (BECAUSE THEY WERE THERE TO PERSONALLY CLOSE HER CASKET). BUT this fucking bastard laughs when they notice for the first time that you have the comb. the comb they should be full aware of where it's going, which hands it's being passed to—IF THEY WERE AWARE IN THE FIRST PLACE. if they actually USED Marie as the spy she was made to believe she is. She's the perfect vessel, the perfect walking nanny cam for Inaba, but NO. the ONLY time izanami has ever seen through her was in her tomb. has ever used her. has ever possessed her. in the realm definitely not for humans. the world they were born in and not an external factor to the nature of their birth.

BITCH gives a poor girl, dressed up as the representation of personality and rebellion and her poet aspect showing her loneliness and isolation, a false sense of purpose right when she was born. that she's just a trashcan for fog with a tomb adorned in flowers and memories at its dumpsite. that she was there to watch people and walk around the human world to remember nothing and be remembered by nobody. if yaldaboath can kick an old man out of his stupid blue office, what more than izanami using a child as a periscope in their guinea pig's dreambase of operations and understand the power of Persona and Truth and Bonds and counteract these meddling kids' and their Power of Friendship in stopping the formation of the New World where they can grant the majority's wish to live in lies and their stupid shitfuck fog.

not that I'm saying I do want god to make full use of their powers and have a better advantage at rigging their social experiment that already concluded by this point but like. fucking asshole didn't even need Marie. so why. put her through so much unnecessary grief. why not dispose her form the start when she'd be thrown away in the end anyway. why make her go through this field trip to remember the home she loves and protects if she could only remember.

why make her suffer through this humanity both of you were supposed to have. make her believe she's nothing and have her put herself to sleep quietly pushing away all the people she loves and who love her when you'll just make fun of her entire existence. did you do this to laugh? were the humans you born from give you the template to make people who search for the truth suffer? that anyone thinking of protecting these selfish masses should just die? that developing humanity is a bad thing? that that's your humor? could you not kill her yourself? was this only for your entertainment? a sick representation of the people who gave birth to you truly are?

[youssefguedira]

ok so i just discovered your tog lotr au and i LOVE it, it works so well. i wanted to ask, how did andy and quynh fall in love/get together in this au?

this ask was sent a while ago oops but it goes a little something like this

Quynh is young, the equivalent of twelve years old in human terms, when she sees Andromache of Scythia, heir to the throne of Gondor, for the first time, though she does not know yet who Andromache is, nor who she will become.

She's heard mention of something happening for days, yet everyone has been carefully vague about what exactly it is around her, and whenever she has asked directly the only answer she's received is usually along the lines of you'll understand when you're older. Suffice to say, it's been frustrating. 

Of course, she has another plan. 

She'd been the one to discover the place not long ago, a section of roof that, when she climbs up and lies flat on her stomach, provides a near-perfect view of the path that leads to Rivendell's gate and into the courtyard. So on the day that the something is supposed to occur, that's where she goes. 

Nico's already waiting for her when she arrives, shuffled close enough to the edge to make room for her, looking out over the courtyard. He’s ten in human terms, shorter than Quynh, a fact which frustrates him endlessly, and Quynh’s best friend in the world. “I think they’re arriving soon,” he says as she climbs up. “Whoever’s coming.”

“Who do you think it is?” She hauls herself up properly to lie beside him. 

“I don’t know. Other elves, maybe? From Mirkwood?”

“They would have told us,” she points out. They would have told him, at least - he’s from Mirkwood, after all, even if he’s lived in Rivendell for almost his entire life.

“Maybe,” Nico says. “Wait. I see something.”

He points towards the furthest point on the path that they can see from here, where sure enough, two horses are approaching, cloaked figures atop their backs, one of them noticeably smaller than the other. 

It’s not until they arrive in the courtyard where four elves - including Quynh’s father - are waiting to greet them, and lower the hoods of their cloaks, that their faces become visible. They’re similar in appearance, both with long black hair pulled back in neat braids and pale eyes, dressed in simple leather armour, and with rounded ears instead of pointed. Human, then. The taller of the two bears a long, double headed axe strapped to her back. The smaller is perhaps Quynh’s age in human terms, perhaps a little bit younger. 

“What are they doing here, do you think?” Nico whispers. Quynh shushes him, gaze fixed on the new arrivals as they dismount their horses, the younger one coming to stand beside the elder, who must be a relation, perhaps her mother. The elder is speaking, but Quynh cannot make out the words. 

Quynh’s father nods, and then steps aside, beckoning to the girl, who steps forward, looking back only once at the elder. She smiles, sadly. Quynh’s father places a hand on the girl’s back and says something to her, then the two of them turn and walk towards Rivendell, leaving the elder behind. 

Quynh watches until they disappear from sight.

“Who do you think she is?” Nico wonders aloud.

“I don’t know,” Quynh responds.

-----------------------

Quynh actually meets Andromache, heir of Isildur, for the first time almost a year later. She and Nico are largely kept away from her for the first year of her time in Rivendell, either by their own obligations that keep them out of mischief, in her father’s words, or by the older elves finding ways to redirect their curiosity. Quynh never forgets about their strange guest, but after the first few months, she stops actively trying to seek her out.

She and Nico are in the gardens, having escaped their duties for a brief time, though Quynh’s certain it won’t be long before someone comes looking for them. Nico is crouching on the bank of the stream while Quynh perches on the edge of the bridge, scouring the ground for pebbles which he slips in his pocket, his slingshot clutched in the other hand, chewing on his lip in concentration.

“I bet you can’t hit that branch from the bridge,” Quynh says, leaning back on her hands and swinging her legs. 

Nico looks up, never able to resist a challenge. “Which one?”

“That one.” She points to a small branch a good distance away - too far for Nico to hit, she’s sure. He’s a good shot, but she’s better.

Nico tilts his head to one side, calculating as he studies it. “What do I get if I win?” She knows he’s only pretending to be considering it - they’re both far too competitive to let a challenge slide. Frighteningly similar, her father had told them once.

“Satisfaction,” Quynh says. At Nico’s unimpressed look, she holds up the bundle she’d wrapped carefully in cloth earlier. “And this, I suppose.” It’s a roll of bread she’d stolen from the kitchen, filled with sweet honey. 

(They’ll share it, she knows, regardless of who wins. They always do. But it’s fun to pretend.)

“All right,” Nico says, and Quynh grins. He positions himself at the spot Quynh picks, the very center of the bridge, and takes aim.

The pebble flies through the air and misses by some considerable distance, dropping into the stream with a neat splash. Nico curses while Quynh laughs. “I told you you couldn’t hit it.”

“I bet I could,” a new voice says from behind them. Quynh and Nico turn sharply towards the speaker. 

The human girl is leaning against a tree, her arms folded. 

“You’re welcome to try,” Nico responds. “What’s your name?”

Andromache looks at Quynh.

“Andromache,” she says, taking Nico’s previous spot on the bridge. “What about you?”

“Nicolò,” Nico says. “Of Mirkwood.” 

“Quynh,” Quynh responds. The curious side of her is overjoyed to finally have learned something about the guest they’ve had for a year but never met, while the competitive side is bristling at her easy confidence. Nico passes Andromache the slingshot, and she takes aim.

The pebble misses narrowly, but misses nonetheless. Andromache unleashes a colorful string of curses in both Elvish and the human language, many of which Quynh has never heard before. She smiles despite herself and holds out her hand. “My turn.”

Quynh takes longer to fire than Andromache or Nico had, carefully sizing up the distance and the height before she shoots - and hits the branch, causing it to shake from the impact. She whoops in victory, while Nico sighs heavily, largely more for show than any sense of real disappointment. Andromache just watches Quynh curiously, her blue eyes piercing. 

“I win,” Quynh declares.

“I’ll beat you next time,” Nico mutters. 

“Of course you will,” Quynh says sweetly, not meaning a word of it. She unwraps the honey roll and, even though she’d won, breaks it into three, passing a piece to Nico and then offering one to Andromache.

Andromache looks down at it almost disbelievingly before looking back up at Quynh. 

“Are you going to take it or not?” Quynh asks. 

Andromache takes it.

-----------------------

After that point, the three of them become near-inseparable: Andromache fits perfectly into Quynh and Nico’s lives, and they quickly discover that the amount they can get away with becomes significantly more when there is a third person in their group to help them. The terror of Rivendell, Quynh’s father calls them, shaking his head but smiling fondly when they get caught yet again. 

Andromache is always vague about exactly why she’d come to Rivendell, but the way she speaks about it suggests it had been out of necessity. Quynh never pushes, and Andromache never offers any further information.

When Nico’s training as a healer means he’s busier than usual and therefore kept away from her by one thing or another for most of the time, Quynh spends her time with Andromache, wandering the gardens of Rivendell, sparring (Andromache is good, but not better than Quynh is, and she wins most of the time), or simply talking for hours on end. Andromache is an incredible storyteller, and funny, and smart.

It feels only inevitable that, as the three of them move from childhood into adulthood, that Quynh falls for her. 

It’s gradual at first, a slow build and then a sudden, sharp realisation that of course that’s what this is, of course she loves her, how could she not? 

She never breathes a word to anyone, but Nico figures it out quickly - he’s her brother in all but blood, after all, has known her since they were too young to remember. They’re by the stream in one of their now-rare moments of free time, Nico sitting with his back against a tree and reading, Quynh standing on the bank. She is supposed to be practicing her spellwork; she is completely distracted. Her current position gives her a perfect line of sight to the courtyard, in which Andromache is sparring with one of the guards, axe in hand, her movements beautifully precise, as if she’s dancing. She’s beautiful, laughing as she dodges her opponent’s next blow, and Quynh is weak.

“Your mind is not where it should be,” Nico says, still largely focused on his book.

“Oh, shut up,” Quynh tells him half-heartedly, watching Andromache push her hair back from her face with a wide grin.

He looks up at her over the top of his book, follows her gaze, and it’s in that moment that he puts two and two together, his eyes widening. “Wait, you-”

“Not a word, Nico,” she says, but it’s too late.

“How long?” he asks. She finally forces herself to look away from the courtyard and back at him. 

“I don’t know,” she answers. “Forever, it feels like.”

“Forever, huh?” he teases. She sits down on the grass near him and uses the proximity to kick him in the shin. He yelps. 

“You mustn’t say anything, understand?” she says. “Nothing. I don’t want her to know.”

“Not even if-” he begins, but relents when she gives him a sharp look. “Okay. I will not say anything,” he says, serious, and she knows he won’t, even if he teases her about it. She loves him for it. “But I think that you should,” he adds. “Who knows? Maybe she’s been secretly in love with you this whole time, too.”

Quynh doesn’t respond, doesn’t want to talk about that possibility any further. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“And you don’t?” Nico fires back, and the subject is dropped.

-----------------------

Andromache, chieftain of the Dunedain and the person Quynh has been hopelessly in love with for years, leaves them when she is 20 years old. By that point, both Quynh and Nico are almost adult elves, halfway through their respective training, and still referred to by Quynh’s father as the terror of Rivendell. Some things don’t change.

Andromache tells them herself, one evening when they’re perched on the roof - the ledge is too small to fit the three of them, especially now that they’re not children any more, but they’ve adapted. The stars are bright overhead, and it’s late enough that Quynh’s fairly sure Nico has fallen asleep. Andromache is beside her, curled close for warmth, and the sight of her gilded in starlight makes Quynh’s heart skip a beat. She’s resting her head on Andromache’s shoulder, halfway to sleeping herself.

“I spoke to your father a few days ago,” Andromache says, drawing Quynh from her thoughts.

“Hm?” Quynh asks sleepily. Maybe she’s more tired than she’d thought.

“I think I have to leave,” Andromache says then, and Quynh sits up, suddenly very awake.

“What?”

“If I’m ever going to become- the person I’m supposed to be,” Andromache says, “I can’t stay here forever. I wouldn’t leave for good, just… for a little while.”

Quynh had never even considered the possibility that Andromache would leave. She understands why, but. She hadn’t expected it.

“Where will you go?” Nico asks, sitting up. Not asleep, then, though he blinks and rubs at his eyes as if he hadn’t been far from it. 

“I don’t know,” Andromache says. “But I’ll come back.”

Quynh believes that, even if she’s not sure of anything else. 

Andromache leaves exactly a week later, the same way she’d arrived so many years ago - on horseback, long hair braided back, with her axe strapped to her back just like her mother had had. Quynh watches her go as part of the group sent to bid her farewell, wearing the silver circlet that marks her as her father’s daughter. She lingers there for a long time after Andromache disappears from sight. Nico stays beside her and doesn’t say a word, his hand gentle on her back, reminding her he’s there.

-----------------------

Andromache of Scythia, future king by fate, wanderer by choice, returns to Rivendell ten years to the day after she had left.

The ten years she’s gone aren’t lonely. Quynh has Nico, of course, and her training. She travels, on occasion, sometimes with Nico, sometimes by herself. She is given more and more responsibility within Rivendell. She doesn’t forget Andromache, but she doesn’t spend all of her time waiting for her, either.

She misses her, though, so much it aches sometimes. Andromache never writes, and Quynh doesn’t expect her to - they’d never talked about that, but it doesn’t stop Quynh from wanting to hear from her, if only to know that she lives still, and is well.

Ten years later though, Quynh finds herself once again in the courtyard, waiting with her heart in her throat. It’s been so long, and she has changed so much, yet she still loves Andromache more than she knows what to do with. 

“You’re nervous,” Nico says beside her. 

“I’m not,” Quynh lies, even though she knows full well he can see the way she’s fidgeting with her sleeve. “It has been a long time.”

Whatever else Nico was going to say is cut off by the sound of hooves in the distance, far away but growing closer with every beat of Quynh’s heart. And then she’s there, Andromache, not cloaked this time but riding towards them like the king she was born to be, head held high, already smiling. Her hair is cropped short, which is new, and she’s dressed in human clothes, leather bracers on her wrists. She’s still the most beautiful thing Quynh’s ever seen. 

“Andromache of Scythia,” Quynh’s father says. “Welcome. I believe we have much to speak of.”

Andromache dismounts and approaches, her eyes flicking to Quynh for just a moment. “We do.”

“Come, then,” Quynh’s father says. Just like he had all those years ago, he gestures for her to follow, and she does. 

Quynh doesn’t see her again until later. They’re in the gardens, she and Nico, and Quynh is not-so-subtly watching the treeline for any sign of Andromache. 

“What if-” she begins, but Nico cuts her off before she can start.

“Nothing is wrong,” he says. “It’s Andromache, Quynh. She’s our friend.”

“It’s been ten years.”

“And we knew her for almost that long before that. Relax. Stop pacing. And maybe you’ll be able to stop pining after-”

Nico will forever deny that the sound he makes upon being pushed into the stream is a shriek. Quynh knows better. It’s really not all that deep, and he knows it, but he glares at her anyway as she laughs. 

Andromache finds the two of them like that, Nico sitting waist deep in the stream and trying very valiantly to look angry, Quynh laughing so hard she has to lean back against a tree. “What did Nico do this time?” she calls, and Quynh freezes in place.

Andromache’s grinning as she approaches, and Nico scrambles to his feet, and then she’s there, pulling Quynh into a hug, and all Quynh can really do is cling to her - she’s missed her. 

“It’s good to see you,” Andromache says warmly when she pulls back, reaching up to trace Quynh’s braids. “You look good.”

“So do you,” Quynh says. She runs her fingers through Andromache’s now-short hair. “This suits you.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Andromache says. Nico clears his throat, as if to remind them both he’s still there.

“I just remembered,” Nico says, entirely un-subtle, “there was, ah, something I needed to finish. I’ll see you both later.” It is, perhaps, the worst excuse she’s ever heard him make up. She’ll make fun of him for it later - for now, she’s distracted. 

He leaves them alone, and suddenly there’s nothing keeping Quynh from saying everything she’s wanted to for the past ten years (and more). The prospect is both thrilling and absolutely terrifying.

Andromache is the first one to break the silence. “I brought you something,” she says, reaching into her pocket. “Spent some time with the dwarves, learned how to work with metal.”

She opens her fist, and lying in her palm is a silver pendant, sparkling in the sunlight: not quite circular, a white jewel like a drop of starlight circled by a band of silver, beautifully engraved. Quynh takes it, holds it up to the light to watch how it catches it. “You made this?” she whispers. 

“And this,” Andromache says. This time, she pulls a dagger from her belt, its hilt decorated with engravings that match those of the necklace, another gem embedded within it.

“They’re beautiful,” Quynh tells her.

Andromache looks almost nervous, which feels unthinkable. “I wasn’t sure if- it’s been a long time,” she says. “I wanted to write, but I didn’t know if you would want-”

“It would have been welcome,” Quynh says. “You will always be welcome.”

For a long while, Andromache is silent. Then, “May I?” she asks, taking the necklace back. 

Quynh melts, winding one arm around Andromache’s neck and the other around her waist, presses close until there’s barely any space between them. Andromache cards her fingers through Quynh’s hair, runs her hand along Quynh’s spine. When they part - because, it seems, they do still need to breathe - it takes Quynh a moment to open her eyes. 

Quynh nods and turns around. Andromache’s fingers brush her neck lightly as she fastens the necklace’s clasp, and Quynh closes her eyes, gathering her courage - what for, she doesn’t exactly know, only that she has to do something.

When she turns around, Andromache is watching her with something unreadable in her eyes. “I missed you,” she says. Neither of them move; Quynh barely breathes. Then, finally, Andromache mutters something under her breath Quynh can’t quite catch, leans in, and kisses her. 

They should talk about it. They will have to talk about it at some point. But then Andromache smiles like the sun, and all Quynh can do is kiss her again.

-----------------------

(“Something you needed to finish?” Quynh mutters to Nico at dinner that evening. “Really, Nico? That’s the best you had?”

“It worked, no?” Nico points out, gesturing to Andromache beside her. Right now, she’s talking to someone else, but her hand is resting on Quynh’s knee under the table, and Quynh’s never been happier. 

“I suppose,” Quynh concedes. Nico grins. 

“And now, maybe I will get a break from your pining,” he continues. Quynh kicks him lightly under the table, because, well. Some things don’t change.

She loves him, really.)

[sallertiafabrica]

Very important doodles

[acaciapines]

oh the satisfaction of filling in one of the holes in your outline. literally does anything else compare.

[huevobuevo]

Call me basic and shit but like ive been replaying “Mary On A Cross” by Ghost for days cause of that fucking. Chorus man……… “your beauty never ever scared me” perfectly describes my FAVORITE relationship type man waht the fugggggggggggf

[elasgottoomuchfreetime]

Though we adore men individually, we agree that as a group they‘re rather stupid~🎶

[pkmn-lillie]

i mean i have been given so much (50+ more "steve harrington has powers" fics) thanks to season 4, but i still desire more

[kn96artworks]

current occupation: unofficial medical advisor(?)

[shatteredminds]

Word- Laundry

Letter- O

Character-

Osvald Chane Valnicii Friis

Others-

Nora Synnove Säde Väyrynen Friis

Hugo Kip Valnicii Friis

Nala Mystique Valniciala Friis

Mentioned-

Ulfric Valter Wolvranii Friis

Lucy Itiunnr Leiashrala Rosenqvist-Tähtinen

Uriel Perachia Berunsarii Fevold

Translations-

Átøsálian-

Bïsvěr = Bitch

Lívánø = Little shit

Vïz ná tůlvï gïrłïvát máhïté = Mother fucking cock gargling cunt faced bitch

Laundry day

Osvald groaned as he looked at the chore calendar that his mother made for him and the other souls chained to the Átøsálian Provence known as Shådøwy Isles. Today it was his turn to do the last week's worth of laundry, which ment not only did he have to scour his room for every piece of dirt clothes he had to make sure no pair of briefs were hidden under anything, but he had to make sure his little siblings did the same.

Though that was not because His, Hugo, and Nala's mother would have a fit about a few dirty clothes not making it into the wash, but their fathers military ass coming in today to do a his bi-weekly check in on his four eldest children's house to see if anything needs to be fixed and stock up on.

Sure Ulfric was fine with some dirty clothing being on the floor, though he might make a bit of a fuss due to Nora having a weaker immune system then Osvald, Hugo, and Nala due to her being... what did that four eyed doctor prick say? 'Equally as human as she is immortal genetics wise.' Yeah that was it, that's what his mother's cousin said.

"That bïsvěr should just mind his own fucking business." Osvald thought, fishing out a pair of boxers from behind his dresser. Why were they back there exactly? Well they happen to be crusty with dried blood from challenging his last potential mate to a duel three nights ago, she didn't pass so he killed her. Though that was evident from the other garments in his piled high laundry basket that were also caked with crusty dried blood.

Once all his dirty linens were acounted for he did a quick sweep of the room just in case, there was nothing. But he did have a who lot of blood smears to wash off of the walls later. Picking up the overflowing basket he carries it to the laundry room, cussing a storm whenever he had to pick up a piece of clothing trying to flee it's soapy fate.

Once getting there he stuffs the two weeks worth of clothes into one of the four washers, puts a ton of detergent into the dispenser along with tossing a pod or two in with the clothes, and puts everything to the appropriate settings before turning the washer on and going to his siblings rooms to collect their clothes for the same fate.

Heading to Nora's den he didn't even have knock on the door as she already had her basket outside her door. It contained a lot less clothing than his did but that was due to her doing her laundry three days ago. Picking it up he went back to the laundry room and repeated the process but with way less detergent.

He made an internal note that both Nora and Nala were in there and by the sounds of it they were chatting about some boys from the school they went to. Though that was none of his concern and he knew that if he were to confront them about it they would just berate him and call him a hypocrite since he stalks the girls he's interested in before challenging them to a death fight which ultimately ends with the girl dieing.

Now it was Hugo and Nala's turn. Like Nora, Nala has her clothing neatly in the hamper which currently resided outside the twins den. Hugo's however... was not. Though the sounds of the younger dire wolf tinkering with some machines could be heard inside. As such, Osvald knocked on the door to announce his presence before entering the twins den.

"Oi, it's laundry day ya lívánø." Osvald says as he walls into his younger siblings den. The contrast of cleanliness between the twins was obvious as Nala's half of the room was neat with very little mess on the floor and tops of her dressers and such, only her bed was unmade.

However, Hugo's half was utterly chaotic. Dirty clothes scattered about with various stains ranging from blood to oil. Tools and weapons littered every surfaces alongside the various projects Hugo was working on and his bed was partially clawed up for gods know what reason. Yet there the dire wolf was, tinkering away on what looked to be a car engine. His face covered in smears of grease and grime, unaware of his elder brothers presence and not even hearing him enter as he was listening to music.

Eye twitching at the mess, Osvald grabbed one of the magazines that was sitting on the shelf next to door and rolled it up. He walked over to Hugo and smacked the younger wolfs head with the rolled up magazine.

*THWACK*

Hugo yelped in surprise, dropping the engine mechanism that he had in his hands onto the workbench in front of him causing it to break apart as his hands darted to the back of his head to prevent any oncoming strikes.

"Vïz ná tůlvï gïrłïvát máhïté!" Hugo cussed as he rubbed the back of his head with one hand and turning the sound systems volume before turning around to face his assailant.

"Damit Osvald, you know I've been working on that for almost a month no-!" Hugo begun to say before getting smacked again.

*THWACK*

"Today's laundry day ya lívánø and you damn well know it." Osvald scolded, his ice blue eyes staring straight into Hugo's emerald green ones once the latter recovered from the his latest attack.

"Ai, you know me well enough to know that I loose track of time easily." Hugo says while glaring at his older brother.

"Well you could have at least put your clothes in your basket instead of all over your room so I could put them in the wash!" The raven haired wolf snaped, pissed off by his little brother as this wasn't the first time he's done this.

"Like your one to talk Ozzy, your den was a damn pigstye the last time I saw it." Hugo growled, "No different then this half of mone and Nala's den."

"I'm cleaning it today and your going to clean yours right now." Osvald says after turning around and walking to the door. "You have fifteen minutes to get your clothes gathered up so I can put them in a wash. If that's not done when I get back I'm going to give ya a beat down."

"YoU hAvE fIfTeEn MiNuTeS..." Hugo mocked under his breath as he gathered up his dirty clothes. Getting hit by the magazine that Osvald was once holding.

Fifteen minutes later, Osvald went back to Hugo and Nala's den to collect Hugo's clothes. They weren't outside the door like Osvald was hoping they'd be. Eye twitching once more Osvald busts into the den, only to be met by a butt naked Hugo tossing what he was wearing into the now full laundry basket.

"Hugahh!!" Osvald exlaimed at the sight of his brother, turning around and rubbing his eyes trying to remove the image he'd just seen. "By the gods Hugo, why are you fucking naked when you should be cleaning! Never mind I don't want to know just push you basket outside." He says now exiting the room.

Hugo burst out laughing at his brothers reaction before opening the door wide enough to push the basket into the hallway. "You're just jealous because I'm bigger then you~" He teases before getting knocked onto his ass via Osvald shoving the door closed. Still snickering he got up and went for his shower.

Once all the laundry was done and switched over to dry, Osvald had cleaned up his room. When that was done her delivered the clean yet unfolded clothing to there respective dens. Nala's basket of clean laundry was placed on her bed while Hugo's on the other hand... Osvald dumped the clean clothing onto his little brother who was now napping with nothing but a towel over his nether regions.

Ozvald knocked on Nora's door before putting her basket down and telling her and Nala that the laundry done via yelling through the door.

"Laundrys done." He yells, "Just a warning Nala, Hugo's napping naked right now."

"That's nothing new Oz but thanks for the heads up." The she wolf yells back.

Now back in his room, he placed the basket on the dresser and plopped down on his bed. Doing laundry was tiring when one had to do nit only their own garments but the garments of three others as well.

At least the clothes and his room were clean, he could care less about the state of his siblings dens now.

[kleefkruid]

Every fun post on here that encourages people to have hobbies/be creative always gets an avalanche of "Some people are poor Karen" type reactions and respectfully, you're all super annoying. I've never lived above the poverty line and this is a list of hobbies I have that were cheap or entirely free:

Read books: Go to the library, lend a book from a friend

knitting, crochet, embroidery: Get some needles from the bargan store and ask around, people have leftovers from projects they'll happily give you. Thrift stores also often carry leftover fabric and other supplies. And talk about your hobby loud enough and an old lady will show up and gift you their whole collection, because there are way more old ladies with a closet full of wool than there are grandchildren who want to take up the hobby.

Origami/paper crafts: get some scrap paper and scissors, watch a youtube tutorial

walking: put on shoes open door

pilates/yoga/etc: get a mat or just use your carpet, watch a youtube tutorial

Houseplants: look online for people that swap plant cuttings. There are always people giving out stuff for free to get you started. If you're nice enough you'll probably get extra

gardening: You're gonna need some space for this one of course but you can just play around with seeds and cuttings from your grocery vegetables.

aquarium keeping is a bit of an obscure one but I got most of my stuff second hand for cheap or free and now I have a few thousand euro worth of material and plants.

drawing/art: You get very far just playing with bargan store materials. I did my entire art degree with mostly those.

writing: Rotate a cow in your head for free

cooking: again one you can make very expensive, but there are many budget recipes online for free. Look for African or Asian shops to get good rice and cheap spices.

Join a non-profit: Cities will have creative organisations who let you use woodworking machines or screen presses or laser cutters or 3D printers etc etc etc for a small fee. Some libraries also lend out materials.

candle making: You need some molds (cheap), wick, two old cooking pots for au bain marie melting and a ton of scrap candles, ask people to keep them aside for you.

a herbarium, flower pressing: Leaves are free, wildflowers too, ask if you can take from peoples gardens.

puzzles: thrift stores, your grandma probably

Citizen science: look for projects in your area or get the iNaturalist app

And lastly and most importantly: Share! Share your supllies, share your knowledge. Surround yourself with other creative people and before you know it someone will give you a pot of homemade jam and when you want to paint your kabinet someone will have leftover paint in just the right color and you can give them a homemade candle in return and everyone is having fun and building skills and friendships and not a cent is exchanged. We have always lived like this, it's what humans are build to do.

And all of it sure beats sitting behind a computer going "No stranger, I refuse to let myself have a good time."

Anyway I'm logging off bc I'm making some badges for a friend who cooked for me and then I'm going to fix some holes in everyones clothes.

[midnightwriter21]

demon slayer hcs: motherly hashira!reader x the hashira pt 2

characters: fem!reader x muichiro, sanemi, mitsuri, obanai

AN: this is a pt 2 for the request from @danielle-marie

READ THE FIRST PART HERE

MUICHIRO

I LOVE THIS BABY SM U DONT UNDERSTAND

he's the hashira that ur most comfortable around

he was a hashira before u

but u get promoted and its an instinct

child.

must protect.

at first he probably gets annoyed by you

he's not used to someone caring for him the way that u do

but then one day ur sent on a long mission

maybe a few weeks long

and he finds himself missing something

of course he has no idea what it is that he's missing something

he completely forgot about u

but when you get back to the butterfly estate and he sees u

it clicks

he remembers

he missed you

he missed your overprotective nature

he missed your soft caring voice

he missed the way that you brush and style his hair

he REALLY missed that ^

walks up to u, grabs ur hand and tugs u away

doesn't care if you were talking to someone

and doesn't say a word

brings you to his favorite cloud watching spot with a tight grip on your hand

makes you sit down

and lays his head in ur lap

stop im squealing and kicking my feet from the cuteness

SANEMI

my guyyyyyy

have i ever told yall that i love him?

only in every single thing i post

anyways

he HATES you at first

lmfao rip u

your shy and quiet nature reminds him of giyuu

and if theres one person sanemi can't stand

its giyuu

therefore he don't fw u

and doesn't pay u much attention

UNTILLLLL

he witnesses u pulling genya by the ear to the infirmary after a mission

and telling genya tf off for pulling som stupid shit during the mission

+100 respect right there

not only are u actually talking

but ur screaming??

at his brother??

and taking care of him at the same time?????

my guy is lucky if he doesn't pop a boner right there lmfaooo

starts paying more attention to u after that

and is noticeably a lot nicer and calmer around you

will blush beet red and deny tf out of it if the other hashira comment abt his change of heart

but def develops a soft spot for u

MITSURI

SWEETEST HUMAN BEING TO EVER EXIST EVER

she loves u

ofc she does she's the love hashira

but in mitsuri's mind how could she not absolutely ADORE u

not only are you breathtakingly beautiful in her eyes

but she sees the way u interact with the younger slayers

how u genuinely care for everyone's wellbeing

if she wasn't looking for a husband she would wife u tf UP

she still might lol

mitsuri is gonna go out of her way to become friends with you

she's inviting u to her estate for girl's night with shinobu

she's dragging u along to her favorite restaurant for lunch

she's inviting u to join her at the hot springs to relax

she really enjoys ur presence

even if ur shy she thinks ur very soothing to be around

she loves when you do her hair!!

and when u cook for her??

mitsuri alrdy eats a lot

but if u made the food for her??

girl is not letting a CRUMB go to waste

loves the way u take care of everyone

especially when u take care of her

10/10 would recommend a mitsuri

OBANAI

someone pls love this man

he needs it so bad

so dude had SHIT parents

like bad bad

so when he sees ur interactions with the younger slayers he's prob a lil put off at first

like ma'am?

this is the demon slayer corps??

we don't have time for all ur mothering and coddling

but then he's injured on a mission

and waiting in the infirmary for shinobu to show up and patch him up

and then u bust through the doors???

confused asf

shinobu is on a mission and you've been helping out in the infirmary

so looks like ur the one taking care of him today

and turns out his injury is bad enough to land him an extended stay in his lil hospital bed

and after a few days of u taking care of him

with ur red face and soft stuttered words

he learns that you're not so bad

and he actually enjoys being around you

and being taken care of

won't voice this tho

but when Aoi comes in to give him his meds one day he gives himself away by accident

with a

"where's y/n?"

he's a blushing grumbling mess after that lol

after he discharged best believe the next time he gets injured he's not even going to the infirmary

he's hunting u tf down

nobody else gets to take care of him except YOU

and thats period.

[angelltheninth]

The Devil Corrupts a Nun

Pairing: Male Devil x Female!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, dirty talk, corruption kink, mentions of God, creampie, name-calling, fucking from behind, eye contact (with Jesus, idk what to tag here)

A/N: This has nothing to do with a Warrior Nun fic I read a while ago... nope.

"I was surprised at first, how easy it was to get you into this position." His long tongue licked the side of your newly exposed neck, "Then again you religious types are all to happy to get on your knees aren't you. All that kneeling, at least this time you get something good out of it." His hot hands roamed your body, pinching your nipples as he thrust into you from behind.

Of all the placed to let a demon, a devil take you it should not have been in the church. It shouldn't have been anywhere.

"To tell you the truth it worried me a little." He said thoughtfully.

"What did?" He was worried about you? That couldn't be right. He was only using you for his pleasure wasn't he? And you let him do it. Part of you enjoyed knowing that he found you so desirable to step into a place of worship.

Fangs pressed against your heated, wet skin, "That someone got to you before I did." His tail sneaked between your legs, trailing your shaking thighs before delivering a quick slap against your clit. "But no, of course you wouldn't do that. You were saving this pretty pussy. I'm flattered, human."

You shook your head, mind nearly blank as he kept bottoming out and rubbing his tail over your abused clit. "Not for you, devil."

"Of course not for me. For Him." His claws dug into your scalp as he pulled your hair and made you look at the cross, "That's what makes it all the sweeter for me. I get to take you, make you my own, make you moan in pleasure. Tell Him. Go on, tell Him how good my cock feels."

"I can't. I won't." If you admit to in front of God then... the Devil really will take your soul. You hated how appealing that was to you in this moment. But after? He would surely get tired of you.

"No? Then I should stop?" You whimpered as he started to pull out. "I shouldn't? You want more?" You tore your face away from his grip, eyes on the floor, fists balled into fists, "You can admit it. If you do so I will make you my woman, forever."

Your body moved in it's own, hips rolling back until your ass was against him, "Don't leave."

He pressed himself against you, your hips tilted up, head pushed down, "Then I won't. I'll be here every night when you come here to prey, to ask for forgiveness. I will teach you everything about pleasure, mine and your own. With how much I come in your womb they might think of you as the next Virgin Mary. Little will they know you're a the devil's cockslut."

Your pussy clenched tight around his cock, keeping him in while he emptied himself inside you, growling praise and sin into your ear.

[fairuzfan]

"Israel also secretly hires Jewish Americans as spies to work out of its Washington embassy and its consulates around the United States to covertly surveil and monitor fellow Americans, including students. Thoroughly vetted to ensure loyalty to Israel, many of those hired have spent years heavily involved in pro-Israeli activities from the time they were in college and before. Among them was Julia Reifkind, who led a pro-Israel group at the University of California at Davis before moving on to become an activist with AIPAC. After she graduated in 2016, she was hired by Israel and assigned to its embassy in Washington.

Reifkind had good preparation for her assignment. Thinking that Kleinfeld was a fellow pro-Israel activist, over dinner at Washington’s Mari Vanna restaurant she revealed that while at AIPAC she spent much of her time deceiving college students about her covert connection to the organization. “Obviously, I’m an AIPAC-trained campus activist,” she said. “When you’re lobbying on behalf of AIPAC, you don’t say AIPAC, you say, ‘I’m a pro-Israel student from UC Davis.’ And when you’re meeting with students on campus I would never say, ‘I am the AIPAC campus rep.’ I’d say, ‘My name is Julia and I’m a pro-Israel student.’”

At the embassy, Reifkind focused on developing intelligence on fellow Americans, including students on college campuses. “So nobody really knows what we’re doing,” she said. “But mainly it’s been a lot of research like monitoring BDS.”

In a different conversation, Reifkind explained: “It’s mainly gathering intel, reporting back to Israel. That’s a lot of what I do. To report back to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Ministry of Strategic Affairs, and make sure they have the right information.” Among the ways she spies on pro-Palestinian activists and Palestinian human rights supporters is with phony Facebook accounts. “I have my fake Facebook that I follow all the SJP [Students for Justice in Palestine] accounts. I have some fake names. My name is Jay Bernard or something.”

Once Reifkind collected the intelligence on her targets, she passed it on to her boss at the embassy. Then it was sent to the Ministry of Strategic Affairs and other offices over a secure encrypted system called Cables. It’s “really secure,” she said. “I don’t have access to [it] because I’m an American.… I’ve seen it, it looks really bizarre…. And then they’ll send something back and he’ll translate it and tell me what I need to do.”

Since the brutal Hamas attacks on Israeli civilians on October 7 and the Israeli invasion of Gaza, the ICC and its US-based spy networks are no doubt working overtime. But there is little likelihood of interference by the FBI—well trained to look the other way when it comes to Israel. It was a situation that even frustrated a former head of the FBI’s counterintelligence division. When I asked him why no one would talk to me about Israel’s massive espionage in the United States, he simply shook his head.

“You don’t think Israel’s a sensitive topic?” he asked, requesting that his name not be used. “So, Israel has been looked at and is being looked at and that’s all I can tell you,” he said. “But nobody’s doing anything.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“You can imagine,” is all he would say, implying high-level political involvement. I then said that I was planning to write about the topic. “I hope you do. I hope you do,” he said. Sighing, he added, “I’ve been there done that. I know it. I’ve brought cases to the Department of Justice on Israel.” Cases that were never opened."

— Israel’s War on American Student Activists by James Bamford on The Nation