#But there’s the beginning mwahahaha

[ssreeder]

Hello Reeds! :D

See I’m debating… Cause I want to create some fanart for liab, but also my anonymity ;-;

Maybe I’ll do it once all of Into The Fire is finished. No pressure!

Just saying that once at the end of this book, I feel like I must also revoke my anon status. Like closing a chapter (hehe) in “life”, but also opening a new one for any other works you have in the future! :D

I would like to create something for you! Especially since your series had helped me through the years! I remember reading this when Risking It All was still being written! I believe it was chapter 20-something when I first left my comment? :p

You brought joy with your book! As well as sadness ;-; Why it got to be so sad sometimes? 😭 But it was fun suffering from your story :D

I hope you’re doing well and having fun doing everything you love doing! 💖

-Pain Anon

PAIN ANONNNNN *TACKLES*

I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to answer you I’ve been blah lately but HIII HELLO HEWOW!!

Not my lovely pain/red anon teasing me with fan art?! I will scream ahhh!! I totally respect anonymity but if you did wanna make art you can always submit it anonymously I have that feature enabled if people ever wanted to post anon art lol. No pressure obviously because if your style is super recognizable it won’t matter if you’re anon or not lol.

PAIN ANON YOURE SQUEEZING MY HEART WITH HAPPY FEELINGS!!! I appreciate you so much you have no idea what you’re fun anon messages mean to me, I hope you’re having a good time in your life because you DESERVE IT!!

also I’m super excited to bring the pain - only one chapter left before I start blowing shit up again & let me tell youuuuuuuu haha I have some pain planned ;);););) :D

[pikopiikko]

i am getting barraged CONSTANTLY on all sides by STUFF THAT SHORT CIRCUITS MY BRAIN THIS EPISODE

[elkkiel]

okay so i listened to the summoning and take me back to eden (it autoplayed so i figured i might as well listen it to it) and. wow. not what i expected at all! i'm a big fan of songs shifting genres and it looks like they do that for all of their songs so thats really cool!!

i would love to listen to any more reccomendations you have, since typically i enjoy music that's faster paced. i really really liked the summoning though, and the lyrics for take me back to eden. wow. like. WOW. i did research into their lore and it bangs so damn hard

thanks for the rec :)

(also, sorry about the a/b/o stuff with other fandoms :( i love talking about it for pwp reasons and socioeconomic theorizing reasons so my blog is a safe place for that stuff if you want :))

I am absolutely elated that you like what you've heard so far!!!! And also so so sorry for the rabbit hole you're going to fall down with these guys

I would honestly recommend the whole Take Me Back to Eden album as a new listener—I looped it for practically a month straight when I first found them haha. It's a great sampler of their range and by far the most refined, cohesive release of their main 3 LPs.  

Beyond just getting you to listen to a whole album in one sitting, here's some of their popular songs/singles:

(Btw, there's a TON of good live recordings for some of these as well; they sound just as good, if not better, on stage as they do in-studio)

Alkaline

This is the one with the sexy banner/mic stand stroking lol. It's a sensual, synth-y intro leading into a hell of a headbanger with chuggy guitars

The Summoning

Mentioning this for the live performances in particular. Vessel goes CRAZY with his live vocals, there's a huge drum solo in that atmospheric part, and a LOT of on-stage shenanigans to be had. It's the song that made them blow up HARD, and for a good reason.

Rain (ty @tonguetyd for the rec lol, here's a last-minute addition)

This is another great sample of Vessel's vocals, especially in the intro. It starts slower with the solo piano but gets really powerful in the second half. A personal and fan-favourite for sure!

Hypnosis

If you vibe with Alkaline, you'll vibe with Hypnosis. It's like ultra-concentrated, pathetic sopping wet paper towel levels of yearning with groovy, heavy breakdowns

The Offering

A setlist staple that'll make you want to dive headfirst into the nearest mosh pit. This is a good example of the music tying into the lore/story behind the band as well, if you're interested in that kind of lore analysis

Jaws

An oldie but a fan favourite! It might just be me but it kinda gives me Bring Me the Horizon vibes, so if you like them then you'll probably like Jaws as well

Vore

Yes, it's called Vore. Welcome to Sleep Token lol. It's one of their heaviest songs with lots of harsh vocals (Vessel really shows off his higher range here) and super groovy, dynamic instrumentals. Personal fave tbh, it's at the top of my Spotify repeats playlist

And finally, the lore 🥰🥰 I've only been here a short time and still have yet to discover a lot of their story, but here's an overview of the band history and lore, as well as an in-depth interview with Vessel from 2017. They like to add a lot of Easter eggs to their releases (they created a whole ass alphabet/cypher to go along with Take Me Back to Eden), and the fans go WILD with theories and analysis!

Anyways I'm gonna cut off the infodump there haha. Please let me know what you think and if you run across anything else (songs, lore, etc.) that you liked!!

(Also ty for the omega solidarity 😌 the sleep token fandom is so much fun and still exists in the same weirdo-freak realm as dtblr omegaverse-enthusiasts lol. There's just far less *actual* omegaverse here.

I've been spoiled by the sheer amount of a/b/o content and normalization in the dteam fandom that normal amounts of fandom a/b/o feel like total deprivation. If you ever feel like sharing I'm always down for theories and headcanons too btw. It's such a fun, complex trope and I love to see what others think)

[berriinice]

What was held up can no longer be stopped/intercepted, God is making a way for all those that have passed the necessary tests to proceed onto their new path 👑 All energetic blocks and low vibrational karmics are being dealt with by the spirit of death. No more chances 🧿✨🌝🌚 1010 NEW BEGINNINGS

[rae-writes]

OnlyFantoms?? pt.II

om dateables/sides x reader

wc : 2.k

warnings : nsfw, gn!reader with skirt wearing (raphael), lingerie wearing (diavolo), online sharing

synopsis : lets see what the new latest trending porn videos are

a/n: MWAHAHAHA IT'S FUCKING HERE

brothers ver.

The maroon fabric of your babydoll lingerie was rumpled, tearing not even a second later from how ironclad Diavolo’s grip was. One hand had the lace fisted, using it to yank you back on his cock, while the other was wrapped around your throat, veins highlighted and muscles flexing each time he effortlessly lifted your body and slammed it back down at the rough pace he was fucking you. Your legs were spread wide over his straining thighs, body just barely covered by the sheer material that adorned your sweaty body, hands white-knuckling his horns with your nails scratching along the golden ornaments . Each time skin met skin, it echoed in the room— adding to the sensual sight of the morning light reflecting off the golden floors, walls- the regal throne the two of you were seated in. His sounds were muffled from the way his head was buried in your neck, no doubt adding more marks to the already bruise-littered skin. Your own head was tilted back against his shoulder, his fingers squeezing visibly at your throat before two of them pushed past your parted mouth, making your high pitched moans turn choked. His rough pace got even more animalistic, feral growl escaping him as your body tensed, milking his cock as you came, pushing him past that edge too— and the video cuts.

Where royalty sits | 0:10 seconds | 112.k views | 109.k likes | 100.k comments 

TEN WHOLE SECONDS OF ABSOLUTE GOODNESS

Is this even legal to watch?? Cause if not, I’m happily packing my bags for jail

Typing this comment from my grave 

*eats phone*

Amazing day to be a Devildom citizen folks 

†

Hidden underneath the castle’s foyer stairs, the golden fractures of light shift as each of your bodies move. You were on your knees, thighs flexing, as you bounced up and down— riding Barbatos’ tail. The appendage forced itself deeper and deeper until the camera picked up on the arch of your back, the shimmer of your nails (painted in his colors) digging into his thighs, leaving behind wrinkles in the usually pristine black slacks. Gloved hands were tangled in your hair, gripping tighter the more his composure began to waver. The guided bobbing of your head went from leisure to almost desperate and then back again; after a particularly stressful day, he just couldn’t decide what he wanted. Only murmurs of praise left the royal steward, as opposed to your choked moans and whimpers and occasional gasps of his name when you came up for air before swallowing him down again. There was a brief moment in which he cupped the back of your head and shoved you all the way down- pausing- when footsteps ascended the stairs you were both underneath. Once it was quiet again, he pulled your head back with a caress of your hair and a soft apology, fucking you with his tail at a more rapid pace, insisting you needed to cum first. With you melting at his ministrations, he begins fucking your mouth, too, grunting almost inaudibly; the second your body wracked with your orgasm, he followed suit— and though only your backside view could be seen, the sounds of swallowing were crystal clear. With a low chuckle from Barbatos, and a breathy giggle from you, the screen goes black. 

Off duty | 0:30 seconds | 97.k views | 92.k likes | 88.k comments 

This is gonna be the next big fever dream, come lay your eyes on it while you can-

Mouth? Dropped. Eyes? Rolled. Drool? Leaking. Hotel? Corvo. 

B A R B A T O S ? !

This is the best day of my life

asdfghjkl

†

Scraping of wood against marble tile echoed faintly as the entirety of Mephisto’s desk moved inch by inch. The force he was pounding into you created small thudding noises, your clothes dulling the sound of skin slapping, followed by sharp grunts as he worked to keep the relentless pace. Lights of the newspaper club’s office highlighted your bodies, leaving nothing hidden as he bends you into an even deeper arch, face buried in the mahogany desk. Newspapers- published and uncompleted drafts- are crumpled underneath your hands; he couldn’t care less, though, not when you’re moaning and crying out his name like you are. It’s clear he tries to show some decorum, but the rare sight of his demon form screams how disheveled you’re making him— tails coiled around your waist, horns pressing into your shoulder, sharp nails digging jagged lines into the wood of his desk. An enchanted quill is frantically scribbling in the background, no doubt writing down what was happening into a page of the upcoming newspaper draft; depending on whether or not Mephisto remembers- or cares- he might just leave the article in. The thought actually has him whining, fucking into you a bit faster, because he’d love to see everyone’s reactions once they read the damn paper— knowing he had you right under everyone’s noses. A quick tug of your hair to pull you into a messy kiss that the camera can’t see and he’s spilling his cum into you- dragging you off the ledge with him- and pressing his body flush against yours. You stay trapped like that for a few seconds, quietly laughing and teasing him, before he huffs and pulls back as you both try to make yourself presentable again when the video ends. 

Extra, Extra | 3:25  minutes | 93.k views | 89.k likes | 84.k comments

Front page, baby. FRONT! PAGE!

Got his priorities down pat

What goes down in the news office doesn’t stay in the news office

Get that nOBLE DIck MC

Never thought I’d hear Mephisto whine— 

†

White linen curls around your arms, clenched between your fingers, pillowing your head, delicately shielding the parts you didn’t want too exposed— all while the light in Simeon’s room bathes you in a replicated golden hour. His head is buried deep between your thighs, messy hair brushing your skin at each movement. One of his hands is keeping your left thigh flat against the bed, squeezing at the fat of it, while the other is subtly shoved underneath his body as he fucks his fist. With the leg that isn’t pinned down, your calf is resting over his shoulder, keeping him impossibly close; the sounds coming from him are muffled, as he’s barely able to breathe properly, but they’re desperate and needy, echoed by the mindless ‘please’s and praise he’s babbling out. The sheets covering his own body from view only hide his hips down to his mid thigh, giving the perfect- defined- view of his arched back and the flexing muscles rippling underneath smooth skin as he thrusts into the pleasure. There are faint reddened lines trailing along his shoulders and barely visible hickies on his neck, showing that, clearly, this hadn’t been the beginning of the night. It can also be seen in the way his hips stutter with overstimulation, toes curling at the sensation, even if he can’t stop because he still craves the release. It’s timed with the pace he’s fucking you with his tongue, moans harmonizing with yours, getting louder and breathier and a little whinier before he’s practically crying out an ‘I’m cumming!’. Not even a second later, both of your thighs are snapping closed around his head, trembling, as you follow. The come down is soft and sweet, whispered words and gentle caresses, with a murmured suggestion for a bubble bath just as the video cuts. 

Worship hour | 2:30 minutes | 86.k views | 84.k likes | 78.k comments 

I feel the grace of the celestial realm 

PHEW 

GOD AND DAMN 

We’ve ascended guys— 

Where can I get an angel 

†

The scattered, organized, yet messy sight of school books, miscellaneous supplies, and the fact that you were in your uniform made it obvious this was one of RAD’s many closets. Raphael was sitting on top of an extra desk, legs spread rather wide as you sat on top of him; your skirt rode up around your hips, but his hands groped and squeezed your ass to shield it from view. He guided you at a quick, needy pace as you grinded against his clothed cock, sometimes jerking his hips up to meet the movements. The normally quiet and aloof Angel was panting and gasping, and if you listened closely, you could hear muffled whines every now and then when you moved at a certain angle. The sloppy sounds of wet kissing and tongues tangling seemed to echo in the small room, even despite his whisper of ‘have to be quiet’— in fact, he was more vocal than you, commanding you to go faster, asking you not to stop. Even the shadows passing under the door didn’t deter him from wanting you. The bell signaling class was about to begin made you pause without thinking, but he gave you no time to think: he grabbed you right up and twisted your bodies around until you were laying back on the desk, legs around his waist. With no room to barely breathe in between, he began fucking himself against you like an animal in heat, breathlessly apologizing and announcing he was gonna cum. With a few more rough thrusts, you can see his body shudder and melt over top of you— and the visible wet stain on the front of his pants as he gently helps you off the desk and fixes your clothes, suggesting a quick clean up spell so you can go to class, before the video ends.

[Can’t] resist temptation | 1:10 minutes | 88.k views | 82.k likes | 75.k comments 

PHEW PART FUCKING TWO

His veiny hands make me ajsaljdkd

Are all the exchange students always this hot??

I will take a shower of spears to see this in person 

Mc is my hero 

†

Whatever device was recording had to be enchanted, as the screen was divided perfectly to show the inside of the common room, where the seven brothers all lounged, and the hallway wall just outside, where Solomon had you hiked up against it. His head was buried in the crook of your neck, only a peek of his lips showing. The bottom half of your face that was in frame is covered by his hand, fingers digging into your jaw to keep you quiet. The only thing covering your body was his starry cloak; the fabric fell off your shoulder, showing off the many hickies and bite marks adorning your skin. Your body bounced upwards at every sharp thrust— he was unforgiving with his pace, frame flush against yours as he fucked you deep. The audio barely picked up on the ragged pants falling from his mouth, the debauched praises that he was damn near singing as he had his way with you, all while being ten feet away from the brothers. The muscles in his arm flexed as he held you up, fingers marking bruises into the skin he was gripping. You raked your hands through his sweat-soaked hair, tugging and pushing his head up until you had your mouth against his. A barely audible cry of his name reached the camera as your back arched, fingers pressing just as bruisingly into his back. He finally stuttered in his pace, mouth falling open; he came with his tongue tangled with yours, accidentally having let out a hiss when you moaned aloud. Lucifer, who had been glancing up occasionally, as if he thought he heard something, immediately stood just as all the others’ heads snapped up. With a desperate kiss, Solomon opened a portal and carried you right through, leaving the brothers to hastily round the corner and begin shouting, before the video cuts.

Claim staking | 4:45 minutes | 91.k views | 88.k likes | 84.k comments 

A good section of the comments is just hate from the brothers, I— 

That sly, sexy, smug little fucker

I wanna be between the two of them 

Sorcerer man hot 

You could physically feel the charge in the air through the phone when the brothers figured it out

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hiii i luv ur work^^ can i request a fic where carmy get sucked off so good it makes his brain short-circuit a little? like he came home all tired and pent up n reader just "blow" it all away. wanna see this man get taken care of🥺 he's alway got so much on his mind i just wanna see him fucked till his brain is empty

Short Circuit.

Carmy doesn’t know how to shut his brain off. Luckily, you do.

pairing - roommate!carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing.

word count - 1.8k

authors note - carmy’s a little bitch in this one!! mwahahaha!! to my love who requested - i’m sorry I ended up making him a bit pathetic here, but in my defence… he does give off the energy of a wet cat, so. this set in the roommates universe, but the fics have no particular order <3

if you enjoyed, please reblog!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which in turn creates more. <3

masterlist. inbox. series masterlist.

“Sit the fuck down.”

Carmy blinks at you like a deer caught in headlights, confused and struggling to process.

“W-what?”

“You heard me, Carmen. Sit the fuck down before I shove you there myself.”

You gesture at the couch only a few feet away, crossing your arms over your chest expectantly.

He exhales shakily before placing his mug of coffee on the kitchen counter, walking over to do as you ordered.

He’s never really been bossed around by you before. Sure, you scold him occasionally, warn him when he does something wrong, but never like this. He can’t tell if he likes it. He thinks that maybe he does.

He gets comfy on the couch, sitting back against the cushions and spreading his legs. His white t shirt stretches deliciously across his broad shoulders, tight and worn. His old flannel pyjama pants look so cosy, you itch to reach out and run your hand across them.

Carmy’s watching you curiously, waiting for your next move. He can’t predict what’s going to happen, which would usually make him nervous. But right now, he’s got electricity buzzing through his veins, crackling and charged.

You set your own mug down and saunter over in his direction, as if you have all the time in the world. You stop at the window and shut the blinds, smirking over your shoulder when he raises his eyebrows in a silent question.

“Don’t want to give the neighbours a show.”

Carmy’s breath hitches in his chest, panting with anticipation. You crack your knuckles and stretch your arms above your head, suppressing a laugh when you see his eyes glued to the skin you expose between your t shirt and pyjama pants.

You stand in front of where he’s sat, patient and waiting. You look so tall, looking down on him, so completely powerful. He’s suddenly very confused by his own feelings.

“I’m sick of you bitching and moaning,” you begin, dropping to your knees on the patterned rug. “So I’m gonna make you shut the fuck up.”

Carmy suddenly sits up straight, full attention captured.

“What?”

“God, do you ever listen, Carmen?”

He’s silenced by your rebuttal, so you continue.

“You’re stressed to the max, and you don’t know how to leave work at work. You bring it home, complain for hours, and then wonder why you can’t relax. You need to shut your brain off.”

Carmy swallows harshly, eyes never leaving yours.

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“You’re not. I’m gonna do it for you.”

With that, you rise up onto your knees so you’re face to face with your roommate.

“You okay with this?” you whisper, searching his features for any signs of trepidation.

“More than okay,” he breathes, leaning in to you. “Kiss me first? Please?”

You don’t think anyone would be able to resist him in this moment, when he looks and asks so pretty.

“Whatever you want, babe.”

You press your lips to his gently, testing the waters. Carmy instantly pulls you in with his arms around your back, deepening the kiss. You slip your tongue into his mouth and take control, nipping at his bottom lip when he gets too cocky.

“I’m in charge,” you tell him lowly. “If you wanna stop, say stop. But otherwise, I’m gonna keep going until you can’t remember your own name.”

Carmen’s eyes roll back at the promise, head hitting the sofa behind him as he groans. You settle back down between his legs, pulling his pyjama pants off and throwing them aside.

You trail open mouthed kisses up his thighs, starting at his knee and ending at his hip. Occasionally you bite down, soothing the sting with your tongue as you go. When he starts to fidget, you fully sink your teeth into his muscle, sharp and warning. He flinches, and you smirk.

“Patience, Carmen.”

“Don’t wanna be fuckin�� patient,” he grumbles under his breath, petulant as ever.

You look up at him firmly, and he gets the message.

Running your fingers up and down his thigh, you sit and enjoy the way goosebumps rise across his skin. You’re on a power trip, buzzing with the adrenaline of having a man like Carmy at your mercy.

“Good things come to those who wait,” you tease, before dancing your fingertips across the material of his boxers. His hips buck up into your hand and you relent, pulling his underwear down and off in one quick move.

He hisses as the cool air of the room hits his heated skin, the combination of sensations overwhelming.

You kiss along his hipbones, tasting salt and the musk that’s so Carmy. Nudging your nose into the juncture of his thigh, you chuckle when he shudders.

“Please, babe.”

“What do you want, Carm?”

“Just- just do something, please. Anything.”

Maybe it’s the rare show of manners, or maybe it’s his pleading tone, but you finally take pity on him. Grasping him in your hand, you give your wrist an experimental twist, biting your lip when he groans.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, all breathy and strained. He sounds so pretty like this, all loose limbed and pliable. “Shit, babe. Yeah.”

You take your time learning what he likes. Twisting, pulling, applying a little pressure. Carmy is writhing in his seat, completely unable to keep still. You keep pushing his hips back down firmly, putting him in his place.

He has his eyes screwed shut, head thrown back into the couch cushions, gorgeous neck exposed. You take him by surprise by wrapping your lips around him, sucking gently. His hand flies to your head, grasping for grip, for any kind of anchor.

You double down on your efforts, twisting your wrist as you hollow your cheeks. You rake the nails of your other hand down his thigh, squeezing occasionally to let him know you’re still good.

You feel his muscles go tense, knuckles gripping the cushion underneath him. He’s right on the edge - you can sense it.

So, you stop.

You pull away completely, laughing when his eyes shoot open, brows furrowed together.

“W-what? What the fuck? Why’d you stop?”

“Because I can.”

Carmy doesn’t even have the energy to come up with a sarcastic response. Instead, he sinks further into the couch, looking down at you with those big blue eyes.

“Babe.”

“So whiny. Jesus, Carmen, have some self respect.”

On any other day, he wouldn’t take that lying down. He’d sass you twice as hard, smirking when you roll your eyes. But today, he doesn’t have it in him.

“Please.”

“Oh you sound so pretty when you beg.”

He blushes, heat blooming up his chest and across his cheeks. He reaches out and traces your lips with his thumb, a tender gesture among all of the filth currently occurring.

“Do it more.”

He blinks at you, wondering if he heard you correctly.

“What?”

“Listen for once in your life, Berzatto. I said, do it more. Beg. Beg for it, and I’ll make you come.”

Carmy thinks he might have died and gone to heaven. He’s never seen this side of you before - in all honesty, you didn’t know it existed. He’s discovering a lot about himself tonight, and as confusing as it is, he’s loving it.

“Please, honey. Please.”

You click your tongue disapprovingly, shaking your head.

“Nuh uh. I want you to beg so hard that I am dripping, Carmen. Make it count.”

“You’re getting off on this,” he chuckles in disbelief. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

You mime tapping an imaginary watch on your wrist, signalling him to hurry up. In reality, you’d kneel here on the rug all night if he wanted, content to watch him all high strung and flushed.

“Okay, okay. Sweetheart, please. Fuck, I need it. Need it so bad. Need you so bad. Just- give me anything, something, please.”

His voice has gone all breathy, shaky and unsure. He sounds like he’s on the verge of tears, and the mental image of him crying because of you turns you on more than it should.

“Oh baby,” you coo. “Was that so hard? Hmm?”

He shakes his head, bitten lip between his teeth.

“Gonna give you what you need now, because you were so good. My pretty, pretty boy.”

It might be your tone, or it might be because you called him your boy, but Carmy melts. He’s nothing but a puddle, mewling and panting, no coherent thoughts left in his brain.

You get back to work, hollowing your cheeks and working whatever you can’t fit in your mouth with your soft hands. You swirl your tongue, pressing it to the underside of him when you pull back slightly for air.

You wonder, for a second, if you’ve broken your roommate. Nonsense is leaving his lips in constant streams, babbling under his breath like he’s lost his mind.

“Yeah baby, keep going please, please don’t stop.”

“Fuck you’re so good, s’good, so good.”

“Just wanna come, please honey, I’ll do anything. Anything you want.”

“Ohhh, yesyesyes, oh fuck, thank you baby, shit.”

You keep humming in response, and the vibrations are Carmy’s undoing. His hips jolt upwards as his back arches off the couch, fingers scrambling for purchase. He hits the back of your throat and you groan, letting him ride it out however he needs. He relaxes back into his original position, body completely spent.

You squeeze his thigh to get his attention, making sure he watches as you swallow everything he’s given to you. He groans, low and tired, shaking his head with a smile on his face. You rest your head on his leg, looking up at him.

“You good, Carm?”

He nods, trying to gather the energy to answer you properly.

“Yeah,” he says after a while. “I genuinely think I’ve never been better.”

You laugh, and the sound makes him grin, all slow and saccharine.

“I can’t move. Think you’ve ruined me.”

“That was the plan,” you wink, standing up and pulling his boxers back up his legs.

You grab a bottle of water from the kitchen, watching as he downs it all in one go. Sitting next to him on the couch, he pulls you into his side, slotting you there perfectly.

“Thank you,” he whispers into the evening dusk of the room. “Not just for making me come harder than I ever have in my life. But, you know… for everything.”

You chuckle, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Of course. You’d do the same for me.”

“Next time you have a bad day, I’m gonna throw you on the couch and eat you out until you cry.”

You groan, pinching his thigh in warning.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

@enigmaticloki @kaelabear @idontexist-anymore @jazminsjaz @kingsqueensandvagabonds

[callmewhenyougetthis-a]

Wait... wait... wait.

Was there something?

Was he feeling something?

No, that rustling was just the coffee bean grinder in the background.

"Fuck!" That didn't work.

He narrowed piercing blue eyes (albeit, now he supposed they were ghostly?) at the brunette. If he didn't criticize her with his words, she might be able to feel his striking judgment from his gaze. "That's the best you could do?" Jeremiah asked in disbelief. "No wonder I 'aven't been admitted into Hell yet. That was a piss-poor job, sweetheart."

With a shake of his head, he leaned forward on the table, resting his elbows on the surface and bringing his hands together. He took a deep breath, expression growing somewhat sincere. "I don't have the answers to your questions and I've got no clue why ole' Luci put you and me of all people together. But I do know we're stuck this way." He pulled his hands apart and reached out to her, fingers toying with the end of one of her braids. It was a test; could she feel him? That was the first time he'd attempted to touch her—surprisingly—and he found out just now that he actually could.

"Tell me," he began, still saccharine-sweet sounding. "Is all of this 'cause you, I dunno, tried to manifest me to be your boyfriend?" And there it was, his last shred of sincerity. "Because, poppet, all you had to do was ask."

He tried to remember when they first met. It was the only time they'd met, actually. He couldn't remember all of the details; all that was coming back to Jeremiah was that he was probably rude to her and she was likely being mousy over... something. There had to be some significance to all of this, and they'd have to do some serious investigating as to what it was.

"Say, what were you thinkin' when you were talkin' to that barista? When he was all dickish to you?" Jeremiah asked. "Did you want to strangle 'im or somethin'?"

"They're not a total sap fest. They're movies to make you...feel good. I don't know. Whatever. That's besides the point. You've been with me this whole time?" She asks again, but already knows the answer. Apparently he had been because for whatever reason, whenever he had died he had been attached to her, like some sort of guardian angel.

Except he said big guy downstairs. Not upstairs. Downstairs. "Woah, woah, woah - back up. Are you talking about Lucifer?" As much trouble as she could get herself into, the last thing she thought would be following her around was a demon. For crying out loud, her name was Angel!

"None of this makes sense. Why would you have to help someone in order to get to Hell? I would think it would be the other way around. You like, purposely fuck with someone before you can be on your way to the fiery pits." Realizing she was asking more questions he probably didn't have the answer to, Angel sinks back into her chair, shooting him an apologetic look. "Sorry. Brain's just trying to process all of this. I didn't think I summoned a demon last week."

She listens some more, wondering how crazy she must sound over here right now, talking to what seemed to be nothing. Dark haired woman looks to her left and then to her right, making sure no one was watching her too carefully.

And they weren't. The people that were in there were too busy with their own screens or whoever they were sitting with. They could care less about the girl in the corner who seemed to be losing it.

"Uh, okay, I can do that. Alright, here goes nothing." She clears her throat before continuing. "Lucifer, I am done with...uh, whatever this guy's name is here. I'm not sure why you sent him to me, but I don't need him. Goodbye...man?"

[fanaticsnail]

Hey! Hope you’re doing well this fine day~ I had a cute idea if u just wanna hear me rant about it.

So imagine teaching Killer a new pasta recipe whether that is a new sauce or new way to cook it and making it for him and watching him literally LIGHT UP with pure glee over how good it is. I say this as I’ve made my grandma’s spaghetti sauce which is STRAIGHT UP ADDICTING every time I make it and gobble it all up. Like the reader can be like a straw hat or kid pirate who is like hey I have this really yummy pasta recipe if you wanna try and afterwards she keeps on exchanging recipes with Killer and lowkey he in love with her mwahahaha (cause as they say in Princess and the Frog “the quickest way to a man’s heart, is through his stomach”). And she cooks it for him since he is always cooking 🥹🥹🥹

Also! I do have to add how much IM OBSESSED with the recent Hey Doc Drabble. Idk if you saw my tags but man I was GOING THROUGH IT. All the sweet nicknames and just the pure desperation for doc to be okay like 😭😭😭 and POOR HEAT AND BUBBLEGUM LIKE AWWWW I need a part 2 to that or SOMETHING just to see an aftermath if you will. Wire calling them “honey” had me WEAK.

Alright imma head out now, have a marvelous day/night 🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️

How did I miss this 😭. Thank you for your beautiful compliments on the 'Hey Doc' series. It's been an absolute joy to write. Reading through tags and reblogs are my favourite: especially when it's as enthusiastic as yours has been. You're so much fun, and I very much appreciate the time you take to read and go through my silly things. I can't write a full fic, but I hope this little drabble satiates the need of cooking with Killer 🖤.

Pasta

Masterlist Here

Word Count: mini-fic, just a little one.

Themes: Killer x reader, fluff, cooking, food, Killer is in awe, you are cooking, and I am hungry.

The one thing he hasn't managed to perfect is a pure, unadulterated Marinara. Anything to do with crushed tomato he finds too acidic, and over compensates with far too much salt to cut the tannins. He's tried everything: more onion, less herbs, malted brown sugar, refining his own salt by storing sea water on the oven, everything. He just can't seem to get it right.

Killer and pasta: his one weakness.

He would never admit it, but he has been attempting to perfect each recipe he comes upon. Pesto is all made from scratch: crushed fresh basil, the purest of virgin olive oils, a parmesan wheel with crispy salt crystals, oven toasted pine nuts, cloves of bulbed garlic, everything perfected by his skill in his kitchen. His pesto pasta is better than Sanji's, and the curly-browed chef is both impressed and intimidated by it.

Watching from a safe distance as you bounce gleefully within the dominion of the kitchen, he hunches his back and places his whiskered chin over his laced fingertips. He was unsure as to why you offered to cook for the crew, but your enthusiasm had him step aside to watch you work. It was the initial confession of homesickness that did it for him. Knowing food can aid in emotional regulation and comfort, he was more than happy to watch from his position sitting at the kitchen island.

And then the smell hit him.

The sweetness of roasting tomatoes, onion, garlic, and the herbal aromatics of thyme, rosemary and sage. The soft waft had his heart swell and beat in his chest and eyes twinkle in curiousity. Stirring the rotund vegetables in the pot and expertly crushing them with the blunt tip of the wooden spoon had him sit up attentively in his seat, watching you as you attend to the sauce from muscle memory alone.

He was in awe, perplexed, and intrigued.

Each time you would move on to another element of the dish, Killer would move a little closer. Each time your back was turned, he would perch himself just a little more towards the simmering pot. When you moved to the pantry to decide which shape of pasta to begin to boil, you could barely make out the shape of Killer's mask being partially elevated over his lips and nose by one large hand. Using a fresh spoon, he dips it into the sauce and puckers his purple-tinted lips and extends a breath of cool air to stifle the heat.

As soon as the first drops meet his tongue, he can't help the soft moan that escapes him at the flavor. Upon your return with a bag of penne in hand, you are immediately hoisted into the air with Killer's hands beneath your arms. Gently spinning you before placing you on the ground, he claps his arms over your shoulders and leans down closer. The purple hue of his lips is stretched up in a smile, his joy at your sauce immediately having him taken aback and fullfilled in the knowledge that he now has the answer he desperately seeks.

"Teach me. Please."

And who were you to deny him? It was a family recipe, and this crew aboard the Victoria Punk was your new family. Gently raising one of your hands to cup over his on your shoulder, you crinkle your nose at him and nod with a smile to match his own.

"Yes, chef."

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady

[kisseobie]

i love hard hours.. hehe….. what do you think about piwon and public sex 😵‍💫😵‍💫

p1harmony and public sex

pairings: ot6 p1harmony x reader

genre: nsfw (mdni)

a/n: mwahahaha i think many thoughts abt this actually…. thank u for ur contributions user wispyxjae

keeho ୭

is into it if you’re into it. doesn’t really think of it himself, but when you timidly bring it up to him before a date night he’s all ears. is definitely a hard dom, but a service dom at that, so who is he to refuse your cute little fantasy? as we may have noticed from my other keeho writings i’m … a bit obsessed with the idea of fucking him in a car and i’m not straying from that desire here either.. just imagine riling him up underneath the table during your date at a fancy restaurant, sliding one foot out of your red high heels and rubbing your foot along his groin, all while he glares at you, clearly unimpressed with your antics. keeho taking out his annoyance at your teasing him in the car, parked in a packed lot where anyone could walk by and see (and hear) what he’s doing to you. may even fuck you on the hood of his car if he’s feeling bold (and secretly is sure no one would be able to see) lol

theo ୭

personally, i think theo would be the one to bring up the idea of public sex to you. he’s not gonna be overly disappointed if you turn him down, but if you agree to it, he’s wasting no time the next instance the two of you are out and about to get down to business. the mens restroom is his personal favorite place to drag you to, it’s private enough if he puts in the effort to lock and barricade the door, but has thin enough walls for the opposite side to listen in on the nastiness of it all. although i may see him as a switch who leans submissive, i think public sex draws out a more dominant side to theo, in fact, it’s not even only dominance, he’s mean too. slapping your ass—and face if you’re into that—fucking into you so hard you’re drooling. definitely becomes a reoccurring part of your relationship once he’s gotten a taste of the thrill of being caught

jiung ୭

hmmm with jiung, i think you’d have to convince him. he’s definitely the voice of reason within your relationship, and it takes you several begs on multiple occasions, batted eyelashes and all, for him to finally give you the green light to pursue your little kink. i think you’d have a lot of fun with it, and would always aim to surprise your boyfriend when you’re out in public, like giving him a handjob at the movies, or even coercing him into a quickie in a dressing room stall. he’s always anxious that you’ll get caught and will have to live with the embarrassment of it, but a part of him, the possessive side maybe, also doesn’t mind. loves to know that he’s insatiable to you, so much so that you can’t go more than a few days without pulling him into a mildly secluded era to fuck and suck him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do <3

intak ୭

intak is shyer than most may believe. due to this, i think he might be a little apprehensive at first, but when the pair of you first begin having sex in more public places, he realizes he may be into it even more than you, despite it being your idea. this might not be considered public, but his favorite risky place to fuck you would definitely be the groups’ shared kitchen counter. the fact that any of his members could walk in on him eating you out really riles the poor boy up :( besides that, i think intak might even be a little weirdo that would enjoy fucking you in more unusual locations.. like the top floor of a parking garage at night.. or maybe even a busy library :DD he just can’t say no to you, sorry!

soul ୭

is neutral on the topic. he’s a pervy boy who loves fucking his hot girlfriend, so if said gf wants to have sex in an empty classroom, he’ll clear off some desks and get his ass to work! he really doesn’t mind most of your sexual fantasies, and in true shota fashion, is just the cute boyfriend who wants to give you each and everything you ask for, so i think sho would just go with the flow if you asked to be intimate in more risky, public places. i specifically can imagine you, dolled up in a flowy sundress, on a little picnic with your boyfriend, and soul having a mischievous smile on his face, giggling while poking his head under your dress and giving you head in a secluded area of a public park. he’s so eager to please :(

jongseob ୭

this man bro… i don’t think with yall it would really be a conversation, more of just a spur of the moment thing that would soon become a reoccurring fantasy shared by both of you! i can picture the two of you at an arcade of sorts, squeezing into a photo booth and taking cute couple photos. the film strip you chose had quite a few slots, and you suggest a kiss shot, which somehow leads to your boyfriend making out with you, and eventually pulling up your shirt and bra to knead at your tits, all whilst the photo booth continues to capture the intimate scene with consistent clicks. when yall finally realize the session has ended, you’re both blushing and scrambling out of the booth the retrieve the photos before anyone else can take a peak at them… woah

taglist: @woozixo @hearts4chanhee @kyokopi @astro-doll-the-star @soobiary @kyaaramello @t3ssamoodboard @angelcbf @idontknow-1s-world @vivienne-sim @elissasimp @imjustayapper @ihatewreckingballmains @sosaverse @seobing @www90kitsch @khfviq @barbiekh86t @bbyjjunie @taeyangi @fullsunstrawberry @jihnyah @intheemptymirror @watamotee33 @dreamer1299 @jixnnsie @wonootnoot @yukx-x047 @sundancearchives @chuuswifereal @seisyiss @fishsquishh @sunnyyangie

© kisseobie, please do not repost my writing!

𓂃✧ ୭

[meldelen]

So earlier today I saw this post on Instagram musing about Sauron in The Rings of Power, labelling him as a tragic antihero, with a chance to be redeemed/saved but definitely doomed, and that making him quite attractive as character to the viewer public.

I was thinking about it and I don't really think this fits nor Sauron as character in Tolkien's original lore, but neither in The Rings of Power. Sauron is not an antihero. The way I see it - and I accept I might be wrong - an antihero is a character that has some redeeming qualities, someone who acknowledges that has done evil - which Sauron does - and might repent or not, but unlike Sauron they're not driven by malice, they do not actively seek to cause harm even if they will do at some point, and maybe they will act to repay/compensate the evil done in the past - whether is recent or not - or try to do so, even if it implies the cost of their own life. Morally grey characters, if you want, but with cracks of light in their grey armor.

If you're familiar with Game of Thrones, which is rich in these kind of morally grey characters, I see, for example, Theon Greyjoy or Jaime Lannister as examples of antiheroes. I also want to see an antihero in Raistlin Majere - if you're familiar with Dragonlance - even if he has done so much more evil than the other examples. But the more I try to apply it to Sauron, the less it convinces me.

Maybe Halbrand could've been that antihero they're seeking, if Halbrand had been real. If he had wanted to take the redeeming path he claimed to have when Galadriel was still open to him.

But there's no Halbrand. There's only Sauron. And you can see all his choices as Halbrand, even if claimed to try to find his peace, are poor choices, because he's driven by selfishness: letting Diarmid die and getting the Kingfisher heraldry instead of helping him, abandoning the castaways in the raft to save his own skin, stealing the guild crest instead of earning it, and over all, faking a Southlander king's identity even if reluctant at the beginning. Now, if Halbrand was real, for how much pain he might have caused in the past, this doesn't look like a redeeming path. This doesn't look like antihero, or someone who can be redeemed/saved. Neither is he doomed. Because these are his personal choices, and he could do differently, only he just doesn't want to.

As Annatar, he shows more clearly what he is: a villain, a pure chaotic evil being. The Rings of Power works wonderfully showing he's incredibly complex, and cunning, and clever; not one-dimensional, not the typical mwahahaha villain he was hinted in Peter Jackson's movies because the narrative didn't allow him to be expanded further, but a villain, nevertheless. He does evil, he causes pain, and he does it for his agenda, because he wants it this way, even if he believes otherwise.

The discourse about wanting to heal Middle Earth, creating perfect peace and rejecting Morgoth's sadism and cruelty is just the discourse of a narcissist that believes his own lies and thinks he can do better. Celebrimbor tells him: "You're truly the Great Deceiver. You can even deceive yourself." He really believes in his own bullshit. He thinks he can do better, if only everyone else bend to his will and do what he says when he says so.

Shipping is fun and nice but if you watch season 2 with attention it's horrifying to see what Sauron really is throughout his actions, even if wrapped in the fairest of forms. His cruelty, brutality and outright Machiavellian way with which he manipulates and punishes are painful to watch, specially in the case of Celebrimbor, whom he also admired as a craftsman. The repugnant and sadist way in which he tortures and brutalizes Galadriel with Morgoth's crown because she has rejected him again was the foulest allegory of rape I've ever seen, in an universe where you'll never get sexual scenes, while loyal to Tolkien's lore. He claims not wanting to hurt her, but moments later, he enjoys her agony. And the way he excuses and absolves himself of all his sins because he wants to heal Middle Earth - save, and rule, he sees no difference - and because he was brutalized by Morgoth is also painful to watch.

Tolkien wrote - more or less - that he had served/suffered so much under Morgoth's grip that he fell easily back into evil, for he didn't want to see anymore other way of doing things. He could've done differently, but the exit to his labyrinth was to throw himself at the feet of Manwë and the other Valar and be judged, accepting whatever punishment went to him. But he didn't, for he's unmeasurably proud and would not suffer such humiliation. Beautiful how the show puts in Halbrand's mouth the words "and I knew if ever I was to be forgiven that I had to heal everything that I helped ruin", nice excuse to not go to bow to the Valar. I like to think he's also terrified of the idea he might be cast into the void where Morgoth is now, and be reunited with his former torturer. He made no secret about how much Morgoth still haunts him. But all this sadness and suffering absolve him of his present sins? Of course not. But he thinks they do.

In the end what we have is a cruel, prideful, sadistic, vain and narcissistic villain who has convinced himself that the world will be better when he rules it, and in his mind the order he wants is the suppression of Middle-Earth's people's free will. That doesn't mean he could not have good feelings; as I said, he felt respect and admiration for Celebrimbor, he rejoices at the beauty and peace in Númenor and Eregion - which he'll later destroy - and whatever he feels for Galadriel is genuine as well - it is moving to see how easily he admits and displays his feelings -, but that works as long as they respond to his wishes. When this turns differently, he starts breaking his toys, even if with Galadriel he takes a great amount of patience.

But these genuine feelings are not redeeming qualities. Neither is he doomed, as I said before, he could walk away from this path, he just doesn't want to. He thinks he's the good guy, compared with the monstrosity Morgoth was, he only will use whatever means he needs to meet his ends. And there is not love - the way we understand it, a selfless act of self-delivering - in anything he does, neither towards Galadriel who gets a special treatment in comparison to other characters - Mirdania for example - because unlike the latter, Galadriel means something to him, he sees someone with a similar pride, a similar ambition. What he fails to see is that Galadriel is not driven by evil and malice, because he's unable to recognize that evil and malice in himself.

So, in the end, not antihero, but villain. The worst kind, refusing to see that the real illness of Middle-Earth is himself. As Galadriel very well puts in, "You want to heal Middle-Earth? Heal yourself."

We know he won't listen, and that does not make him tragic either, for tragedy is something uncontrolled, left for the fates, and he is conscious of every step he takes, even if when something fails he lets himself get taken in a wave of rage and despair, as the pathetic being he really is.

The real tragic antihero here has always been Adar. At least him, for much pain and destruction he might have caused serving in Morgoth's/Sauron's armies, wanted something better for his Uruk, and was able to put his pride aside for a different outcome, even if it was too late for him. Now that's a redeeming quality.

[bloodmoonmuses]

mediocre party crashers | mark lee

genre: mark x reader, fluff, strangers to... more! yk. the usual. lol

a/n: unedited, just trying to get out of my writer's block with some summer vibesssss hehe

wc: 2.1k

warnings: crude language, extensive mentions of alcohol and being intoxicated, making fun of the upper class mwahahaha...

summary: with your best friend, ningning, you crash a birthday party... that also happens to be on yacht. when you lose her in the crowd of upper class partygoers, you cross paths with a guy named mark.

In your youth, you would’ve never imagined yourself crashing a party, but being friends with Ningning has brought its own adventures over the years. You think back to the more mundane variations of such; late night grocery store runs, impromptu road trips, scratching your toxic ex’s car with your car keys… Okay, maybe mundane wasn’t the right word. However, the scale of Ning Ning’s spontaneity seemed to grow in scope- the smaller adventures of the past no longer satiating her wanderlust and adrenaline seeking tendencies. 

So here you were, standing on the deck at the edge of the water, staring at a literal yacht. 

Some friend of a friend of a cousin of the second wife of Ningning’s brother had told her about the “little'' get together that was currently underway. Apparently, as suggested by the gaudy banner shoddily attached to the side of the boat, it’s a birthday party.

The scene before you is almost a tableau; unable to be registered as real to your working-class eyes. Everyone in your line of vision is richer than rich- dripping in the kind of luxury that one can only experience when backed by multiple bloodlines of generational wealth. Some say wealth whispers, but the money these people have is shrieking at you. 

To be honest, you were surprised when Ningning said she wanted to crash this party in particular. She’s a socialite, sure, but preppies weren’t really her crowd. Apparently, this was purely a social experiment from her point of view. Ningning had even gone as far as insisting the two of you dress the part. You were clad in a pleated skirt and striped tank top, whereas Ningning was in a collared Polo dress. It kinda felt like you were at a costume party- and when you think of it that way, the whole ordeal becomes way more fun. That is, until the anxiety kicks in. 

“Ning, my love,” you begin, “How are we supposed to get into this party?” 

Ningning pouts slightly, in that cute way she does, and shrugs. 

“Just walk in?” she says as if it’s the most obvious answer ever. “There’s no bouncer, silly. It’s a yacht party.” 

With that, she swings her hips and begins strutting towards the boat. Effortlessly, she walks into the party, not even batting an eye. You waddle behind her (albeit less gracefully) and instantly lose her in a crowd of gyrating bodies. Music floods your ears, and you call out for your friend- much to no avail. When you finally accept that it’ll be impossible to pin down Ningning for the night, you decide to explore the party by yourself. 

As the night progresses, the party becomes livelier. Actually, it’s like a bunch of little parties happening in various sections of the boat. At some point, you find yourself below deck, where it’s darker, grimier.. The flashing party lights make you feel alive. People start throwing back shots, and the music gets sluttier- recession-pop EDM that’s so shrill it’s painful. However, the feeling of the bass permeating your chest gets your heart pumping and your body moving. Also, considering Ningning is still nowhere to be found, your options for socializing are limited. A part of you loves it; being surrounded by warm bodies covered in a layer of sheen- shimmering as they move in sync and the waves jostle you about. You melt away from your form, feeling entirely free. There’s a reason you like crashing parties: you get to be someone else for the night.

 When you’ve danced enough, you take a seat on a sofa to catch your breath, closing your eyes as you take winded breaths. While your eyes are still closed, you feel the sofa dip beneath you. Finally, Ningning’s back, you think. 

“Ning, can we go? I’m kinda over this ‘Members Of The 1%’ circle jerk…” you joke in an exasperated sigh.

“I think the circle jerk is happening downstairs, if that’s what you’re looking for…” The deepness of the voice that responds startles you, making you sit up and open your eyes. Then, the body attached to the voice silences you. 

You’re enraptured by this man’s beauty- that sweet face of his boring into you with an air of amusement that makes your stomach flip. You vaguely remember seeing him on the makeshift dance floor earlier in the night, but the memory is fuzzy around the edges. You’ve been tipsy (bordering on drunk) for a while now. 

Your face immediately warms up. “Shit… I meant-”

“Here for the birthday party, and not the circle jerk then?” the stranger says, cutting off your stammering. There’s a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, and his already massive eyes are dilated, indicating that he’s had a drink or two himself.

“Uh. Yeah,” you lie (not very convincingly). 

The man nods, and you mirror him. “Johnny’s the best, isn’t he?” he says.

“Mhm. So happy we’re able to celebrate him today…”

“Yeah…” he trails, looking at you inquisitively. “-but Johnny’s birthday is in February.” 

It’s currently June. Fuck.

You begin to stammer again, wishing you’d sink into the couch beneath you. “Right! I just meant-”

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“To be honest with you… I don’t know,” you concede.

“Well, for future reference, it’s Taeil’s birthday. Isn’t it, like, Party Crasher 101 to know who the birthday boy is?”

“I’m not really crashing. At least, not in the traditional sense. I’ve been on my best behavior, all things considered.” You’re tipsy, sure, but haven’t caused much harm. Ningning, on the other hand… Lord knows what she’s been up to. She probably has a whole list of new friends at this point. (And has probably swiped a few goodies to sell on Ebay.)

“Well, I am,” the man says.

Oh? you think.

The stranger stretches his hand towards you, gesturing for you to shake it. As you do so, he introduces himself. “Mark. Habitual party crasher.”

“_______. Mediocre, but also habitual, party crasher.”

“Nice to meet you, ______.” You drop your hand from his. After an awkward pause, you stand to leave. “Uh, Where are you going?” Mark asks, panic flooding his features. What’s his deal?

“Off to tell my handler that the jig is up,” you say. When you start to leave again, Mark says, “Wait!” He grasps your hand tightly, shockwaves shooting up your arm from the contact. For a brief moment, you’re enamored. The remnants of the sunset give the room an orange glow and Mark looks golden. His eyes are twinkling.  

However, you snap out of your reverie quickly. When you give Mark a look, one that says “Who the fuck do you think you are?”, he quickly drops your hand from his hold. You snatch your hand away. Now, it’s Mark’s turn to stammer through a blunder.

 “So I was wondering…do you want a tour of the boat?” he asks lamely.

You give him the up-down. He’s in bright orange pants and rugby stripes. A bit dorky, but cute. His brown hair falls into his eyes delicately, making his entire demeanor more… boyish. Even the redness across his cheeks (that’s also spreading to his neck) just makes him seem so inviting. You’re drawn to him like fire- warm, bright and hypnotizing. 

You’re overtaken with the urge to see just how profusely you can make him blush- to see him in his skittish glory at the hands of your teasing. Before you get a chance to act on this, however, Ningning bounds into the room. She’s been swimming, as suggested by her wet hair and swimsuit cover. You notice a new bracelet as well. 

“Babe, they’re about to sing Happy Birthday. Free cake!” Ningning squeals. As she pulls you out of the room, you flash Mark an apologetic look. 

The partygoers gather on the deck, the setting sun shining indigo against deep  water. It’s breathtaking. You could absolutely get used to this. A crowd forms around a table with a birthday cake at the center, and you attempt to scan the area for Mark. 

As people begin to sing (to Taeil, not Johnny), you feel someone sidle up next to you. When you turn to see that it’s Mark, you smile. 

“Hey,” he says. 

You lock eyes with him, heart thumping similarly to when the dance music was coursing through your veins. “Hi.”

Mark rubs his neck with his hand, sheepishly trying to pick up where the two of you left off. “So I was gonna ask-”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUUUU…” the crowd breaks out into song enthusiastically, drowning out Mark’s voice. 

“What?!” you yell, leaning in to listen.

Mark tries to project over the (horrible) singing. “I was saying we should-”

“Huh!?”

Before you realize it, the birthday song has come to a close.

“Do you still want a tour of the boat!?” Mark practically screams. His voice cuts through the sudden silence like a knife. It’s incredibly embarrassing and Mark’s entire face turns bright red.

Taeil looks at the two of you, quirking a brow confusedly. “Um… who are you?” he asks, looking back and forth between you and Mark. 

“Uh… Ningning’s friend.” 

“Mark. Just… Mark.” He’s beet red. 

“Oh. Nice to meet you both,” Taeil says. Everyone resumes the party, firing off confetti and popping some (very expensive) champagne. The music resumes as well, starting back up the party, and you look around to see that Mark has disappeared. Again.

“Gonna try to sneak some cake, then we can head out. Meet back here in 10?” Ningning says. You nod, and make your way to the cabins below deck. You can’t let Mark go.

The first door you open, the room is empty. At the second door you reach, you hear moans, so you immediately run in the opposite direction. The third door you wander to swings open just as you reach for the knob, and out walks the man of the hour, Mark.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” you say. 

“Do you still wanna-”

“Let’s just chat on the deck. Fuck the tour,” you conclude with a giggle. 

“Sounds good to me. I don’t know my way around anyway.” 

At this, you chuckle, and the two of you walk to a pair of lounge chairs. The moon is out, little fairy lights strewn on the railing making the air feel magical. The breeze is just a little too cool. Mark must notice this, because he takes off his dress shirt and drapes it over your shoulders. 

“Thanks,” you mutter. 

“Do you crash parties often, or is it more of an occasional thing?” Mark asks.

“Relatively often. It’s fun to be someone else for a night sometimes.”

“So the get-up is for fun?”

“Do I look like I wear Polo in my day-to-day life?” you ask. 

Mark chuckles. “I don’t know, dude. You could pass as a preppie.”

You deadpan. “That’s the meanest thing you could’ve ever said to me.”

“I’m kidding. Seriously though, you’re, like, way cooler than anyone else here. I saw you dancing and-”

“You saw that?!” you squeal.

Before responding, Mark stands from his lounge chair to sit next to you. He adjusts the shirt that is still draped over your shoulders, his touch warming you up more than the garment has in the last few minutes. You’re a goner.

For a moment, the two of you bask in each other’s energy, the slight rocking of the boat and sound of crashing waves lulling you into effortless serenity.

“You’re so free.” Mark bores into you again and it’s suffocating. You know nothing about him, yet you’re privy to the lifetimes behind his eyes. Perhaps you’ve been a part of one of them- a message in a bottle finally surfacing on a beach’s shore. You believe in the existence of fate, but only for the night. 

“That’s all I’m saying,” Mark continues.

You shake off the feeling of being so seen, breaking his hypnotizing eye contact. Untangling yourself from his quiet multitudes. 

“What about you? Do you crash parties often?”

“Weddings, usually. Mostly for the cake. Bought a tux for it and everything.”

“A professional. I’m impressed,” you say.

You look out to the water, feeling its breeze envelope you, and a shiver runs through your body.

Mark is bashful again, head dipping slightly as he suggests, “We should crash a party together sometime.”

Your eyes return to him as you say, “For sure.”

“Does that mean I can get your number?” You take Mark’s  phone wordlessly, and enter your number, after which Mark says, “Apparently that Johnny guy is having a rodeo themed party next week… Wanna go?”

“And be mediocre party crashers together? Definitely.”

[menheim]

𝗣𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝘷𝘪𝘢 𝘐𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮

“And so my villain arc begins, mwahahaha 🐍”

[suzukiblu]

Final entry I worked on for this round of @haunting-heroes-creative-games's "Guess The Artist"; my solo piece! This one is based on The Moon Is Trans by @chromatographic, because she did both my collabs with me and I thought that it'd be a funny sneak attack, and also because this fic is a VERY large part of what got me into DPxDC fandom to begin with, hah. I just love it so much, guys. T4T Jazz/Jason 5everrrrr.

Like ninety-nine percent of everyone playing immediately clocked it as my entry but the real joy was making Chroma yell at me in DMs for sneaking in art for her fic to surprise her, so I feel like really it's a winner for that alone, mwahahaha.

[depomera]

Maul will soon be training as Sheev’s apprentice and will no longer serve as an acolyte. The Force knows Maul’s heart lies elsewhere but can only offer guidance and the comfort of eternal darkness.

I thought it would be rad if there were more Sith Force ghosts/spirits. Like thousands of years old Sith Lords/extremely gifted dark force users. They appear as monsters/creatures and perhaps possessing what is nearby or present themselves as spirit entities. I wanted them to look more like monster/creature summons from J/RPGs. That way, powerful Force users who specialize in necromancy can ‘summon’ force spirits and wreck havoc mwahahaha.

***

• Child Maul is a very gentle and a caring soul. Can talk to animals therefore more adept to talk to spirit entities.

•Ancestors (one who followed the path of Sith), can sense Maul is at odds with himself. It appears before him to give him guidance. Not necessarily answers but open ended questions that will aid Maul in his personal endeavors.

• Maul doesn’t want to train as an apprentice, but instead to further his druidic training. This is where his decent into madness begins.

[siremasterlawrence]

New Bodies Part 1 & 2

So my career is kicking up in to the air as my voice leaves a echo reaching in to a the sky and soon enough I lay down on my bed I close my eyes.My body transfers in to spirit from flying in to the sky I float off in to the midst of a new universe somewhere in space I begin to think.

I wish that I could be able to possess others powers to serve only me and when I need a new body. It is pretty crazy suddenly my body swirls in to the air sending my flying in to the body of another who falls like a tone of bricks I find myself waking up.

Groggy I woke up from a state for the first time in my life I am drunk wiping my eyes and I barely am able to sit up fleeing all the things spiraling out of control and I knew I have a new way of life and being since he is a ass.

The next thing I know I am on my feet once more moving forward to the bathroom I close the door slamming it hard in a gruff soon stumbling to the sink my hands manger to reach it and I hold on tight the voice is weird.

My eyes roll up staring in my eyes it took for a while for me to see it but I freak one finally able to gain control I notice something off it is the body of Scott Eastwood I am fully in possession. Speaking of it I find him very conflicting for a number of reason because of his assholic father.

Number two he is an exact copy of him with that some arrogant, hard core, not so hot or attractive face many seem to like he is quite a catch though because speaking of that word nepotism like great white shark his father appears.

“Hey dad…what’s going on? I am fucked in haha.” I manage to say half wanting to barf.

“You’re drunk as per usual.” He states to me with a smile.

“I guess…hahaha” I reply avoiding his gaze the best I can.

“Fuck!” Clint says angrily smashing the Newspaper.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Fucking pansies.” He yells.

“Calm down dad!” I write.

“Fuck off” he says closing the door.

“I need to get out of here.” I tell myself.

“My dad” I call to him.

“Don’t be a liberal “ he yells

“Sure thing…fuckwad” immature I know but I hate him.

“Taking control of his body now”

“He can be drunk to new day”

“Yes! Perfect “

Driving off to the house he calls home I park his car swiftly walking in to the front door I enter the house racing up the stairs I undo my my jacket throwing on to the bed stand in front of the mirror I set up my cellphone on a tripod.

Creating a new instagram account I set up my cell on a tripod press record moving back I wink at the camera doing a sexy dance, blow a seductive kiss while I shake my body and slowly remove my clothes one piece at a time.

I feel new body up touching my pecs I hit it hard then start to squeeze them tightly in a seductive motion I turn around showing my ass. I shake it hard smacking it slipping my underwear down l lick my finger make a hot sound as I touch my ass.

Flipping the switch off inhaling my scent as my nose digs in to his skin I watch all of my control over him, deep down I can sense he is being turns him on he can’t help it he is wanting to hump something and I give him what he wants.

“Oh God! I am so fucking hot! Hawt damn you will provide get ways for my voice so yeah.”

“Look at this face, body and my ass.”

“Fuck yeah!”

“Sent…mwahahaha “

“Time to get ready for my party “

“We will blow shit up”

“Everyone drink everything “

“All the booze are free”

“Let’s party “

“Who wants to dance ?”

“I am hard “

“So horny “

“Ffffuuucccckkkk”

“FUCK”

“Their eyes are on me”

“This white ass can look so stupid”

“I am going to fuck someone “

“Smash him”

It is two months later when I am literally in a city in Mexico on vacation that my time has come to an end with Scott.

He is boring me that night I had one more romp in the hay exploring his body then fell a sleep in his sweat.

I woke up in the embrace of the sun to way too many text in the morning form his far too infernal father Clint.

Picking up my cellphone I throw to the wall ignoring it I get up sliding off of the bed on to my feet.

A full length mirror lays on the wall before me as I press a tiny button on his neck the skin becomes loose.

It begins deflate his husk to floor like an air balloon running out of air I step out of it in disgust.

I had to make hash racing to the bathroom a shows awaits me clothes ready on the bed as I dry and exist the room.

Funny enough Justin Baldonis hot Italian ass

pumps into me staring at his phone I take my chances

He is distracted so I place the device on his neck press if he fades in to his own mind and deflated away.

This perfect I drag his ass in to a bathroom in the hallway slipping him on to my skin he forms over me.

My height rises to tend fold to new levels I can look way over me and everything and everyone seems so small.

My body goes from a bit toned exploding in to a massive wad of toned muscles and new strangling never before.

I smirk with a bright white smile showcase his teeth I do a sexy dance stepping on to the elevator.

Winking at woman passing by the door shut as it drops to the first floor I move on with my life and head to the airport.

Once one the plain I can sense Scott is back to normal form coming to with a migraine and angry father on the line.

“Wow! Poor Scott! He just noticed the tattoo”

“Asswipe! He wants to be angry and ring my neck.”

“He is turned on”

“Oooh! So is Justin”

“Dam! Why so horny?”

“God! I am hard”

“So…oooohhh”

“I guess I am going the mile high club”

“With my new body?l

“That counts right ?”

“Mwahahahahaha “

“Excuse me!”

“Get out the way “

“OH BABY!”

“Mmmmmmm”

The end

[suseagull04]

🫶🏻 with a character of your choosing, either fandom! (how the tables turn mwahahaha)

It was an easy choice this time, believe it or not! Enjoy!

“Do something just for you, something that brings you joy,” Gavin had said at their last therapy session. 

Henry had been a bit hesitant at first. After all, as a writer, there was always so much that needed to be done, and his agent, Shaan, was always a stickler for deadlines. 

Nothing wrong with a little reading, though, a small voice that bore a remarkable resemblance to that of his sister, Bea, whispered in his ear. And Henry had realized she had a point.

So he packed a book (two, actually, he was much too close to the end of one to dare leaving the house without having another to start) and set out. 

He got to the coffee shop and was pleasantly surprised to see that his favorite barista, Alex, was standing behind the counter. “Hey. The usual?”

“Please, if you wouldn't mind.”

“I do, actually. Tea is a disgusting concoction that should've never been invented. But since you're one of my favorite customers, I'll let it slide.”

“One of your favorite customers, eh?” Henry repeated, smirking. 

“Don't let it get to your head, Henry.”

With a laugh, Henry scouted out his favorite booth, the one with the outlet that was right by the fireplace (not that they had it running in September in DC) to wait for his tea. 

He had just opened his book when Alex called his name. 

“Thanks,” Henry said, trying not to read too much into the way Alex's hand lingered on the cup once Henry had a hold on it, their fingers brushing each other just enough to send a bolt of lightning that touched every inch of Henry's body. If that happened with just one touch (and a simple one, at that), what would happen if he ever got to kiss the attractive bartender? 

Henry, snap out of it, he scolded himself. Nothing is ever going to happen between the two of you. 

He kept reciting that mantra as he started reading, but as he read about the hero’s beloved, he couldn't help picturing a certain bartender's curly hair and dark eyes. 

He picked up his tea to take a sip, and as he did, he noticed something written on it in black. Thinking it was likely his name, he thought nothing of it, but as he turned the cup slightly as he set it down, he noticed the writing was longer than the five letters of his name. 

He spun the cup to the beginning of the writing, only to find a number written in a hasty scrawl. 

He grinned, his heart beating faster. Maybe he would get his happy ending after all. Creating a new contact, he texted Alex: It's Henry. Would you like to go out with me sometime? 

He returned to his book, not expecting a reply anytime soon. After all, Alex was working. 

Alex's response came much sooner than expected, though, barely giving Henry enough time to turn the page of his book before his phone was dinging. You're on, sweetheart. Pick me up when my shift’s done at 7?

Henry couldn't wait.