#but I am still keeping up my routine of 'encouraging people to follow me at platforms outside of social media' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mmoonpies · 1 year

Note

Okay okay I saw that you're taking requests and then SPENCER R3ID ARE YOU KIDDING, love that guy honestly sooo could you maybe do something where the reader is also in the bau and spencer and them have been dating for years (like from s1 to like s4 idk ) and only Aaron knows (because he obviously has to know for work reasons) and the team somehow finds out and are like wtf since when and then spencer says 4 years and blah blah days and so on you get the drill

i literally love him sm. him + fluff is my fav thing!!

also sorry this is lowkey sloppy + unedited

spencer reid was nothing short of being described as introspective; gentle and withdrawn eve. his mind was constantly running, comfortable focusing on his inner thoughts and ideas, drawn to the corners of the wall as he willingly let other people's shadows tower over him.

despite the uncontrollable bursts of facts that fall from his tongue before dissolving into a stuttering ramble, he was pretty withdrawn. often refusing to go 'socialising' with the other bau members, preferring to stay within the comfort of his apartment to read and write.

that was until he met you.

your smile was toothy, lips sharply curved into a grin as your eyes shimmered with a playfulness he yearned for. you had no problem being in the "spotlight" voice loud and almost boastful as you bashfully took control of the room. you were loyal, unafraid to protect those you loved; even if it would end in your peril.

your greetings were filled with enthusiasm, followed by your signature grin, despite being 4am in the morning, only fuelled the other's disdain as they winced and clutched their coffee tighter. spencer's eyes would rest on your face from across the room, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he felt the urge to smile at your bubbliness.

spencer once thought you'd be attracted to someone as confident as you, willing to show you off and flaunt your skills whenever possible. when, in reality, it was the opposite; you were searching for someone you could show off.

you were the one to listen with undivided attention to his over-the-top explanations, eyes wide and attentive as you smiled at him when his voice died off, encouraging him to keep speaking. it made his chest swell, cheeks growing warm as hesitantly gripped at his fingers, playing with them as he nervously continued his explanation.

you were the one who dropped a coffee off at his desk with a small smiley face messily drawn on the side, shooting him a bright grin before bouncing off to your desk. spencer would keep his palms wrapped around the cup, silently treasuring the drawing meant for him.

it became a routine - you sent a coffee his way each morning, and in return, spencer would offer half of his sandwich to you after you walked him through a 'tour' of your lunch. you would give him a generous serving of your lunch, and he would gratefully eat it, no matter the taste.

and to be honest, he wasn't sure when a full sandwich became 'too much' for him, always craving whatever concoction you had created after each half of his sandwich. he wasn't sure when he became so fond of you, patiently and hopefully waiting for you to bound over towards him, fists clenched in front of your shoulders as you beamed up at him.

"spencer, you will not believe how excited i am for lunch today!"

"i think i can," spencer would smile back, eyebrows raising as you bit your lip, grin still toothy and bright. "what've you got today?"

"can't tell you," you squinted up at him, giggling like a devious child. "you have to wait until lunch, but trust me, it'll blow your silly mismatched socks off!"

"hey! what'd they ever do to you?!"

it had stayed that way for 4 years; every single day, without missing a beat. no matter the time or day, you never failed to bring him c coffee with a smiley face, just like he had never failed to give you half of his sandwich.

being with you came as easy as breathing, although he struggled to convey his emotions, both physically and verbally, you both confided in the action of sharing lunch together. he hardly touched you at work, not wanting to seem unprofessional and upset hotchner or anyone on the team.

the only words hotchner had said in relation to the two of you were practically unthreatening. yet, as spencer shyly stood behind you as hotchner processed the information, the sickly feeling of dread spread throughout the inner lining of spencer's stomach.

"don't let it interfere with your work," he demanded, eyebrows furrowed as usual. you both gushed out 'thank you' before turning to leave, the stress of hiding it washing off the two of your shoulder's.

spencer, for 4 years, had assumed hotch had announced it to everyone else on the team. he still dealt with derek's teasing about him being a 'virgin' and his constant jabs about his 'experience with women.'

he was honestly just glad nothing had changed; your routine stayed the same, your glances lingering a little longer than usual, and your smiley faces turning into hearts. but that was all.

spencer was currently cursing his wonky alarm, almost tripping over his own feet as he struggled to pull his own pants up. a slice of bread was caught between his teeth as he slung his satchel over his shoulder before rushing out the door of his apartment.

he was cursing his dumb decision to skip crashing over at your apartment, fingers smashing against the buttons of his cell phone as he called you back, wincing at the number of missed calls he had.

"hey, hey! i'm so sorry y/n, please just tell them i'll be there soon. my alarm didn't go off!"

"i told you it needs new batteries-"

"is now the time to say 'i told you so'?" spencer practically whined in your ear, a small smile curving at your lips as you giggled.

"got it, just get here as quick as you can." you murmured in response before flipping your phone shut, lifting your head up to meet the inquisitive gaze of four profilers staring right at you. "he slept in, he'll be here in about 5 minutes."

"the spencer reid being late? that's a first," emily teased, flipping through the case file in front of her. hotch's facial expression was the same as always; eyes slightly narrowed and eyebrows creasing inwards with his lips stretched into a thin line.

"everyone's allowed to be late," hotch shrugged as he stepped in front of the projector, grabbing one of the files scattered over the round table. "once."

you almost snorted at the delivery, shoulders hunching over as you caught yourself, swallowing your laugh. you caught derek's eye just as the door behind you swung open, a flustered spencer basically clambering through the doorway.

"sorry, sorry! i'm so sorry i'm late!" his voice was pitched, bowing his head at hotch before walking over to you. his brain was still recovering from his interrupted and rushed morning, a cloud of haziness hovering over his brain as he leant down and pressed a kiss to your temple. "sorry i missed your calls."

the room is silent apart from the squeak of spencer's chair as he sits down, rolling forward to reach a case file before noticing the defeating silence in the room. he lifts his head up, only to be met by the shocked and wide-eyed faces of his team members.

"what?"

"what was that?' derek exclaimed, gesturing between the two of you. spencer shook his head with a shrug before tilting his head, eyebrows furrowing with confusion.

"what do you mean?"

"you just...kissed y/n on the forehead," jj spoke slowly as if she was still processing the situation in her head. spencer had a confused smile stretch across his lips. looking between the three of them as if they were crazy.

"yeah? you guys are acting like we aren't dating..."

"WHAT?"

spencer jolts back at the yells of the three members, hands raising in a defensive manner before looking over at you. your jaw was basically on the floor, eyes wide as you stared at spencer.

"...they didn't know, spencer," your voice is barely above a whisper, embarrassment running thick as you hunch your shoulders once more. for once, the attention is focused on spencer, and you're thankful the spotlight isn't on you.

"since when?" emily immediately interrogates him, standing up and leaning over the desk as her palm splays against the wooden table.

"c'mon, they're obviously pranking us," derek shrugs with a confident smirk. "we would've known sooner if they actually were dating."

"no I'm-i'm serious," spencer defends, mouth opening and closing before he turns back to face emily and answers her question. "it's been 4 years."

"WHAT?" they all exclaim in unison once more, lips parted as their jaws drop. they're all frozen in shock, eyes flickering between the two of you.

"i'm confused, how did you guys not know? we share lunch together every day!" spencer laughs in disbelief, shrugging as his hands flop between you and him. "y/n brings me a coffee every day."

"yeah but-"

'you never gave us a reason to believe that you were more than friends!" jj interjects, arms crossing over her chest.

"can we please focus on the case, guys?" hotch interrupts with a deep sigh, rubbing at his forehead with an impressed glower.

"hotch, you're not surprised?" derek exclaims, sitll in disbelief.

"no, they told me 4 years ago," hotch states simply before turning towards jj. "now, we've had enough interruptions. the case? please?"

"we're going out for drinks, and you're telling us everything." emily demands, her index finger pointing directly at you. you can feel everyone's gaze turns towards you, snickering at how flustered you look - unable to meet their eyes as you cover your cheeks with your hands.

"i'm sorry?" spencer offers, his own shoulders hunching upwards."i can give you my entire sandwich?!"

"be quiet, spencer!"

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #cm #cm x reader #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #matthew gray gubler #mgg #mgg x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff

2K notes · View notes

inkyquince · 1 year

Text

This is a kofi commission for @letstalktea! They sweetly requested Harper being a right little creep over his hermaphrodite reader and a professional letter regarding your health turns very very unprofessional.

content warning. implied somnophilia, medical malpractise, petnames, masturbation, cum stains on the second letter. hermaphrodite reader. dubcon, harper being a nasty. sadly the cum stains on the letter is pretty hard to see.

transcript:

Dear Mx,

I wished to send a follow up letter after our last appointment that took place last Friday. After your dizzy spell in my office, I am satisfied with the results of the tests we run on you, with your permission.

The results were quite clear and you will find enclosed the details of the test, but most importantly the medication I wish for you to start taking. You will be required to come in as soon as convenient to pick up the prescription from my office and then the pills from the chemist. You will start noticing the effects around two weeks after taking them and hopefully you will start feeling much better, in more ways than one.

Sadly there are some side effects that we are more than prepared to help you with. You will notice that your body is more sensitive, especially certain areas, such as your fingers, lips, ears, feet, chest and genitals. You might also notice your libido may increase, or certain areas might swell. We shall talk about it more when you come in, but all of these side effects are well worth it.

I will admit that on a more personal level, rather than professional, that you gave me quite the fright collapsing like that. You have lived in this town long enough to know better than to do that by now. I cannot even stress the amount of sleep I would lose if I knew you were out there, liable to faint, be so vulnerable and alone and open for the taking by any man with ill intentions towards you.

I could barely contain myself seeing you passed out in my office…

It is as if you are unaware of your own affect on people. I would love to pick your brain about that. Maybe take you in for an examination. Maybe even have you over at my asylum, just for a short stay of course. For your own good.

Don’t worry, you wouldn’t have to interact with the rest of the patience. Just you and I as you recover and allow me to examine you everyday. Of course we’d make sure that you can happily keep up a routine, and your studies in between the exams. I, of course, will still be busy with the hospital and the other asylum patients, but we both know that if I could, I would spend an overwhelming amount of my time by your side. As your doctor, of course.

Also I don’t want you to think that any of the tests would be painful, not at all! You’ll be more of a little lab mouse, and we aim not to hurt those little darlings. You’re more delicate, with those big eyes that look so innocently at me even as we both know that your innocence has been long since tarnished. As if you’re trying to make it up to me. As if saying “See, Doctor Harper? Right here for you to dirty up yourself.” Darling thing. You’re a very special patient to me and you use that, don’t you? Trusting me with your vulnerable body and leaning into my touch as I examine you. Sometimes I like to think that you’re just pretending to be asleep, and you’re encouraging me with those spread legs. Allows me to flip up that skirt or tug down those trousers to look at that cute lump in those panties.

You’re such a rare specimen, how could I ever resist? Not when that cock is so happy to see me. You’re always so stiff the moment I play with it, as if you’re encouraging me. See, Doctor Harper, see? That cunt of yours welcomes me in, the second I start touching it, spreading those lips to admire how you glisten. Always so wet and excited, pussy greedy for anything I can give it over and over and over again.

Best of all, you’re so relaxed when you leave. You can’t tell at all, can you? The way you’re less stiff, your gait carefree. I know for a fact you left with a smile after I played with your tits.

You turn me into who I was a long time ago. You always do. No matter where I meet you, just a glimpse of your skin, your lips, your throat, and I’m not better than who I was. It almost makes me wish I was your schoolmate, fingering your helpless pussy in Science. Or better, I ask to take up shifts for the nurse at school and you can spend all your free time in my office, letting me play with your cock as you lay there, begging me to ease your stress.

The moment you step into the asylum, I don’t think my composure will hold out. You’re my little mouse, scurrying through my halls, my office, my rooms. How would I ever resist you then? I should just strip you bare, but I don’t want anyone else seeing you like that, little cock flaccid between your thighs and nipples hard from the cold air. People can see you when you’re aroused, begging for something to fill you up, but not while you’re vulnerable. All exposed. That’s for me only. If you want I can stay overnight. I don’t usually but I can only think about seeing how much I can ruin you with the few hours I have. Fill you with cum and jerk that limp cock, barely able to cum anymore. I want you crying for me, from overstimulation and love, my mouse unable to take anymore but I’ll make you. I want you wearing my underwear in our therapy sessions, I want you to want me so much you can’t even wait a full hour before climbing into my lap and kissing me.

We’re going to need practice. It is humiliating but I want to tell you. The few kisses we’ve shared, I could barely contain myself. Your lips are so soft and it makes me nearly cum each time. Just once I pressed my cockhead against your lips and just watched my precum smear over them, how it slowly dribbled into your mouth, and the way my cum painted your face after just a few strokes? I thought it would calm me, but it just made me hungrier. A taste.

I can’t do this anymore. I will remain my professional self, I will. Just let me fuck you on my fingers and then my cock. Let me keep you, little mouse.

Which comes back around to our meeting later.

We’re going to do a urine test that I wish to personally oversee, just in case you haven’t eaten anything that could interfere with the medication we wish to put you on. There will also be a physical test, also done by me. I can’t wait to see you bare again. Just to make sure you’re physically healthy for our planned regime.

So, see you tomorrow and maybe pack a bag.

Remember, if you lose your way, I can send someone to help you make your way over.

Signed

Harper

Doctor Harper

Kofi

Patreon

#dol #degrees of lewdity #commission #harper the doctor #nsft #quincewrites #character letter

157 notes · View notes

mslanna · 5 months

Text

Three Out of Nine Ain't Bad

Chapter 16 of Be My Guest now up on AO3

In which Tav spoils their own surprise but gets sexy fiend from Raphael as compensation. Also, Mel is too lazy to invent Infernal and just uses German instead. 🤷

Special of the day? Raphael in full battle regalia 👀🥵😳

Tav is flabbergasted at how easy the eavesdropping is. They need nary any cover to be ignored. A book helps as good as a scroll of invisibility. Whatever secrets Haarlep wants they are not being discussed in public though. Tav's limited vocabulary may expand lewdly, but those words never come up at all.

They have an easier time making out parts of Raphael's overall strategy. Since travel between the layers of hell is restricted to specific paths, controlling them takes up a great amount of the invasion work. The lower the hells Raphael conquers are, the more important it is to have trustworthy fiends on the back-end of the operation.

It seems the Crown of Karsus is guaranteeing a lot of the trustworthiness. It makes Tav uncomfortable but Raphael is confident. Tav likes him confident, the swagger translates directly into his tail. Not that they'd dare call him cute to his face. Yet.

"I thought you have Yurgir on the portal from Dis to the City of Chains already?" Tav sits cross-legged on their bed and watches Raphael get ready. He is vain. But he looks gorgeous, so Tav enjoys watching his routines and rituals. His fingers massaging balm into his horns mesmerise with memories of how they feel against their skin.

"I do." The devil turns, hands still working the rough surface of his horns to a soft shine.

With an effort Tav pries their eyes loose from the sight. "Maybe make sure all your people know that? Some seem to be under the impression he's supposed to be vanguard for Minauros itself."

"And how do you come to that conclusion?" He wipes his hands on a soft cloth.

The subtle scent of tallow and cherries reaches Tav and sends a sharp pang of home through them. "Your subordinates have mouths and they use them to speak occasionally."

"In common?" An impeccable brow raises.

"If you say so."'

"You are avoiding my question."

"I am." Tav slips off the bed. Now the devil towers over them even taller which is strangely comforting.

"Warum?"

"Weil ich kann." The words feel rough on Tav's tongue.

Raphael smirks. "I see. A welcome development. With a horrible accent but it will do."

"Lucky for you that your minions are idiots that can't keep your strategy straight." Tav sighs and leans against his chest. "I was hoping to catch you flat-footed with this one."

"Some other time." Raphael returns the embrace and drops a quick kiss onto Tav's hair. "Does Haarlep know?"

"Unfortunately." Tav rubs their face into the expensive doublet. "And if he teaches me more helpful expression like 'Muschi putzen' or 'Pfosten einschlagen' I will scream. I swear."

Raphael pushes them away at their shoulders. "What are they teaching you that for?"

"So I can pick up naughty gossip for them. Not that there is any. I tried."

"I think I will have a word with them." The devil lets go and turns to leave. When he reaches the door, Raphael turns around. "No pleas for kindness this time?"

"It is utterly horrible," Tav sighs. "Go get them."

Raphael shakes his head as he leaves.

Tav waits for a while before they follow. The throne room is unusually full and they have to weave their way towards the stairs. Devils get in their way and Tav can't shake the feeling of being watched. But they can hardly turn to look around. They can't even see very far amidst the fiends towering at least a head or more over them.

The library is a safe retreat. Raphael encourages them to keep going though Tav could read just as well in the suite. They grab a few books and look towards the secret exit longingly. But the devil is right. A change of scenery now and then is healthy.

In search of other views, Tav returns to the portal room. The shimmering surfaces show no landscapes but they can lose themself in daydreams with travelogues and collections of prints. Maybe they will be able to leave the House of Hope for a little. Only one moment of blue skies…

Tav still dreams of the ocean when two devils enter the room. They are in high spirits, probably about to embark on some atrocities.

"Oh, das Haustier!" one calls and they veer off to where Tav sits. "Are you lonely and longing? Do you want to come with us?"

They jostle as if there is only one front row seat for looking at Tav.

"Don't worry," the other adds. "We will protect you." A red wing extends in Tav's direction. They step away, taken aback by the careless display of intimacy.

"You scared them." The first devil laughs. "No worries, little human. You are perfectly safe with us. It will be fun to get out a little, won't it?"

"Wasn schlapper Lauch." The wing is retracted but now both devils approach, herding Tav towards one of the portals. "Überhaupt gar kein Problem und mit so fein festen Routinen. This one goes to Icewind Dale,"they add towards Tav."We will make sure you're not cold. Promise."

"Ah." Tav stumbles a little and uses the manoeuvrer to duck away under the approaching devil. "I, uh, I think I left my cat on the stove." They make a beeline for the exit while the devils puzzle over their reply, still laughing and shoving each other.

"It's to be expected, I guess." Tav say later when they watch Raphael armour up for battle. His helldusk armour is exquisite and the crown completes it beautifully. "If they keep tabs on my whereabouts they might just as well come to annoy me. Not sure what they get out of it."

"If you'd remember what they looked like, I could look into it." Raphael turns and his cape swooshes impressively.

"I can describe them," Tav quips. "Let's see. They were about this tall." They stand on the bed and hold a hand at the level of Raphael's height. "They had red skin, and black hair, both of them actually. One had hair like this but the other had more of a side part. And horns! They both had horns, the twisty kind. An-"

"Impossible." Raphael shakes his head at his human. "You must learn to look for the sigils on their armour."

"Hmm." Tav leans in to run their hands over the spiked plates of infernal protection covering their devil. "Would you believe me if I said they didn't wear any?"

"No. Unless they looked more like this." Raphael morphs into his ascended form. It is a slow, deliberate show that leaves Tav breathless. Where Raphael's cambion form is sturdy, the fiend is lean, long-limbed and slender. And completely naked. If fire cast into iron brambles can be called naked.

The ascended fiend towers over Tav, the crown now more part of his body than add-on. The flames move under their black cage, restless and deadly. Unthinking, Tav reaches out and runs their fingers over a black tendril of bone. It is hot, but not unbearably so.

"Really?" Raphael asks. "This form tends to instils fear."

"Yeah, well it didn't last time I saw it," Tav argues.

"I remember."

"Curiosity, of course." Tav's hands move over the fiendish chest and feel the fire burn faster around the heart. They smile. "Give me your hand."

Raphael complies and Tav presses their small, soft palm against the monstrous claw. They intertwine their fingers and are only stopped, when the devil lifts their chin with his other hand.

With a smile, Tav leans up and slips their head between the sharp mandibles framing the tree skulls. Their hands clasp them as well as they can. Then they breathe a kiss over the fang-framed mouth.

"Had you done that the first time you saw this form, things may have gone very differently." Raphael's long claws close around Tav's back tenderly.

"Yeh. I would have been felled by the hands of my own companions within seconds." Tav chuckles.

"They can't help you here."

"Do I look like I need help?"

"Not yet. But it can be arranged." The low growl hums through Tav's bones. "After the battle, though. I still have a war to win."

Tav sighs. "I am starting to get annoyed by this war. But since it is the third hell and it means you're one third done, I shall be lenient."

"Take the time to think over how you would like the help to look." Three skulls leer at Tav.

"I will. Be safe." Tav kisses him gently.

"For you." Raphael returns the kiss, proving that his ascended form does indeed have a tongue and knows how to use it.

Tav watches him leave still breathless, legs useless under them as they sit on the bed. Alone again.

But it’s not the first time, Tav is left behind with too much time on their hands and too many thoughts painting the most gruesome of possible futures. After having a good desperate melt-down and a nap, Tav takes a long, hot bath and visits Haarlep.

It is difficult to let the seriousness of the situation go. Tav loses at lanceboard several times in quick succession, their thoughts miles away.

“You worry too much," Haarlep scolds. "If the worst comes to pass, you will find out soon enough. Might as well enjoy the time. Could be the last fun you ever have."

With a sigh, Tav grabs their wineglass and starts pacing the room. "I know. I know. And. On the one hand, it isn't much. Small fry. But on the other hand it's a third. One third of the hells under Raphael's rule. Kinda big. Somewhat. I think."

"It will start to become really interesting once he goes up against Asmodeus." The incubus weaves around the pacing human and flops down on the bed.

"No worries about Mephistopheles?"

"Why? He's just an arch devil and if he had a trump card apart from your soul, he'd have played it by now. Instead he's scrabbling for alliances with other hells. None of which will last of course."

"They only have to last until Raphael is defeated." Tav exhales heavily. "How I hate this war and the waiting. I never feel more trapped or useless."

"Rightfully so." The incubus is unperturbed. "As long as your soul is bound to Mephistopheles, you are just a liability. An exciting one, but you know my stance on that."

Tav does and just resumes pacing. "That's why I'm here," Tav says almost to themself. "I'm safe here."

"Oh, little mouse, still so naive." Haarlep laughs. "All it takes is one tiny accident, one fall guy and you are out of the picture."

Tav thinks back to the two devils in the portal room. One careless moment. Maybe they'd better cast Mage Armour over themself when they ventured out into the halls of the House. But if they give in to that fear, the House of Hope will turn into a complete prison. They shiver and wrap their arms around themself.

"How do you live like that?" they finally ask. "Always expecting betrayal, always one step away from a knife in the back, nothing to fall back on to, nobody to trust?"

"Oh, honey, I think you may be talking to the wrong person here." Haarlep shrugs.

Tav stares at the incubus. But Haarlep is right. Such thoughts don't occur to fiends. For a moment, Tav hurts for them, deep and endless. The only consolation is that the fiends don't know what they are missing out on.

Only, Raphael is a cambion. Tav sucks on their lower lip. Half human. The worst of both worlds. "Alright." Tav straightens and joins the incubus on the bed. "Tell me about devils. About fiends, incubi and succubi. Tell me everything about their lives."

"You won't like it." Haarlep pats the space next to them and wraps an arm around Tav's shoulders once they settle. "You won't like it one bit."

"I know." Tav nods. "Tell me anyway."

At some point, Tav has to leave. The lives of devils are bleak even if Haarlep disagrees heartily. It doesn't help and the warm buzz from the wine dissolves around the hopeless stories the incubus tells.

Sitting in the library, chugging tea and twisting their tongue around infernal words is a relief. Tav keeps telling themself that this language is also spoken by tieflings. Not everybody using it is trapped in a merciless web of competition.

When their head starts to spin, Tav wonders how long they sat here. Time is a slippery beast at the best of times but in the orange soup that is Avernus it is extra elusive. Moving their toes and shoulders, Tav tries to guess by how tense they are. Not that it helps. A nap, they decide, finally feeling their head tired enough again not to spiral.

When Tav reaches the stairs, a familiar figure is already walking down. The gangly limbs hang tired, blazing fires dimmed into a warm yellow under dusty and bloodied black bone. "Raphael." Tav is certain to have breathed the word to low to hear. But the fined turns, wings and horns brushing against the stone of the stairs. Tav takes another step towards him.

They stare, taking in the ascended fiend and their hands move unthinking. Of course they cannot reach. The fiend towers over them, tail snapping restlessly behind him. "Back?" is all Tav gets out.

The skulls lower, slip between their hands easily. "It is over." The voice rasps deeply, echoing the burning form of the fiend's body.

Tav rises on their toes and presses a kiss to the toothy mouth. Their head fits snugly between the black mandibles framing the three skulls and long teeth. In an attempt to steady themself, Tav curls their fingers around black bones.

The human is tiny before him. Raphael has to crouch to level with their head and is immediately pulled into a kiss. There is no hesitation in Tav, only eager acceptance when he pushes his tongue between their lips. On his body of fire and coal, their touch is even colder than usual.

Raphael slips an arm around the small body and lifts them up, never breaking the kiss. Tav hangs suspended by his grace, leaning into the touch. He presses down, teeth grazing soft slips, claws cutting through fabric and skin.

But Tav doesn't mind. They kiss him eagerly. "Dem Sieger," they repeat their lines from after his fist victory, "gebührt die Beute." Tav sucks at him desperately, wrapping their legs around his waist as soon as they are able to.

Raphael growls a reply void of words and long strides take them to their suite, disregarding any audience.

#bg3 raphael #bg3 #raphael x tav #bg3 fanfiction #be my guest #chapter 16 #sleazy second-hand car dealer

16 notes · View notes

toinfinitywinning · 3 months

Text

this is get to know you time. the cringy name game at every camp in the world you do with toilet paper. enough.

Conversations and thoughts resembling the same level of random and incongruence of my Apple Music library. like Josh Groban is to Eminem: Mercy Me. a lot about everything that’s not a hashtag bc it just needs more attention.

Let the first (post) be first:

Hi. I’ve never done this before (like a seriously grown up blog on purpose. Just when just followed sad somewhat desperate poetry with a random live-laugh-love meme in there somewhere.) and Pitch Perfect.

BUT.

For 2 years I’ve had Long-Haul COVID. It’s a different kind of lonely

Thanks so much, amirite? —Gen-Z apologies if I didn’t use that jumbled acronym-word correctly.

It’s hard to keep up.

See? What am I talking about now and how did I get there…

Due to a very common symptom of LHC…

Again—hard to keep up. It’s there. Tho

And I have a lot of quirk so it’s possible I think you’ll “get” but are just nice not to tell me

BUT.

It’s already gone. Train left the Station yesterday.

Slipped on a penny.

Not Good. not even funny.

Teens with the gorgeous graffiti have to Go elsewhere. I’ve always been jealous of that kind talent.

Whole lot better than something else shiny thrown on the track and it’s derailed. There’s at least some innocence in a paint can.

WOW.

I have major attention and Brain Fog hurdles to conquer or shortly bypass. You might not be able to tell b/c of how My writing jumps around so infrequently.

Not true but still easier.

Mostly innocent and playful.

Sadly the attention part is this many years young.

Writing comes naturally. As it always has, strangely...

And why is healing so exhausting? Writing is therapeutic but My body says—can you not?

i know im not the only one asking that!

As if I have time for that too.

find a community of people suffering just as similarly and gain strength, tips and tricks.

Just, speak-screen edit my writing for me. Maybe a clarification fact-✔.

Just not wherever Tr*mp gets his.

Could be Truth Social. Monthly fee tho will cost you your Red Hat.

MYGAbad

Speaking I struggle with processing w/e skills I must have held onto.

BUT.

Since 2 years is quite. some. time.—I’ve shared many struggles and victories.

Like a Bell curve. Or a punk Domino falling then lining them up takes longer just to go down again in half the time. Repeat.

It’s very likely I Will try to talk about many things at once.

I really can’t help that. LOL.

Jury’s still out but I get most of my writing and miscellaneous musings from mom.

Dad can write the best, longest, and precious prayers and notes.

Almost delicately but like you KNOW he’s giving you a hug.

A Good mix tape’s paper Version.

Enter Run on sentences. Truly a stream by now.

Although my brain muscle is weak I’ve been encouraged by several people to Start a blog. Someday I’ll include the past 2 years of w/e pics are on other SocMed.

I can’t think of anything worse.

Yea, okay LOL.

Judgment free. Occasionally… like normal doses then have to work through that.

Mostly that’s because I knew nothing about anything before I opened My computer and started sharing My thoughts under zero context ridden or form at all.

More likely as well to offend and piss someone off. Well done you’re now one less friend popular. There’s an App for that tho-tracking people Who don’t like you.

Not sure where I’ll land with this. It may not land you either.

Because like a lot of us. Sometimes you don’t get to talk actually. No Room.

I like routine; that’s out. So it gets dull.

I’ve learned I hadn’t yet given myself the space to see all of things I can do sitting down.

But. By “given” I mean to say that perhaps I didn’t know it was there.

One Good thing I’ve gathered from this Hell.

Hell fresh by the Day! Never frozen.

So at that time and in this case of my life; sitting is fine.

Some of it isn’t too bad. The writing. You will find questionable punctuation. Run on sentences that I was running.

Relevance at all.

All around Confusion…altho connect the dots could have been seen as practice.

Or annoying even. I’d have no words.

I truly don’t set out to be funny. I could never do stand-up or improv. Or act.

Humor forced just takes and receives too much energy that might come off insincere.

Nothing on command.

Like Matt Perry’s brilliant improv wit it just doesn’t hit the same.

B/c it was scripted.

A syllabus for it Imagine.

The horn to jump off the swim block.

It’s when Life feels more scripted a lot of people close up.

That’s because you’re not in charge anymore. I’ve lost the Power.

Don’t prefer caring about whether someone likes me like I used to.

I believe you can snooze me for 30 days or say ‘I’m done w/ her’ and send Me to the cyberarchives.

Okay. Okay.

So—90% of the time I’m witty and sarcastic with a bit of cynicism, discomfort (for you), and pettifogging.

I write primarily about the questions of intersectionality.

How do things fit.

Let’s Fit it.

Until I figured out physics and calculus and basic math were behind a career in architecture and the classes I would have to take, I enjoyed taking things apart to make something else.

Not always pretty.

Could be Good what I took apart was the best thing we can’t see.

Like I’m writing questions but with wisdom not meaning to do that either,

A lot of people don’t like that. You do you! Baby.

I don’t mean to be at all harsh or hurtful. I try not to say that anything vainly.

I say it b/c a lot of what I’m writing is all of every piece of stream of consciousness tallied.

And it was a synapse connecting another.

Maybe that’s the creative part? The other side of My Brain is telling Me to ✔ on the other side so I’m like…crickets.

What I write is stream of consciousness, brutally honest and to some might be lightly offensive. In College writing this Way would’ve absolutely driven Me crazy.

Then life steps in and bonks u on the head with a newspaper but 15 years later returns the favor with an iPhone.

Or too blunt. And comes across as harsh. And that’s mostly because if I don’t have an emoji to match my real-life broken ღ I’m breaking up with you.

Self reflection: impulsive

I used to journal so much growing up.

When did I lose that innocence?

We can’t talk about folding paper into cranes and witchcraft finger fortune games anymore?

No more MASH?

Huh, maybe you weren’t born this Way. Ur Parents just drew circles nearest each other or your apple stem twist broke too soon and you want a partner whose name starts with P.

Very often I overshare. If you’re reading this this is not brand new information. No ability to say things simply. Think I’ve already. That can put me really vulnerable to more bitcoin hacks.

And then you need to figure out what bitcoin is. And whether Mario can collect coins as well in place of the hackers.

I’d say ask Tom Brady b/c of his investments but since retirement he’s been pretty deflated.

Mean people that mean to hurt.

First of all I feel sorry for you. Not in a poor you tho.

People Who hurt on purpose don’t often have any Way to vent or get a rise other than evoke feelings in and deflect toward a schoolmate.

Skip back to the part I tried talking about vulnerability. It truly is the invisible cloak and no one can see you but nothing makes sense still and you’ve only fixed what’s on the outside. Now you’re peeved AND cloaked.

At this conjunction junction next I’d suggest try shopping at Target opposed to Abercrombie then.

Feet in the water right above bankruptcy to see how things could be different only what…if?

Good ♧ seriously.

So there’s more grace given when you fall. When it’s not your month Day or even year!

Nobody is there for you!!

And My cloak is getting rained on.

Maybe gathering strength from falling will come a common sense with a 6th one but with seriously meaningful things I’ve learned and less hard knock’s Life for us.

The hard Way.

The bottom’s still there and it actually stinks stinks. Discouraging b/c there are two sides to the bottom of the cave full of stalagTITES and mites.

All the up’s and down’s. Right there. And the COVID-19 bat OMG!

You know you may not be able to fall any further further but once you’re up again you’re wondering whether you should get some cement to close that thing off.

Choose to live! But welcome to the real world—it sucks—ur gonna Love it.

Almost 4got. In the cave you dont always have to wait for Jesus to be resurrected if that metaphor comforts you but if change comes and it requires a whole new worm can of Life we already can’t handle that gets us outta the dank I don’t think we need to ask permission to the rights of that Bible passage.

BUT.

Until YOU are ready for change...

Forget it. At least you meant well. Someone can guide that horse to water but it stays pretty hydrated, so he says he’s Good. Promise. The only talking animal and it was Me Who got to hear it. More importantly, who’s gonna ☊? Care? There’s a country song finding out Who your Friends are. A lot stay lost and it’s not helpful all our Friends aren’t the same.

Missing a Good chance to find out if you’re in a similar predicament and that not always a bad thing.

At times I have literally had to be lifted off the floor.

I don’t do this at all for pity. As you read, My Pride is the biggest obstacle to let Go.

When you do?

The hard way through this.

I am angry and irritable for bouts. Sometimes I’m silly and invite karma punishments.

Go all Brimstone and every type fire and the Old Testament has nothing New-thinking and no one new to add to it. SMH. Nail a list on the wooden church door reading it is nearing endgame. Or, Just open your hotel drawer and tear out the back half.

So change then— If it were Me and it has been just not an actual hole I’d be outta there due to the spiders and crickets alone. Jiminy’s Cool.

If u can’t change and just stay a novice bunny hill—fine! Stay there. Build some confidence through experience.

And isn’t that another thing? Something specific motivates the fire under your (cuckoo!) and before you’d see the dark without any End of the tunnel and more importantly with the light aspect. All the sudden you care b/c what? It applies to you of course be selfish. Fascinating yet humbling.

Then there’s the ‘Why Me’ (?) phase? Not fully pitiful but just pretentious enough to resume the trailblaze. Bad attitude with a healthy dose of are we there yet and trying to Balance whether someone is saying …’they get it; you always feel bad’ so…KY Basketball banter? Ashamed accompanies too bc thing is a few times I did kind of scoff at phrases like I always feel bad. Like, here’s 2 Extra strength Tylenol.Alright, Ok, come test for Covid 1/29/22. It shouldn’t take going through something to empathize with or change but you could’ve listened for longer with a clear mind. Just cannot wrap your head around it and I think sometimes that’s okay. What’s next I’ll try so hard.

+ It’s 12:01am of 1/29/24 (so last night), you still can’t do math and/or struggle to add or subtract 12 so aren’t entirely sure its your sophomore year orientation, and you already surrender to what you didn’t want to get up for in the first place. Kind of silly u set the alarm! B/c Pain, confusion, Discomfort and a Deep loneliness that has very little to do with people awaits. That whole scenario is a disaster but look who’s standing and GOT. UP. period. 15 years ago that’s where I’d be. Just defeated.

THAT. Is enough some days. I say that to you struggling to believe the same but know Deep down.

Year 2 longhaul and youre wondering why there are anniversaries at all given about half are always sad or tragic. Evoking the worst on what could be the best. Might be something To think 2 minutes ago you’d ended your prayer to have a better Day. Of anything is true about everything happens for a reason I’d say having to chooose how to respond given you have the privilege at all to that just means were normal. B/c ill be honest I would not

I’m angry. WHAT is so complicated about your lack of Faith or belief prayer must go into an encrypted iCloud even the FBI can’t retrieve or interpret. Never had a chance! But I’ll add that it’s worth noting prayer doesn’t deal with its existence in transaction currencies..

Feel less Pain but feel more with it or stronger now. Or, just plain ‘ol numb. Similar to Addiction I suppose people get so used to being healthy one Way or another they don’t even notice better OR worse and no one is getting married.

Truth is.

Yea.

I’m in Hell, but I’m not on a ventilator. I’m not without relentless Support.

I still can smile but laugh just a bit before it hurts.

Something is always worse.

SomeONE is doing worse.

Somewhere and definitely rn.

I never knew I’d be dealing greed of perspective for this Long.

Something you’ll never find out about that changed your life’s trajectory where an explanation would have only confused things.

Then we still have the chance to be astonished and then genuine bc of that. Thankful. Expectant. With Faith somehow. Maybe carrying someone else’s Hope for a while might burden you less for a short time.

You dont need to see eye struggle and suffering. You dont need examples. You just know. There’s a fleeting peace u might not see again for 2 days but in knowing it’s not just you with the same bs going on.

Like here. Here is someone who needs support but in a different Way but how unique it could be to trade just for a bit. It’s not leg day this time remember u agreed a temp trade.

We don’t have to know everything. Most of the time I don’t give God the time to keep up w/ Me let alone do anything miraculous before I just hang up.

Although My Life was headed in a completely renewed direction in so many ways of recovery—

I got sick. Not because it was meant to be.

Because COVID. Possibly a rabid bat. Cracked vile or petri-dish

Everything does not happen for a reason and ppl dont like hearing that bc its an easy out. Says time might go on but this thorn wont ever heal. How do we respond? that’s the most authentic and a strength yes or no wand.

I hate cliché. Thing is tho…I think we all hate it b/c it doesn’t hold us accountable. Eh it’s fine.

Unfortunately we wouldn’t have the pretty, surprise, one of the Walk to Remember walks. All up to the of healing and forgiveness individual to each of us.

If for Me that means ive healed all I can and I’m counting on research to help Me out some more maybe I just keep going. Trust Me nothing is forgotten but you do know now that at least you were strong and capable enough to figure all that at all. And—I can do that. Some days aren’t that kind.

Maybe it becomes a goal we never anticipated but ✔ your resilience at the ticket line and saddle up, honey.this donkey only holds ____ lbs. let some things Go. That thing will still only walk in a circle but you’ve evenly distributed your baggage.

The feeling of pure joy. Which btw does still require a thesaurus b/c it is NOT the same as joy. Like a preventative Med to an acute one.

Then feel Accomplishment.

Not knowing what’s next but trying to be prepared.

It’s a surprise party we never RSVP’d and don’t regret it.

And it’s a Good thing u got outbid for that yacht.

Hell, tho, you won’t be forgotten but pushing helps the donkey move faster for now that is acceptable.

Unshun. Reshun. (This will make sense if you Watch the Office)

Flee fly. Be gone. Thankfully we hope to come out more resilient after the rip and tear and often not fully repaired sewing lessons.

But perhaps the biggest trait I’ve had to work on is My Pride. I want to do it.

I’ll give myself 3 strikes. 4 balls.

Then I walk to First.

Please do not get Me a gift.

I Love you and that was so sweet.

Would I be as generous?

Do u work, yea. It’s just one really hurts more and being tough isn’t tough at all if it’s not helping the worst hurt.

Those are sitting down, timeout thoughts.

The compression socks need to breathe.

But once the Pride slides over, let go, I get to know how it feels to very tangibly be taken care of and watched over.

Patience. The other side of a rant.

Later on that.

My main goal is to learn. Connect. Be called out if something comes off really tasteless.

Laugh at things that don’t have anything to do with being chronically sick. Laugh about what Medicine u had to administer and royally failed.

Sometimes all coupled with a handicap car-tag. No crutches either b/c I don’t like hearing I Will get better. It is a nice statement but it is impossible to be sure. Ive struggled with that b/c I know everyone believes that and means well I’ve just taken prior sick Gentry’s generalization and multiplied.

I am not making light. I think part of me is using the sarcasm as a coping mechanism.

Praise God there is something that does help the pain or at least distract from that Pain just not the one in your legs.

A codependency just a bit less severe. Embarrassing. Reason for judgment. Too easy.

If you can believe it—-I am not the same person I was 2 years ago.

For now I truly don’t know how. Pain can leave, anything traumatic can be worked on. You’ve got your scars.

I actually really think a scar is just unique as a snowflake or fingerprint. Telling so many stories. B/c a scar does mean something has healed. And it never forgets at one time it was painful. I’d prefer to see what I accomplish but I see wonder and beauty in them.

Things get pretty deep, complicated and downright pitifully sad. Vulnerable. Frighteningly true and relevant.

So I take what Good I can get in that day and pray those with LHC (Long-Haul COVID-19)

Be released.

However. On the flip tail’s side.

I’m 35 years aware there are some people who just don’t like me.

Until recently I wouldn’t have meant ‘sorry not sorry.’

I do now. To a respectable extent.

Reader discretion is advised. I promise I never set out to hurt anyone.

definitely not on purpose.

Because. Idgaf. Not bars being held. Que sera, sera.

complete transparency and seriously tho this doesn't mean i dont care. i wear my heart on my sleeve like a ding-dong ready to get hurt.

call it a diversion. we were on a break.

i just might take all of whatever hits wrong and turn that in to whatever ounce of assurance I can with the openness and to the best capability to learn new things and grow with compassion.

And back to writing—may already be just engrained but I don’t ever have a thesis, 3 supporting ideas or a better word then a conclusion.

You might find yourself confused. Reading it again prob won’t help.

Some will be really bad. Ugly. Waste of time. it was at least therapeutic for me.

Already is.

Even more might not make sense.

Read at your own risk, basically.

I have confidence but not really. Just enough not to care to change.

But I think about it. Because I’m wrong a lot.

challenge me. ill try to get through the fog.

But a lot of things have changed. in ways i might not even know Beauty in the Mess.

To sum up the above (sorry, there won’t be another summary after this disclaimer’s commercial intermission.)

I want to be as positive as possible.

Be in control of what I can. Ask for help for what I cannot.

I’m so ready to get My Life back. Trust Me and trust anyone Who tells your theyre in constant pain.

Really embarrassing I used to kind of scoff and be empathetic.

Funny how youre so sure of things.

Until it happens to you.

Suddenly it’s back to the drawing board and humility.

I wear my ღ on my sleeve. My greatest superpower and kryptonite.

What you read is as close to what you get as possible.

Balance can be unfair.

Please know that I care. I try harder than I ever had before. There are things I didn’t even Imagine could happen to someone when sick.

In all the ways I want to come out of this even better than what I envy I was entering into when I got sick.

There will be a WIDE range of thoughts similar to how i write. Mostly Sports and public figures and the politics I can comprehend.

B/c I know there’s someone out there who’s homeless because of this diagnosis. Or was deadly. Fired.

Divorced.

Ive become a bit of a nerd. Childish in some ways b/c you have to be creative…to be creative.

How do I even Start philosophizing that? So I don’t.

So I try My best to be the best I can. Inspire. Elicit laughter and new ways of thinking.

Questions.

Really tho? I just wanna be me.

thank you so sincerly to anything fromn a meme to a gift to a hug a prayer a smile, company, vibes if they can travel

but most of all

for holding hope when ive not been strong enough to.

For better or worse

for loving me.

making me feel heard.

idk what tomorrow holds but if its the same as today ill know at least i can make it and i am still beyond blessed and cared for and loved unconditionally.

even if forever.

wanna feel free, free.

to be me unabandoned.

changed for the better without knowing it.

some people dont have that option.

or even less the resource or safety to write about it.

Lastly mostly—I’m thankful for Insurance and the ability and privilege to work from home. And. Still have a job in general.

A Family and Family reserves holding me.

gentry.gonna.gents/g3

next. and if you made it this far, bless you.

thank you.

you mean more than you know to me. to anyone miscellaneous thanks as well and to my family and extended family and friends and job and insurance.

im in better shape than a lot. perspective sucks in the throes. selfish not selfish but my gosh turn the lights off. each journey is sooo different, but idk find the goodness and inspiration inbtw. There will be a rainbow soon enough, I wont make the bold claim and promise you one tho,

semi lastly and vulnerably, we've all been hurt. all going through something.

I say this every time something really bad happens. Ya know the ‘this is even worse,’ talk.

This one holds every candle.

Funny not funny none are the same and you’re never fully prepared.

and no one knows what it is you’re dealing.

give grace when I can’t sometimes.

cliché’s be damned lets just golden rule it b/c that one’s hard to do too but it sounds cute and Idont see a periodic table saying A! U! Be nice and welcoming.

I know I’ve forgotten something.

So I’ll fight.

But I still get to complain.

Feeling so entitled to this ill.

Sincerely,

Gentry

no ps you're welcome

8 notes · View notes

ship-mista · 1 year

Text

Hey Howdy Mista-Lovers! It's finally time! I present to you...

🔫🔫🔫

MISTA HAREM WEEK!

Running from November 27th until our best boy's birthday on December 3rd!

This post will cover info, rules, prompts... and more? Check it out!

Also find me on Twitter:

https://www.twitter.com/ship_mista

Question One: What is Mista Harem Week?

Short answer: A week dedicated to any and all relationships featuring Mista!

Long answer: A seven-day creation spree featuring everyone's favorite gunslinger in all types of relationships!

We welcome:

➼ All pairings (But rarepairs are encouraged!)

➼ All types of love (Platonic, romantic, chaotic -- you name it!)

➼ And all types of fanworks!

Question Two: Well, are there any rules?

Short answer: There are!

Long answer:

Rule 1. The Prompts and Schedule are Optional!

Prompts are for inspiration, not restriction! Feel free to use the prompts, mix-and-match, post out of order, or throw everything out altogether. The world is your oyster!

Rule 2. Tag your ships!

People want to find their OTPs and avoid their NOTPs. Tagging ships is essential.

Rule 3. Use warnings for NSFW content!

I will only reblog sensitive/explicit material if it is censored or cropped. But that doesn't mean "don't make it"! It just means I am limited by platform restrictions.

Rule 5. The Most Important Rule!

Be kind to one another!

Please follow the three laws of fandom:

➼ Don't Like; Don't Read

➼ Your Kink is Not My Kink (And that's okay!)

➼ Ship and Let Ship

(And use tags!)

-----

Now, here's what you've all been waiting for. (Or maybe that's just me!)

The Prompt List!

November 27

❤️ "Meet & Greet"

How did Mista meet the object of his affection? How did he woo his current flame? (Or was he wooed instead?) Who made the first move?

Meet & Greet is about first meetings, first dates, first kisses. What is the start of something beautiful?

⭐ Mista x Allies

We all know Mista likes his friends. But does he LIKE-like his friends?

What if something canon-compliant where Mista dates his team. Or an AU where Mista's part of a different squad. Maybe an AU where a canon ally is now an enemy?

So many options!

November 28

❤️ "Run & Gun"

How do Mista and his partner run missions? How do they run for groceries?

Run & Gun could be about day-to-day life. Does Mista like to jog? How would he teach someone to shoot?

(Or maybe it's about fighting and shooting each other! Up to you!)

⭐ Mista x Enemies

We all might love Mista... but not everyone does (a shock! I know).

Would Mista befriend his enemies in true JoJo's fashion? Would Mista fall into a star-crossed romance, doomed for tragedy from the start? Would he forgive someone who betrayed him?

November 29

❤️ "Streets & Sheets"

Mista in the streets, still Mista in the sheets.

Streets & Sheets is about the difference between public life and private life.

Does Mista like public displays of affection? Could he keep a relationship a secret?

⭐ Mista x Anyone in Golden Wind

Anyone in Golden Wind canon is fair game, here. Anime, manga, novels, you name it.

(Also, listen... I think Mista could land Giorno's mom. And Giorno's dad. And also Giorno's mysterious gangster hero.)

November 30

❤️ "Wake up & Make-up"

Morning routines! Coffee, cuddling, curtain-fic. Who's the morning person? Who would rather DIE than wake up before noon?

Wake up & Make-up is about domesticity. Or maybe it's about Mista in drag! You know he'd rock a winged eyeliner.

⭐ Mista x Anyone in JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

Could you imagine if Mista, Hol Horse, and Foo Fighters met? What a wild adventure those three gun-toting hotties would have.

What if Mista were in a different Part? What if he met Joseph in his prime? Chaos.

December 1

❤️ "Short Skirts & T-Shirts"

Pining from afar, jealousy, falling in love with your neighbor... Could Mista keep his love to himself or does he wear his heart on his sleeve?

Or maybe this is the fashion episode. (Does he have a whole zoo of animal-print pants?)

⭐ Mista x Anyone outside of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

I'm thinking... Sherlock Holmes... SpongeBob Squarepants... Lassie. Literally anyone or anything is fair game here. Go wild!!!

December 2

❤️ "Showers & Flowers"

After it rains, life grows.

Showers & Flowers could be about recovering from adversity and trauma. We know Mista's had his fair share of both.

Or maybe it's about who hogs the shower, who brings flowers in apology, who likes the rain?

⭐ Mista x Your OC

This is your chance to ship Mista with your OC. Any OC. I mean it!

A JoJo's OC? Absolutely. Another anime OC? Yes PLEASE! Your D&D character? Live your best life! Your cringy middle-school cat boy OC? I would LITERALLY die for him.

December 3

❤️ "Happy Birthday"

A free day!

I'd honestly love it if everyone shared their favorite piece of someone else's work. Spread the love! Give the gift of Mista to the masses.

⭐ Mista x Your favorite character

Literally any character from anything, as long as they're your favorite. Gush about your favorite character, gush about Mista. Gush about Gushers. Gimme all those gooey feelings.

-----

And that's it! That's all the info I have. Feel free to DM me if you have any questions, any comments, any concerns. Above all, I want this account and this ship week to just express all the love in the world for one Guido Mista.

Have fun! Be positive!

How do you @ship-mista?

#guido mista #mista harem week 2022 #jjba golden wind

45 notes · View notes

thessalian · 2 years

Text

Thess vs Murder-Country

This has not been a particularly good day. Again.

A couple of good things. My JoCat goblin rogue turned up, and that was a bit of a cheering-up of the day. I am calling him Evan. Because tiny adorable rogue. (My D&D group will get that one, at minimum.) Also I did manage to salvage my mocha marble fudge (apparently vegan sweetened condensed milk kind of does things to the consistency, so stickier than I would have wanted, but still keeps a shape after suitable refrigeration and time to set) and that was a big hit at the office. And the backlog was down to about 120 reports when I left today! Of course, there are going to be people coming in and reporting at the weekend so it’s going to be heinous again by Tuesday, but at least it won’t be quite the monstrosity that existed when I came back from my week off. So that’s a weight off my mind.

No, it’s everything else.

Let’s start with the commute. Again. I actually checked the schedule for the 168 before I left this morning, and discovered that, yeah, there’s a minimum half-hour gap between one bus and the next at that time of day, for reasons that I simply cannot fathom. So my options for taking the bus would have had me arriving either heinously early or probably late. At which point I decided, fine, I’ll take the Overground, since there’s no strike action today. Except that the train I wanted to take from Peckham Rye was cancelled because a train broke down, but I thought, eh, still have plenty of time with the later one. So that later one took me to Clapham Junction, at which point I discovered that, at some point between my leaving the house and my arriving at Clapham Junction, there had been some kind of serious issue with a train somewhere along the track and, after a few minutes of dithering, they basically went, “Next train from this platform will be at 11am”.

I have to be at work at 11am.

Soooooooo lacking in other options, I had to cross the station to get on a train to Waterloo, get from there to the Northern Line, change trains at Camden to get the Edgware branch, and then the walk from Belsize Park to work. So much walking. I mean, I was only a couple of minutes late this time, at least, but I want to know what the fuck it is about Transport for London that it seems to be trying to force me into taking the Tube. WIth still no word from the IT bods about the finishing touches on my work laptop, I have no idea how much longer this is going to be a problem. More to the point, I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.

Anyway, obviously work was a nightmare as we -- well, at least as Temp and I -- busted our asses to get the typing queue down to a manageable level. I did try the microbreak thing, but the only way I can really justify that kind of thing is following the news and ... well. Among all the other absolute mess that’s going on at the moment, thing that was passing even under my radar was a plan by the Department of Work and Pensions to give DWP civil servants the power to search people’s homes in their investigations of benefit claimants and even make arrests. Look, the benefits system has ... okay, it hasn’t always been bad, but it’s been rapidly going downhill since the Tories got into office with the Tory / LibDem coalition in 2010. Benefit claimants have been painted as ‘benefit cheats’ and ‘scroungers’ harder and harder every year over the last twelve years, and the “guilty until proven innocent” mentality has been highly encouraged across the board. I mean, it’s bad enough that a lot of claims - and I mean a lot of claims - are routinely denied. Just ... out of hand. The kind of thing you wouldn’t think could even be a question a lot of the time. Some people wind up struggling for months while waiting for an appeal to be heard. Others just don’t have it in them to do so. For some, that’s the last straw. People die because of this shit.

So on top of all that, these assholes want some DWP person to be able to search your home for evidence that you don’t need to be on benefits? What kind of shit would they even be looking for? I’d imagine it’s the same kind of thing people point to and say, “Well, if they want to stop being poor, they shouldn’t buy stuff like [insert nice thing they own here]”. Like they couldn’t have bought it before things got bad, or received it as a gift. And where do you stop with “this person owns too many nice things”? Would they take any food that’s not the bare minimum cheap crap that will technically stave off starvation as “too nice for someone on benefits”? Takeout containers? Where does it stop?

According to the Tories, the theory behind all this is that if they threaten and bully and deprive people enough, they’ll actually go out and get a job. Except that something like 40% of people claiming benefits already have a job; that job just doesn’t make enough to keep body and soul together. A goodly percent of the rest simply can’t work, and certainly not full time. Apparently that’s not good enough. The disabled who can’t work full-time had better start, according to the Tories. The people who aren’t making enough at their first job to make ends meet had better get a second one, or a better one, according to the Tories. This as their stupid mini-budget apparently stands to carve a hole in the national finances to the tune of £60-70 billion. All of that tax cuts for corporations and borrowing to pay off power companies so that we don’t get hit with massive fuel bills this winter. (Well. More massive fuel bills this winter.)

Which apparently isn’t going to help anyway because they’re talking about three-hour blackouts over the course of the winter, just in case we run out of fuel. They call it a ‘just in case’ scenario, but given the ‘just in case’ scenarios they refused to consider over Brexit and Covid, I’m marking that in the diary as “it’s going to be worse than they’re saying”. And yet somehow they refuse to run a government information campaign about how to reduce energy use ... because “we are not a nanny state”. I mean, honestly, I kind of get it? When the energy companies sent out advice for if you couldn’t afford your heating bills, we got all pissed off at them for passing the responsibility over to us for their insane price rises. (Though seriously, the ones who literally sent their customers a pair of socks was the worst for that.) The government doesn’t want yet more of the national ire thrown at them.

IT’S GOING TO HAPPEN ANYWAY. The pound is tanking, the economy is shot, and what’s Truss doing? Yelling at people in this meeting of European countries to discuss the energy crisis to not have the EU flag anywhere lest some of the key Tory voters think we’re somehow going back into the EU. (News flash: they wouldn’t have us back if we wanted to go, not at this point, and if we ever could, it would not be under the extra-special exception-laden terms we had at the start.) Oh, and sacking another ranking MP (this one a minister of state in the trade department) for “serious misconduct”. This is the sixth minister the Tories have lost to that in eighteen months. This should give people some indication of how bad the entire party is at this point. But nope.

The only thing that even partially gets me through this is that at least I won’t have to discuss it with my mother. My mother, who insisted that a vote for anyone but the Tories was “stupid” back in 2019. Who insisted that Johnson was “just not a good public speaker”. I won’t have to listen to what she has to say about Truss because she’s backed the Tories’ focus on letting the wealthy corporations earn vast amounts of money because “think of the people whose pensions are tied up in ISAs! They’ll lose money if the companies lose money and their stock drops!” Which would be fine to a point ... except that the recent mini-budget nearly tanked all of that. Either there had to be a bailout or one was very much on the cards; I don’t quite remember. Either way, my mother is not so stupid that she can’t see that things are not right with the economy right now.

I should try to make dinner. Or at least put some food into my face. Maybe do something fun. Just ... I am so damn tired of this. This country basically hates me. I get a pass on some things because ... y’know, white. That’s a privilege and I own it. Thing is ... this country hates people that aren’t from here no matter their skin colour, and while I get a pass on a technicality (probably because English-speaking), there’s only so often one can hear “They should go back to their own country!” and not think it’s about you as much as anyone else. (The fact that they say it to people who were born here does not help.) This country hates people who aren’t cis (I’m sorry, but they do at this point - at least the loud assholes in power) and since I’m not ... well. And on top of all that, which I could more or less get away from because, again, I pass? I don’t pass in terms of disability. I’ve known for a long time that the Tories pretty much want the disabled to go away and die if they can’t do a full-time job or be inspiration porn or both. I can do neither.

Summary: from the transport network to my job to the government, this entire fucking country wants to kill me and I am really fed up and depressed about it. But I will probably be better once I put some food in my face. I’m a little worried that when the hangry wears off I’ll end up straight in depression mode, but you never know.

#Thess on politics #Thess on economics #Thess has a day job #Thess has a commute

5 notes · View notes

yeleltaan · 2 years

Text

@yellowfingcr | taken from here

“Ah, citizen!”

Hand over her heart, she offers a bow, a thing of exaggerated formality. To call the man before herself a friend would be a stretch, for she knows his face but knows him not, and the finery she wears of those who descend into the belly of the earth commands ceremoniousness- but Heysel is a woman who has began to consign her trust to the sybil machinery of gut feelings, and they are telling her low and quiet that she and the stranger before herself, who's keeping his hat off his head as a properly penitent man has to, most likely share the innate unfamiliarity with the place they stand within, a common otherness. He is in this city; it is not his city. It is less written upon the shape of him and more in the way he moves, in how occupies space, through word and muscle. And upon this shared bridge etiquette can burn.

“You have nothing to apologize for, sir. You weren’t rude in the slightest. Just wildly reckless,” she continues, her smile cutting long across her mouth. A single edge protrudes from her upper lip, white and sharp. “Is this something you routinely do to people you don’t know well? Prod until fangs are snapping inches from your face? I am not judging! It is a way like another to pass the time. But as it is, I’d find it unpleasant to hurt you in such a way, or any other. I do like to think I don’t have a reputation for tearing off pieces of meat from humans. I’d rather not begin planting the seed of it now.”

She waves a clawed hand off, dismissively, a motion like a summary: it doesn’t matter. Do not worry. Let us move on.

But it's with intrugue that she reaches for the little gift, feeling the cloth-concealed shape under her fingers.

“Bribery, now? Not only treated like a starved wolf to provoke for your entertainment, but a starved wolf that can be corrupted! Woe is me!” A wink. “I jest, I jest. You didn’t have to, still. There is truly no slight you have done that needs the mending of material offerings. May I ask what this is?”

“Well, not routinely, no. I don’t make a habit of provoking people- less so a lady who has been nothing if not considerate towards me. But, I don’t mean to imply that it was personal either. I suppose I’d chalk it up to an embarrassing lapse in my judgement. ” Building off the whimsical eccentricism of the hunter, the gestures accompanying his speech become more pronounced, but measured nevertheless. Best that he be too careful and receive further encouragement to ease up than to overestimate the extent to which she wants her lively mannerisms reciprocated. No matter how prettily arranged, how nicely they complement her expressions, it's difficult to ignore the sharpness of those fangs.

And again, he has to quickly lift his gaze to meet hers. Don’t stare, Cayin.

Though the tease is evident in her response to the messenger’s offering, his mouth opens as if to defend himself, remains ajar only to close shut as she makes her admission of witticism. A quick nod follows her question. “It’s something I found during my own descent into the dungeons. For all my curiosity, I am utterly clueless as to many of the things you handle daily, so I figured you might know what it is. Or at least, find out sooner than I could.” his finger taps against the solid object underneath the covering. “Go on, take a look.”

Once unveiled, it would reveal itself to be a neatly shaped stone with carvings on its sides she’d recognize from her own ventures into the chalice depths, or most of them. The figure at the center clashes with the rest, almost as if working against the encompassing symbols, but it bears an antiquity comparable to other ancient findings of the depths. The peculiar icon in question: five straight lines rising from the bottom to the center, crowned by a horizontal oval connected to the middle line, simplistic yet very deliberate in its symmetry and distribution of space.

“It reminds me of those runes you hunters use. At least the little things around the edges. But I don’t think I’ve seen that central ‘glyph’ anywhere else. Think it might be some kind of charm?”

#yellowfingcr #...seen anywhere in Yharnam that is :]#I should make tags to differentiate different versions of each muse

5 notes · View notes

pandawriterstuff · 2 years

Text

I finished it. Holy crap.

I am literally half a sentence away from finishing my WIP. That has never happened with anything over maybe 5000 words. This is a couple hundred over 35,000. I only started it on June 20th and it is *half a sentence* away from being done.

It's a Fast & Furious Au of the first movie, the premise is what if it all happened right after Brian got out of juvie instead of after a few years as a cop. It's very heavily leaning on the idea of found family, parts are definitely cheesy, and the plot is basically 'the team finds out Brian is a narc and this actually makes a lot of things better'. I love every word and will post a link below in case anyone is interested (lol, I'd love that), but that's not really the point. I spent so long *not* finishing things. I have things written that are far longer than this, like +100,000. Things that deal with topics this briefly touches or skirts past because it is mostly meant to be a feel good piece with (hopefully) depth. Things that I spent years on. Some of them aren't even fanfiction, lol.

But I finished this. I did it, actually went back and finished the one sentence left in the middle of writing this post. In less than three months. I am both incredibly proud of myself and like, kind of in shock. It's done. It feels like this means I can do it. Writing everyday (almost) wound up being easier than I expected, and I do better with a steady routine anyway. I've just started a new job and won't have as much free time, but What it is exactly, other than 'keep writing things and finishing them' I don't really know. But still. It.

I both do and don't regret posting it on AO3 before it was finished. If I hadn't I'd probably let it sit for a month, do a general pass over it and then do one specifically to add more descriptions of sounds, smells, probably colors. Areas I really want to flesh out in my writing. Make things pop. On the other hand, having people subscribe, bookmark, leave kudos and especially comments, was incredibly encouraging and had me wanting to finish each pov piece so I could post and see the reactions. Some of the comments had me exploring things I might not have otherwise,and the sense of community when a comment and my response turned into a discussion was *chef's kiss*. But what might I have come up without them that could have been just as interesting to explore?

Also, if anyone is looking for a quality writing book I highly recommend Several Short Sentences About Writing by Verlyn Klinkenborg. I haven't read any of his other stuff yet, but I need to, because oh boy, did I love this book. Like reading prose poetry, yet it is an incredibly clear and easy read that taught me so much. It definitely impacted my writing here and will do so in the future.

And now that everyone has quit reading like three paragraphs ago. I will share that link.

So, The Buster's a Narc...

Summary:

Slowing now, and motioning for Jesse to stay back and keep low, Vince started sidling around the side of the house, following sounds of muffled moving, a few thumps. If the Buster was over here fucking shit up for fun or to let off steam, he was gonna kick him square in his ass. Maybe the balls too, for good measure. But no, squatting down in the overgrown grass so he could see down into the daylight basement, that wasn’t what the Buster was doing. What he was doing was getting slammed back into a concrete wall so his head cracked against it, a real official looking guy in a suit shouting in the kid’s face. This time when Vince told Jesse what to do there was no protest, his wiry legs eating up the ground as he ran for home and Dom.

#fanfiction #fast & furious #writeblr #the fast and the furious #ao3fic #I can't believe I did it #my writing

6 notes · View notes

evaofkonoha · 2 months

Note

Hey Eva!

I couldn’t wonder the first time I saw your name if you are German? Eva is a typical German name lmao ( I know this is kinda random) Still, I’m happy to stay up to date on tumblr (even though I still didn’t get the concept （╹◡╹)

I also would like to start and write my own stories, do you have any tips that could be helpful?

Have a nice day ( ^ω^ )

Hello! Thank you for sending in a little ask, I love getting them~

I didn't know that Eva is a common German name! Needless to say, I am not German 😅 I'm American! I am also happy that you were able to find me over here as well!

I am so excited hear that you are interested in writing some fic of your own! 🥰 that's super exciting! As for advice...? I would say (in my very unofficial opinion) to really lean into what you love and follow the ideas that make you excited to write, no matter how niche they may seem. And honestly? Just do it! There's no time like now to just go for it! Sometimes a project can seem daunting, but the best way to tackle it is one word at a time 💕

Some tips I have cone up with? (Sorry if they suck, trial and error is necessary)

Find a consistent time to write each day. You will get in a routine over time and find that you are creative and ready to write at that time!

Start small. Don't take on a 100k fic project starting out. 1k drabbles are beautiful and perfectly valid. Not everything has to be a colossal project, and if anything starting really big can be discouraging.

Writing is a skill that takes practice. It's a craft that the more we practice the better we get! If you aren't happy with your works for whatever reason--quality, style, etc--keep writing!

Study works you love (fanfic and otherwise). Look at them with a more analytical eye. Why do you like them? How is the author writing? What words do they use? What is the pacing like and how is that achieved? These are things you can use to craft your own stories!

Never skip grammar. Grammar *is* important imo. Yes, we can take creative liberties! And fanfic is written to be fun! But I know I feel the best about my writing when I am writing my best.

Don't be afraid to ask for help! Beta's and friends and all of that can be a fantastic asset. I have found generally most people in fandom are friendly and helpful! (Not all, but you can usually catch a vibe pretty quick and keep moving along). It can be daunting, but you never know who you might become friends with! I was a massive fan of my beta's work and somehow we became friends and now help each other with our works! (And play Dominion hehehe)

Sorry if that is terribly generic or too much! But I always want to encourage others to write and create when I can and am happy to help how I can!

💚💚💚

Ty for the ask and for always leaving such wonderful comment on INYT! I'm always overjoyed to see them in my inbox

#Ask #ask answered #Writing #I am not qualified to give this advice #But I am trying

0 notes

talturing · 3 months

Text

Losing Weight at 60

Hey, I lost some weight so I have to say something

I've done some things in my life that I am proud of and some that I am not-so-proud. But fewer are those that impressed me after the fact; and losing weight is something I have done before but to lose weight, again, at 60 years old, in the way I did, and the amount I did, well I am impressed with myself. It won't be something that anyone would ever remember me for. On the surface it is not all that impressive especially in a world where you can find a thousand stories of people who went from 400 pounds, sky-high blood pressure and barely able to stand; then, one year later, running marathons and looking like a fitness model. But being impressed, about anything, has something to do with understanding the associated difficulties and although I am not now participating in extreme sports and my physical looks would not turn your head, I think impressed is the appropriate word.

Why blog about it? As usual, one blogs to share and hopefully to help or aid someone else's thinking or endeavors. But, so you know, my story is not very dramatic, without alot of tears, joyful jumping-in-the-air or life-changing transformations and breakthroughs. I remain, pretty much, the same person I was but, as I said, I am both happy and impressed with my accomplishments. Don't get me too wrong, losing weight, for everyone, is a frustrating, difficult thing and many people blame themselves when they are not successful. But the way I see it, all significant goals are the similar; we aspire, we dream, we try and very often we do not succeed, whether it has to do with launching a successful business, finding a life partner, raising children or even balancing our check books. Somehow, our weight is measured differently, perhaps because almost all of us were content with our weight for the first XX years of our lives and then we lost it. Maybe it's like losing your keys - you know you had it once so it's infuriating that now its gone. How often do you find someone beating themselves up because they aren't as athletic as they "used to be" or as healthy as the "used to be" or as happy as they "used to be". Adulthood and aging brings challenges and most of all change.

Okay, but let me get to it. First just a little background (I promise): I am a 60 year-old man (strange to see me write that) and growing up I was mildly athletic but introverted. I weighted about 150 lbs in high school and that number grew to 220 lbs by the time I was 40. By that time I was married and my wife did all the cooking. A few times since then, I have been able to lose 10-20 pounds but eventually gaining it back. I have joined gyms on and off and have been fairly healthy except for recurring back pain. In this last attempt (I am not so naive to think there will be never be another), I went from about 210 pounds to currently 172 pounds and my goal was 180.

But it didn't happen fast. In the end, it took about 2 years: an average of less than 2 pounds a month. Not a week, a MONTH. It wasn't easy, it was frustrating and I took mild breaks. That doesn't mean that I gave up, just that there might be a week or two where I dropped my routine. The good new, is that toward the end, to my surprise, it got easier and the weight came off faster than before. This is important. Even doing the right things and following my routine, it was still very slow at the start and it was easy to get frustrated and I was often frustrated.

Tip #1 - you have to be in it to win it. That doesn't mean that I was going crazy with exercise or dieting or anything like that. It means that I thought about my routine every day. Even on days when I didn't follow my routine. Still, I thought about it, I reminded myself of my goals, I took the time to be frustrated or to be encouraged or simply to be determined to keep trying. Encouragement from others is probably very important but in my case I didn't have that. I did not really talk about it with others, but that's just me.

Tip #2 - don't go crazy. Set some reasonable expectations. I did not follow any diet. I started to exercise regularly (3-4 times a week) and I watched what I ate. I did not restrict myself from anything but I started to keep to the foods I really enjoyed and ate less of the other stuff. This might be why it was so slow but again it was better to set reasonable expectations than to see great results. I thought about what I was eating. I ignored things that I did not like and started to only eat things I loved especially when it came to fast food or dessert.

Tip #3 - control what you eat. A better way to say that: DON'T LET OTHERS TELL YOU WHAT TO EAT OR DRINK. Yes, they love you and care about you but people just don't take other people's weight loss seriously enough. This is really important. You may not always make the best choices but get used to thinking about what you eat, what snacks you choose, and what you order off the menu. Don't let others bring you drinks and ALWAYS CONTROL YOUR PORTION SIZE! That doesn't mean small portions, it means you are the person who decides how much to put on your plate. Again, if you are going to have a banana split, it should be because you decided that is what you want. Not because your friend decided not to eat theirs and pushed it to you. Don't let people use "wasting food" as a reason why you should eat it. This is hard for people and it will be for you too but you'll get used to it. Sometimes people will just bring you fast food or a desert as a present/surprise. Yes, that was nice of them but don't allow it. As a rule, I now never accept food as a gift. If I think they won't handle it well, then I accept the gift and throw it out later (yes, I will throw it out). As a rule, I will always reject these 'gifts' even if it is exactly as I want. Now, my friends and family are used to it.

Tip #4 - track your weight. I really hate weighing myself and I don't do it every day but aim for once a week. Yes, it SUCKS, sometimes you will be down and many times you won't. Just weight yourself, write it down and move on. In the beginning, it will just go up and down with only a slow gradual drop. Be persistent. I used a weight loss app. It is very simple, I enter a date and a weight and it gives me a graph and some stats. See below I was down 2 lbs for the month, only 0.7 lbs for that week. Those are numbers you won't see on television but look at the total: down 36 lbs over 2 years.

#weight loss journey #getting older

0 notes