#it's not urgent anyhow

[luveline]

Hi Jade! I absolutely love your writing, especially when you write for Eddie or Steve. Love these two. I was wondering if you could write about an insucure reader who has been rejected a lot and doesn't believe it when someone actually starts loving her for who she is. I'd love this with either Eddie or Steve . You can choose who you want to write for. If you don't wanna write something like this, that's fine too. Just know that I love your writing!

ty for requesting!! —you have a hard time believing eddie loves you, but he does. fem, 1.1k

“Oh my god.” 

Eddie freaks you out when he talks like that. His voice turns hoarse, almost grainy, like he’s in shock, or he can’t get a grip. 

“That’s what you’re wearing?” he asks. 

“It’s not alright?” you ask, looking down at your outfit. It’s just jeans and a chunky cardigan. He sounds like he loves it, but your brain goes straight to worry anyhow. 

“No, not alright.” He leans back against your pillows, his arms behind his head and his biceps doing something cruel against his shirt sleeves. “Not alright at all. Do a spin?” 

You shake your head severely. 

“Doll,” he says, pouting gently. “Please?” 

“No, if it looks bad, I’ll change,” you say. 

“It doesn’t look bad! I’m kidding. You look the opposite of bad, so do a spin!” 

You love his voice and the way he talks, and you love him —though of course he doesn’t know it— so you end up doing a slow spin for him in your bedroom. You’ve buttoned the top button of your cardigan and it’s a very static movement, but he oohs, ahs, and sits up quickly. 

“Yeah, you look fucking beautiful.” 

“Boo,” you mumble. 

“Just as I suspected you would.” He gestures you forward. “Wait, come over here a second.” 

Eddie says wait as an act of persuasion, or a white lie; he makes it sound as though there’s something urgent afoot, but there never is. He grabs your arm when you’re close enough, then your back, looking up into your face imploringly. “I just wanted to look at you.” Being held like this warms you from the inside out. His hand scrunches your cardigan and shirt, the other bringing your arm to his chest. “But you guessed that.” 

“No, I…” You smile in a flat line. “You’re sure I look good?” 

“Of course I am. I was kidding,” he says, softer now. “You know? I was being sarcastic, because you look that good it’s crazy to imply you look bad. I promise.” 

You sit down on the bed beside him. 

“You look so pretty,” he says. 

You nod as a strange ache blossoms in your throat. “Sorry,” you say, wishing you could explain it to him. You weren’t always scared of what people are thinking, but past dismissal has left you off kilter, and now he’s paying the price. 

“For what, angel?” he asks, though he’s not waiting for an answer. “You’re…you do look beautiful, you do, I’m not messing around. Well, I was. But I’m not now, so don’t be sorry, and don’t worry. I love this stuff, I fucking love the jeans, you have nice thighs,” —he laughs at your tired sigh— “and I love buttons. These buttons are great.” 

You let your cheek rest gently on his arm, still laughing. He’s such a sweetheart when he wants to be, but he’s not half as cool as he thinks he is. He’s too earnest to be a bad boy. “Thank you.” 

“I love you.” 

You shake your head. Eddie’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer, face encouraged into his neck. “I do,” he says gently. “I’ve told you before, haven’t I?” 

“Yes.” 

He brings his hand to the back of your neck. “Mm. And have I given you any reason to think I’m lying?” 

“I don’t think you’re lying, I just think that… that I… you know.”

“I know. Doesn’t make it true.” He sounds a peculiar mixture of sad and happy at once. Find concern, perhaps, or loving derision. “I love you, and I’d love it if you walked around in bobbly sweaters and clogs. I don’t care what you wear, ‘cos it’s you.” 

“There’s nothing even that good about me to feel that way for.” 

“You don’t think so, but I do.” He turns his face down to you and presses the bridge of his nose to your temple. 

His t-shirt smells like clary soap. You curl your hand into the front of it, the soft wall of his abdomen underneath a familiar comfort. He hugs you tighter still. Eddie’s told you he loves you a few times, and you’d thought that when a guy finally felt the same way about you, everything would be fixed, you could say it back and live happily ever after, but it hasn’t worked out that way so far. Every time he tells you he loves you, you’re paralysed by the idea that he can’t. But then he holds you like this and you start to wonder if he’s telling the truth. 

He kisses the side of your face. “You okay?” he asks, kissing you again to punctuate. 

“Yes. Yeah.” You work your arms behind his back and squeeze him. 

Eddie encourages your head back carefully. He meets your eyes; all you can see is his irises, deeply brown, and his long lashes where they tent together. You’re too close to see his lips, but you can sense that he’s smiling from the warmth in his eyes and the slight droop of his eyelids. 

“Kiss?” he murmurs. 

You hum a yes. Eddie nudges your nose with his until there’s space to kiss you, your lips pressed tight and then less so, a dance of sweet kisses. You relax under his touch, the physical evidence of his affection, so totally that your back clicks. He smiles into your mouth but pulls away, too tempted by the opportunity to make a joke. 

“You need a masseuse,” he says, bringing his hand to your cheek. 

“No, I don’t.” You can practically see the steam radiating off of your cheeks. 

“You totally do. I could give you a massage, babe. I’m really good.” 

“No… we’re going to the movies.” 

“See, that sounds like you do want one. I can give you one later.” 

You look at him for too long, his brows pulling together in concern, but it’s nothing he has to worry about. “Love you,” you say quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for another hug. 

His arm stutters at your side. “I love you,” you correct. The ‘I’ is important, especially when he’s never heard it from you before. It’s easy to love someone so patient, and so funny. 

He hugs you tight and sudden. “Yeah,” he says, “I love you too.” His watch digs into your spine. You don’t tell him. It’ll probably bruise, but you just don’t care. It’s nice to be loved fiercely. 

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Picnic on the Beach

virgin!luke x reader

A/N: feel free to chat with me in the asks about characters even if requests are closed!

WARNINGS: SMUT!!, cockwarming, sub luke... until he's not

WORD COUNT: 816 words

Luke is a virgin and he so desperately doesn’t want you to know it. You’re so experienced and confident, while he’s confident in everything he does, except for talking to you. At least he can comfort himself with the fact that you have every guy at camp drooling over you but still chose him. 

“You’re liking it then?” He asks as you take a bite of a chocolate covered strawberry, the drip of juice running down your chin making him gulp.

“Of course I do! What girl doesn’t like a picnic by the beach?” You ask him back with a giggle. It isn’t at all unnoticed by you how secluded this part of the beach is. You think that he must have chosen intentionally… you have been dating for a while now.

“I just wanted to make sure it was the perfect day.” He says, wiping the drip of juice from your chin with his thumb. It’s now your turn to be flustered.

“Are you trying to get lucky, Castellan?” Your wording makes him frown.

“A girl like you isn’t just for ‘getting lucky’. I want to give all my love to you.” 

He leans in with renewed courage and you feel his lips press against your neck. He may be a virgin but he’s perceptive. He knows what his girl likes.

“Mmm that feels nice.” You whine out, one hand moving slowly up his thigh. He inhales sharply when he feels you start to palm him through his jeans. “Is that okay?” You ask due to the way he tenses up.

“Y-Yeah… sorry. I’m just uh focusing.” He attempts to explain, trying not to cum instantly when he notices you biting your lip at the sight of the rising tent in his trousers.

“Don’t be sorry.” You say sweetly, taking your time to give him a lingering kiss on the lips.

“You’re just so beautiful. I’d never want to disappoint you.” Your brows furrow when he says it.

“I know it’s your first time but you could never disappoint me.” You say tenderly.

“First time?” His face drops a little. “I didn’t think you knew.” He says with flushed cheeks.

“You did run off with very urgent ‘business’ to attend to halfway through our first makeout sesh.” 

He cringes. “I thought it was a bit more believable than that.”

“I’m afraid not.” You peck one of his red cheeks. “I’m glad you want it to be with me though.”

“I’m glad it gets to be with you.”

You smile and pull him in for another sweet kiss as you unzip his jeans. He’s completely rock hard from only a few gentle touches. To make him more comfortable, you take off your shirt, making yourself equally as undressed. He’s seen you shirtless before but his eyes still light up with pleasure anyhow.

“Are you ready?” You ask, quickly receiving an eager nod from him.

“Yeah.”

You peck his lips once more and situate yourself in his lap, pushing your panties to the side so you can sink down on his long cock.

“Oh gods.” He murmurs as he feels your wet heat around him. Nothing can compare.

“You like that, Lukey?” You tease as you start to rise up and down on him.

“Mhm…” Is all he can get out as his eyes roll back a bit, his hands gripping so firmly to your waist.

You take your time riding him, going excruciatingly slow so that he has to watch each inch of his dick getting pulled in and out of you.

“You’re being mean.” He whines, needing so desperately for you to move faster.

“Aww poor baby.” You tease with a mocking pout before stopping your movement entirely so that you cockwarm him.

He juts his hips up and tries to move you as he holds your waist but you slap his hands off. That very much changes his perspective on things because before you know it, Luke is flipping you onto your back and pounding himself into you. He is no longer patient.

“Oh fuck, Luke!” You moan out, very surprised by the change of events as his hips slam against yours.

“Such a little tease.” He murmurs, thrusting in and out of you harder and harder as he starts to rub your clit.

“Mmm i’m sorry…” You mewl, squirming under him.

“Who’s the whiny baby now?” He teases, rubbing your clit harder, inching you closer and closer to your peak.

His hips start to stutter and his pace slows as you finally start squeezing around him. All he can do is groan and sheath himself fully as he creams inside of you. He could never have lasted a second more with your pussy fluttering and trapping his cock.

He collapses on top of you, feeling fully spent as he rests his head on your chest.

“And someone thought he was going to disappoint.”

taglists (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

Luke Castellan: @amortencjja @urmomsbananabread @kissingyourgrl @vikimontethegirlblogger @maryann2013 @stark-head @remussbitch @ever8ea @batmandabest @jennapancake @junos-web @tanifsblog @stupidtween  @10ava01

[seoulzie]

Hiii! I recently saw your hyuka fic and oopp... my heart thumped a little bit harder. 😖 And i saw that your requests are open??? Iwanna drop by to say my request, if possible, just a steamy make-out sesh with taehyun after class in the library 😵😖😋

- 💣

between the pages

WHEREIN: you share a heated session with taehyun

彡 pairing: taehyun x gn!reader 彡 genre: suggestive 彡 warnings: make-out sesh, detailed kissing, minor language

SEUL SPEAKS! im so glad u enjoyed blurred boundaries (≧∇≦)ﾉ ur requests didn't have anything specific so i took it to my imagination, anyhow, hope this is what u were looking for! (not proof read)

the library had always been your secret refuge, a place where the noise of the outside world faded away. the hours after class were yours alone, tucked away among the towering shelves. today, the soft afternoon light filtered through the high windows, casting a golden hue on the rows of books.

as the last bell echoed through the quiet halls, taehyun caught your hand, pulling you into your favorite hidden alcove. the air was thick with anticipation. his eyes, dark with longing, met yours as he pressed you gently against the cool wooden shelves.

"missed you," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. before you could respond, his lips claimed yours in a fierce, hungry kiss. it was a kiss that spoke of weeks of suppressed desire, of stolen glances, and unspoken words. his tongue slid against yours, exploring, teasing, and tasting every corner of your mouth. he pulled you closer, his hands roaming your back, fingers tracing intricate patterns as if committing the shape to memory.

your hands found their way into taehyun's hair, tugging gently, eliciting a low groan from him that vibrated against your lips. you deepened the kiss, your tongues dancing in a rhythm that felt both familiar and thrillingly new. taehyun's kisses became more urgent, more insistent, his lips capturing yours again and again, each kiss more demanding than the last.

your breaths mingled, hot and heavy, as taehyun took his time savoring the taste of yours. he nipped at your lower lip, drawing a soft gasp from them before soothing the sting with his tongue. his kisses were a mixture of tender and possessive, making your heart race and your knees weak.

reluctantly, taehyun's lips began to trail away from your mouth, moving to your jawline, then down to the sensitive spot on your neck. his kisses grew more insistent, leaving a trail of heat in your wake. his teeth grazed your skin, eliciting a soft moan that you quickly silenced, aware of your surroundings.

taehyun's hands were everywhere, tracing the curves of your body with a reverence that made your heart race. he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes smoldering with unspoken promises. "you drive me crazy," he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, trailing downward. he kissed along your collarbone, each press of his lips igniting sparks on your skin. his hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, fingers skimming the warm skin there. each touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire that threatened to consume you both. his lips traveled further down, exploring the delicate skin, leaving a path of burning desire in your wake.

taehyun's touch grew bolder, his hands sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing against your ribs, drawing them impossibly closer. his kisses were intoxicating, each one more fervent, more demanding. he nipped at your collarbone, his tongue soothing the marks he left behind, drawing soft whimpers from your lips.

just as taehyun's kisses began to venture lower, the sharp ring of the bell shattered your heated moment. you both froze, breathless and flushed, the spell broken. taehyun rested his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged. "saved by the bell," he muttered with a wry smile.

reluctantly, you straightened your clothes and smoothed your hair, exchanging one last lingering kiss. "until next time," taehyun promised, his voice a low murmur that sent a thrill through you.

© 2024 seoulzie

[thedevillionaire]

Chosen

Much shorter than it has any right to be, given how long it's taken me to actually finish. Plot? Uh, no, not really. But anyhow... She's been away. He's been unwell.

---

He looks at her like she’s the most welcome hallucination he’s ever had.

Kia closes the door slowly behind her as she takes in this chaos of a makeshift apothecary, the loungeroom in an utter state of disarray and her beloved not faring much better, red-nosed and unshaven and dressed in a black silken pyjama and robe ensemble which, while inarguably stylish, was very definitely not his usual late afternoon wear.

And not at all what she had been expecting to come home to.

A miscellany of potions and concoctions and gods-know-what-elses lie scattered across the coffee table. A teacup, mostly empty. Two tissue boxes, one apparently even emptier than the teacup. Some sort of book...no, manual. Looks instructional. A wilderness of failed curatives.

Oh my god.

She walks further into the room. The air smells of menthol and embers.

“Babe, what are… Are you… What have you even been doing h…?”

You absolute beautiful total disaster.

“Trying not to… hh-HH …let thi…this-damn-cold…” Cerberus turns from her as his sentence dissolves, the syllables collapsing against one another in a desperate rush to give way to greater need and deep breath of purpose, and he raises a finger in urgent, undeniable pause. "Huh-TSSCH-uu!" Hurriedly claiming a series of tissues in a brief, expectant hiatus, he surrenders completely and sneezes again. "Hh-AATSCHH-uu! *snff-FF!*" A quiet groan in the aftermath. He excuses himself, adds another tissue to the set, blows his nose and immolates the lot. "Pardon me." He sighs. "Trying not to let this godsdamned cold win,” he manages, with an accompanying sharp sniffle. Neither heavy congestion nor the way his voice cracks slightly lessens any of the seething distaste in his tone.

“Oh, honey.” Kia brushes some errant hair back from his face. :Bless you.: She touches a tender kiss to his temple. “You’re getting your ass kicked.”

She offers him a soft smile to hopefully lessen a little bit of truth's sting. "C'mon, shift over," she says gently as she joins her beloved on the couch, nestling up beside him, resolutely ignoring every caution he tries to give her advising against doing so. Notably half-hearted as those cautions are.

Because while it’s true that he very much doesn’t want her to catch this, he’s also well aware it’s more than likely already too late for such concerns. The entire house is probably some sort of incubation epicentre. And, sincerity of expressed warnings aside, the entire sorry vista surely constitutes warning enough. He's fairly certain he couldn't look more biohazardous if he tried.

Cerberus sighs again, sniffling again immediately afterwards, and gives his bonded a look of resignation.

Further elaboration hardly seems necessary.

But also he doesn’t press the issue because in truth the last thing he wants is to send her away. He’s not even sure he has the energy to insist on it, anyway; he’d be infuriated about this entire ridiculous circumstance if he wasn’t so damn exhausted. So, small obligatory protests done, with another damp sniffle Cerberus shifts some disarrayed blanketry out of the way and wraps an arm around Kia’s waist, drawing her close.

Her soft perfume of violet, strawberry and vanilla is lost on him anywhere outside of memory right now, but her presence is more than enough and he closes his eyes for a moment, just appreciating the simple fact of her being here beside him at last; he's missed her immensely, constantly.

“You know, you could’ve just asked me to come back, if you wanted me here,” Kia muses as she nestles further into his heat, adding, “It wouldn't have been a big deal,” without accusation. She leans her head against his shoulder and looks up at him with gentle azure gaze, her unspoken thoughts of I’d always choose you. How do you still not know that? readable despite her not voicing them.

And he does, of course, know that – in fact, it’s the very reason he wouldn’t ask. Cerberus sniffles thickly, wiping his nose. “Ah, love. I'd hardly ask you to put yourself anywhere near this—" He gestures around the room in a general presentation of contempt for the whole situation. "—vortex of infectious absurdity,” he concludes, thick congestion lacing his words. He clears his throat but it doesn’t make any notable impact against the wreckery his voice has become. "And it's about your... *SNFF!* ...your autodoby."

Kia peers at him. “My…what?”

“Your au…” Cerberus, all too aware that several critical consonants are unequivocally not working for him, rolls his eyes at himself. Honestly. Taking another fresh succession of tissues from a very rapidly depleting supply, he blows his nose forcefully but completely ineffectively.

He excuses himself once more and tries again; it goes equally badly.

Kia, baffled, raises her hands in a friendly but very clear nope sorry babe no idea expression, accompanied by a gentle little laugh that she just can’t help.

A long-suffering and immensely frustrated look comes her way, followed by a resigned, defeated sigh as her beloved entirely gives up. “Free will.”

For a moment, this makes even less sense to Kia. “Why would…” she begins, but cuts herself off in triumphant realisation. “Oh, autonomy!” She laughs. "Oh, sweetheart."

“That’s what I s… hh-hh! I...” And even this is hijacked, and the Demon king capitulates entirely, doubling over desperate into crooked elbow, “Huh-TSCHH-uu! Ah-HEHTSCHuu!” 

He takes some moments of bleary recovery, Kia's heartrate spiking alongside the :Gods, forgive me: Cerberus Mindsends her.

"Oh, bless you, babe." Kia doesn't try to fight the thrill that flashes through her and she wraps herself around her bonded to kiss him again; a kiss deeper, more needful, than is probably wise. But wisdom isn't what she's craving right now.

“You know what? You’re going to stop talking and let me make my own choices.” She brushes a stray lock of hair from his eyes, touches the softest of lingering kisses to his forehead and meets his gaze. :Talking really isn't working out for you anyway.: "And besides—" Another kiss, deeper again, and she presses her arousal against his, salacious, wanton.

:—you know we both want the same thing.:

---

[lamentofabramo]

Hi, no idea if you write for this but uh really hyperfixated on call of duty and I love König.

Kind of just want to see some biblically accurate terrifying König. Maybe you being forced to spar with him, and he hurts you really badly (bonus points for gore)

This reminds me of one fanfic I was recommended to read. Its not finished but its begging to be posted or else I’ll just leave it to die in the drafts. MINORS DNI. KÖNIG There was nothing honourable about what König was. Not good enough to be a sniper yet intense enough to be an insertion specialist. He was ruthless, a silent monster. You'd seen the way he treated other soldiers with a lack of compassion nor understanding at even the most ruinous of life events, never lifting the mask to show humanity or giving his sympathy.

And that's why you were now found under him after one bad enough argument that led to him wanting to 'see' how you were better than he in his decisions with his troops. His rough hands dug like sandpaper against your throat, unyielding in his grip. Each digit pressed into your throat as though he wanted to rip it open. You couldn't breathe, and were quickly losing the ability to move.

You weakly tried to claw at his chest as though you were a wild animal, almost ripping the heavy-duty fabric in the process. Not only that, but you couldn't scream, nor ask the other soldiers just watching to help. Instead, you weakly tried to pull off the mask, exposing his gritted maw. For a fleeting moment, your eyes locked, a silent exchange of fear and savagery passing between you.

He was going to kill you.

There was no doubt about it, no bone in his body seemed to be screaming at his conscience to stop before he did something he couldn’t take back. König had done this before, no doubt. Not one part of him was scared of the consequences.

In that instant, his hand left your throat, in which you managed to choke out a breath. Your body was starving for it like a lifeline, each inhale was a battle against the threat of suffocation. Yet, that hope for morality was soon ebbed out. König's seized your skull in a vice-like grip, slamming it against the mat below them both, hard enough for it to crush the foam.

A moment of silence followed, broken only by the sounds of gasps around you two, like an ant mill. He didn't seem to care anyhow, his hands now giving you long-lasting marks burrowed deep into the flesh. His breath suddenly invaded your already on fire senses. Sweat and iron stung your nostrils, every inhale brought upon a suffocating heaviness, yet you couldn't muster up the strength to flee. The air was dense and acrid, carrying an active warning.

Your skin prickles with unease, a dread where you knew you couldn't flee from the impending threat. Then he speaks:

"You don't believe in me.” He whispered, it was barely audible yet laden with malice, each syllable carried its own weight, a sinister gravity that threatened you into the abyss. The venom was potent in the air, coating your tongue and filling your mouth with an urgent plea for escape.

Or perhaps that was the blood trickling down from your nose, the iron scent suddenly making sense. He'd somehow made you bleed, your nose was dripping into the back of your throat. It made you nauseous, delirious even. You couldn't even check the damage.

[fxtalitygod]

Hɪs Pʀᴇsᴇɴᴄᴇ

Pairing: Husband!Gojo Satoru x Spouse!Gn!Reader

Synopsis: You hear the cries of someone in immeasurable pain and find yourself compelled by the situation. Why were you doing nothing? And why did you call his name when he was never there to begin with?

Genre: Angst...just Angst...

Warnings: Heavy angst (NO COMFORT sorry not sorry), JJK chapter 236 SPOILERS, depictions of extreme grief, UNEDITED

Word Count: 800+

A/n: So I thought of doing this as a fem!reader because of a twist I had in mind, but I thought "Why not make this even more painful for everyone?" (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

P.S. I know it may seem that I decided to project my own pain into this one-shot after reading jjk 236...but that's only because I decided to project my own pain into this one-shot after reading jjk 236!

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules•

You heard the screams and cries of someone in immense grief and suffering, hearing their chokes and gargles as they screamed out for their loved one. You couldn’t help but feel pity for the poor soul as you listened to their cries of agony. ‘Whoever they lost must have died tragically,’ you thought as the screams continued. Amid the pain you heard, a burning sensation crawled up your throat, feeling bile rise in your esophagus before swallowing it back down. You couldn’t understand why you were having this reaction as you continued to listen to their misery. You wish you could comfort them as their nails began an audible and apparent clawing of the mahogany floor beneath them, but you couldn’t. You didn’t even know where the individual resided– you could only hear their despair from a distance; however, the sobs were nearby. You couldn’t tell where the cries resonated from, so you only listened.

You were aware of rudeness and indecency in listening to this person’s suffering, but you could not help it, stuck in your current position. You wished that Satoru was here to drag you away from this situation. Your husband seemed to know when you needed to be removed from an overwhelming scenario when you couldn’t perform that action on your own accord. Where was Satoru anyhow? Now that you think of it, you haven’t seen him in quite a while. When you spoke to him last, he told you an urgent mission had been assigned to him, parting with a kiss before stating he would be back soon. You tried to recollect how long it had been since that conversation, but the time was lost on you no matter how hard you tried to remember.

“It’s a damn lie!” the voice screamed, trying to convince themselves that the news wasn’t real.

God, you wished that Satoru was here to pull you away from this individual’s guttural cries because you didn’t have the strength to leave them, hoping that your presence would be enough– if they even acknowledged your company. What could you even do or say in this situation?

“This isn’t real,” they choked.

That was your last straw. Although it wasn’t entirely your place, you went to comfort the person. You opened your mouth to let your words of comfort leave your lips, but those words never came. You couldn’t even speak as the only thing that left your lips was…

“Satoru!”

Why did you scream his name? Your husband was nowhere in sight. Where was he? He’s still on his mission, right? Why call out for him when you knew he wasn’t present?

You sat there questioning your reasoning for calling for your lover until you lost your balance, hitting something next to you. Before you could identify what you had touched, a familiar voice spoke to you; however, the sound quality was muffled and not entirely current.

“Y/n-sama…god, I don’t know how to tell you this,” the voice paused, letting out a heavy sigh as they chose their following words, “Gojo Sensei…Satoru is gone. Sukuna, he…well he, I’m sorry I can’t do this.”

The message cuts off there.

Now you get it– you were the one screaming in grief. The burning in your throat was caused by your harsh cries as you called out to your lost lover, your life-long partner. You were the individual in denial as you ruled over the voice message Yuta had sent. The three words the student had stated sunk into your soul, cutting you deeper as they repeated themselves.

"Satoru is gone."

"God, please no," you weakly pled as your cries subsided to whimpers.

You looked at the surface area around you, scratch marks from where your nails had dug into the floor boards, puddles of tears, and saliva from your disheveled crying. You looked at your hands, covered in blood from the splinters that pierced the flesh of your palms– you were a mess. You looked ahead to see the mirror neatly placed in what was once your shared bedroom, seeing your messy hair, tear-stained cheeks, and swollen eyes as they grew red with irritation from the uncontrollable tears that continued to spill from them.

"I can't wait for Papa to come home," a child shouted in the distance, "I want to show him my new drawing!"

Your breath hitched as you heard the child speak. It was your little girl– she had been left in the care of your sibling when you went to take the call that you happened to miss. If only your partner was here to explain it to her because you were never good at explaining such circumstances. You couldn't word it in a way that wouldn't break a child's heart. Satoru could– there were moments when your significant other had a way with words, especially when your daughter was involved. He knew how to make her smile.

But he wasn't here, and that was the problem.

[noa-ciharu]

🔞 fyolai +BDSM + pathetic sub Nikolai / sadistic dom Fyodor + "staying quiet was never your strongest suit, wasn't it?"

Mini fic under cut bc nsfw

Fyodor's sadism was no novelty, but experiencing his cruelty firsthand was the whole different kettle of fish. Bit vainly Nikolai thought he could take anything Fyodor throws at him - oh how in the wrong he was.

"Fyodor please", wretched beg, humbling how desperate he sounded. Nothing could be done - hands bound behind back with most rigid chains, collar dug too tightly into neck, metallic cage pressed against swollen cock - of course he went up the walls. "It's been two hours", Nikolai wailed further; squeezed eyes and thrust up. Miracle groin hasn't exploded by now seeing how infuriatingly hard he's been all this time; how ruthlessly teased.

Sly snicker made shiver run down spine. Fyodor circled around him, like predatory around captured game. "Has it already?", silken purr got him twitching and leaking more; thighs completely drenched by now. Whip traced above tender vibrating skin on back, mere sensation induced quivers and gasps; mere anticipation. Fyodor tipped his chin up with a boot, smirked down on him and taunted - "Felt like two minutes to me"

Rather than kicking or degrading Fyodor combed through his hair; had to yank harshly enough to turn him on. Tug went straight to Nikolai's groin. He throbbed as if he's about to finish but could not - cage didn't let him. Frustration mashed with pure animalistic desire; heat was overwhelming. Nikolai grinded teeth, dug nails into palms and desperately rocked up - tried to bring himself off anyhow; futile, he painted a needy pathetic picture thrusting caged cock mid air. Each time he's alarmingly close Fyodor would retrace all touch and leave him hanging until orgasmic bliss passes; then start teasing and whipping all over again, until he's drooling and groaning whatever tickles Fyodor's fancy.

Dry chuckle, nothing but ice in sultry gaze. Fyodor's dominant side was an unholy turn on - just his woes he came to learn that at debasing price. This was more than just a sexual thrill; reducing him to whimpering quivering mess stroked Fyodor's ego. Whip skimmed over thighs, brushed against cage; had Nikolai jerking from anticipation of pain alone, albeit there were none - he was being led on. All nerves in body tingled, each sensation heightened ungodly much - mere caress over arm enkindled flame. Another snicker combined with gentle caresses informed just how much Fyodor got off on rewiring his innate responses by installing sense of longing and fear inside of him.

As on cue he flinched when Fyodor leaned forwards. Beyond infuriating how easily his body was manipulated, stripped of freedom; but nothing could be done. Those icy fingers trailed over padlock; no point in attempting to hold back needy moans. Fyodor tugged the collar so sharply Nikolai's vision swam; didn't give him a second, right away forced to gaze into unnerving eyes - "Do you understand now why you'll never be free of longing?"

Yes. If he were any less gone Nikolai would have attempted wising off. In vain, needs were so urgent only obtaining release mattered. Nikolai was left with no option but to step over all values, squeeze eyes and nod frantically - held onto hope Fyodor would finally show some resemblance of mercy and let him obtain long denied orgasm.

"Good", purred Fyodor into ear and caressed cheek; tenderness nothing short of distraction for upcoming whip over chest. Nikolai cried out and bent over; pain melted into sweet arousal, had him gasping and drooling. Skin heated and sweaty, covered in nothing but shivers and marks - never before has he been this oversensitive; this worked up and reactive to slightest friction. But then again, he's never waited this long for an orgasm before, so it wasn't surprising at all.

Clang of cage coming undone was ballad to Nikolai's ears. Gosh, he didn't dare even hope. Not a second to recollect himself - right away Fyodor curled fingers around painfully swollen shaft and stroked with speed meant to bring off. Nikolai's mind short-circuited.

He threw head backwards, squeezed eyes and cried out while frenziedly rocking into Fyodor's cold touch; friction equally delighted and ached after all merciless edging. But this amount of raw pleasure... oh gosh. It was tasking to as much as form a coherent thought. Sensuality this powerful rendered mind unthinking. All that Nikolai was aware of was how badly throat ached from groaning and gasping. "Pleasepleasepleaseeee-"

"Staying quiet was never your strongest suit, wasn't it?", whispered so huskilly yet mockery couldn't be more glaring; as well as intrigue.

Seeing for how long he's been denied it didn't come as a surprise merely couple strokes were enough to push him over the edge. Nikolai kept on thrusting into Fyodor's hand, uncaring how animalistically he was acting. Yes, Fyodor did all this to step over his philosophy and shove into his face how he'll never be nearly as free as wishes to; at heart Nikolai knew later on he'd berate himself for being duped so easily, seduced even. However at the moment he could only focus on pleasure building and building inside groin as if he's about to burst and - oh gosh.

There's no stopping it. Cock twitched uncontrollably, balls so heavy he felt like crying his soul out; if Fyodor edges him now Nikolai was confident he'd snap for good and muster strength to rip chains off. Thankfully it didn't come to that; smirking and drinking in his every grunt and whine Fyodor kept on stroking him. Simultaneously hooked finger into collar's o-ring and guided his head down. Even if dizzy it briefly crossed Nikolai's mind he'd end up ejaculating into own face but he absolutely couldn't hold it in any longer.

With a feral growl Nikolai thrust up for the last time and finally began emptying himself - right over Fyodor's hand and own face. Gosh. This was so messy. So sticky, uncomfortably hot and gunky. Warm cum mixed with sweat and saliva, had him torn between blissful smile from finally relieving himself and squinching from giving himself a facial. Considering how long he waited for climax of course he pumped out a lot; sensuality was so mindblowing Nikolai couldn't stop own body from craving to let it all out; nor could stop himself from groaning, thence some of cum getting inside mouth. Such vile taste, yet nastiness of this all enticed - especially as Fyodor himself came up with the idea.

Eventually he stopped releasing; lethargically fell down on knees, doubled over as much as chained wrists permitted and panted. Fyodor pulled away, stood up and inspected own soiled hand with a judging frown. "Oh my", hummed and tipped Nikolai's chin up with the boot. "You made quite a mess" - ridiculed his cum stained flushed face with light probe.

Vision hazy, heart hammering inside head, dire need for breath dulling senses - yet all Nikolai could focus on were those violet piercing eyes. "No better than a dog", flashing a derisive smile Fyodor provoked further.

"I'm afraid I'll keep you chained for a bit more" - as you should, because no amount of praying will help you once I'm off leash.

[karriethemechtech]

*URGENT!*

My WHM-6R’s left arm actuator is on the fritz AGAIN! The damn thing keeps wanting to do a 20th century disco impression versus being a straight shooter and it keeps costing me.

Last Batchall my ass nearly found itself as a bondsman to a hyper lethal yet admittedly gorgeous Ghost Bear Star Captain driving a Loki Prime. Like, ok, I admit she did have a rather cute radio voice and it might not have been the worst fate ever but it was exceedingly difficult for either of us to take combat bidding seriously when my mech looks more like Elvis doing his signature “wind up” move versus a mighty machine of war.

We ended up just settling for a pizza eating contest (which I barely won) if you’re wondering how it all went. We did agree I would pay the tab in exchange for me being her +1 at a football game next week. I admit I am rather excited for the prospect. Bargained and done as they say.

I somehow doubt that ex-Jade Falcon turned solo bandit that I have a contract on will be as generous.

Anyhow, Warhammer arm actuator glitches, kindly and thank you!

Hey, thanks for calling in!

First of all, nice to see some old hardware like that still floating around. I bet you and I would get along nicely—you’re ever near Terra or wherever I’m deployed hit me up and we’ll get a drink, talk ‘Mechs. It’ll be fun!

Second of all I think there’s your problem—your Warhammer is ancient. Unless you can prove it otherwise I’m willing to put some money that ‘Mech’s hundreds of years old. You can’t just treat an old thing like that like another piece of military hardware! You’re basically driving around a museum piece. No shame in that, so do I! You just gotta know how to treat them.

Anyway, here’s what you should do. What you’re probably looking at is either in the command wiring or in the drivers running on the ‘Mech’s central computer. I had the same issue when I pulled my Awesome from the junkyard—getting stuck in odd positions. Dunno why it happens, it’s different for each case—could be the drives degrading over time or could be someone else’s repair putting two “incompatible” parts together. Either way, I’ll send you a file with the patch I wrote in and a new wiring layout for your ‘Techs to try, should bypass whatever block you have. You should also check the myomers, see if they’re knotted or fried, and swap those out if you need to.

Should about cover it! Hope that helps ya.

—Karrie

[goatcheese-anon]

Urgent thing I need to share before my ADHD brain forgets:

Harry Potter Post-war Breaking Bad AU:

Snape survived, but since Voldemort is dead, the Dark Marks are slowly killing all the remaining Death Eaters, something Voldy did as a failsafe. And like, let's take into consideration that Harry is quite literally a War Veteran and has some tremendous PTSD, and he probably doesn't know how to cope, and now starts taking Muggle drugs.

So now we have the slowly-dying-'chemistry' -Professor and the horrible-at-'chemistry' -ex-student-now-junky.

The motive for Snape to start making that stuff is still a bit wonky, but it would probably be to leave something for Hogwarts.. Or for his godson Draco.. Yk,,

Anyhow, let's assume he has a motive to do this for now. Maybe he wanted to visit Harry for old times sake, since yk their history and all, and he ends up discovering that Harry became an addict to a Muggle drug.

You know the drill. Lots of discouragement and fighting, until Snape, who is admittedly a bit impressed that Harry was able to make that stuff in the first place, gives in and makes a magical equivalent. Now, that's where the whole fun begins.

I didn't even think about it until now, but it would 100% result in Severitus.

I'm just imagining the two of them sitting in an old Muggle Camper-van, Snape with a cauldron instead of Muggle chemistry equipment, complaining about the size of the thing when it could be magically enhanced, Harry, who keeps telling him that it's more convenient that way in case someone's after them so they'll reach the steering wheel faster.. And the best part is the magical elements in this story. Police AND Aurors would be after them, Kingpins like Tuco Salamanca or Gus Fring could also be Wizards (Gus as a Wizard would GENUINELY be terrifying.), and the whole thing overall would be so much more exciting.

The Weasleys would 100% help Harry sell the stuff.

Anyhow, this concludes this madness for now.

[binah-beloved]

So I know you HC that Binah won't let you anywhere near the Well (yes I've read the whole blog basically in one sitting because... I need more Binah in my system.) But consider this

She avoids you assisting her with extractions as much as she can. Maybe she sends you off with "urgent" reports to other sefirot (the higher the floor, the better), whenever she has to draw from the Well. But she can't keep this up forever. You DO want to be at her side when she has to go through THIS nightmarish task. Anyhow you do end up assisting her. How does that make her feel? Maybe your presence anchors her to reality and keeps her sane more than she'd care to admit? Maybe she instinctively covers your eyes at some point without even realizing it?

we all need more Binah in our systems

when the day finally comes that you're by her side, the only thing Binah feels is fear. it's not something she usually experiences, as even degraded Arbiters are stronger than anyone needs to be, but she knows the sharp pain in her chest is fear, cold and unyielding. you're so fragile- even the best weapons and gear she gives you won't be able to defend you from the Well- but you're also so stubborn, insisting that you accompany her

"No one should have to do this alone". that's what you told her, and what you stand by. so reluctantly she brings you to the Well, watching its waters illuminate your features in an emerald glow and telling you to stay close

the task hurts as always, eating away at her thoughts and tearing bits of her identity away. but this time, you're there, standing beside her and holding her hand; every time you squeeze her fingers, the pain relents just slightly, and Binah feels like she can breathe again. when you take a step closer to her for comfort she carefully pulls you into her arms, tucking her cloak around your shoulders- you can stay in there for the entire time, if you'd like. she doesn't mind. you make sure to give her a soft hug when you feel her stiffen, the only indication that she's in distress, and after a moment her muscles unclench and her hand comes down to caress your own, wrapped around her waist

finally everything ends once more, a sigh of relief slipping from your lips as you leave the room. your head feels blurred and heavy until a hand rests on top of it, a glint of emotion in Binah's eyes as she quietly thanks you for what you've done today, and before she leaves she gives your hand a small, tender squeeze

you don't notice the single tear that drips from her eye when she turns away

[carrickbender]

Sunday(a 7)

- So it's been a busy week. The mill called, and I'm now working 2 security shifts a week at the guard shack for a good wage. It's a start, and the CEO is talking January to commence the restart process. I've had 1 job interview that I crushed, one company that I really think would be a great fit hot on my heels, and another bridge job interviewing tomorrow. All of you sending your good energy, yall are making this road so much easier. Much love!!!

- in a related note, I'm also going in tomorrow to start my emergency substitute teacher application. My mom, who is a funny one, teaches locally and her words were, "you could work every day here and it'll keep you going". If nothing else, I'll be up and running with that by January, and between a couple nights at the mill and that, we will be just fine.

- H, being the squirrel she is, has come through with some $$$ for the house and I've never been more thankful that my partner is as committed to our goals as I am. I'm just glad, to be honest...

- I missed @jackiesayz when she was up here , and was so close by... H has been so sick, and the day I really wanted to get in touch we had to go to urgent care. She's fine now, thankfully, but I really wanted to meet up. Next time, and next time you and your sister are coming out for salmon!!!! (And for anyone else, that goes for you too!!!!)

- So 2 weeks ago, I finally saw my urologist and he literally was in the room for 5 mins. And the more I think about it, the more angry I become... Take a little time to listen to your patients, because if I'm telling you that it hurts to urinate but I don't have an STI and you still don't think anything is wrong with me? Yeah, I probably will go elsewhere.

- I almost got in 2 car accidents today, one of which almost ended up with a fight...

Speeding in parking lots. Don't do it...

Anyhow, there have already been 2 house fires TONIGHT in my funny little town, one had a possible, and I'm going to blame the moon. People are just feral...

- my mom turns 65 in December,and it's kinda messing me up. Her parents died pretty young thanks to tobacco(and her mom could have prevented her stroke with some lifestyle changes), so it's hitting her too. I just would really like to have both of my parents to hang around so that both can be ancestors for Henry and not ghosts. I mean, for the first time, it feels like both actually respect the person I've become and am becoming. I just want them to hold on a bit longer... selfish, isn't it?

Anyhow, bless you if you are still reading this. I wasn't kidding when I said your thoughts and energy were helping. I'm gonna put on a little music, drink some water, eat a cookie, set the fawcet on a drip, then go to bed. Much love to you all, and peace be with you.

[youwouldntlietopapa]

Can I request “I can't face this alone” with soft Secondo please 🫶🏻

I really hope this is okay! @lurancyvenom

Secondo x Reader, fluff, no smut, hurt/comfort

_____________________________________________________________

What had begun as a bad week had steadily grown into a bad month and then a bad year. Each new bit of world shattering news, every bump in the road, every day clouded by hurt was a knife in Secondo’s heart. Watching you suffer was a kind of pain he’d never really experienced before. Not quite so deeply anyhow. It was much worse knowing that it was so far out of his control. That you needed comfort he didn’t feel he was capable of giving.

But, Satanas, he tried. Determined to help however he could. For a man with an inflexible adherence to his schedule and very strict rules about his work life, he’d been taking more and more time off. Leaving his office early. Going in late. Using his somewhat limited official authority to excuse you from duties and his even more limited authority as Primo’s younger brother to ask room be made for you in the gardens to work with him. Fortunately, his older brother agreed that the sunshine and the plants would be a good distraction. If nothing else, the fresh air couldn’t hurt and Secondo would feel better knowing someone is keeping an eye on you.

From there, things felt like they’d been improving. Not completely or quickly, but improving steadily. Little by little. The desperate need to help in some way, any way felt less urgent and all consuming. He’d even began planning a vacation. Just the two of you, some real time away. Some place warm and private with a beach to yourselv-

“Secondo.”

The sound of Primo’s voice stopped him in his tracks. The tone, however, made his blood run cold. He reluctantly turned around, fighting the irrational thought that if he didn’t hear whatever the problem was, it wouldn’t exist. If it were a problem with Terzo or Copia, he wouldn’t have sounded so much like he was holding back and he knew better than to bring Nihil problems to him. Which left one clear option.

“Non lo dire.”

“Go back to your quarters, fratello. I make excuses for you this afternoon.” Primo stepped closer and patted his arm. “She doesn’t need the garden today. She needs you.”

“What happened?” His scowl deepening. “Chi è il responsabile?”

“Questo non è un problema che puoi risolvere con i pugni.”

They both walked to Secondo’s office while his brother explained. He decided it was best to shed his formal robes and his paints there. This wasn’t a Papa problem and he didn’t want to keep you waiting any longer than is necessary. Once cleaned up and down to his plain black shirt and trousers, he walks back to his own rooms.

Inside, it was dark, but he’d expected that. He kicked off his shoes by the door and padded silently across the large room, No sign of you on the couch could only mean one thing. It was hard to find any triumph in being right, when what he found was you, a blanket covered lump, softly crying into your pillow.

Carefully, so carefully, he sat himself on the edge of the bed, lying down and rolling over to press up against your back. “Amore…” His voice was soft and gentle. He tugged back the blanket just enough to see your hair and your ear, poking out from the ruin of your hairdo. “I… I talk to Primo…”

His arm wrapped around your side, hugging you closer, lightly kissing your neck. Humming deeply, he rubbed your arm, just trying to give you something to hold on to. At very least, your sniffled, gasping breaths had slowed. And, after some more quiet patience, you rolled over to press up against his chest. Secondo wrapped himself around you protectively. Primo was right, he couldn’t fight this problem with fists, be he’d be damned if he wouldn’t still try. “Ho te, amore mio. È tutto a posto.”

“I need it to stop. Please. Please. I can’t take any more.” You pleaded and cried, even knowing that his powers don’t stretch quite that far.

“I know, tesoro. I know.” His fingers combed through your hair and he kissed your forehead. “If I could make it stop, I would. I swear to you. I would throw myself to the pit if it would stop your suffering. I hope the last was the last, and now more. Too much for il mio amore più prezioso.”

“I can’t face this alone.” Your voice cracked and you buried your face in his chest. “I can’t… I can’t…”

“Shhhh… Shhhh…” His warm hand cradled the back of your head. “I can’t face this alone either, amore. None of this. So what do we do, eh? We don’t face alone. We face together, si? You are here when I fight my demons, and I am here when you fight yours. Always. I don’t leave, not now. Not later. I stay right here, with you. No matter what.”

You sniffled a little more, hiding your face. “You’ve been putting up with all of this for… months. I don’t… I don’t want to be a burden.”

“No.” He said a little sharply. “No, you don’t say that. You hear what I say to you?” Secondo catches your chin and pulls your gaze up to look into his own. “You are no burden. When you are hurting, I am hurting. When you are struggle, I am struggle. And together we find a way to get through. Both of us. But all of this? All this… shit? Is not your fault. You don’t ask for this, you don’t deserve. So why would I blame you?”

“Thank you…” You whispered softly.

He kissed your forehead once more. “How about this? We stay here. I tell a ghoul to bring some food. You sleep. And we see if things are maybe just a little better in the morning?”

You nodded, not really in the mood for much more talk than that. Secondo didn’t seem to mind. He carefully adjusted your pillow, got himself in a good spot, and hugged you tightly against his chest.

“Non affronterai nulla da solo, amore mio. Non lo permetterò mai. Hai la mia parola.”

_____________________________________________________________

Chi è il responsabile? = Who is responsible?

Questo non è un problema che puoi risolvere con i pugni. = This is not a problem you can solve with your fists.

Ho te, amore mio. È tutto a posto. = I have you, my love. It's all right.

Non affronterai nulla da solo, amore mio. Non lo permetterò mai. Hai la mia parola. = You will face nothing alone, my love. I will never allow it. You have my word.

[loverofstufflof]

The Lord Deer Demon

Megapolis’ most sane doctor

Dr. Bài works at a hospital in the Megapolis Bhikkhu district. Being one of the few clinics that understands demon biology, they get a lot of traffic from all walks of life.

Including the occasional visit with a squad of heroes after their brushes with death.

Unfortunately, Dr. Bài has a rocky history with one of their mentors.

Is it really so bad that he wants to put his past behind him? To live happily with his daughter, and save lives as he’s always wanted? Why does this scheming, knifing, stupid monkey need to be all up in his business?!

He doesn’t know anything about the Bone Demon, so just leave him be, already! There’s a woman downstairs that urgently needs her daily dose of freshly extracted heart and—yes he is still using that method! It works and who cares if a few stupid mortals die in the process?!

-

Bài Lùjing, more accurately known as the White Deer Spirit, is a blorbo I’ve been working on for quite some time now. He’s meant to be my idea of how the show could incorporate the actual JTTW villain.

For those whose knowledge of JTTW antagonists extends as far as OSP episodes (/pos) Lùjing appears as the main villain in the Kingdom of Sons arc.

The king of the land has fallen deathly ill and is desperate for whatever source of immortality he can get. His advisor, the White Deer Spirit, informs him that consuming 1,111 hearts of young sons will bring him back to health.

However, when the pilgrims arrive, Tripitaka’s heart should be hearty enough to do it instantly, because, you know, reincarnation of Golden Cicada.

As you can imagine, this section is very gorey, chaotic, and a great opportunity for Wukong to flex his body horror skills. My favourite arc of the whole book.

A lot went into the design to figure out how LEGO would make his story more palatable for younger audiences, how they would fit him into the futuristic city LMK takes place in, how they would anglicize his name, and so on.

I don’t feel like giving too much away because I’m honestly kinda proud of how I built his character and want to reveal his backstory in a cool, dramatic way, but I will say this:

His surname is very, very relevant.

Anyhow, this is my propaganda piece for the @lmk-oc-competition ! You can vote for him to win a duel to the death! Make sure to give the other creators some love, too! This is just a friendly competition, after all :]

[theoasiswinds]

Update time!

Hey darlings! I have 2 commissions left and then I am all caught up! Super excited, sorry I haven't been posting a lot of art here, a lot of work I've recently done is private. I've only had time to sketch and do commissions, I've been busy with a mom routine.

Anyhow for update, my surgery for now is being postponed, since we found out my son also needs a small surgery. It's nothing major I believe he has his pre-op today. And then we'll find out when he will have his surgery. And I need to be there for him 100% and once he is healed and ready to be his happy energy filled self again, I'll schedule my surgery.

Now an update on my health, I still have issues with the endometriosis, but since I changed my diet and mind you, I still eat forbidden foods when I'm weak... Not often but stress makes me want bread.... I'm weak. ... Ahem. But for sure I've had no coffee since I posted about the diet change, that's a big one since the medicine stays in my gut longer to be more effective so that helps with my thyroid and i feel so much better, also changing my diet has helped my the autoimmune and my stomach isn't as swollen any more, and my feet and hands aren't swollen anymore, and bigger plus, it's rare for my hands to shake as before so I can do more traditional art again without worrying about shaking hands. I don't have pain every time I eat and that's helped with the endometriosis since there is less pressure, so that's really cool. Still need surgery, but it's not as painful therefore not as urgent.

As for my book, I'm still working on it and also have ordered some custom merchandise for it like stickers, keychains and magnets, but I'm actually looking into making my own stickers because I want high quality big huge stickers..... So I'll be dabbling into that soon hopefully. And do special MPO gift give away as well.

Again sorry for not posting as much art as before, I do hope everything goes smoothly enough to post more art and fan art as well.

As always you guys thank you so much for all your support! It means so much to me and my small family!

[recitedemise]

You know, I'm not overly fond of god!Gale.

But you know what I AM fond of? The inherent angst. How Gale pursued godhood to be better for others. If romanced, how he did so to give everything, perfection, all the stars to them.

How, when romanced, they don't want to ascend with him. How he's no longer mortal or feels the way mortals should, but how that rejection somehow unmoors this deeply unsettling plane in his heart.

His heart? A last kiss, at the very least. A last kiss that drags on, that tastes bitter, should taste bitter, and warps something vulnerable and pained inside him. How they lay him down, how they gasp into his mouth, how he feels gods shouldn't bow to mortals. Shouldn't be made to. How asking, pleading them to stay with him is beneath his station, beneath a god, but—

It's okay, he tells himself. They card their hands through his hair, something urgent crowding in the base of his spine, something broken and empty and hungry and wrecked in his chest. It's okay. Maybe this is beneath him, maybe, he whimpers, but it's okay: he's beneath them, and they were his god anyhow.

[wascallywabbit1938]

Hello 👋 🤗,

I hope you are well 🌺.

I am writing to you with a heart full of hope and faith, asking for your urgent help. My family is in great danger due to the war, and I am running a fundraising campaign to save them.

Please, could you reblog the post about my campaign on my account? Every share can make a difference in my family's life. 🙏

Note:My old Tumblr account was deactivated💔, and I need your support again♥️.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for any help you can provide. 🌹🌺

Not sure if this is legit but i'll post it anyhow