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pillarmenarevoregods · 3 years

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Ask: Macro/Micro Vore Pillar Men and Joseph Joestar

First off, I am so so SO sorry for how long this took. Both real life responsibilities and the double standards I hold myself to about creating “quality content” meant my answer to this prompt sat in a half-finished state for a long time. I figure I should just post what I have now and hope it’s sufficient.

@delcaty007 (JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, Macro/Micro Vore, Multiple Pred Scenarios, M/M, Non-fatal, Unwilling, Fearplay, Mentions of Digestion)

I had several ideas for this, and kind of debated which ones were worth fleshing out (or at least what I’d have the time/motivation for). This might not be fully fleshed out stories, but I hope it’s cool still.

I’m writing this in a premise of post-Battle Tendency, through some means, the Pillar Men come back to seek revenge: Kars is brought back from space, Esidisi and Wamuu are revived, and Santana is out of the Speedwagon vaults. BUT they are 30 feet tall and have no idea why/how that happened. They also find many of their abilities missing, BUT also can be in the sun! Yay! And then they find out the hard way that they can’t digest anything. Joseph’s gonna be stuck in a couple different belly jails.

I decided to write these in the order that Joseph fought the Pillar Men in canon. These can technically be independent scenarios of each other, or you can imagine it as the pillar men taking turns sending Joseph down the hatch if you want. I hope you enjoy!

Santana

He sure remembers how annoying that little primitive named Joseph Joestar was to him, and he’s going to find out what happened to him

He quickly learns about the events that transpired with his fellow Pillar Men and knows Joseph is alive

He actually wanted to seek out that Major Von Stroheim asshole first, because of well… I wouldn’t blame him. However he finds out Stroheim died and well, a little disappointing, at least there’s still JoJo to seek out

Once he locates him, Santana literally plunges his hand into the roof of Joseph’s home and grabs him

Joseph attempts to hamon him, but is shocked that… it no longer affects the pillar man. And how did he even get this large?

Santana smirks, considering it dumb for JoJo to even try using hamon when he’s literally outside in the daylight, unharmed.

Deep booming chuckle, “You idiot primitive…” and he starts squeezing Joseph in his hand, thinking it’ll be satisfying to feel his bones snap.

THEN his stomach gurgles and he has a better idea

Without another word, he quickly pops Joseph in his mouth, tilts his head back and swallows him faster than Joseph can process what just happened.

Joseph goes down Santana’s throat in shock, thrashing, trying to climb his way back up, but the muscles of Santana’s esophagus are no match and pull him down to his doom.

Joseph lands on what seems to be trees, brush, and random animals (still alive). It seems like Santana tried swallowing a LOT of different things

Somewhat to his relief, Joseph notices that nothing has really digested.

Santana, on the other hand, can’t care less about what’s happening inside his stomach. He has that annoying JoJo right where he belonged. The weight in his stomach and the occasional minor sting of attempted hamon only tickled a bit.

Joseph wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and Santana likewise said nothing when meeting back up with the other Pillar Men.

The first thought on their minds was to find Joseph too, and Santana had to press his tongue in his cheek at knowing that he simultaneously got to stick it to Kars by eating his “mortal enemy” before he could.

Esidisi

He remembers how he died, and while on one hand respects Joseph for winning against him, isn’t going to pass up the opportunity to get his own revenge

Finds Joseph out on a solo boating trip (convenient, right?) and all Joseph can see is some massive force swimming in the water rushing towards him

Esidisi rises up like a colossal beast, picking Joseph’s boat out of the water

“JoooJooo, it’s been a while, huh? What, like 10 years?” Esidisi makes sure to smile wide and show off his sharp teeth, bringing the small boat in his hand closer to his face.

Joseph probably pisses himself (let’s be real), screaming “OH MY GOD” or “HOLY SHIT,” which is music to Esidisi’s ears, causing him to belt out laughing.

“Didn’t think you’d see me again, didya?!” Joseph doesn’t even have a response, he’s just thrashing and yelling at this point

“You remember our conversation about the Art of War, yeah? Well I hope you do. Sun Tzu told me one more bit of advice that has truly been the most beneficial to me...”

He lifts Joseph up above his face, “’Keep your friends close, your enemies even closer.’” before dropping Joseph in his open mouth.

Esidisi hums in appreciation as Joseph flails on his tongue before jerking his head back and giving a thorough swallow to send him down.

He places his hand over his stomach, relishing in the sensation of pounding helplessly at his stomach walls, and feeling confident that he can go back to Kars to report that JoJo has been “taken care of.”

After a long while of walking and swimming through the ocean, he notices Joseph was still active inside him. He would have started digesting by now, right?

Esidisi figures all that physical motion may be disrupting digestion, so he finds a coast to sit on and waits it out, occasionally making small remarks to the man inside him

Gets frustrated and cries eventually because why won’t he digest?? Esidisi at first accepted that there were caveats to being alive again and being able to see the Sun finally, but come on

He already couldn’t use his blood vessels, couldn’t absorb the only advantage he had was being giant and still being able to contort his body, and now he can’t even digest someone he’s eaten?

Joseph meanwhile is yelling and pounding on the stomach walls, trying to hamon his way out. Esidisi is very pleased to see that the hamon is ineffective inside him, in fact it just tickles a bit.

The little pounding and yelling and screams eventually become annoying, though. Esidisi has some important pondering he needs to do on what his new life is now, and the squirming noisy human in his stomach keeps distracting him.

He sits down somewhere to ponder whether the trade-offs are worth it, has to tell Joseph, “Shut up and let me think!”

Wamuu

When Wamuu “woke back up” and noticed his masters had, too, one of his first thoughts was strangely where Joseph Joestar was currently.

He wondered whether Kars had succeeded in killing him and taking ascended as the Ultimate Being.

However, when he saw Lord Kars, also made giant by whatever spell or curse has brought them all back to life and made them 30 feet tall, Wamuu could quickly assume by the tantrum he was throwing that Joseph had also defeated him in some way.

While Wamuu didn’t exactly WANT Joseph to defeat himself or Lord Kars, he still believed in a fair fight and that a winner should be able to keep their victory.

Hearing Kars and Esidisi plot together to find Joseph and enact revenge on him (hell, even Santana is making comments about finding “that annoying JoJo”), Wamuu realizes if he wants to ensure his opponent could keep his honor, he’ll have to find the Joestar before the other Pillar Men did.

While locating him, Wamuu picks up and swallows a bunch of humans (he’s a nervous eater, he needs to snack under pressure you know?)

After several hours of the humans still pounding and yelling inside of his stomach, he realizes something was off… they should have been digesting by now, yet they’re still alive and active

Wamuu thinks it’s only fair to spit them up and let them go. He’s a little embarrassed and tactfully apologizes to these humans, “I did not expect for you to still be alive. Please forgive me, if I had known you weren’t going to digest I wouldn’t have swallowed you in the first place.” Thanks good guy Wamuu, very reassuring.

When he does find Joseph (on a camping trip in the middle of the woods, alone…), he kneels down in a clearing just as Joseph is about to approach that area.

Boy is he surprised to see a giant man kneeling in the normally empty field, especially a man he killed 10 years ago… but giant

“JoJo, we meet again.” Queue the “OH! MY! GODDD!” and trying to runaway classic Joseph Joestar style

Wamuu picks him up like an ant between his fingers and brings him closer to his face.

“I am doing this for your own good, JoJo.” and he opened his mouth wide, held a squirming yelling little Joseph over his mouth and dropped him in, tossed his head back and swallowed.

Unfortunately Wamuu forgot to tell Joseph that he wasn’t going to die, only places his hand unconsciously over his stomach, kneading his thumb into the area Joseph is pounding at

When meeting with his Masters (who were unsuccessful at finding Joseph… gee I wonder why) still has his hand over his belly, trying to sooth the commotion inside.

Kars even asks if Wamuu is ill, to which Wamuu responds with “I ate something that isn’t agreeing with me.” Well, he’s not wrong

He will have to let Joseph out… eventually. But right now he just wants to keep him safe and hidden. When that will be? No one knows - especially not Wamuu or Joseph....

Kars

Oh, this man is NOT happy. All that time in space, going slowly insane? Yeah, he has it in for Joseph Joestar.

Just shortly after he stops thinking, he finds himself rapidly pulled back to Earth and suddenly much larger than he remembers being before.

It takes him a bit to gain all his thoughts back, but of course he’s elated once he realizes his companions are back as well.

After rejoicing the return of Esidisi and Wamuu (maybe at least a little happy to see Santana again, as well), he went about pursuing his new important goal

Joseph Joestar needed to feel the fear and despair he himself felt while drifting through space. He decided he wouldn’t kill him… yet.

He needed to see Joseph suffer the same way he had, killing him too quickly would just end that fun.

Kars wanted to take Joseph down in the most humiliating way - it’s only fair after being defeated in front of his enemies in such a humiliating way.

Joseph happened to be at his work office, doing business as usual in his life free of being a hamon warrior

Therefore, it was absolutely unexpected when a giant hand plunges through the glass pane window, grabs Joseph off-guard and holds him tightly in front of the face of the man in his nightmares.

In fact, he seriously just thinks he’s dreaming. Joseph covers his eyes and yells, “I’m dreaming! This is a dream! I’m going to wake up now in three, two, one…..”

Kars waits a beat for dramatic effect before hissing “Zero.” He licks his lips, being able to sense the pure dread and terror of his prey. Oh, it’s making him absolutely giddy

“I want you to know what it feels like, JoJo… To have all your hopes and dreams unfairly stolen from you.” Kars raises him high above his head, and watches the little man squirm. He’s definitely finding this cathartic.

“I drifted through space, not knowing if I’d ever escape that torture. All of my accomplishments going to waste, because of you! I believe it’s only fair, JoJo, that I give you a taste of what I experienced.”

Without much effort, he casually tosses Joseph high up in the air (but not too hard, because he doesn’t want Joseph to actually go into space

As Joseph falls back down from the sky, Kars waits with his mouth wide open and snaps his jaw shut once the screaming man lands in his mouth.

He doesn’t wait long before swallowing, while focusing on ever little sensation of his enemy wriggle down his throat. Finally, he’s conquered the Sun AND Joseph Joestar.

Even after several hours and realizing his stomach wasn’t digesting his prey, Kars accepted that it was poetic justice in a way that Joseph would remain alive, trapped for an indefinite amount of time in his stomach, just like he had been trapped in space

#jjba vore #pillar men vore #unwilling vore #nonfatal vore #gt vore

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bigmeatymudcrabchitins · 3 years

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A not-so-brief overview of my Skyrim Dova OCs bc i need to scream to the digital void about my ideas

Freyora Lind, more commonly known by her strange alias “Bjorne Icepick”

A Nord-eventually-turned-werewolf who orphaned during the Great War and taken in by a Dunmeri mercenary whose residence was in Windhelm’s Gray Quarter. Grew up in a cramped boarding house setting among desperate mercenaries of varying backgrounds. Many of them would all come and go, but there was always some sort of a familial bond between them all.

From a young age she got in a lot of fights against people who insulted her for living in the Gray Quarter among the dark elves. Eventually she took a fight too far and was jailed for murder around 14, but was broken out shortly after by a band of masked vampires. Turns out some of her mercenary comrades unwittingly caught vampirism during a contract to clear out a vampire den and had to skip town, but not before ensuring one of their own wasn’t left to rot.

Lived in Cyrodil for about 15 years, but returned to Skyrim pursuing rumors surrounding a cure to vampirism, as her adoptive father would be nearing the end of his elven lifespan and had wished to die a normal death.

Seeing as she was literally a fugitive, and her long-belated parents were somewhat renowned for their battlefield prowess, she took on a false identity. AND an act to match it.

She’ll eat raw meat, chase prey with swords instead of using a bow like a normal person, harp about irrational conspiracy theories, and more. Everyone’s foul reactions to her outlandish act are plainly hilarious to her and only encourage her to act even stranger.

The alias “Bjorne Icepick” was simply the most ridiculous name she could think of.

Not the most morally outstanding. Besides drunken brawling, she’ll steal from anyone who angers her, even if it’s things she literally won’t ever need such as all the goblets in a household. It’s the pettiness that counts. “Try drinking your damn high-end wine now, jackass.”

Calls Dwarven Automatons “Gundams.” Including she herself, no one knows what that means.

Joins the Companions out of homesickness and a desire to fill in a gap that leaving home left.

Hasn’t bothered curing herself of lycanthropy because her whole schtick is being incredibly resourceful, and that includes using any means of power necessary. Still doesn’t fancy Hircine’s Hunting Grounds as her desired afterlife, though.

As her journey goes on, however, her lightheartedly eccentric face starts to fall off as a number of events push her to begin to question the legitimacy of her actions up until that point.

Some of which include the eventual death of her adoptive father (and how she was indirectly responsible for it even if it was what he wanted), Delphine’s ultimatum, the civil war as a collective, learning the tragic history behind the Falmer and the original Companions’ role in it, and killing of Vyrthur (no matter how much he genuinely deserved it).

She grows disgusted by herself down to the core. She takes to skooma to cope, and starts to be plagued by serious skooma-induced side effects. She ends up shutting herself away from all her responsibilities and distancing herself from her friends.

Does she get better? Maybe. I haven’t thought up anything past this point lol

Moureneris Alta

A very, VERY ancient vampiric snow elf, (though it’s notable she was born a considerable amount of time after the razing of Sarthaal)

Survived many atrocities. Stayed in isolation with a band of vampires for countless years out of sheer disgust for the nature of the sapient races. (I’ll explain her full story some other time. It’s pretty complicated)

She was abducted from her isolated lifestyle by a certain person i’ll talk about later. She managed to free herself south of Skyrim, and uh, walks right into that Imperial ambush. The rest is history.

Super ignorant to modern society as a result of centuries of isolation. Exploited for comedic relief. (“What in the name of Oblivion is a Cyrodilic Empire? Are you messing with me? And please, how does levitation magic simply get outlawed by this hypothetical Empire? What are you to do when you fall down a crevice? Just... let yourself perish? How degrading.)

She reintegrated herself into society with vengeance in mind under the belief that all humans are savage bloodlusting murderers who had to answer for their treachery. (And she was royally angry there was no Dwemer left to spite, but partially satisfied at the same time). But she grows conflicted after being shown genuine kindness, even as early as being freed from her binds in Helgen.

Subsequently has a very muddled redemption arc. Queue Dragonborn hero stuff

She has impaired vision, but she cultivated detect life magic to aid her in daily life and combat (think Hyakkimaru from Dororo ‘19 and his soul detection or Toph Beifong from ATLA and her seismic sense). At her peak, she can detect life from about a kilometer away.

She can just barely read, but only if she holds the text incredibly close to her face, not to mention her Cyrodilic lessons were left unfinished after her abduction, making reading a very taxing process. Weary travelers are often spooked at the sight of a floating, ghastly looking elven woman with her nose pressed up against crossroad signs, and it has become somewhat of an urban legend.

Isn’t as nearly as skilled with detecting the dead and tenses up in burial crypts or around other vampires for that reason. Unfortunately, being the Dragonborn and all, she finds herself in a lot of crypts...

When questioned about her background due to her unique appearance: “Oh, yeah. My mother was one of those mer from the east. You know the ones. Dark elves, I think? And my father was one of those er, tall elv- no, sorry, HIGH elves. Yeah. They both died in a big fire or something though. It was horrible. I can’t get the noxious smell or the deafening screams out of my head. Good talk, but never ask me about that again.”

Queue sheltered old immortal antics: “Wow, you’re THAT old? Enlighten me on how it felt witnessing the fall of the Dwemer. Or perhaps the rise of Tiber Septim’s Empire. The Gates of Ob-“ “Oblivion if I know. I lived in someone’s basement for thousands of years. And I still don’t know what everyone means by Empire. You all are messing with me, aren’t you? That really annoys me.”

She ultimately returns to faith in Auri-El and makes it her life’s purpose to help the Betrayed find peace, as well as to seek out any remaining snow elf groups. Probably good friends with Gelebor or something.

Had a crush on Serana. We all know how THAT went. Damned temples.

Was originally gonna spiral into a much darker corruption arc (another ATLA comparison being Jet or Hama) but I just felt bad for her. Moureneris can have a little found peace. As a treat.

That’s her preliminary design made. I’ll need a mod to properly play her, because that right there was made by choosing Dunmer as her race. But I can’t do that. I’m on console, and while I got the Steam port a month ago, my PC’s stone age specs can’t handle Skyrim yet and I’ll need to wait until I can afford a better graphics card (thanks economic inflation)

Alexandre Armasi, jokingly nicknamed Alexandre the Curious

A complete and unapologetic export of my character from a dead and unfinished DND campaign. Except there are no Aasimar in Skyrim, so he’s half Altmer half Bosmer. And his initial last name was Armas but I thought Armasi suited his Skyrim counterpart more, as subtle a change it is.

He’s mainly Bosmer in appearance and constitution, save for his hair and eyes, which are more similar to that of his Altmeri father’s.

I can’t really export his original backstory though because the campaign wouldn’t translate well into TES lore at all.

He’s a writer who came wandering into Skyrim in search of inspiration. While he mainly writes dramatic fables, he wanted to divert his focus to crafting his own bestiary and herbal compendium surrounding Skyrim’s fauna and flora. The ones at home are simply too vague to him!

He’s very altruistic, wishing to spread cheer wherever he goes, through the art of song (even though he was a cleric in DND and not a bard. My bad.) However, many of his verses are just blatant self promotions of his published fables.

But he’s too naive for his own good. Dangerously so. In fact, he says what’s on his mind with little forethought, with little grasp on the consequences of his actions, which lands him in lots of trouble. “I don’t favor him myself, but you guys kill people over Talos worship? That’s not very cool. A bit scary, if you ask me.” or “A Stormcloak rebel? Didn’t your leader kill a bunch of Reachmen rebels years back, or so I’ve heard. By the divines that’s not a man I’d make a symbol of nonconformity.”

He’s also insatiably curious. The type to ACTUALLY shove alchemic ingredients in his mouth with no knowledge of their properties, experiment with dangerous rune spells, throw rocks at pressure plates, and more. Needless to say he’s very accident prone.

Doesn’t know common curse words. People exploit this for laughs. Think that episode of Spongebob.

Everyone is a little baffled that HE of all people is the prophesied Dragonborn of legend. This agonizingly imbecilic writer who has absentmindedly wandered into burial crypts, troll dens, bandit forts, and more, too busy juggling his manuscripts to pay attention to his surroundings.

His past doesn’t exactly reflect his outlook on life. His mother and father fought in the Great War aligned with the Imperials despite their elven background. Both managed to live to see the war’s conclusion, but his father vanished without a trace shortly after, and it seems his mother knows something she won’t tell him.

With plenty of exposure to bad influences, his innocence is slowly lost throughout the course of his journey, and his altruism begins to grow twisted. But nevertheless, he maintains his jovial, social persona, except this time with much darker undertones. Kinda like a creepy dentist or something.

Whoops. He winds up becoming a feared Dark Brotherhood assassin. (Haha get it “Innocence Lost”???) He somehow deluded himself into thinking that the life of an assassin was the right thing to do. But he’s a funky little guy so he gets a pass for his heinous crimes against society

#skyrim #skyrim oc #dragonborn #dovahkiin

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apollothe-sungod · 2 years

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Inventory- OC Tag Meme

Heyooo! I found this and I thought: why not. I don’t really know how tag games work, sooo, i might have gotten it wrong smh

I’m just gonna do Apollo for now, but, if you wanna see this with another character, send me ⚔️ + OC! And I’ll do it as soon as i can :)

Tags: @deliahscrush2003 [] @boolovesyouu [] @parislover909

Rules: [ [ Bold what applies + repost ] ]

Apollo Ryu

This was pretty fun :o boutta do a bunch more of these and add em to my queue lmaoo </3 i have too much time sometimes ngl

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marmolady · 4 years

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Growing Pains: Part Three

PART ONE PART TWO

Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f)

Summary: Post-ending. For Liv and her mothers, Taylor and Estela, a turbulent period of transition is afoot. Set primarily in the distant future of 2033.

Word Count: 5678

More Liv fics here: Livita, Teething Problems, Milestones and Memories, Mutual Comfort, All That Matters

Reviews and reblogs are hugely appreciated!

Tagging: @brightpinkpeppercorn, @mrsmontoya, @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @quinnkellys-wife, @greengroove

La Huerta, 2033

The sun slowly began to set, and a cool breeze came in from the sea. The reunion was in full swing, and Taylor, had found her way poolside, the traditional centre of all activity. The energy all around her was wonderfully refreshing after all the time she’d spent hiding herself away from the world; the sounds of the most familiar of voices as her friends caught up with one another, therapeutic. She was far too much of an extrovert to isolate herself; she knew that now.

Sitting down at the bar, it only took a few skilled flourishes of bottles before Raj was handing her a signature drink.

“It’s been a little while since I’ve had one of these,” she laughed. The joys of pregnancy. Worth it, but she’d be lying if she wasn’t a little relieved it was all over in time for the reunion. “Mm, that’s fruity! And just the right amount of kick to it. I say this every year, but you really do know me.”

“Another happy customer at the BhandarBar? You know there’s nothing I’d rather hear!” Raj beamed. He came around the bar and sat beside Taylor, sensing a need in her. “I feel like we haven’t hung out in ages-- last time I saw you, you had a baby on board. How has life been treating you, Taylor, my friend?”

“Oh, you know. My whole body gearing up for looking after baby, and then trying to tell it ‘no, that’s not what’s happening, here’; that’s been a bit of a challenge. My mood swings have been epic. I know she already did deserve one, but christ, Estela deserves a medal. Liv as well. I swear I’ve been like a walking hormone or something.”

“Well, if you need someone to lay it all on….”

He didn’t even get to finish. Taylor had her arms around him, hugging him tight. Where the tears were coming from now, she didn’t quite know. Maybe it was just a release of everything she’d been carrying these past months. But come they did, thick and fast.

“That’s it, bro. Let it all out. I’ve got plenty of shirts if you get boogers on this one--”

Taylor spluttered, laughing until she made herself choke and cough. “I don’t even know why I’m crying! That’s just me right now. A little bit useless.” Well, if you talk like that, you’re gonna be sobbing all night.

“You? Never. We have witnesses! You are definitely not useless. You just need a bit of Taylor Time right now. You’re allowed to take some Taylor Time.”

“For how long?” Taylor sighed. “Liv’s only nine-- sorry, nine and three-hundred-and-sixty-four days. That distinction is important to her. But she needs me. My body’s all geared up to be a mom, but with Liv I feel like I just can’t do anything. Some days I couldn’t even get out of bed.”

“Trust me. I’ve had those days. You know I’ve had those days. And listening when your mind and body need a rest isn’t a bad thing. If Liv was feeling the way you were, what would you have her do?”

Taylor pouted. “Who told you you could use my double standards to pep talk me? Fine! I’d tell her to be kind to herself. Every time.”

“So. What are you going to do?”

“Be… kind to myself,” Taylor said begrudgingly. Damn you, Raj. I can’t argue with that logic.

“We’re going to home-school Livi. For a year, use that time to reassess where we want to be in life. I’m a little nervous, but… I like that I’m going to be more proactive in her life. I’m glad I had Michael; having him was one of the best things I’ve ever done, but I want to be able to put my energy into Liv, and Estela, our little unit. Mostly, I’m excited. I am so, so ready to feel like a mom again.”

“Aw, Taylor-baby, you always were. But I getcha, sometimes you kind of lose a part of yourself in all that life throws up. And whatever life wants to throw at Liv, you guys got her back. She’s done all right for herself with you two.”

Exhaling, wiping away those stupid tears-- hadn’t she cried enough?-- Taylor nestled into a warm hug. Raj was a talented man, but no more so than in his ability to make everything feel all right. Together, her family had weathered many storms, and their bond would carry them through any still to come.

_____________________________

La Huerta, 2027

A resounding crack of lightning had Liv dive under the blankets, shaking in her Batman pyjamas. To her, it felt as though the storm had been raging for hours. Never had she heard the sky sound so angry. She burrowed under her Mama Estela’s arm.

“Mommy, it’s so loud,” she whimpered.

“I know, mija,” Estela said gently, stroking her four-year-old daughter’s hair. “But it can’t hurt us in here. Our house is strong and safe.”

The creaking of wood in the wind made Liv nervous. If the house was safe, why did it have to complain so much? Was it trying to scare her?

“It’s okay, Livi-sweetie,” Taylor soothed. “We’re all gonna sit this one out together.”

The family trio were sharing the big queen-size bed, Liv tucked up snuggly between her two mothers. There had been no talk of attempting to settle Liv in her own room; she was distressed, and that meant she could take security in the maternal bed.

As the howling wind became a frightening roar, Liv whined softly. At the foot of the bed, the little dog, Fenix, was sleeping soundly. Fenix didn’t have the best of hearing, which on this occasion struck Liv as quite lucky. The cat, Madam Mierdita, seemed more grumpy at the disturbance than frightened, growling and changing colours with every scary rumble.

“Hey, Liv,” Taylor said cheerily, hoping her easy tone would lessen the tension, “Knock, knock!”

Liv peered over the covers. Was now really the time? She’d humour her silly Mama Taylor. “Who’s there?”

“Europe.”

“Europe, who?” Liv asked, then her eyes went wide and she gave a shout of laughter. “Ha! You’re a poo, Mama Taylor!”

“No, you’re a poo!” Taylor chuckled. Saved, once again, by some good old fashioned toilet humour.

Estela rolled her eyes and shook her head exaggeratedly. “Oh, cariňa, you blow me away with your comedic wit.”

“Yeah!” Liv affirmed enthusiastically, apparently still oblivious to the art of sarcasm. “It was super funny!” She flinched at another crash of lightning, but didn’t hide under the covers.

“Well, my fan club, here comes another one!” Taylor smirked at Estela’s dramatic groaning. If it eased Liv’s fear, they could and would do this for hours. “Why did the toilet paper roll down the hill?”

“I dunno, Mommy. W-why?” Liv asked, her voice wavering as a rumble of thunder seemed to shake the very earth. But if the world was ending, it would surely wait to hear the rest of Mama Taylor’s joke first.

“To get to the bottom!”

On queue, Liv squealed with laughter. “You said ‘bottom’!”

“You know, Taylor, I’m sensing a theme here.”

“Hey-- toilet jokes aren’t my favourite, but they’re a solid number two!”

“Dios mío! Why do I feel like I’m in for a long night?” Estela reached to tickle Taylor’s belly, which served to push Liv ever deeper into her giggle fit. She could never adequately express just how grateful she was that their daughter had that gorgeous dork to see her through the scary times. Don’t you ever change, mi amor.

The storm raged on. Cocooned together in their humble sanctuary, the small family saw it out-- or at least, Taylor and Estela did. Liv nodded off amid the thunder and the lightning, the wind and the rain… safe in her mothers’ arms.

_______________________________

La Huerta, 2033

“Livi-- be careful!”

“I am careful!” Liv hollered down from a towering palm tree. She had everything under contro--

There was a thud, and the squeak of breath being forced from Liv’s lungs as she hit the ground hard.

“Ow.”

Taylor rushed over, but her view was quickly blocked by young Isla, who had gotten there first.

“Where are you hurt?”

“I’m not hurt, Isla. See?”

“Did you hit your head?”

“No.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three.”

“Can you move all your arms and legs?”

“Yes!”

“On a scale of one to ten--”

Taylor cut in, feeling simultaneously relieved and incredibly fond of her friends’ little nurse in training. “Thanks, Isla, sweetheart. I think we’re good from here. Right?”

Liv scowled and jumped to her feet as if nothing had happened. “I’m fine, Mom.”

“Oh, Livita, foiled again by your old friend, gravity?” Estela laughed from her comfortable spot on the beach. She’d seen Liv through enough bumps and scrapes to know when there was nothing to worry about.

Taylor snorted, and ruffled Liv’s short hair. “Gravity’s a bitch. Try and respect her in the future, okay?”

Gravity wasn’t just a bitch. Gravity was Liv’s nemesis. A literal pain in her ass. Someday, Liv had decided, she was going to get a pilot licence like her Uncle Jake. That would teach bloody gravity.

A yell distracted Liv from her plotting.

“Hey, Livia! Livia!” Reggie hollered as he pelted up the beach. “The big tortoise came back! Diego said we can feed him! Quick!”

That got her attention. The past two years, the mighty Shore Guardian had lumbered into their midst during the reunion, and it had been an incredible thrill. In an instant, she was off and running.

“Liv, when I say to be careful…,” Taylor started.

“I know!” she called over her shoulder, “ Actually be careful. But you know I’m not scared of some old Shore Guardian, right?”

The tortoise was colossal. Built like a tank; the peak of his pyramid-like shell reached the height of a man. It had come as an immense relief to everyone when the creature started appearing on La Huerta’s shores, that he was of a docile and placid disposition.

“Helloooo there, Shelly!” Liv called, clambering up and over the rocks, a bunch of glowing flowers in her hand. “I brought you a snack.”

“See,” Diego said from his perch, overlooking the beast, “I told you he’d come back. He’s pretty smart. He must know that the reunion happens every year, and that the reunion means kids bearing flowers. I think you’ve started something, though-- the Vaanti kids are all over this guy when he hangs near Elyys’tel.”

“He’s less scary than the yeti-bear. I like the yeti-bear, but Mom and Mom say I’m still too young to give her a pat. Do you think I should make friends with the Sea Guardian next?”

The Sea Guardian was rarely observed. It was something like a plesiosaur with scales all the colours of the rainbow, and even after more than a decade since Cetus’ demise, it seemed as though the monster was only gettng larger. Sighting the beast was something of a badge of honour for young Vaanti, with the bolder among them daring to touch its back-- some even managing to take loose scales when the beast was shedding. There had only been a few serious injuries over the years, but the practice was largely frowned upon-- especially by those old enough to remember Cetus’ wrath. If there was one thing everyone agreed upon, it was that they did not want another Cetus.

Diego chuckled nervously. “Better stick to old Shelly. He appreciates your friendship.”

“Yeah, Livia, you should look after the friendships you’ve got,” Reggie said, huffing and puffing as he came over the ledge. “It’s not like you’ve got many.”

“Hey!”

“Was I insensitive again?” he asked sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“A little,” Diego said. “Why don’t you come closer and feed Shelly with Liv?”

Reggie eyed the hulking beast. “No… no, I’m fine just watching. A good scientist never interferes with wildlife. You know Jane Goodall used to feed chimps bananas? But that was like… years and years ago. Now we know that is not the best way to science.”

“Whatever, Reggie,” Liv laughed, “but don’t cry to me when I’m Shelly’s best friend.”

Down on the sand, Liv could feel the enormous presence of the giant tortoise as he towered over her, sniffing.

“Good boy, Shelly. You wanna flower?”

Diego watched her, ready to swoop down and pull her to safety if the beast appeared bothered. “Good job, Livi. Nice and slow so you don’t freak him out. Like… like you’re Hiccup and he’s Toothless.”

Liv chuckled, and peered into Shelly’s mouth as it gaped open to take a flower. “I think he is toothless.”

“Yeah, but I bet his hard mouth could break all the bones in your hand!” Reggie piped up.

“Shelly would never,” Diego assured. “He knows better than to bite the hand that feeds him.”

The tortoise gave a rumbling grumble of pleasure as he swallowed a flower.

“How have you guys been recently?” Diego probed, keeping it light, but knowing that life had recently been a rough ride for the kids. “I heard Maia moved schools; that kind of sucks. She was pretty great.”

She was pretty pretty, Liv thought, though she kept that to herself. “I’ve been really sad and lonely. But it’s all better now-- we’re all back here! No mean dumbasses. I wish Maia didn’t have to leave though.”

“I decided I don’t like getting in fights,” Reggie said. “I am now officially a pacifist. But… I guess I’ve gotta make exceptions if people are gonna say stuff about my sisters. They’re only little. They can’t stand up for themselves.”

“Better stick to fighting with your words, Reggie,” Liv said with a little smirk. “I have never seen such a weak-ass punch in my life….”

“Hey, I did pretty good!”

“If I hadn’t jumped in, they’d still be mopping you off the floor now,” she laughed.

“Well, maybe I’m better at more important things, like actually using my brain! You should try it sometime.”

“Okay, okay,” Diego intervened. “Easy, kids! You don’t want to freak old Toothless out.”

Liv looked up at Shelly. He was calmly chewing on the last flower she’d offered him, not batting an eyelid at the raised voices.

“Tio Diego,” she murmured. “Can I tell you something? And Reggie-- you can know too.”

“Of course, you can, Liv.”

“Well… it’s kinda… embarrassing. But I know you won’t laugh. Not when it’s important. I like liked Maia. I thought everyone would laugh at me if they found out I had a crush on a girl. I know it’s not something to be ashamed of, but I was still… too scared.”

“You’re telling us now-- that takes a lot of guts,” Diego told her. “It is scary. You never know how people are going to react. Most people are pretty cool these days, but it only takes one mean person to make you feel sad and small.”

Liv climbed back up onto the rocks to sit by her uncle’s side. “Yeah. Some of the kids already teased me about my moms. I thought there would probably be at least one mean person.”

“That’s fair,” Reggie concluded. “I mean, you’re probably right. If they were jerks about Erin, probably they wouldn’t be any nicer to you. They already think you’re kinda weird.”

Diego put an arm around his niece, and she leaned close. After all these years, he could always tell when she needed a hug. “Coming out and showing yourself to the world should always be on your terms. If you didn’t feel ready, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. It means a lot that you feel comfortable enough to share with me.”

“Of course! You’re my tio. I can tell you anything. Even the things that are just silly and annoying… you listen anyway.” Liv sighed, and threw down her last flower to the great, lumbering tortoise, who scarfed it down eagerly. “I’m sad that Maia is gone. I thought eventually I’d be brave enough. I can be brave with stuff like protecting people who need help, but feelings are harder.”

“Feelings can be the absolute hardest. But we’re on your side, whenever you’re ready to share them. Me and Varyyn, and Reggie, and your moms. Your moms are so proud of you, you know? Being sensitive and caring can be tough, but those feelings are what make you strong. Your Mama Taylor told me you’ve been helping her get up every day when she’s been feeling really down. You make a difference-- a good one. You don’t have to be brave enough for everything all at once.”

“Thanks, Tio. You’re smart. No wonder you wrote like, two whole books. All teachers should be as nice as you.”

“Well, I do my best. And in the end, that’s all you really can do. Do you remember from Cinderella? ‘Have courage, and be kind.’ I’d say you’re both pretty good at that already.”

______________________________

La Huerta, 2031

Seven-year-old Liv reached out her hands to a stricken bird as it flailed in distress. The sound of it being slammed against the window of the house by a larger, more aggressive foe had made her all but jump out of her skin, but if something might be hurt, she had to get over her fright quickly and help.

“Hello birdie…,”she cooed. Her fingers gently stroked the feathers on its back. It stopped flapping, but its breathing was laboured, as if it was struggling for air. Blood had risen from its eyes and nose. “It’s okay… I’m a friend.”

Gently, Liv scooped the wounded animal into her hands and cradled it, crouching over the grass in front of her home.

“Tio Diego! Varyyn! I need help!”

Of course, her uncles came running. They were never far away when tasked with keeping an eye on her; by now they were too well aware of her propensity for wandering into mischief not to be.

“Livita, are you okay--”

“Tio, she’s hurt. I think she’s gonna die. This great big bird got her and hit her against the window.”

Diego was pretty sure Liv had heard the talk about not touching wild animals, especially if they were injured and likely to lash out, but the reminder could wait. One look at the bird told him it was not long for this world.

“She is dying,” Varyyn confirmed, sadly. He exchanged a look with Diego. “It’s very sad… but we must make sure she doesn’t suffer.”

Liv sniffed. It wasn’t fair. This little bird used to hang around their home, foraging in the garden Mama Taylor had grown. They liked hearing her singing and calling to the other birds.

Varyyn squeezed Liv’s shoulder. “We’ll give her a minute to see if she fades away on her own. Do you trust us to do what’s kind for your friend?”

“Yeah… but I don’t want to leave her. I think she’s less scared with me holding her.”

Diego put an arm around Liv. “That’s good. You’re making her feel safe. Everyone deserves that. Just keep talking to her, okay? Hopefully, she’ll go peacefully.”

“It’s okay, birdie,” Liv whispered. “You’re not alone now. You can go to sleep.”

The bird gave a few more rattling breaths, then was still.

“Tio Diego… I think she’s died.”

“Yes, she’s gone, mija. You did amazing.”

Liv wept, held by her uncles.

“Death is always hard,” Varyyn said gently, “even when it’s kind. You always feel the hole where there was once a life.”

“S-she shouldn’t have died! She wasn’t hurting anyone… o-or doing anything wrong… she was just in that other bird’s way.”

“I know. It sad, and it’s not fair at all. But you made her last moments so much better; that counts for a lot. Everyone dies sometime… all you can hope for is that you go feeling loved, and you made that happen. It’s like… the circle of life. Nature can be really cruel, but that doesn’t take away the good bits. This little bird probably helped lots of plants spread their seeds.”

“Yes. Even if your friend’s life was short; it had great value.”

Liv raised her head, eyes wide. “Her body becomes the grass, right? Like Mufasa said? She’s got to at least get to be part of the circle of life if she can’t live anymore.”

“Yeah… yeah, that’s pretty much how it works. If we leave her body somewhere nice where it won’t be bothered, she can feed the earth.”

“Okay. I wanna do that, then.”

A sombre procession carried the little broken body to the edge of the meadow. Liv laid the bird beneath a bush and draped her body with a fallen leaf. Then, she sat and looked over the resting place of her friend, tears filling her eyes. Varyyn was right; already there was a big empty hole. An echoey feeling right in her heart. Liv would miss hearing the bird’s chirruping as she played around the garden with her Mama Taylor. Hopefully, she’d remember that, not just this sad, sad feeling… of knowing she couldn’t protect an innocent, of seeing a life fade to nothing. Mama Estela told her that was important. That nothing should ever take away what was beautiful about something or someone once they’re gone.

She got to her feet, brushed off the dirt from her hands, then slipped one into Diego’s.

Bye, bye.

__________________________

La Huerta, 2033

“Penny for yours?”

Estela sat down beneath an old familiar banana tree, settling beside Taylor, who appeared to be a million miles away.

“Oh… I was off in my own world, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, it looks that way. But you looked happy.”

“I am. Just being here has been a breath of fresh air. I feel like I’m me again, and it’s been a long time coming.”

Estela gave a contented hum and rested her head on her wife’s shoulder. “I’ve missed happy Taylor.”

“Well, thanks for sticking by and waiting out for her. Happy Taylor appreciates it.” Taylor chuckled at the sound of Estela’s quiet laughter. It was infectious. Hell, just Estela’s smile was like the embodiment of sunshine, it made coming out the other side of her dark cloud all the more glorious. “I think we’ve got our Livi back. Or I think we’re on the right track.”

“I know we are. It’s been a slow decline… I don’t think I even realised how miserable she’d gotten until I saw her snap back to how she should be.” Estela shrank in on herself. What excuse did she have? She had one job; to keep that kid happy. She didn’t have a war to contend with, or the struggle to get by between pay-checks, and she still couldn’t manage it. “I should have done better. I’ve been trying… I’ve been trying so hard… but somehow I couldn’t make everything better for her. Or you.”

“Don’t you even think about it! No.” Taylor pressed a fierce kiss to Estela’s temple. “We hit a few bumps in the road, that’s all. I wasn’t counting on an intense case of the baby blues… or what might actually have been full-on post-partum depression. The timing was unfortunate; really, it sucked. But you carried us through. When Liv got suspended and I couldn’t fucking stop crying because I just couldn’t handle it, you did handle it. You’re pretty great. Ask Raj; he gave me a magic pep talk earlier, I’m sure I could rope him into a repeat performance.”

“Thank you. You’re good at putting things in perspective, I’ll give you that. I know I set my bar too high. Just because Liv has her struggles, doesn’t mean I’ve failed… it means she’s a human being. And that’s probably what we were aiming for….”

Taylor giggled. “Godammit, my otherworldly influence has been foiled!”

“Actually, while we’ve got a chance to talk… I was speaking with Aleister earlier.”

“Yeah, I thought I saw you two hanging out.”

“Well, it seems like we’ve inspired him and Grace. Reggie’s not going back to that school next year either. It sounds like Livi’s gonna have a homeschooling buddy here on La Huerta!”

“Oh, wow! Ohmygod, that’s perfect! It’ll be just like old times; almost half the gang back home again. And… and the girls? Are they waiting a year, or are they going to teach them as well?”

“You’ll have to ask them, but it sounds like they’re going to get started with Erin and Immy. It’s going to be so good for Liv.”

“Yeah. Really that’s… that’s wonderful. God, I’m so happy right now!”

Estela found herself laughing. Her dork was back. She took Taylor’s hand. “And then, moving forward, Aleister says they’re considering a permanent move to San Trobida-- obviously under the assumption that we’ll be heading in that direction ourselves.”

“Oh my… holy crap!” Taylor flung her arms around Estela and hugged her tight. Something in her knew right away… yes, that’s right. That’s where we’re all meant to be. That gut feeling overshadowed any qualms or fears. “Tio Nicolas is really not gonna know what’s hit him, hey?”

“No; and I think it will be a dream come true.” Nestled in Taylor’s embrace, the scent of her mingling with the La Huerta sea air… it was, to Estela, the very essence of happiness. The excited yells of children at play had her look up over her lover’s arms; there was her Livita, piggybacking little Erin through the shallows while the terror, Immy, sent up wild splashes of water at their faces. It was time to try something new. For them.

“Aw, ‘Stel, just look at them!” Taylor snuggled in, a giddy grin on her face. She needed a change, and she had a feeling that for her, for Estela, for Liv… it would be a step towards their best lives. The year to come, and even beyond that, was to be a thrill ride of the most exhilarating kind, and they’d take it on hand in hand. She exhaled her fears and sadness, and let the wind carry them away. “I really love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too, Taylor. Forever.”

_____________________

Midnight over the Celestial. Or rather, two minutes to midnight. The countdown to Liv’s tenth birthday was on, and the kids-- save for the two little ones who’d long been in bed-- were just about hanging onto the non-grumpy side of overtired.

Ten years. How could that even be? Taylor could see the years in her face and Estela’s, but it still could have been yesterday that they were interrupting the festivities with the announcement that… ‘uh, I think baby might be coming’. What had followed was a period of some of the most intense hours either of them had lived through, a culmination of two lives’ dreams and emotions. And at the end of it, Taylor had found herself holding in her hands the second love of her life. Her sunshine. As children do, Liv grew. She’d tested her mothers, putting pressure on their weak points and making them stronger. She’d brought them closer, something Taylor wouldn’t have believed possible… but sharing their daughter’s journey was like watching a miracle unfold; to be touched and changed was inevitable.

Michelle joined Taylor, a knowing look on face as they watched Liv’s impatient jiggling.

“Crazy night ten years ago… my one and only midwife job.”

Taylor chuckled. “Crazy, crazy night. The best night of my life. I don’t think I’m ever going to stop thanking you for getting us through.”

“Oh, you’re very welcome. Ten years on, it’s stuck with me. It’s amazing to see the young woman she’s growing into. I’m not going to lie, I’m proud of my small part in putting her in the world.”

That change was coming so fast. The transition from that rosy-faced bundle of cuddles into a bright, opinionated adolescent was going to be underway in no time at all. Even now, looking at that giggling ten-year-old, it was hard to imagine.

I’m going to embrace every moment. Every one. You, me, your Mama Estela, we’re on this adventure together. And I can’t wait to see where it takes us next.

Estela put her arms around Taylor from behind, smiling into her wife’s shoulder.

“Is it my birthday yet?” Liv asked, bounding over to them.

“One minute, mija.” She tugged Liv into the hug and covered her forehead in kisses. “Come here!”

The cake was unveiled, and the small girls, Isla, Erin and Immy, erupted into ‘ooh’s, while Liv did a dance in her mothers’ arms. Her family around her sang, all together, celebrating her milestone, and she knew belonging. She looked up to her mothers and grinned, face aglow with candlelight.

The future was bright.

#endless summer #estela x taylor #playchoices

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moveslikebucky · 4 years

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens) Additional Tags: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Crowley Has Anxiety (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Established Relationship Summary:

Crowley overthinks things, Aziraphale is there to ground him back to reality.

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Hello friends! Expect to see more fic posts from me I’m about to queue up a bunch of them! Life has been a bit uhhhh life-ish and I haven’t been crossposting to Tumblr and Twitter like I would like to, so I'm gonna queue up some fic posts!

This fic is for my dear friend @cassieoh, who drew some frankly stunning art of Crowley and Aziraphale having a bit of a romp in the plant room. Look for the art coming soon in the Bottoms Up! Zine, but for now, have some words! This one is a short one, but it is NSFW so mind the tags.

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Crowley grimaces. His coffee is bitter, not enough sugar. Made it wrong, wasn’t paying attention. Too many thoughts swimming around in his head for that. He’s not all here, not present in the moment. Not like he should be.

Things have been good lately, simple and easy. Maybe a little too easy. Crowley is always wary of danger, always circling. His serpentine nature has him peeking out from the grass, always on the watch for the hawks above.

His shoulders tense, his pulse quickens. He gulps down some more of the bitter swill, letting it burn down his throat, stick to his tongue. It brewed too long as well, going stale and stagnant as he stared at the French press, dissociating and unfocused..

His fingers start to shake, the cup in his hand does, too. His weight shifts from one foot to the other. His robe suddenly feels sweaty and scratchy and entirely too uncomfortable.

Below him, on the street, water traffic drifts by on the Thames, the streets bustle with life and activity. It shouldn’t be here, none of this should be here. It could all be gone in an instant. Colors shift and deepen as his eyes are swallowed by yellow. Any minute now, everything will be gone, they’ll come back for their war and everything—

Soft fingers alight on the back of his neck, gently gathering and brushing his long hair to one side. Soft lips press ‘I love you’ onto his shoulder between breaths. Two strong and angelic arms wrap around him, grounding him back down to this building, to this flat, to this room.

Crowley breathes.

“Shhh, darling,” Aziraphale coos in his ear, “I’ve got you, love.”

“Angel,” he sighs in relief, feels his pulse slow. His breath evens out, matching Aziraphale’s. Aziraphale does this on purpose, sets the pace and leads by example. Crowley would follow him everywhere, he follows him in this too.

“What do you need, Crowley,” Aziraphale whispers as his hands ghost the planes of Crowley’s stomach, settle on his hip bones, strong and sure. “What can I do to help?”

“Just need you, angel.” Crowley sets his coffee aside and slides his hands down Aziraphale’s arms, twining their fingers together. They stay like this for a few moments, Aziraphale tracing his thumbs along Crowley’s hands, whispering words of affection into his ear. Calming him back into himself, back to their world and this reality.

Aziraphale kisses along the nape of his neck, up into his hairline, pushes the robe a little further down Crowley’s shoulder. He shivers when the cool air touches his skin, lets go of himself, lets Aziraphale take control.

“I won’t be going into the bookshop today, I think,” Aziraphale says as he pushes the robe the rest of the way off Crowley’s shoulders. “I think there are much more pressing matters to attend to here.”

He lets go of Aziraphale’s hands, lets the robe pool on the ground at his feet. Revels in the soft touch of his lover’s hands roaming over his body. Dancing along his ribcage, tweaking at his nipples; a firm yet gentle touch roaming his arms. Crowley turns his head, capturing Aziraphale’s lips with his own, moaning at the feel of this blessed angel worshipping his body like this.

Aziraphale cups his cheek with one hand, deepening the kiss. It’s a weird angle but Crowley doesn’t care, content to take communion from his angel’s lips. Affection freely given, reminding him that this is their home, that this is their life. They get to have this, together, for as long as they live.

“Shall I, darling?” Aziraphale asks, an already slick finger teasing along the cleft of Crowley’s arse, “Would you like that?”

“Yes, please,” Crowley isn’t too proud to beg, not anymore. He leans against the glass, cool under his hands as Aziraphale gently opens him up. He takes his time, slow and languid. Crowley keens and grinds back onto his fingers, trying to speed him up. Aziraphale is relentless, settles his unoccupied hand on Crowley’s hip and holds him steady as he curls his fingers. As Crowley cries out against the glass, fogging it with his breath.

Below them, London bustles. People go about their daily lives, paying no mind to the two of them. They’re too high up to be seen, in any case. Aziraphale leans over, trailing kisses down Crowley’s spine, covering his hand where it rests on the glass. Aziraphale’s fingers fit perfectly between his own, small pinpricks of sunlight lighting through the small gaps in between.

“Are you ready for me, dearheart?” Aziraphale asks, answered with repeated yes’s falling from Crowley’s lips, crashing down to the concrete. Crowley leans against the window, taking in the sky, the buildings, even the thrice-damned river. It’s all here, this world, their world, their home — and they get to keep living in it.

There’s a rustle of fabric behind him, the clang of suspenders hitting the floor. Aziraphale’s hands ghost over the curve of his ass once again, coming to rest between his legs, gripping him tightly. “Do hold on tight, darling.”

In one swift motion, Aziraphale has Crowley up in the air, legs spread wide and grip solid on his thighs. Crowley yelps as he throws an arm around Aziraphale’s neck, hanging on for dear life.

“Angel, what the fuck are you—!”

His questions are silenced when Aziraphale lowers him down slowly, impaling him on his cock. Crowley hisses with pleasure as he takes Aziraphale in all the way to the hilt. Crowley grips Aziraphale’s hair as he moans, adrift on the sensation of being filled so completely.

“How’s that, darling?” Aziraphale asks, nuzzling his face against Crowley’s chest. Bastard shouldn’t be able to be adorable right now, Crowley thinks. Not when he has him in this state, using his angelic strength like this.

“Yes - Ah!- amazing, fuck ,” Crowley gasps out as Aziraphale starts to move. His feet scrabble for some purchase, finding their landing on the edges of a couple of the stone planter pots.

“You’ll have to do a bit of the work, Crowley,” Aziraphale says, breath hot against Crowley’s skin, “My hands are a bit occupied.”

Crowley nods, taking himself in hand, leveraging himself against the plant pots. He matches tempo with Aziraphale; slow strokes along his length timed with Aziraphale’s careful thrusts. The push and the pull of it making his toes curl into the soil, arches pressing into the stone.

It feels like flying, light weightlessness. Being suspended here, depending on Aziraphale to hold him up, to keep him safe. There’s a distinct pleasure in it that’s different for the uncertainty. For the knowledge that one wrong move and he’ll be splayed out on the cement.

He closes his eyes, biting his lip as Aziraphale hits just the right spot. He moans loud enough that the plants start to shudder and shake; though out of fear or what, who’s to say? The combination is enough to undo him, and soon enough he’s spilling over his own hand, strings of it trailing down to the floor, landing on the robe.

It’s not long before Aziraphale’s movements become erratic, before his breathing stutters. Crowley braces his legs tighter against the planters, grinds down onto Aziraphale’s cock with meaning, grips his hair tighter. “Let go, angel, I’ve got you.”

Two more thrusts and Aziraphale is spilling into him, holding him steady despite the way his arms shake. Crowley’s feet are cramping, his arm is sore, and he doesn’t care. They’re here, after the end of the world, in this flat in Mayfair with each other.

Aziraphale sets him down slowly, helping him find his feet again. A wave of the angel’s hand and the mess is gone, an afterthought at best. Crowley is pliant in the afterglow, always is. Being seen to by Aziraphale, loved wholeheartedly by Aziraphale, calms his usually racing existence. Aziraphale maneuvers him carefully, helping him back into his robe. He kisses Crowley’s forehead, a long and soft press of lips. Crowley leans into it, like a sunflower chasing the sunlight he chases the warmth and comfort of his Angel.

“How are we feeling now, darling?”

“Much better,” Crowley says as Aziraphale kisses him again, gentle but insistent. They both have traumas of their own to work through; thoughts and anxieties that keep them awake, keep them looking for danger around the nearest corners. It will take time, but together, they’re healing. Aziraphale kisses Crowley on the nose, earning him a grimace and a stuck out tongue, before turning to his own clothes.

“Nope, not today, angel, you said you weren’t opening the shop.” Crowley steps closer, taking Aziraphale’s hands in his and kissing him deeply, peppering kisses across his face when they break. “More pressing matters, I think it was?” Crowley asks as he pulls Aziraphale in close, settling the angel’s arms around his waist.

“I believe I did say something like that.” Aziraphale noses under Crowley’s chin, trails kisses down the line of it, renewing his arousal mere moments after the wave had crested.

“Hmm, I have silk sheets and some bad ideas.”

“That does sound like something that requires my attention.” Aziraphale says, smiling against Crowley’s skin, “Surely it’s part of my duty to prevent that.”

“Mmhmm, definitely, might throw in a wile or two, just to keep it interesting.” Crowley takes his hand, leading him out of the plant room and towards the bedroom. The bookshop can have Aziraphale tomorrow, today is a day for them, and they still have so much time to make up for.

#link #my fic #good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #nsft #mind the tags

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gender-chaotic · 4 years

Text

Hey all im gonna open up drawing requests

Feel free to send in requests for any universe movie, musical, or cartoon. All love them all and all 3 beej's

Im open to many ships not just my ot3 goldenbeetle (just no b**tleb*bes or sky/lydia romantically please, friendship is fine), im also open to oc/beej and im down to draw your beetlejuice oc's tbh i encourage it just please provide a reference.

I don't really care what character it is either.

Just a fair warning i am only able to do traditional art at the moment but I'll likely color them all because im testing out new art supplies, and I'll try and finish the requests asap. I really wanna make more beetlejuice stuff and draw more so it'll be fun/good warm ups.

For now i am not taking 18+ requests but keep an eye out because I may be in the near future don't be shy and feel free to stop in my inbox and throw a request in im working for a couple more days but I can pump a bunch out when im off work.

--Below is just explaining life stuff and why its been hard making stuff--

I'd really like to draw more stuff for Beetlejuice and just make more content for beetlejuice in general but drawing is honestly easier for me than writing although i still have long drafts for that golden beetle and lydia and beej friendship headcanon posts as well as the one with my au's. I don't mind writing more headcanon posts but i wanna take some time before i do alot more writing

I was hoping id have my laptop running soon so alot of this could be easier, im almost always on mobile, so it makes it harder so do alot of things online including mame content, work on top of that (I've been an essential worker throught the virus),i tend to pick up shifts and stay late at my job, and i do other things when im off work that occupy a bunch of my time where i don't get much time to myself, even to draw.

So throw burn out as well as executive dysfunction in and there's a recipe for lots of unfinished ideas and wanting to make content but being too tired to do it. Beyond work life's been kicking my ass for reasons id like to not get into, and online discourse doesn't help which i have admittedly have gotten too wrapped up in and put way too much energy i didn't mean to use for it, loosing alot of spoons that way. All of this above is why i tend to go MIA for a while on discord and tumblr including when i like a bunch of posts and queue them a while later, i get really overwhelmed. So i wanna mainly focus on fun stuff for the fandom than discourse and the like.

Its been alot easier for me to dump beetlejuice stuff especially headcanons and au's on discord with friends then try to organize it on tumblr but im putting an effort to actually change that and put more stuff here, again my inbox is open dont be shy i may not to to you right away but i will try my best to finish these for y'all

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #beetlegeuse #goldenbeetle #beetlejuice musical #sorry for the ramble #domt excpect any done today tho #i gotta work tonight and i need to go to bed already

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moonlightsdreaming · 6 years

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One of the things that helped me turn the queue back down on this blog (to a reasonable ~40/day + whatever extras I happen to throw in there) is that I dusted off my sideblog for all the stuff that doesn’t really fit here and dropped a crapload of stuff into it. Right now, it’s mostly Fire Emblem (a lot of Tellius and Ylisse, but I branch out occasionally), Venom, Buzzfeed Unsolveed, DC (well, let’s be honest, mostly Nightwing) and Yuri!!! on Ice, with some occasional Star Wars: Rogue One thrown in. It’s set to 10 a day and I just let the queue run, so it’s not super heavy, but it definitely helps me when I have that urge to reblog a bunch of stuff that’s not a good idea here. Like, I LOVE BUZZFEED UNSOLVED SO MUCH (this week’s episode was hilarious but also I do not blame Ryan one bit, that is the reasonable reaction, dude) but it’s best over there. And I enjoyed Venom, it was a lot of fun in pretty much exactly the way tumblr advertised it--that if you view it as a romcom instead of a routine superhero movie it’s a thousand times better and delightful. I had a brief moment of HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME SHIP TOM HARDY AND THE SENTIENT PILE OF GOO but, nah, it’s SUPER FUN and I had a great time looking at all the art and thinking about reading fic. I’M NOT GONNA, but I thought about it. :D

#sorry i'm not sorry about my personal posts

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ubercharge · 6 years

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Tips for beating the new game mode on Expert difficulty?

let’s see

play it a whole bunch in that difficulty. spawns are different on each difficulty and between story/all heroes mode, and the waves are the same for each section but they come at different times. so just be prepared. and pray to rng for good spawns

it’s expert so you don’t have to be god tier at whichever hero you pick, but you should still be good at them. pick one you’re good at. they all have different roles. mccree and genji are harder than reaper and moira.

whichever hero you pick, remember to do their job. in the higher difficulties moira needs to be throwing out heal orbs and healing often, reaper should be getting pretty close to most enemies to do dmg to them, mccree should be landing mostly headshots (if your accuracy dips below 50% that’s when i’d consider switching heroes) and flashing enforcers/assassins, genji should be killing snipers and also not dying. please stop dying as genji

if you’re playing mccree don’t be fucking stupid, reaper has wraith, moira has fade/heal orb, genji has deflect/dash. you have a shitty roll. but you also have better range than reaper. you don’t need to be at the very front. shoot from behind your reaper/genji.

reaper and genji can do the most tanking due to their respective kits and reaper’s 250hp. reaper should be leading the way in engagements.

moira should be focused on healing. use that heal orb a LOT; your bio spray stores WILL get low. heal orb is good for keeping everyone alive while you do some dmg to replenish bio spray. and don’t fucking throw it at the ground unless you’re in an enclosed space, it’ll just bounce up and away. moira does insane healing and dmg for a healer who doesn’t have to fucking aim (i’m not salty about ana), so don’t underestimate the impact you can have. don’t be afraid to pop coalescence when you’re/your team’s low and you have no heals/heal orb. you’re the only support after all.

remember to actually use your abilities. it’s ok to save ults for specific situations (you can figure out when yourself) bc some of them are more useful in specific waves than the others. but mccree’s flash is a must against assassins, genji’s deflect helps a lot against heavy, etc.

DO DAMAGE. SHOOT THINGS GOOD. they’re ai, it’s a lot easier to track them (yes, i’m telling you to track them instead of flicking because you need 0 flick ability to kill pve ai) than regular players. aim for the neck/head as reaper at close range or if above, bodyshots at midrange. headshots as genji and mccree. the general half of the screen the enemy is standing, as moira. idk about the others bc i mostly played mccree, but you should have your ult every 45s or so as mccree and probably not too far from that as the others. i don’t mean you should use your ult that often, that basically means that if there are enemies on screen, you should be consistently taking them out. and yeah i’ll be real you CAN finish expert pve with 3 people but there’s less margin for error than in hard/normal. but if you like a challenge, 3-player expert pve is the real hard mode

you can skip the entire art gallery if you can get everyone through the doors into the restaurant courtyard. if you go fast enough, the doors close and the assassin can’t follow. there’s some other minor skips but this is easily the most useful one.

punch the assassin to get her off of a teammate, but your mccree should be flashing anyway

deflect kills for the sniper is safest way to kill her, mccree might be able to land some long-midrange dinks but don’t depend on him, his gun has shit falloff. just make sure your other teammates aren’t peeking and pulling her aggro when you’re deflecting and you’re good

heavy is probably the hardest challenge overall, you can kite around buildings and there are different ways to handle him that i’m not gonna get into but find what works for you. circling around a building is how my team and i did it last night (again, safest route) but you don’t have to do it that way. just remember he has a reload (take the time to put in some dmg) but he will tear through you when he’s not reloading. moira should be focusing on healing, genji should be landing deflect dmg when it’s off cd

if you’re playing with a group, make sure everyone is on comfortable roles. pve is fun with friends until you’re repeating the mission for the 20th time. and that’s why i stopped group queueing mvm!

get on the fucking drop ship

#overwatch 89 #mine #ugin #ask answer

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dreadnought-despair · 7 years

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housekeeping & (another) poll

im on spring break so i’m probably gonna take a small break from writing and try and catch up on art i owe ppl. so next round of posts may be later than usual but i may throw in a filler post since it’s nighttime ic? also gonna try and queue up some asks for this blog since i’ve got a bit of a backlog here

ive been itching to try and code a custom theme too so the blog might have a new look soon 👀

halfway through the FTE’s means we’re not too far away from...... MURDER so i wanna get y’all’s opinions on another thing here :0 i’ve been trying to think through how to post the trials since the number of multiple choices goes through the roof in nonstop debates, and i also wanna poke around with some game creation software its been too long! so here’s the options

keep it all on tumblr - the format you and i are both used to. i dont have to tinker with new software or figure out how to host the games, but this means no minigames and a potentially weird update schedule

flash minigames, rest on tumblr - i have a couple ideas for some really simple minigames along the lines of logic dive and hangman’s gambit! i’d host these either on pages on the tumblr blog or on itch.io, and link to them as needed in the course of the story

entire trial offsite - i know this sounds drastic but tumblr really isn’t suited to the amount of branching dialogue a fully playable trial would need! theres a really cool piece of software called twine, and it looks way faster to put the trial together with this than manually posting and linking a bunch of short tumblr posts. should work on desktop and mobile too! this is conjecture at this point but im curious how many people would be interested/okay with it

[VOTE HERE] and feel free to add alternative suggestions

regardless of the format of the trial there will be LOTS of art, potentially voiceacting, and maybe even new music so im excited!! woohoo

thank y’all for ur patience & kind words, hope u have a good day. heres a ping for reading

#dreadnoughtannouncements #ooc #long post

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thehermitmj · 4 years

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I keep talking about how I’m gonna do The Art for a living and not posting art or prints or whatever but -- God Damn It -- I want to think this through a little more. I want to set goals that aren’t so big I’ll definitely fail and get discouraged and quit at the gates, or whatever.

So. I know, kind of, what I want to do.

Comics, illustrations, prints. Largely passive income would be great, as I want to work on big projects (comics are huge when you haven’t made one in a while, guys, especially if you’re doing all the writing). Eventually, I want to move into animation. I think I’ll do illustrations first while I’m scripting, as those are smaller projects in comparison to comics and animation.

Prints through RedBubble sound like a good idea, but I wanna look into other shops that are similar. There was one that got permission from a bunch of IP for artists to recreate, print and profit off of the IP so long as certain rules were followed. I think I might look into that again.

Maybe I’ll make YT videos? Videos and streaming are kind of on the fence for me because I’m not... able to split focus enough? Ten dollar commission sketches sound like a good idea if I can fucking focus long enough to finish them. Maybe start small and simple...

I know my ass needs an editor and a manager now. I know I do. I want to pay them to keep my ass on track, because I KNOW that’s going to be a full time job. Someone to help me keep track of all the shit I need to do (I’ll still try, but damn, I know my brain too well by now), and someone to help me keep stories from meandering into shit they shouldn’t meander into. When I write an action-romance fic there shouldn’t be a heavy emphasis on Real Life politics (maybe) unless it’s related to the action-romance story specifically.

Sigh...

Patreon... I think I wanna do that, too, but treat it more as I think the patrons of old might’ve done it? With some adjustments? Like... When people pay to be my patrons, I want them to have agency in what I do, because they’re paying to have my works completed. But I also want to be the one to have the final say. I want to still put up WIPs, pick a subject I really want to work on, so on and so forth. But I also want the people paying for certain tiers to have an amount of say that most others don’t in the process.

Maybe I’ll have three low cost tiers that fulfill the expected Patreon flare: shout outs, behind the scenes peeks, and a thanks for supporting. Then a Mid-tier with more direct say in things: voting on projects probably being the biggest draw here. The last, high-tier will have essentially the position of Actual Patron where we collaborate together for pieces they want to see. They say something like “I want sailormoon fanart of Usagi/Serena in her princess/queen dress with wings” and I throw some thumbs together, they pick the two or three they like, and then it goes down the line to the Mid-Tier patrons who decide which thumb they like best, which gets worked on as the final product and eventually reaches the low-tier patrons so they get to see what’s been worked on and what’s coming in the future.

.... I don’t know, I kind of need to workshop that a bit and figure out the limits of the system for myself and the tiers involved. Like. Make it clear I have the final say in projects, but high-tier patrons get the most immediate input from everyone else. Maybe mid-tier patrons can get a percentage off whatever prints come out, and low-tier patrons get all the Latest News a week or two before everyone else?

*chin scratch*

... I’ve also decided that I want a few simple milestones for each media outlet I submit art to. Like... 10 new followers in two months for Tumblr, Twitter and DA once I get this ball rolling. And once I have a shop open (probably will wait to have 1000 followers total before playing with that idea too much), I’ll try for $100 every month or two and see where that goes.

General consensus from working cartoonists and comic artists is if I can keep my job and still work on art, I should. If I can use the money I make from my art to improve my art, I should. And, in the end, if I can make money, pay my bills and do art full time, I should.

This is... relieving news, because now I have more concrete goals to keep in mind, too. Pay bills being one of them. If I can focus on the smallest bill first, that’ll give me and everyone potentially involved a real scope of where we are in certain goals.

... Okay, so, let’s try and make a list of all this nonsense:

Social Media Goals:

Regular posting; small illustrations within controllable increments (every week or two? Depending on complexity)

100 new followers across all platforms (Twitter, Tumblr, DA) in two months (4-8 new small illustrations at min in relation to posting; possibly more)

Possibly stream and offer $10 sketches on stream? Maybe done once a month to keep things manageable. Funds gained here to improve quality of streams (mic/sound quality, video quality, internet connection).

Gain 1,000 followers across all platforms; revamp and advertise Patreon with $1, $5 and $10 tiers immediately available for supporters. Ideally done within 6 months; expect it done within the year, at best.

Workflow Goals:

At least 4 high quality pieces done at the end of the month; medium doesn’t matter so long as they’re all uploaded and completed.

WIP uploads on instagram? Thumbs, pencils, inks before posting the final piece? (Maybe reserve most of them for Patreon, just to have something for them from the jump.) Break up different mediums in similar, large-step ways. Post at least once a week before pieces are finished.

Friggin... queue posts to accounts if it’s at all possible. Schedule queue a week in advance.

Financial Goals:

Keep the current job, MJ, it keeps you afloat.

Once earning enough to pay for smaller bills plus $300 ish? Find a manager and/or editor to pay them to work once a week for five hours a day to keep this ship afloat. (Having both would be ideal, let’s be real.)

Once rent, bills and pay for manager and/or editor are covered, invest in prints. If Patreon is set up by this point, ask what they want. (ASK, MJ.)

The end goal of this is to eventually start a small business with me and at least four others, depending on how we expand (EX: might need a proper video editor for speed paints, stream recording edits and possible comic promos? An editor for scripts, a manager for all these projects, an assistant for long term art stuff.)

Hire a god damn accountant or something, you don’t know wtf you’re DOING, MJ. LET SOMEONE ELSE DO THIS, YOU FOOL.

#mj shut up #long post #this is more for me than anyone #but like...#look if you like?#real long post tho

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