#I only found one very suspicious service that had it and I was about to give them my PayPal

[nick-caves-kylie-minogue-bag]

I think we should decriminalize the act of illegally downloading ebooks for the sheer reason alone that it’s the most uncool crime ever.

Just imagine sitting in the county jail and you turn to some tough guy and ask: “what are you in for?”

And he goes: “drug possession, assault and attempted robbery… you?”

And you look at your feet for a while and then quietly have to answer “… I illegally downloaded the epub for The Road from Cormac McCarthy for free”

Like at that point just let me out of jail and give me my book because that encounter alone would be a punishment worse than a death sentence.

[rottenk1sses]

thinking of corrupting innocent art, maybe he grew up religious and his chastity ring is his most prized possession, but he can't say no to your advances, doesn't say yes either— but he never stays away for too long, anyway comes crawling back wordlessly like a puppy w his tail between his legs

cw : corruption, coercion/elements of dubcon (18+)

pastor’s son!art donaldson who stays in his hometown instead of going off to college; opting to help his father with the church as the months tick by, only fueled by a sense of duty and maybe a bit of religious guilt..

you knew the very instant you set eyes on him that you had to have him.

he always looked like an angel when he was stood behind his dad during services—the yellowed overhead light shining suspiciously brighter on him alone; his neatly groomed golden curls bouncing in front of his forehead with every obedient and devout nod of his head to the words of the verses. pretty, you had thought, pure.

the first time you ever tried to seduce him, the church had already emptied out to give you the perfect opportunity to slide into a pew and call him over to ‘talk’. of course, he was more than happy to do so. he talked with everyone, it was like a second nature to provide comfort to others.

he found you really attractive when he finally got a good look at you, sexy even. but the idea of perceiving you that way had curdled a gross feeling in his gut. it wasn’t right—it wasn’t him—and he knew that. but he still chose to sit down next to you that particular evening and indulge that disturbing part of himself. could it really be so wrong to appreciate one of god's fellow creations?

he knew deep down that god would be ashamed.

you had chatted him up for less than ten minutes (making up a sad story about how awful your life was going) before your hand was sneaking over his thigh, sliding over the dark fabric of his church slacks. he'd frozen completely stiff at the feeling, like he was scared of how he felt about the touch and petrified of the consequences.

art chuckled nervously and looked to your eyes, almost pleading.

“uhm,” he breathed out shakily, pushing your touch gently from his body, refusing your advances, “i don’t, uh.. im not—..”

he hoped that his lack of an actual explanation would be a good-enough one in of itself, but you pushed back anyway despite his protests. draping your leg over his, stroking his blond hair, leaning in to kiss his flushed neck. he was trembling all over. now god was really going to strike him dead.

“shhh,” you whispered, “just let me make you feel good, okay? that would really help me feel better…”

he wanted to say no. he wanted to shoot up from his seat and run away like a scared little pup, protecting the sanctity of his body and mind from whatever sin you were corrupted with, but he didn’t. a deeper, sicker part of him couldn’t. he was disgusted with himself.

an anxiousness started to brew just under his skin, and he felt it filtering through his blood like a petrifying poison. like a mess of flies buzzing around a decaying body that was buried deep in the midst of his morality. he couldn’t move; he couldn’t fight back.

but oh.. it.. it felt good..? and he did want to help you..

he was almost surprised by how quick he'd gotten an erection. it strained up against his zipper before you even got a chance to grope him properly.

and then you did.

and then he felt that awful, putrid, incredible feeling bubbling up from his pelvis; a feeling that he had only allowed himself to indulge in when he was at home, in the dead of night, tucked into the messy covers and rocking his hips into his mattress to chase the temptation.

an innocent loophole.

after all, he’d never physically touched himself there in a sexual manner, let alone with the hand of his that held a finger banded in silver—a symbol of his purity—so it would be alright in the end, right? he had only ever done it to scratch an itch. a forbidden itch, sure, but god wouldn’t want him to suffer like that. a quick bit of relief, and then it was over and done with. always.

but in that particular moment, when he was feeling someone’s touch over his pants for the very first time, he had decided that he wasn’t sure he wanted to indulge. maybe it really was as wrong as he knew it to be. he shook his head.

“wait—“ he gasped, squirming on the wooden pew as his head tipped back slightly, his trembling fingers squeezing the edge of the surface under him, “wait, wait, i— oh—oh-!”

he was letting out noises then that made him sound like an innocent fawn, wailing out in a mix of confusion and pleasure and shame and fear as he felt his cock spasm and flood his underwear with an overwhelming warmth. despite his verbal hesitation, he had pushed his hips up hard into your touch as he orgasmed���grinding against it as the shocks of release stung the finger that wore the ring of silver. he could almost feel the metal burning into his skin amidst all of the overstimulating ecstasy that caused his thighs to quake. guilt radiated through all of his bones; seeping into his marrow.

he had sinned, fully and wholly. he was a sinner.

your touch dirtied him. infected him.

you had made him this way.

he was supposed to be good; a good person, a good son, a good follower.

but you had ruined it. all of it.

he’d never been prone to anger, but right then he had wanted to shout. he wanted to shove you away, get down on his knees, and begin repenting. mumbling pleas and apologies with his hands clasped together and his head hung, bowed in penance. his body weighed down by the heavy stone of his own culpability in the situation; the realization that he hadn’t done enough to refuse your attention.

but, in the end, he couldn’t find it in himself to deny his body the gratification of being so close to you. he was no longer worthy of god’s forgiveness anyways, so he turned his head and looked to your eyes, tears pooling in his own. they dripped down his flushed cheeks as he pulled ragged, greedy gasps of air into his lungs. his chest rattled as he cried. the feeling of the slimy wetness soaking into his underwear had only made the sting of reality more pitiful.

if he had looked like an angel before all of this, he surely was a fallen one now.

“…th-thank you, i'm sorry…” he sobbed softly, “i’m sorry.”

he didn't quite know who he was apologizing to.

it had only felt right.

[loveluvrs]

williams blue looks good on you l logan sargeant x reader

request/summary – hiiii can u please do a one-shot with Logan where y/n is Max's little sister and he's protective over her? You can go in whichever direction u want!!! Thnx!!!!

author's notes – lando win fic coming soon TRUST !! 🙏😭

you regularly showing up to support max in races since you two were very close, adorned with redbull gear head to toe

when Logan first saw you in australia, he was massively starstruck and couldn’t even get the courage to talk to you, so instead just ended up staring from afar the entire day. Oscar noticed the staring. since you were friends with Oscar, he did Logan a favor and introduced you guys

at first it started off with Logan asking you small stuff about yourself to try and get to know you better, but was met with a few dry responses since you were busy with uni most of the time. As time went on, he started getting more comfortable, with super sweet good morning and good night texts, and a daily supply of memes 

it was for his home race that for the first time ever, you showed up in a non-redbull outfit, a navy blue dress on and Logan’s team cap on to surprise him

you didn’t even find Logan before Max found you, and you instantly took off the cap. he was immediately suspicious as to why you weren’t wearing your usual redbull attire, and you casually shrugged it off as needing a change from the boring outfits you normally wore

after Max left, you texted Logan to meet you in front of the Williams garage, and surprised him with your outfit as a way to support him, with playful banter between the two of you that it’d be the only time he’d see you without the red bull merch on 

"williams blue looks good on you," he said with a flirty smile, a sentence that you could not get out of your head since that moment

i can see him being a huge acts of service guy, so he’d show you around his hometown and insist on being your (slight annoying) personal tour guide

you posting a slight soft launch which is “dedicated to the best tour guide.” Max knew you were hanging out with Logan so he immediately texted both of you, making a new gc. stay away from my sister??? he texted. you then prompted to kick Max out of the gc

Logan and you became super close eventually, going out on hangouts (not dates, Max insisted) with him almost every weekend. hed fly out to you whenever he could between races, and would do anything so he could see you more

sometimes Max would be a pain and when he was in the country the same time as you and Logan, hed almost always tag along to these ‘hangouts,’ insisting that ‘he didnt know you two were gonna be here at this time’

reluctantly, Max sat you down one day, and said that hed be okay with you and Logan being a thing only if he had permission to beat Logan up if he broke your heart. with a giggle, you accepted. “he’s not gonna break my heart, anyways, Maxie,” you said confidently

and so Max told Logan this too, so he finally asked you out on a date. hed gone the whole way; flowers, a nice dinner, dressed up all nice, and even insisted on not talking about fishing the whole night

still as Logan and your relationship developed, max would glare at logan any chance he got. logan would always feel a little anxious and uncomfortable when this happened, and you had to physically turn him around each time, slotting your hand in his to comfort him

[fourohfourlifenotfound]

Okay so hi I'm not super in any of your fandoms (watcher + try guys + dropout, hello welcome) but I'm a software developer and BOTH try guys and watcher announcing a custom streaming platform so close together had me suspicious.

So with just one, I'd assume that maybe they scraped together the money and resources to hire enough devs to make a well-designed secure platform (you want security for your login info and payment info). But two? Seems a bit odd.

So I actually looked a bit closer, at their privacy policies:

So it looks like Vimeo has decided to up their game and partner with existing yt content creation outlets to make streaming platforms.

Wait, what about Dropout? Dropout uses it too!

What does this mean, exactly?

Well, it means that Vimeo is providing a base software that gets customized for use by the companies (watcher, 2nd try). It means that Vimeo has a hand in your data associated with these platforms (account info, payment info, watch info, etc...). Is that a bad thing? Idk yet. Read through the streaming platform's privacy policy and Vimeo's privacy policy and make your own decision about what you feel comfortable sharing. But realistically the only additional info collected compared to your average youtube use is the financial info, and that seems to go through another third party (4th party?) (like Stripe or something like that. very common, most of your financial transactions online use things like that). It also likely means that Vimeo is taking some kind of cut of the profits made from these subscriptions (and lets be real, in this day and age, they're not just demanding a flat fee. It's likely some percentage of your subscription cost). The companies switching over (watcher and 2nd try) are making the gamble that the money made on subscriptions after cost taken is more than their adsense from yt, which isn't a wild idea considering how much we know yt loves demonetizing videos and paying their creators poorly.

It also means that Vimeo seems to be on some sort of marketing push, and that more of your favorite channels may swap over to streaming services in the near future.

Vimeo???? Yes, vimeo, that bootleg youtube that's been around for like as long as I can remember being on the internet. I guess they finally found a way to usurp yt's market control and good for them ig. Maybe this will be the thing that finally forces yt to fix their creator relationships? time will tell Why are you posting this in my favorite media company's tag?? I wanted fanart! Sorry to intrude, I just think this is neat and would love to hear opinions from other people on this knowledge.

[noodyl-blasstal]

Goin' Underground

Happy birthday to @ceilingfan5 plotted with Thie on a coach, we had a goodfun time playing and I hope you have a goodfun time reading.

Find below or on Ao3.

--

Kravitz hated living in the city.

He hated living in a city so big it was basically several cities shoved together and all the bits had different names but everyone pretended it was still the same place.

He especially hated living in a city so big it was several cities shoved together because, by its very nature, ‘freelance cello tutor’ came with a general economic class of students. An economic class Kravitz was not. Kravitz could be polite to rich people. Kravitz could dress up for rich people. Kravitz could not afford to live near rich people. So every Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday he found himself in suspiciously clean tube stations, hoping that Alfons would figure out how to spend less time seemingly looking for ways to hurt the cello as he played; that Clementine would pass her exam; that Zhong would get his scholarship. The leafy stations were a stark contrast to the one near his flat, but research grants only go so far and he needed space to store his instruments.

Today though, today was a practice day. He couldn’t afford to rent proper practice rooms, but he could afford the Friends Meeting House, especially as they hadn’t increased the cost in the last three years. He was fairly sure Mrs Chen had decided he was entirely broke and she wasn’t entirely wrong. He’d long given up trying to get her to stop giving him ‘leftover’ food to take home, it was too delicious not to accept. He wouldn’t change a thing about the practice space, apart from it being even more in the middle of nowhere than his flat, lacking music room equipment, and the horrible acoustics... At least there was a special peace to the tube station there, grubby and run down, but very rarely busy, to the point where most of the time it was just Kravitz. Tonight was no different, apart from the inexplicably rammed tube. The doors opened and no one left.

Kravitz stared at the complete lack of space he was somehow supposed to fit into.

This was the worst bit of tube travel, he hated having to touch strangers, especially with a cello in tow, but no one was moving, so he was going to have to push even though it wasn’t polite. Surely they could congregate away from the doors? There had to be space somewhere.

Kravitz forced his way on, breathed a sigh of relief once he was contained enough to consider, and speedily discount, grabbing a pole which goddess knows how many hands had touched before his.

The platform speakers crackled. "Hey, handsome cello guy, you're hanging out…”

Kravitz glanced down in a panic. This was awful, he’d had nightmares about this…

“...Your cello my dude, not your fly." The person making the announcement sounded like he was trying not to laugh.

Kravitz wished the man next to him who still refused to move would do the same, but at least it meant he didn’t feel overly bad when he swung his cello sideways and bashed the unapologetic chuckler with it slightly.

He did feel bad about the guy at the station though. Kravitz never wanted to make anyone’s job harder, especially when they worked in customer service. He felt bad about it as he heated up his rice. He felt bad about it as he stretched his hands. He felt bad about it as he meant to do something fun, something for himself, but then the night disappeared and he brushed his teeth and showered and fell asleep.

The sign was his first thought when he woke up. It was simple, but obviously the person making the announcements had eyes on the station because he knew about the cello. Before Kravitz headed out for the day he grabbed a thick felt tip and quickly scrawled ‘sorry’ in the largest lettering he could make fit, threw the paper in his music bag, and didn’t think about it again until, Alfons-weary from earlier in the day and practiced out because he couldn’t afford to skip time he’d paid for he headed for the tube.

He held the sign in his hand, unsure how to know if the person was even working this evening… maybe this was one of the things where it was best to leave it and not break some kind of social rule no one told him existed. (But ‘if you do something wrong you say sorry’ is the only relevant rule he knows so it’s probably fine.)

“What you got there, Kemosabe?” The same voice crackled out of the speakers.

Kravitz automatically held the sign up.

There was a noise that sounded like a snort. “For the cello thing?” The voice asked, intrigued.

Kravitz opened his mouth, hesitated, realised that there probably wasn’t a microphone to pick his voice up, and nodded instead.

“Taako can find it in his heart to forgive you. That’s my handle by the way, I’d ask yours, but I figure that you can’t just yell it.”

Kravitz should have brought his pen. He didn’t know why, but he knew that it was exceedingly important that Taako knew his name. He checked his watch, there was still a few minutes before the train, so he raised his right arm and his left leg, trying his best to embody the essence of ‘K’.

The announcement started with laughter. “That’s got to be a K my guy.”

Perfect, it had worked. Kravitz could do this. He left his leg in position, bending his left arm to meet his right and trying desperately not to fall over as his weight shifted and the cello strapped to his back did too.

“R!” Taako sounded positively gleeful. Kravitz hoped that video of this didn’t end up circulating the internet, he didn’t want to be ‘inexplicably spelling his own name in the tube station’ guy.

He widened his stance and held his joined hands above his head.

It took Taako a second. “A. Kra… Kraig?”

Kravitz shook his head, trying very hard not to look grumpy about it. He raised his arms above his head, wide apart.

“Y.”

Kravitz shook his head no, tried to shrink down, tried to remember how the cheer team had portrayed this one when he was in band. How to exude V…

“Are you trying to have less legs?” Taako asked.

Kravitz nods, yes.

“V! V is Y without legs.” Taako said, matter of fact. “So you’re Krav?”

Kravitz becomes an I in response.

“Kravi?”

He was about to seamlessly turn himself into a T when the screech of an approaching train drilled its way into his ears. Maybe, actually, this was the worst part of travelling by tube.

He waved at the security camera instead of opening his arms out wide.

“Bye Taako.” He said quietly as the door opened on a thankfully near-empty carriage.

–

“Hey Kravi!” Taako’s voice piped up as soon as he descended the steps to the empty platform. “Thought you’d given up on ol’ Taako.”

Kravtiz tried his best to look apologetic as he held up the sign.

“Ah, Kravitz. Train interrupted you?”

Kravitz nods.

“You have to show me how you were going to do the Z.” Taako demanded quickly.

Kravitz dropped to his knees, leaned slightly backward and extended his arms.

“Very impressive.” Taako’s voice sounded lower. Kravitz wasn’t entirely convinced that he was talking about the shape alone.

He tried to get up, failed as the weight of the cello suddenly grabbed his shoulders again. Perhaps he hadn’t entirely thought this through.

“You okay there, Kaverino?”

Kravitz nodded, flustered. He could do this, it was fine. It was too embarrassing not to be.

He flicked a foot out, getting a strong stance, then hauled himself up to take more weight in his other knee, spreading his arms for balance. Okay, now he just needed to stand. This was fine.

Kravitz wobbled.

“Are you sure you’re okay there, kemosabe? Cha’boy can’t come down and help you, but he can suggest putting the big bestringed lad down and admitting that you can’t fight gravity singlehanded.”

Kravitz could, in fact, fight gravity single handed, and he could definitely win.

He pushed off and got his other foot under him, then powered up out of the lunge. He can only choose to believe it looks incredibly impressive and not sweaty and difficult.

“My friend Magnus cannot hear about this. If he knows people can do weighted lunges with musical doohickies he’s going to start putting on even more themed classes.”

Kravitz tried not to look too winded as he got his balance. Taako didn’t need to know that his life had flashed before his eyes for a moment there.

He pulled the sign out of his music satchel as the perfect distraction.

How are you?

A soft laugh from the speakers. “Cha’boy’s here, but better now that you are too.”

Kravitz looked away from the security camera, desperate not to make eye contact in that moment and reveal how much hearing that meant. It would be embarrassing to admit that he had been looking forward to this through every shitty lesson, every late night report, and all of the things that kept him away from being here. The speaker in the cold tiled wall was the best human connection he’d had lately.

Kravitz pulled out the next sign.

What do you like to do?

“Looks like you’ll have to find out next time.”

The screech of the tube approaching covered Kravitz’s disappointed “oh.”

–

Taako had a sister called Lup. Taako had a cat called Garyl. Taako loved peanut butter and was also horribly allergic to it. Taako was suspicious of one of the fish at the aquarium. Taako did gymnastics at school. Taako had kept up the flexibility and he really wanted Kravitz to know that.

Little facts, grabbed in snatches. Brick by brick he built Taako in his head and brick by brick he liked the man on the other side of the speaker more and more. Kravitz started arriving earlier, rushing from practice to the station just to make sure he got slightly more time to talk to Taako. He nodded, shook his head, thumbs up-d and thumbs down-d his way through their conversations. Giving away pieces of himself too, he hoped Taako liked them, liked the bits of Kravitz he was piecing together. It wasn’t enough though, so he’d written the sign which had sat in his bag the last three times he was there. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to use it, he just wasn’t sure if it was okay. Maybe Taako chatted to everyone who came through the station like this? It probably helped to move his shift along.

“You play any other instruments, Krav?” Taako asked as Kravitz’s foot hit the platform.

Kravitz nodded.

“Okay, let cha’boy guess.”

There was a long silence, long enough that Kravitz started to worry that the speakers had stopped working.

“Piano. You give off piano vibes.”

Kravitz wondered what piano vibes constituted, but nodded, and mimed a quick key tinkle for effect.

“Cool. It was that or guitar.”

Kravitz nodded again. Strummed on nothing.

“Flute?”

Kravitz switched to an invisible but technically perfect rendition of Acapulco Bay.

“Are you being funded by big music? They’ve got the radio stations in their pocket, I’ve heard, have they got to you too?”

Kravitz wished he was being funded by anything extra. He mimed empty pockets instead.

“Fine, Taako’ll trust you’re not working on the musical agenda.”

Kravitz cracked his fingers, twiddled his invisible but thoroughly evil moustache, and smiled.

“Noooo, you’ve foiled me! I’m going to get crocheted. Minimed? What’re the longbois?”

Kravitz snorted, and tried desperately to think of a way to mime a semibreve that didn’t involve the crotchal region.

Saved by the train.

It didn’t feel much like a rescue.

–

Tonight was supposed to be the night. He had even given himself a pep talk in the mirror that morning. He was going to hold up his sign. Taako was going to say yes. They were going to have a great night and it wouldn’t be awkward even if Taako said no. Not that he had thought about Taako saying no because Sloane said he needed to be more positive. But if Taako did say no it would be fine because Kravitz had no idea what he looked like and he could just walk to the other tube station that was 20 minutes away from the hall instead of 5. No problem.

Fate had different ideas.

A guy on a bike nearly hit him as he crossed the road, the path he usually cut through the park on was closed, and then he ended up having to double back to the point where he was anxiously glancing at his watch as he arrived at the station. He heard the telltale screech half way down the stairs, rushed the rest, (well as fast as having a cello strapped to his back would allow) and dived towards his usual spot to board his usual carriage. The doors were closing. They couldn’t close because he wasn’t on yet. Kravitz waved at Taako as he ran for the doors. He was going to make it. He was just a pace away. His foot was in the carriage. He was. Stuck in the doors.

This was it. This was how he went… oh. The doors opened again harmlessly.

“Would the customer who just became trapped in the doors please return to the platform.”

Oh no. Kravitz retreated, face burning with shame. He’d upset Taako. He’d broken tube rules. What if he got banned forever?

“It is protocol that after incidents such as these when staff have cause to believe you may have suffered harm that you report to the private doors through the staff door on the station platform for a medical inspection.”

This was worse than the time he got called to the head teachers’ office in school. This was worse than his supervisor asking to see a draft of his thesis. This was worse than his Mum just texting ‘call me’ without any further explanation.

He watched the doors shut again, no idiot to bounce off this time, and the carriages wheel away to freedom. Kravitz bade it farewell, just in case Taako wasn’t willing to forgive him and this was his last taste of efficient public transport.

He trudged towards the staff door, looked around to make sure he hadn’t misconstrued the instructions, and then knocked twice. “Hello? Taako?”

There was a soft beep and the door swung open. “And behind door number one… it’s the ballinest chef in all of Faerûn! Hey Krav.” Said the elf behind the door.

Kravitz’s mouth hung open, maybe he did need medical attention.

If this was Taako why didn’t they put him outside. Surely everyone would want to come and use this tube station if he was here. It’d be great for business… maybe that’s why they’d had to put him behind the wall. Maybe he got too much attention? He was taller than Kravitz, blonde with dark uneven roots, had ears full of jangling jewellery, wore so many rings on his hands that Kravitz wondered what holding them would feel like, his shirt was tucked neatly into his trousers emphasising his soft tummy, broad thighs, and narrow shoulders. There was no way the boots were regulation.

“Hi.” Kravitz said weakly, casting his net for more words. “I’m Kravitz, you said to…” He stopped. This was bad. Taako knew he was Kravitz. He was making a bad impression. “You look…” Wait, was that creepy? “I like your badge.” Kravitz pointed to the name tag on Taako’s chest. There. That was fine. A compliment.

“Yeah?” Taako looked sympathetic. Perhaps Kravitz had made such a fool out himself that Taako wouldn’t ban him from the tube at least?

It’d be a shame if Kravitz could never see him again.

“The colours are nice.” Kravitz said lamely.

“Did you actually get a concussion? I thought the doors were supposed to spring back as soon as they felt contact? Taako can actually report it if something has gone wrong.” Taako’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked harder at Kravitz, trying to spot any damage.

“No!” Kravitz said quickly. “Sorry. I got distracted.”

Taako relaxed instantly. “Taako’ll do that.” He grinned and there was a gap between his front teeth. It suited him perfectly. “So, I believe I need to check you over.” Taako leaned languidly against the door frame all tension gone.

“I’m fine honestly, I don’t want to keep you from work.”

“What? Oh, yeah, Taako’s shift is done. Cha’boy finished 10 minutes ago.”

“But you’re always here at this time.”

“So are you, handsome.”

“I’m getting the tube.”

“Yeah, which means you’re here.”

“So you’re here.” Kravitz said slowly. “Because I’m here?”

“Maybe.” Taako shrugged as if he casually confessed his attraction to people all the time, as if he hadn’t just admitted he was staying late just to see Kravitz.

“You like me!” Kravitz said, triumphant.

“You can’t prove anything.” Taako laughed and Kravitz would want to bottle it if he wasn’t too busy scrambling through his satchel.

“Hang on, wait a minute.”

He finds it, pressed between two of the other signs, steps back, and holds it up triumphantly.

Can I take you to dinner?

Taako grinned wolfishly. “We’ll get dinner, handsome, but you should definitely come back to Taako’s place for it. Cha’boy’s not joking about being a great chef, and I still have to check you over. You know Taako’s a professional, very thorough.”

Kravitz felt the heat of anticipation curling in his lower belly and nods. “Of course, I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

[vampirebloodie]

Jealous jealous jealous boy | Mark Hoffman x Reader (Part 2)

Summary: Where you were Mark's ex-wife and even after so long he was still jealous of you, especially with Strahm.

Warning: NSFW Smut 18+, rough sex, creampie, degradation kink, gun play, "toxic" Mark, little CNC

You had been living with Lindsay and Peter for three weeks, unfortunately you hadn't gotten the job, so you were doing all the household chores to reward them both. You were heating the coffee when you felt Peter's arms around you, he placed a quick kiss on your cheek and then sat down at the table with Lindsay.

“Good morning beautiful women, you woke up early today.”

He took the cup and held it out to you as you filled Perez's cup. You filled his and sat at the table, starting to eat some toast with butter.

“We need to go to the New Jersey police station today, did you forget? We were called into the Jigsaw case.”

Lindsay replied and you choked on your coffee, feeling their eyes on you and Peter's hands patting your back.

“Jigsaw?”

You stared at them and Lindsay sighed.

"Yes. Don’t worry, you can stay here in the meantime, i know you don’t want to see Mark anytime soon.”

She said worriedly.

“Or you can come with us, we will have to rent an apartment near there, it will only be for two weeks.”

Peter suggested and you thought for a few moments. Maybe going back to New Jersey wouldn't be such a bad thing, you were also part of the police, but you hadn't been called like the agents and you knew very well why that was, Hoffman had a little influence there and obviously didn't want you close to these cases.

“Okay...i can go, i ll pack some things.”

You finished drinking your coffee and went to your room to pack a small suitcase, Peter followed you.

“Don’t feel pressured. If you don’t want to go, that’s okay.”

He comforted you by placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I can’t run away from Hoffman forever.”

You hadn't officially signed the divorce papers and constantly ignored Hoffman's calls, you thought it was a miracle that he hadn't tracked you down and gone after you.

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

It was already past noon, you had just arrived in the city and had left your things in the new apartment, you got down and walked to the police station which was close by. You entered and soon came face to face with the boss.

“Special agents and.... Ms. Hoffman?”

He looked at you in surprise, you had practically disappeared from the city for more than 14 days.

“I no longer use that surname. Hello again... well, i haven't been called for this case, so i ll wait at reception.”

You spoke and turned, heading to the customer service room, sitting in one of the chairs and taking out your cell phone to see the new news about the case, new bodies had been found and no other suspects besides Jigsaw. They still didn't realize that Hoffman was the apprentice, your mouth suddenly went dry and you went to the water fountain to drink some water. Even after drinking the water you still felt a little unwell and dizziness hit you. You soon recovered and took a deep breath, you couldn't keep it all to yourself anymore, you needed to report Hoffman.

You walked quickly to one of the rooms where one of the police chiefs was, opening the door panting, scaring the man.

“Ms Y/n Hoffman? ? Why are you here?"

“Don’t call me like that. Please, i need to make a report! I know who Jigsaw’s apprentice is!!”

You practically screamed and leaned on the table. The man's eyes widened.

"What? Really"

“Please, you have to believe me, the apprentice is…”

“Y/n?”

It was Mark's voice, you made a desperate face and refused to turn around, he had arrived at the worst time and had probably heard what you said.

“Detective Hoffman, we have an important update, Y/n said she knows who Jigsaw’s apprentice is.”

The boss explained and you closed your eyes tightly, then looked at Hoffman who was looking at you with a suspicious look.

"Oh really? Thats really good, and who would that apprentice be, Y/n?”

He crossed his arms and you bit your lip, you had some evidence against him that was in your apartment, just your word probably couldn't count as proof.

“I… you’ll find out soon enough.”

You walked quickly feeling Mark's eyes burning into your back, you needed to find Lindsay and Peter, you asked the receptionist who just told you that they had been called to a crime scene quickly and couldn't tell you beforehand. You would have to solve your problem yourself before Hoffman could solve it. You grabbed your things and left the police station as quickly as possible, going to the apartment where your things were.

You entered the property and ran to your suitcase, opening it and taking out some photos and DNA samples that you had secretly collected from Hoffman through his saliva and hair. You put the envelope inside your coat pocket and turned to leave again, only to find Hoffman looking at you with a serious look, you wondered how he got in since you locked the door.

“Did you think i would let you walk around freely knowing about my second job? I thought you were smarter, love, I've been watching you for a while. I already knew you had evidence against me.”

He showed you a copy of the keys, showing that he had been snooping into your life since you left, he knew you were with Strahm and Lindsay, he knew the three of you were going to New Jersey, he knew you were going to report him. Then, your eyes watered and you moved away as he got closer and closer to you, until he cornered you against the wall, you held the evidence tightly in your coat pocket.

“No one is going to save you, sweetheart. I told them to take Strahm and Perez to another place, do you thought i work alone? You don’t know how jealous i was seeing you with that shitty agent, drinking coffee with him, going to cinema... he could never be better than me, ever.”

“When i left... Was that all theater?” “No... i really suffered a little about it, but i knew you and your pussy would come back to me.”

He held your face, caressing your cheek, you had nowhere to run, he would probably kill you in one of those sick traps.

“Please don’t hurt me.”

You practically begged, he just smiled.

“Nah this will not hurt, you’ll like it, i like it when you beg.”

You felt the barrel of his gun touch your stomach and your blood ran cold, the gun passed through your stomach until it stopped on your chin.

"Please..."

His hands grabbed your hair and you moaned.

"It is not enough..."

You knew what he wanted, his hand let go of your hair and you lowered yourself onto all fours under his feet, as a kind of worship.

"Please sir..."

“Are you going to be a good girl or am i going to have to blow your head off?”

You quickly agreed and he pulled you up by your shirt, you felt his lips on your neck and closed your eyes, feeling your insides pulsate.

“Strahm can make you feel this way as easily as i can, hm? Can he make you show what a slut you are?”

“N-no.”

You moaned as he turned you against the wall, feeling his member rub against your ass. Mark picked you up and carried you to Strahm's room, where he threw you on the bed and climbed on top of you.

“This is his room...”

You warned.

“Better yet, im going to get my cum all over this sheet so he knows who fucked you on his bed.”

He started kissing you while running his big hands over your body, his hands went to your jeans, removing them immediately leaving you in your panties, his hands ripped open your button-down shirt exposing your boobs.

“Still being a naughty girl who doesn’t wear a bra, hm?”

He asked pinching one of your nipples and you moaned in response. He was pleased with that, you heard the zipper of his pants undoing and his cock jumping out of his underwear, hard, big and thick, none were comparable enough. Your mouth watered.

His hands opened your legs and he removed your panties, placing the item in his pocket. His long, thick fingers passed through your already wet pussy and pressed your clitoris, starting to make circular movements, you bit your lip, holding back your moan, his hands grabbed your neck, making you startle.

“Don’t hide it. Don’t keep it.”

He positioned his member at your entrance and thrust himself inside at once, you screamed, feeling your pussy being widened by his cock, it had been a while since you had sex with someone.

“I missed my little slut’s tight pussy so much.”

He said, throwing his head back, he was holding your neck as an impulse to make quick and rough movements inside you, the bed was banging against the wall and Mark's hips were against you, the scandalous sound of your moans joined with these noises along with his low sighs and moans.

"Please..."

You asked feeling your eyes water.

“Please, hm? You will cum only when i want.”

He pulled out of you and turned you around on the bed, leaving you exposed.

“So perfect, you are mine.”

He praised before thrusting himself inside you again, you moaned loudly against the pillow, his hands alternated between squeezing your waist and slapping your ass. You couldn't hold it in any longer.

“Mark!!!”

You called his name, this gave him more motivation to increase the pace inside you.

“Cum for me, cunt”

He spoke, pulling your hair and you felt spasms throughout your body as you came on his cock, he gave a few more thrusts before melting inside you, muttering some swear words, you moaned softly, feeling the hot liquid fill you, he came out of you and you fell onto the bed, looking up you saw him with the papers in his hand.

“You won’t need this anymore, darling.”

He said, tearing those papers into little pieces, he was right, you certainly wouldn't report him anymore. Mark lay down on the bed behind you and grabbed your waist, placing light kisses on your shoulder.

"I love you."

“I love you too babe. Don't leave me again never.”

[mysteriouslyholytaco]

Cruise Ship Cuckold Training

 AuthorDr.Bone 

 Publish dateApr 4, 2007 

 Article read time13 min read

CRUISE SHIP CUCKOLD TRAINING By Dr. Bone

Hello,

When you book a cruise be careful with who you book it with, a lesson my wife and myself found out the hard way, the very hard way.

We were looking for a last minute vacation deal online. "Look at the prices on this one. And its all inclusive also." she said. We later found out that this cruise had been listed on one of those cheap travel sites by mistake and only for a few moments, just long enough for us to book it.

The big day came and we got on the boat, there were a lot of couples our age on board, mid-thirties to early forties. Two things puzzled me though. One was the way that the mostly black crew was eyeing us, and there seemed to be a lot of single black men on board. When I brought this up to my wife she shrugged it off saying the men were probably taking advantage of the low fares. As for the crew she said it was probably all in my mind. A few hours later she would change her opinion, in a big way

I was trying to take a nap while my wife checked on the activities on board, she came back into the cabin pale clutching a flyer from the activities director. "We have to get off this boat now! There has been a big mistake!? I told her to calm down and tell me what was going on. Numb she handed me the pamphlet, the title was "Cuckold Cruises' and showed a white lady deeply kissing a black man while a 'shocked' husband looked on in the background, the sub heading was ?A boat for the black man loving white women, and for the husbands who love them.?

I could see why my wife was upset but there was nothing we could do, the boat was out at sea now. I told her we would have to make the best of it and be careful as this was a cruise to nowhere where we stood on the ship.

She looked at me suspiciously bring up the time that I had suggested she try a black man, but I reminded her that she had picked this cruise not I.

That night we got the first of many surprises, seating for diner had been arranged but not for us together. ?Ship's rules!? the purser told my wife, who wanted to leave and get room service but I told her we paid good money for this cruise and we would have dinner and she should not worry about it.

I sat at a table with all the other husbands while my wife sat next to a young black man. The other husbands talked excitedly on what their wives were going to do. Some actually hoped their wives would get pregnant or try anal for the first time. One of them asked me what I hoped would happen, I tried to explain that we had booked the cruise by mistake and that we were not into this scene. ?That's not how it looks from here!? one of the husbands said I looked over to see my wife, who had been kind of stiff to the whole seating arrangement now seemed to really be getting into it. She was chatting away with a man and laughing. I felt the first pangs of jealousy and was also aroused. Could my wife really be that type of woman? The type to take gratification from another man at my expense and humiliation?

After dinner I asked her how it went. She told me she was trying to make the best of a bad situation, then she dropped the bomb and said according to the cruise director thet man she was seated with was to be her ?partner? for all shipboard activities.

We went to the ship's nightclub and after the first dance I was forced to sit on the side as she danced with her partner. I was alarmed when she tried to really shake it up on the dance floor as her partner watched her big tits bounce up and down, again I felt my wood starting to rise, but it was nothing, nothing compared to what I felt when a slow sexy number came up and I watched her rub up against him.

That night when we got back to the room I was a little disturbed by my wife's behavior and my own. I was getting turned on by her flirting with the guy, something she noticed right away.

In the room she started to jerk me off while questioning me about whether or not it turned me on to see her with other men. "You liked seeing me dancing on the floor grinding against that big black guy didn't you honey? I brushed up against him on the dance floor and I will tell you this. It is no myth about them having huge cocks." she said teasingly as my cock literally sprayed all over her. I threw her on the bed and we fucked all night, turned on by the slutty way she talked.

The next day we agreed to maybe experiment a bit, little did I know how far it would go.

We sat on the deck in lounge chairs taking in some sun when her "partner" showed up and sat down next to us. He smiled at us, or more specifically her, and what was there not to smile about? Her sitting there on the lounge chair in her bikini with her huge all natural tits. Her stomach was tight from the gym and a personal trainer. He took out some sun tan lotion and asked if he could put some on her. She looked at me to disapprove and then turned onto her stomach and said ?Why not??

He unhooked her bikini top and rubbed the lotion into her back with expert hands. He messaged it into her shouldered and worked his way down to the small of her back, then she rolled over letting her top fall to the floor. He put some more lotion on his hands and rubbed it onto her shoulders as she stared at his huge bulge. He then put his hands onto her tits and rubbed the lotion onto her breasts, her nipples went rock hard under his kneading and rubbing. My own cock wanted to explode. My wife let off a few gasps and moans to tease me.

He worked his way down to her stomach while across the way a white lady blew a black guy as her husband watched approvingly, snapping off photos, she had to be in her late 50's but was sucking on his cock like a porn star. Meanwhile the guy with my wife worked away at her thighs letting his thumb brush against her pussy by "accident", as I noticed the growing wet spot in her bikini.

He went into a bag on the back of his chair and took out a bottle of clear baby oil. Then he reached into his swim trunks saying that they were chaffing him a bit and asked my wife if she could she put some oil on his cock, and then he pulled it out. I could have caught on fire and she would not have noticed. I had seen black cocks in films and they were big, but this? was a different story altogether, some of the veins on it were as big as my pinky.

She gave me a long teasing look which said to me that even if I objected she was going to do this anyway. She squirted the oil into the palms of her hands, the bottle making a farting sound as she did so. Then topless she reached across space and as I watched her hand slowly encircled his cock around the middle of his shaft, she gave the cock several long pulls so as to spread the oil all over his shaft, then she started to stroke his cock as I watched with my own unattended hard on.

?Shit! It is so fucking big and solid.? she said slapping the man's cock into her palm. She then playfully hit it against her tits making them shake and jiggle. I watched as her hand the hand with our wedding ring on it, milked this giant cock.

She robotically pumped his cock until he said ?Oh yeah! I'm going to cum!? and shot his load onto her tits and tight belly as other cuckold husbands, their wives and their black lovers looked on.

Later that afternoon my wife gave me a pair of her panties and let me jerk off into them while she verbally abused me. ?You know what? A few days ago I would have given you some relief but now I am saving my pussy for its first big black dick. And I know you want to see that. Right? You want to see me suck on a black cock. Right? You want to see me put it in me. Right??

I shot my load into her panties and she took them and put them in a draw saying that I would need them later.

We went to see the cruise director, a short haired Spanish woman who snickered at me and giggled with my wife as she went over the activities on board the ship.

That afternoon my wife ate lunch with her partner while the rest of the husbands ate at separate tables I could feel my cock growing hard at the humiliation and frustration of watching her slow seduction. He made a point of feeling her tits up as she fed him.

The activities director came over to my wife and told her she could get a special message from the ship's masseuse. She kissed her black boyfriend goodbye and told me to come along with her.

When we came in to the room there were three huge black men who were totally naked, one of them told me to help my wife off with her clothes. ?You heard the man!? my wife said grinning as I undid her blouse.

Soon she was naked in front of these men as the cruise director smirked at me. ?Lay down on your stomach on the table it is time for your message.? one of them said. My wife did as she was told and the men applied oil to their hands. They began to rub and knead her back and shoulders as she let out a contented sigh. One of them did her legs and worked his way up, his black fingers digging into her buttocks.

They rolled her over oiling and kneading her tits with their hands, their large cocks brushing up against her body as they worked on her shoulders and thighs. ?You need a pussy message.? one of them said. At that point her resistance was next to nil.

I watched her face contort as he rubbed the outside of her pussy. ?You are losing her.? the short haired cruise director said grabbing my cock through my shorts. She pulled my cock out and started to jerk it off.

The man who was rubbing her pussy got between her legs and slapped her soft pubic patch with his cock and said ?Look right at your husband and say you want this in you.?

Her brown eyes seemed to fill the room as she said ?Honey I have to have it.? The man laughed as he turned and slowly pushed that massive cock into her. My wife was being violated while I watched, her pussy being stretched to its limits, and I was excited by it like I never had been before. I came, shooting my load onto the floor as the cruise director continued to play with my shaft, which within minutes got hard again.

My wife wrapped her legs around her stud. Her cries of pleasure were muffled as one of the men shoved his cock down her throat. ?Yeah now spit on it. Clear your throat that's it!? he said then he plunged it down her throat again.

The third man slid his cock between her tits and tit fucked her as she held her breasts for his cock. He pinched her nipples hard, twisting them.

The cruise director told me to put my hands behind my back or she would stop jerking me off.

Through the afternoon into the evening they used her in every position imaginable. When they were done she was a sticky gooey mess. She went in back with the cruise director to clean up.

As we walked the deck of the ship my cock got hard again thinking of the wanton animal my wife had become. Was it over yet? Not on your life.

That night a purser brought a wedding gown for my wife. I wondered what was going on. She said ?You will see. Tonight.? She said handing me my outfit. At first I thought it was a tuxedo by then I realized it was a butler's outfit.

That night we went into the main dance hall where several other men were dressed like me, with their wives dressed in wedding gowns. Then each of the women's (including my wife's) black boyfriends entered. What was going on? I wondered.

The ship's captain entered and gave a short ceremony where the brides pledge to ?humiliate, tease and torture their husband's small white cocks? and only to ?love, cherish, fuck and suck their black lover's huge cocks.? All the wives handed their husbands back their wedding rings and put on the ones their boyfriends had given them. He pronounced us all sluts, cuckolds and studs and said ?The wives may kiss their black lovers.?

The cruise director was amongst the women throwing rice at us. When we got back to the cabin a cot had been put in for me to sleep in while my wife and her lover would sleep in the bed while I waited on them hand and foot.

?Take off my clothes, now.? she told me. I slowly and obediently stripped my wife of her clothes as her lover whistled appreciatively.

?Now boy, take off mine. And don't you dare get any wrinkles on them.? he said. I carefully removed his clothes as my wife repeated his words. ?Um! The underwear too.? With the last bit of my pride going out to sea I took off his underwear and his big cock swung out.

?Get her ready for me boy.? he said as she sat on the bed with her legs spread. I could have left, I could have said no but I couldn't. I got down and licked her pussy. ?Get it nice and wet.? My wife said. ?This pussy is just for my lover. My big black lover? she taunted.

My wife told me she was ready. Then her lover said, ?Now come here boy! Take it in your hand, you heard me. Show your wife you can take care of it for her.? I could not believe what he wanted me to do. I was not gay or anything like that, but the humiliation of it al, turned me on. Hesitantly I grasped his huge cock in my hand and jerked it off as she watched.

?Oh! You are so good at that honey!? she said, ?It looks so sexy for you to be jerking off the cock of a real man. Now I have a little surprise for you, close your eyes and stop jerking him off.? I did not know what she had planned, but I knew I had to obey or she would kick me out of the room.

I heard them moving around and then my wife told me to open my eyes. She was standing in front of me, he was standing in back of her with his cock through her legs so it looked like she had grown a dick. She held his cock out with one hand and in the other hand to my horror was a digital camera, our digital camera.

?Now honey! Show me how much you love me by sucking my cock. Come on honey, you will look so sexy doing it.? she said wiggling ?her? penis. Time seemed to freeze then, slowly, as my wife looked down at me with a smirk on her face I moved my face forward and with my lips real tight I kissed the huge cock head in front of me, noting how much bigger and denser it was than mine.

?Kiss it again!? she squealed and I did so as she took a picture. Then another kiss, then she looked down at me and told me to take it in my mouth. I stretched my mouth as far as it could go and did so. It tasted musky and sweaty and I could not believe I was doing it.

She snapped photo after photo, making me lick the underside of his shaft and his balls as she laughed at me telling me that was the closest I would ever come to having a real cock. Then things went from bad to worse, the cabin door opened, unlocked from outside by a pass key and in stepped the cruise director. ?Mmmm! I see you are enjoying the honeymoon. Maybe I can help you out a bit.? she said grabbing the back of my head. The stud took the signal and started to cram his dick down my throat deeper and deeper. I started to gag which made the two women and the man laugh, but there was no mercy.

The cruise director grabbed his shaft and started to jack it off faster and faster, her coffee colored hand flew up and down across his cock shaft. Then I felt his cock start to twitch.

?No cum dodging here dear.? she said standing in back of me with her smooth thighs holding my head so I could not move. I felt his head jerk as my wife snapped off photo after photo, then his cum flooded my mouth.

?No spitting out either.? she added putting her hand over my mouth. I was forced to swallow every sticky drop as he rubbed his cock clean across my face. Then as my wife and the cruise director laughed I was made to suck and jerk him hard again so he could fuck my wife further.

?Come on little cuckold.? said the cruise director grabbing me by my ear. She lead me though the decks of the ship to her cabin.

?Right now your wife is getting the shit fucked out her by her lover, listen.? she dialed a number on her phone and put it on speaker so I could hear my wife groaning and squealing as his oversized meat stretched her to her limits.

?I bet you are so fucking horny now, come here little white man.? she said kissing me deeply. Before I knew it she was sucking my cock like a machine, I came in her mouth in seconds.

?Hmmm! We are going to have to do better than that.? All that sexual frustration that had built up in me for the entire trip exploded to the surface. I grabbed her and tossed her onto the bed tearing off her clothes. I licked her pussy until she was ready to pass out, then I spread her legs wide and fucked the shit out of her. Before I knew it I must of came twice and was putting my cock up her asshole, lubed only by her spit as I listened to my wife getting the shit fucked out of her by some oversized black stud.

The next morning we pulled into the dock. My wife kissed her black ?husband? goodbye and we went home, where we fucked like animals from the minute we got through the door.

The experience has really changed our life style, for the better I'd like to think. She is already booking us for next year.

[streets-in-paradise]

The Real Deal - Matt Murdock x Witch!Reader

Warnings: I haven't wrote for Daredevil in a long while, so forgive me if i have mistaken details of the show.

Summary: You want to help your lawyers in their most challenging case, but the controversial nature of your skills leaves it up to question.

Tags: @chezagnes

Matt and Foggy meet you as one of their early clients and, in their perspective, you were a simple fortune teller unfortunately caught in a legal issue. Your case was so absurd that it represented easy work for them. Even in the strange times they were living in, it still made no sense. A matter of police profiling through the mass hysteria in the post Loki New York making you suspicious for carrying symbols of norse witchcraft. Runic readings weren't the only service you offered and your practices weren't culturally límited to what then started to be considered an asgardian danger. However, society was still adapting to the discovering and the clueless officers couldn't tell the difference between an asgardian sorceress and the neighborhood's witch. Your lawyers realized of that, and the instant fondness of you that at least half of the firm developed closed the deal for you to get out of trouble.

Unlike most of their clientele, you were managing to pay them in cash. Slow, but consistent payments that also worked as a way to stay in touch. Despite they were highly skeptical of your activity, they did appreciate their owned share of its product. Catholic belief wasn't an obstacle for Matt's flirting and his friend would never miss the chance to tease him for that when you were arround. That precise combination of factors made you be always welcome, but with each visit you noticed they were struggling deeper than just financtially.

They got in serious trouble attempting to legally save the neighborhood from gentrification taking down the lead of the dirty business surrounding it. Even their secretary was involved in the investigation, huge deal that made you feel quite concerned for all of them.

You were relatively new in the city, but that didn't mean you weren't inclined to help. The chain reaction would screw everyone over, except for the top rich.

You weren't an asgardian terrorist, but neither the easy to underestimate facade associated with your business. To some of your clients, the ones coming for meaningless issues or unethical things, you would ocassionally sell advice disguised of bullshit.However, you were a real witch performing unmistakeable results for causes that justified it.

Overhearing the plotting of your favorite lawyers, you found one that was worth all your efforts.

" Let me help you out with Fisk." You interrupted them instead of awaiting for Karen to take your payment. " … A full name, birth date and a personal object is all I need, for a start. "

Foggy couldn't believe what you had just proposed, taking it as absolute nonsense.

" Not in the mood for jokes, Princess Opal. We have a serious situation here, but we will call you to join the search if someone goes missing. "

You didn't let the demeaning comment bring you down, it was exactly what you expected of him.

" Believe it or not, I am a worker of justice just like you." You corrected him ríght away. " When your system fails, some people come to me hoping to rush the action of karma. Others want me to give them the hope in justice that their practicers can't provide. Do you have any idea of how many clients i get that are currently in legal battles, but don't trust the courts to give them what they need for the sake of it? How much work with justice i get demmanded? It's insane! Regardless of what you believe about it, you can't deny it says something. "

Matt was very silent, untill the tease got him snarky.

" We are working to make things better, I hope you will not resent us for winning that hope back. "

You smiled, already struggling to resist his charm. Despite he obviously couldn't see it, you could swear he noticed the effect he had in you.

" On the contrary, I admire you. I know of the kind of hard time you get when trying to do the ríght thing." You admitted, not realizing you were already toying with the tips of your hair. " When an obsessive weirdo comes asking me to magically force someone to love them, or to curse a coworker they envy, I sell them teraphy disguised with self satisfying witchy-sounding talk. Placebos, so they will get someting to come back for and not search for an unethical bastard that could either scam them worse or do the damage they want for the proper price. When worried parents bring a sick child, I do the real healing ritual for free and make up my costs doing readings or charging an asshole tax on the crazy ones. That's who I am, my concience makes me loose money, and i believe we are on the same page when it comes to business models. "

The comparison was strange, but it showed perfect understandment of their situation found in the weirdest of places.

" I was not aware there were ethics in witchcraft. "

" For you only, I'm willing to ignore my code. " You snarked back in a flirtatious tone. " Let me hex Fisk, show him something that would make him regret to mess with the neighborhood. "

Foggy was cautious of your slightly sinister expression at the end and started to think you trully believed in the power on your threat.

" Sounds like a mobster message, clearly not our style. "

" How would that work?" Karen interrupted him. " It won't kill anyone, ríght?"

Her friend stared at her in disbelief.

" You can't be serious. "

" Foggy, gods have fallen from the sky ... I say we let her give it a try. "

" Those were aliens, not gods. " Matt corrected. " I don't believe in curses, it comes with being a catholic. "

He did make you chuckle with that one.

" Well, hipocricy also comes with catholicism. "

" She got you … can't beat the allegations! " Foggy teased him ríght away. " Your fault for making us jump in defense of the beautifull savage for you to play missionary with. "

You both were left in evidence on a matter of seconds.

" Thanks, Foggy! It's the first lovely thing about me you have to say today."

He didn't intend to sound harsh, but he couldn't possibly understand you.

" Try to see things from my perspective: i feel like i'm being mocked. "

" If it eases your concience, the methods are mostly a facade. I'm the real deal, it runs in the blood. " You confessed, wondering if you would regret it later. " Mom thinks i got it from my father. I don't know, I never meet him and at this point i don't think I want to. Don't waste time asking me about that."

" Can you cast the honesty curse from ' Liar, Liar'? That would be really helpfull. " Foggy mocked you once more. " We seek to expose Fisk, get him in jail. Even if we could believe you, I don't see how your offer can be any usefull. "

At least you could say you got him Interested. Weirded, maybe, but attentive.

" I can curse his business. Mysterious incidents will keep happening and he will loose money. Of course, I believe the Devil is doing his part on that, but why not giving him some help? Fisk will be easier for you to legally take down if he has too many things to attend at once. A vigilante and the curse of a real witch should be enough to do the dirty work for you. One problem, he may attempt to solve, but who is going to warn him about me? Even if they would … Do you think he would believe it?"

The next objection came from Matt, but that didn't surprise you as it should.

" Well, for a start we don't work with vigilantes."

" Too late, i think he is working with you." You snarked back. " Sounds like a good plan to me. After all, your church believes witches are the devil's consorts, ríght?"

In that simple comment he obtained all the proof he needed to believe in your gifts, realization that stayed between him and you.

[just-a-strange-boy]

ethereal

There aren't many beautiful things left in Stephen Strange's world, a vast and cold place. But at least he has you - the most beautiful person he had ever come across. He wants to make sure to prove it to you and worship you accordingly - not even letting sleep come between the two of you.

Pairing: Sinister Strange x Reader (GN)

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), somnophilia, questionable consent, unprotected sex, Sinister being...not that sinister actually

A/N: I do like dark Sinister. But you know what I enjoy more? Sinister who would do anything for you, because he is a massive simp. And so damn horny for you.

Ethereal.

If Stephen Strange could have chosen one word to describe you it was that.

There was always something so beautiful about you. Often times he found himself entirely enamored with the sight of you, wondering how someone could be so mesmerizing, so enthralling, so infatuating. Catching a glimpse of you at the right moment, the whole world seemed to stop around him.

Whether it was in the soft, warm candlelight or in the scarce daylight of this world or like now, in the bright moonlight seeping through the windows and falling upon your sleeping form beside him. He had eyes for you only, addicted to the sight of you.

You were so unique.

He had always known. Ever since you had stumbled into his life and messed with it, he had known. There was something indescribable about you, it seemed impossible to fully capture your likeness. Words couldn't do your beauty - may it be your physical form or what was deep down inside of your soul - justice. One thing he was very certain of though: no one could ever be like you.

You touched him in ways that Stephen didn't think anyone ever could.

For so long he had been convinced of his own coldness, that he was simply unlovable and repulsive, that he was doomed to stay alone forever because he couldn't love anyone fully, truly. But then you had come along and chipped away at the hard demeanor bit by bit, breaking him down and building him back up, all with your love.

You had brought warmth to his coldness, love to his hatred, liveliness to his lonesome days.

Neither of you was doomed to live a life of solitary and anguish anymore. Just like he meant to give a purpose to you, you had given him meaning again.

And the best thing was that all of you belonged to him.

Sometimes Stephen couldn't quite believe it himself, to deserve someone as perfectly imperfect and wonderful as you.

Part of him was still oddly suspicious sometimes, afraid that once you were offered the chance, you would rather flee this world and leave him behind than stay with him, even in a world falling apart, forever. But you had proven him different so many times, because you were still there. You had remained right here, with him, and sworn to stay.

After all this time, he still couldn't really believe it. That you were here. That you were with him. That you had told him that you loved him and continued to prove it to him every day.

He often lacked words to proclaim his love to you. There was no way that shallow phrases would be enough to describe what he felt for you. It was easier to show, but even the little acts of service never felt enough to him. He would do anything for you and give you all. You deserved the world, this one and any other, if not the entire multiverse.

Even though he was only able to share what he had and there wasn't much left in this world, you still stayed around.

So he supposed there was a possibility that you did know after all. That his love for you went beyond the bounds of anything he had ever known, was a stronger force than any magic he had ever used, and that he would simply do anything for you.

Sometimes his love for you was overwhelming, left him restless, like now as he sat awake in bed, watching you, his wondrous partner, in the moonlight. It sent a soft glow to your skin, almost shimmering. You simply lay there, remaining in your deep slumber, breathing softly, the thick woolen blanket having slipped aside, now barely hiding your naked form, leaving most of you uncovered and for him to admire.

He would never grow tired of the sight.

He chuckled. So typical. You always preferred to sleep on your left side, one arm tucked under your head, body turned away from Stephen, displaying your back to him.

There were little reminders of your previous love-making, red streaks where his fingers had dug into your skin, bruises and bites where his mouth had latched onto you, and seeing them in contrast to the light tone of your skin made his heart swell with affection, and admittedly obsession.

You truly were his. And he would always make sure of marking you accordingly. You simply looked so pretty wearing his marks.

As Stephen's gaze traveled along the plane of your back, the expanse of your shoulders, limbs lax with sleep, he was surprised when you stirred slightly, curling further into yourself as you shifted your legs, an utterly adorable sound and soft breath slipping past your lips, before continuing in stillness.

Smiling down at you, Stephen carefully reached out to brush a hand through your sleep-ridden hair, carding through the soft strands that had grown longer and longer in time.

There was a relaxed sigh escaping you next as he began stroking the back of your head, fingertips softly grazing the scalp down to your nape. When you still wouldn't stir, Stephen thought it safe to assume you were continuing to soundly slumber. He didn't mean to disturb. But you had this magic over him, pulling him in, and he was entirely mesmerized with you.

In his profuse admiration, he couldn't help himself but touch more, marveling how the moonlight kissed your skin in this most beautiful way, your nakedness reminding him how perfect you were in every way, at any given time. How wonderfully submissive and pliant you always tended to be, for no one but him.

Certainly you wouldn't mind if he were to proclaim his affection and love, even in sleep. You never minded being the object of his relentless desire, all of his love focused on the wonderful creature that he thought you were, downright obsessed with taking you apart as he pleased.

Of course, you would allow him to do anything. You had little shyness, nothing ever seemed to be off-limits for you, and once again Stephen thought you were simply made to be his, suiting his every need, every little filthy plan of his.

But how, he wondered, would you react to this? Would you stir? Would you wake? Would you perhaps be responsive under the impression this was all a dream? Would you be startled to find out that it was not?

You looked so beautiful there and then, too good to be true, and he wanted to savor the moment, embrace you wholly and worship you accordingly.

Stephen smiled to himself, letting his hands slide lower and folding the blanket back, grazing the tender skin of your back, fingertips trailing the traceable ridges of your spine – cervical, thoracic, lumbar, where the trapezius muscle ended and the latissimus dorsi began – and further down, slipping the blanket lower – sacrum and coccyx, gluteus maximus.

He could have studied you for hours and hours, like a doctor tending to his favorite subject, and found himself incapable of stopping his hands from wandering, gently tracing your backside.

Making sure to not startle you awake, he slid down next to you eventually, carefully pressing up to your naked form, bodies perfectly slotting together like they always did, embracing you.

You always felt so soft under his hands, your smell was simply intoxicating, not too mention the beautiful sight, and being so wrapped up in all of you did a plenty amount of things to Stephen, his cock stirring with arousal as he rubbed it against the swell of your ass.

His hands slid further along the tender skin, fingers trailing your upper thigh, moving along the protruding hip bone, down to the pelvic area, only lightly grazing your inner thighs and eventually the apex in between.

He hummed and wondered if you would be easily aroused in this state too, unaware of the attention paid to you. But you didn't stir, remaining entirely calm, even as Stephen carefully shifted the position of your leg, skilled fingers tracing your sex with the gentlest touch, hand fully wedged between your thighs as he went on exploring, finding you still lightly loosened from your earlier love-making.

Stephen always considered it convenient to have magic at hand. His intention was not to harm or hurt you, never that. While you occasional sought out this wicked pain during sex, a primal rawness, the sting of bites or fingers digging into each other's skin, now was not the time.

He didn't want to disrupt you, wanted to worship you and have you fully, revel in your beauty, your soft sleeping form.

So with magical handiwork and quick lubrication, he eased into you with gentle fingers, opening you up in a way that would usually coax out the sweetest sounds and moans from you, though not tonight. Not even the rhythm of your breathing changed, ever so softly, relaxed and at peace.

Feeling you properly loosened, he went on to slow replace his fingers with his hardness, sliding into you so easily, finding his way home, pushing deep within you. Being with you always made him feel at ease, calmed his mind, quieted his restlessness and his thoughts.

Stephen reveled in your warmth, the comforting grip you had on him, taking him in so well, and he pressed up more to your relaxed body, circling one arm around your form, holding you tightly and securely.

He would never let any harm come to you. He would protect you forever. Love you fiercely. Until the world around you would finally cease to exist and the universe would swallow you both whole – and even then, he would be content because at least he'd been able to have you.

How could he ever let go of something as wonderful as you, of your perfect imperfection, your wholesomeness? It would be so foolish. You were his whole world.

Stephen gently began to move within you, slow and careful thrusts filling you out, enjoying the warm and smooth sensation around him, welcoming him in.

He buried his face in soft strands of your hair, taking in a deep breath, basking in the intoxicating smell that always clung to you, and feeling so much like he was truly at home.

The Sanctum had been his sanctuary, his residence for so long, but ever since the incursion and the extinction of life as it was, it had never quite been an actual home to him, more so a prison.

Not until you came along and made it a place worth living at again. Because you were his home, much more than any place could ever be.

Settling on a gentle rhythm, he brought your bodies close. Stephen wished he were able to read your mind now, wished he could look into your beautiful head, wished he could sense what you felt right now and if you perhaps found yourself enjoying it as much.

Closing his eyes and resting his forehead against your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to your pale skin, he allowed himself to get lost in you and take his pleasure, rocking into you, pliant and relaxed and so wonderful.

His heartbeat quickened a little, he was breathing heavily against your back and perhaps it was that or his thrusts becoming so much more intense as he went greedy with lust, which caused you to stir in your sleep.

The relaxation seemed to ripple away from your body, muscles suddenly tensing and winding up, and Stephen could feel you clench around him, which caused a huffed moan to slip past his lips.

Then you simply hummed, inhaled deeply and pressed back into him.

The immediate response to his advances made Stephen shudder, more arousal surging through him, plunging deep into the tight hold that you had on him, until he was fully seated within you.

A small grumble, a little huff, stirring again. It was even more exciting for him to not know whether you would be waking up any second now. Perhaps you would stay in your sleeping state, thinking you were only dreaming. Perhaps you were pretending.

Whatever it was, it made Stephen want you even more and he continued thrusting into you shallowly, making use of your wonderful body, loving you whole-heartedly.

You mewled softly, whimpering even, small little sounds escaping you whenever he pushed deep inside.

A heat had fallen over the two of you, an unspoken and forbidden passion, whereas you still seemed to remain in your slumber, though not entirely unresponsive. Oh, did you know what was going on? Did you know what to await? How would you feel waking up with Stephen's cock nestled inside of you and the stickiness of your love-making between your legs?

His hands returned to travel your chest, front and center, feeling your heartbeat, which was quickening occasionally, but more so a steady sign of life that Stephen cherished so deeply.

With calloused fingertips he brushed lower, following the trail down to your navel, down to your crotch, and brushing over your arousal, finding you very responsive to the intimate attention. While there was no buck of hips, no pressing against his hand in return and you remained relatively still, you were obviously aroused.

In return, Stephen wondered how he could possibly get you to react. How he could possibly wake you up, pull you from your deep slumber with the element of surprise, if not even initial shock or embarrassment.

Then again, he was certain that you would have never refused his advances either way, enjoying to be used by him as he pleased, as it too was your hearts desire to fulfill Stephen's needs whenever you could.

He groaned into your ear, a noise of pleasure and indescribable lust, hips continuously rocking into you, sinking his cock into you and pulling back out and all over again, a steady but gentle rhythm that sent shivers down his spine, body filled with immense lust, and he wasn't all too surprised about his orgasm nearing, buried in your tight heat, pressed so close to you, his one and only.

Maybe it were his noises, the careful movements, the proximity, the intrusion or simply that you were wearing off sleep for another reason that made you stir beside him.

A silent gasp for air, the initial urge to pull away, before shuffling back to get comfortable in his embrace, realizing what was happening, but too heavily in this dream-like state that you wouldn't refuse him altogether.

"Stephen?", you muttered softly, your hand searching to reach for the one that had found its way to the apex of your thighs, carefully trying to bring pleasure to you alongside his thrusts. You placed yours above his.

"Yeah, my love", he whispered back, breath brushing over the delicate skin of your nape, "My darling, I just had to have you."

While others would have perhaps reacted in fear or immediate flight, you still didn't refuse any of his advances, pressing back into him in means to feel him deeper, to take him all in. There was a small moan escaping you, all too pleased with what he was offering, a part of you secretly enjoying he found you so hard to resist, flattered by his relentless desire and adoration.

"You're insatiable", you hummed drowsily, sleepy, your nimble fingers on Stephen's hand between your legs, drawing lines along the familiar scarred tissue as he was still keen bringing pleasure to you.

"You're all too beautiful, my love, and hard to resist. My sleeping beauty, my everything", Stephen praised you softly, feeling his orgasm approaching, especially now that you were soft and pliant and so very responsive. He didn't care about corrupting you, didn't care about the debauchery and potentially using you to his own pleasure.

It was all too late anyways, you already were a beautifully deranged pair, but of course he would never find the intention to do harm to you.

It was all worship.

To his surprise, he wasn't the first one to come.

There was something undeniably wonderful and fulfilling about you going rigid, a shudder going through you all of the sudden, breath hitching, an unexpected noise of pleasure escaping your throat, like you hadn't quite awaited to be brought all the way to the edge. You weren't as vocal as normally, not as passionate, weren't falling apart under Stephen's hands like you usually did – but it was still a beautiful thing to witness while you came.

So beautiful and admirable that Stephen couldn't help but fill you right up with his come in response, groaning softly as his balls tightened and pleasure surged through his body, rocking further into you, holding you in his tight embrace as he emptied himself within you.

He never wished for it to be otherwise, always wanted it to be just the two of you, forever and ever, for as long as your universe lasted.

"Sleeping beauty, huh?", you muttered after a while, urging Stephen to tighten his hold around your middle, before pulling the blanket back up over your forms, "Couldn't have waited until the morning to wake me up for sex?"

Stephen chuckled lowly, planting a kiss on your shoulder. "I could have, but then you and I would have missed out on this experience. I daresay it was worth it. You know me, my love", he responded quietly, remaining seated deep inside you, unfazed by the slickness and sticky mess between your bodies.

"Yeah, I know you all too well", you replied with a sleepy mumble, "And love you all the same."

[quitealotofsodapop]

TMKATI AU Wukong accidently spawning pig ears every now and then. Only seems to happen when around Pigsy for extended periods of time or when he's looking for dad flavored validation. Pigsy at first thinks he's being mocked and complains to his husband. Tang subtly asks Wukong about the ears in private just to find out Wu had NO IDEA he was doing it! Pigsy is crying. Years later, after Wu finally found out it was happening and actively tries not to bc thats embarrassing, he texts Pigsy an unsteady photo of little MK messing with his hair in a mirror oblivious to being watched, trying to shape a second ear with gel he found. Child is frustrated. Caption: "What the baby doin???"

Another photo of MK noticing his audience and lighting up. Caption: "Hold on, he's asking for help"

Last photo, half an hour later. Both Wukong and MK are in the photo. MK in his dad's lap with Wu's head on top of his, both beaming at the camera. Both sporting fuzzy "pig ears." Wukong's are the manifested ears from before, MK's are his natural bang and a second ear sculpted with hair and gel. Caption: "He didn't understand why he was the only one to 'inhawit' anything from Dadsy and why he was missing an 'ear', so we fixed it lol :P"

Pigsy is INCONSOLABLE

omg, Wukong's limited shapeshifting abilities manifesting when he's in an emotional state/mood is so based.

I feel like shapeshifting is *not* uncommon among demons, many use it to appear "more human" and fit in, or to hide blemishes or injury, or even just to fit inside buildings. But the side of it thats effected by the user's emotions is not 100% well known. It's like only seeing experts in sports or games, you have a hard time telling whats "Hard" or a "Beginner" move.

I'm imagining Pigsy and "Wu" cleaning up after a very busy and stressful day (first time Wu has ever handled a rush hour), and they're just chilling when a convo like this occurs;

Pigsy (wiping down the kitchen): "You didn't screw up." Wu, sweeping: "Huh?" Pigsy: "For someone who hasn't worked in the service industry for a long time, you did really good today. I'm proud of you." Wu, quietly smiling: "Thanks..." Wu: (*suddenly shapeshifts a pair of pig's ears*) Pigsy, confused: "Tf?? Was that intentional? Whatever, he's weird enough already." ₍ •̀ ⚇•́₎

Later he mentions it to Tang, a little offended thinking Wu could have been mocking him, only for the scholar to point something out;

Tang: "Wait. You said he spawned pig ears when you told him you were proud of him?" Pigsy: "Yeah! He didn't even comment on it or nothin'! He just finished cleaning, still with the ears on!" Tang, thinking: "Well it's said that demons who use shapeshifting a lot can glitch out when they feel strong emotions." Pigsy (rarely uses shapeshifting): "Huh?" Tang: "Yeah. You telling Wu that you were proud of him probably meant a lot to him, and his magic responded by trying to mimic you." Pigsy: "Why??" Tang, shrugging: "I dunno. The article I read said it most often occurs in interspecies adoption since kids want to *be* like their parents and- Piggy are you crying?!" Pigsy: (*emotional at the realisation that Wu likely sees him as a father figure and/or role model*) "No." (*Lie*)

Macaque witnesses Wukong do this one day and just snickers. Him and Nezha are just quietly betting on how long it'll take for Wukong to even notice that his normal monkey ears now have a permanent "flop" to them, like a pig's ear.

At least until Nezha looks at himself in a mirror and notices that his regular tiny red face markings have spread into a suspiciously familiar... heart-shape. He clams up about any emotional shapeshifting after that.

I am just adoring the phone scenario with MK thinking his hair bang was him inheriting Pigsy's ears, it's so cute! X3

And the baby isn't shy about shapeshifting either. Pigsy and Wukong were super-confused when they went into the resturant one day and saw a little brown piglet standing there - only to both scream with amazement/pride when they realised that MK had manifested his first ever *full* transformation.

On the flip-side Macaque has been accidentally spawning fox ears and extra tails for centuries since his biggest parental figure was Jiuweihuli - who like her title indicates, is a nine tailed fox. He mostly has it under control, but the extras tend to "pop out" when he's being very catty or mischievious.

The vixen warns Macaque about flagrantly shapeshifting or "You'll get stuck like that" as any mother does like to a kid pulling a silly face.

When MK is born with three tails (like his kaiju form), Jiuweihuli smugly declares herself correct - after sobbing with joy after meeting her adoptive grandbaby.

[birinboom]

Kirishima Comes Home To Reader Drunk Off His Ass

Kirishima Eijirou x GN Reader

Established relationships, alcohol consumption, pet names (Reader calls Kiri ‘honey’, Kiri calls Reader ‘babe’), fluff, spice 💌 832 words

A/N: This drabble actually belongs to a Kiri x OC fic I’m working on. Not sure if I’ll ever manage to finish it enough to even post the first chapter so I rewrote this part to fit a GN Reader. If I left in any fem pronouns please let me know!

You were jerked out of your sleep when the front door slammed, then someone shushed it loudly.

Groaning at the rude awakening, you rolled over to check the time. Eijirou was finally home from his agency’s New Year’s celebration, and it sounded like he was drunk off his ass. Turning on the bedside lamp, you got up with a heavy sigh; when he got this drunk he usually needed help getting into bed. Thankfully you only had to deal with his drunk, stubborn ass once or twice a year.

You found him sitting on the floor by the entryway, trying - and failing - at pulling his shoes off. 

“Hey,” you mumbled, rubbing your face. 

Eijirou looked up at you with a bright, toothy smile. “Hiya!”

Crouching next to him, you pointed at his shoes. “Y’know it might work better if you untied them first.”

“Oh.”

“Do you need help?”

“Naw, I got this!”

He finally managed to get his shoes off and got to his feet, swaying. You eyed him suspiciously. “How much did you drink?”

“Jus’ a lil’ bit. About… thiiiis much!” he giggled, holding his thumb and index finger up about two millimeters apart.

You sighed again, looping an arm around his back. “You’re such a pain when you’re drunk.”

“Am not! At least I don’t get angerey, like Ba-*hic*-hakugou.”

“Mhm. Let’s get you to bed, honey.”

He shushed you. “We gotta be quiet, my partner’s prob’ly asleep.”

You couldn’t help but smile. This was the first time he had been drunk enough to not recognize you. “Is that so?”

“Yeah! They need their sleep, they work wa-hay too hard.” He let out another giggle. “They’re super-super-duper cute when they sleep. Have you ever met them?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Well, you should!”

When the two of you made it to the bedroom, Eijirou flopped down on the bed, then pointed at the oversized Red Riot shirt you were wearing. “Hey, that’s me!! I didn’t realize you were a fan!”

You had trouble hiding your smirk. “One might even say I’m your biggest fan.” 

“Oh, cool! It’s nice to meet ya.”

“Yeah, likewise.” You reached for his belt buckle but he pushed your hands away.

“Whoa, what are you doing?!”

“C’mon, Ei, I wanna go back to sleep. You’re gonna get too warm if you keep your jeans on.” 

You reached out again, but this time he grabbed onto your wrists, keeping them away from him. “I don’t want--”

“Ei, stop. That’s not what I’m trying to--”

“No! I’m sure you’re a very, v-very nice person, but I really love my partner!”

“Ei, I AM your partner.”

He blinked up at you for a moment, then his face split into a brilliant grin. “Oh hey, babe! When did you get here?”

 You had to fight not to laugh at his change of mood. If you did, he’d never agree to go to sleep. 

“I’ve been here all night,” you said.

“Really? D’you know who runs this place? ‘Cos the service here is terrible. One of the staaffff won’t stop hitting on me even though I keep saying no.”

You pulled your hands out of his grip and reached for his belt again. “How awful. Let’s get you to bed.”

“I’d love to, babe, but I think I’m a teensy bit too drunk for that.”

You finally managed to pull his pants off. Straddling him, you set to work on the buttons of his dress shirt. He sat up and kissed you sloppily, one hand at the back of your head, the other kneading your behind. The rank taste of old alcohol filled your mouth. 

“I thought you were too drunk for that,” you coughed when he finally let you breathe.

“Well… I can give it a try since you keep in-- insssh-- inshisishting.”

You pushed the dress shirt over his shoulders, leaving him in a white t-shirt. “I’d rather not. Just go to sleep already.”

“Only if you join me!” Wrapping strong arms around you, he let himself fall backwards with yet another giggle. He started pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses against your neck then abruptly stopped.

“Ei?” 

You were met with a soft snore. Sighing once more, you shuffled around in his tight grip to turn off the lights and pull the covers over the two of you. He really was the worst, most endearing drunk.    

 When you got up the next morning, Eijirou was still fast asleep. As soon as you left the bed, he reached out for you. When he couldn’t find you, he instead grabbed your pillow, burrowing his face into it. You heard him mumbling something about a teapot battle. 

Checking up on him an hour later, a bottle of water and painkillers in hand, you found him with your pillow thrown over his face. He shifted the pillow a smidge, glancing up at you with blurry, red-rimmed eyes.

“Could you tell the sun to shut up?” he wheezed, voice gravelly. “‘S too loud for me.”

[chaiandtakkar]

The Case of Ordered Disruption

Arnav Swami was a man of discipline.

A man of order.

A man who firmly believed that leisure was an overrated concept - one peddled by those who failed to appreciate the sanctity of perfectly symmetrical restaurant table arrangements.

He did not engage in frivolities like sports, dance, or (he shuddered) antakshari on road trips. Not because his stamina, agility, or voice was questionable (he would duel anyone who dared suggest such blasphemy), but because he simply had better things to do.

Like ensuring his aloo paratha-to-butter ratio was mathematically flawless.

That is… until she happened.

One fateful afternoon, Khushiji stormed into his dhaba like an action hero, except instead of sunglasses and a slow-motion entry, she was clutching a prehistoric transistor radio in one hand, its six-foot antenna extended so far it nearly took down his newly serviced ceiling fan.

“Swami Ji, LISTEN to this!” she declared, swinging it dangerously close to Bankelal Ji’s head.

Arnav, who had been peacefully ensuring his jalebis were soaking at the optimal syrup saturation level, sighed. “Khushiji, if this is another episode of Shrimaan Shrimati..”

“It’s cricket!” she announced, eyes sparkling with the kind of enthusiasm when she spotted a huge discount on Lifebouy soaps for her guest rooms. “They’re building a new team for the  Ganga Warriors League! And guess what?” 

“You, my dear Swami Ji, are going to the trial.”

Arnav froze. His soul momentarily left his body. 

Cricket? Him? That was about as likely as a dosa rolling itself into a perfect cylinder on the first try.

“Khushiji…” He carefully removed his reading glasses (which, to be clear, had no number but were purely for intimidation purposes).

(Also author’s nod to @Hand-picked-star’s Crimson Shade, Chapter 35.)

 “There are two things I do not do. One: I do not eat at competitor’s dhabas. And two: I do not play sports.”

Khushi gasped, clutching her transistor like it had just been personally insulted. "Swami Ji, that’s exactly what all legends say before they become legends. Haven’t you seen Lagaan?"

Arnav rolled his eyes. "Wasn't that about taxes and colonial oppression?"

Khushi waved him off. "Details. The point is…you have potential."

Arnav folded his arms. "The only thing I have is common sense, which is why I’m going to say this very slowly. I. Do. Not. Play. Cricket."

Khushi’s eyes narrowed.

A slow, mischievous smile curled on her lips.

Dangerous.

"Oh?" she mused, tapping her chin. "I see… So, you're scared."

Arnav’s jaw twitched. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, it makes sense," she continued airily, inspecting her nails. "You’ve built this whole ‘intimidating dhaba owner’ persona, but deep down, maybe you're just…" She trailed off dramatically. "A little… uncoordinated?"

Arnav bristled. "Khushiji, I…"

Khushi, completely unfazed, grabbed his hand and started dragging him out. “Enough said. You’re going.”

“Khushiji, NO”

“Bankelal Ji, secure the pedas! He’s trying to run!”

“ON IT, KUSHIJI!”

And just like that, the most feared dhaba owner in Haridwar found himself hauled to a cricket trial, against his will, like a child being taken for his first polio shot.

The cricket ground was a dusty expanse of regret.

A very short man with an unnervingly squeaky voice stood in the center, wielding a clipboard like it contained state secrets.

“Alright, boys! Step up, step up! My name is…”

He said his name, but it came out so fast and high-pitched that it sounded suspiciously like Squeachin Teller.

Arnav squinted. “What?”

“SQUEACHIN TE—OH NEVER MIND! JUST BAT!”

Khushi elbowed Arnav forward. “Go on, Swami Ji! Show them your hidden talent!”

Arnav had hidden talents. Avoiding human interaction was one of them. Cricket was not.

Nevertheless, he took his stance at the crease. He could do this. He just had to imagine that every ball flying toward him was a Bengali rasogulla.

Except…

He could not do this.

One ball hit his pad, another flew past his ear, and one particularly aggressive one nearly knocked off his reading glasses. 

He really tried but then he swung with the grace of a malfunctioning table fan, missing each one so spectacularly that even the neighborhood halwai selling stale pakoras outside the stadium winced.

The bowler, a lanky fellow with a face that screamed mohalle ka gunda, but very round glasses, was enjoying this way too much.

“Arre bhai, are you trying to play cricket or swat mosquitoes?” he snickered.

Khushi had had enough.

She stepped forward, snatched the bat from Arnav’s hands, and pointed it at Squeachin like a warrior queen ready for Mahabharat 2.0.

“You. Squeaky voice. Get in there.”

Squeachin hesitated. “But…I…”

“Now”

The short man gulped, grabbed the bat from Khushiji and strutted up to face the bowler, clearly confident in his ability to show these amateurs how it was done.

Big mistake.

With the fury of someone personally offended, Khushiji grabbed the ball from the lanky fella, took her position, and hurled it straight at him.

Clean bowled.

The stumps flew. 

The bat dropped. 

Squeachin let out a noise somewhere between a meep and a yelp.

Silence.

Then, from the sidelines, Bankelal Ji erupted in laughter. “Kya baat hai, Khushiji! Arnav bhaiya, maybe YOU should be holding her transistor while SHE plays instead!”

Arnav scowled.

Khushi turned to him, tossing the ball up and catching it effortlessly, looking entirely too smug.

"Swami Ji," she said sweetly, stepping closer, "sometimes, it’s not about catching the rasogulla…"

She let the ball drop, watching it bounce near his feet.

"It’s about making sure no one else even smells it."

For a moment, Arnav Swami forgot how to breathe.

The sun shone behind her, a slight breeze catching the end of her dupatta, and for one horrifying second, he was tempted to close the distance.

Instead, he muttered, dangerously low, "Khushiji, one day, you will regret this."

Khushi grinned. "Looking forward to it, Swami Ji."

And with that, she picked and tossed the ball back to him and sauntered off, her transistor blaring the latest S.P. Balasubramaniam hit in the background, leaving Arnav standing in the middle of the pitch, contemplating a few things:

One, that cricket may actually be the most humiliating sport ever invented.

And two… that if Khushi ever joined the Indian Cricket Team, the rest of the world would just have to deal with it.

And three… that maybe, just maybe…he’d be there, transistor in hand, shouting her name in the stands. Not that he cared. He just didn’t trust Bankelal Ji to keep score properly.

Also on blog here and Wattpad here

[fullmetal-scar-simping]

Miles is literally so delusional for thinking he can single handedly change the entire country from his far off nowhere posting when every single ishvalan in the army has been killed. When he himself barely escaped death and i'm pretty sure he will be killed if the gov is suspicious of any actions on his part I don't even know where to start with his mind. And somehow I don't think Olivier or any of her soldiers will even bat an eye if that happens. Afterall, they have let their ishvalan colleagues be "purged" before, what makes him any special? They believe in "survival of the fittest" after all🙄 if the ishvalans died, they were probably not "fit" to begin with. So much for their fanatic loyalty to Olivier. So much for the comradeship and team spirit that exists between the briggs team BH keeps telling me about. Yeah fuckers lets ask your ishvalan comrade's ghosts what they think about that. Because from what it sounds like, Olivier either tried to save all of them and miles was the only one she could from who knows how many, or she found only miles to be "fit" to try and save and she shrugged her shoulders and went on with her career. Either way, she's a very, very fucked up woman. Not to mention how literally every other military character in the series, including ed & al knew about the "purge" that happened in the military ranks before the genocide? during? after? I don't think we know the exact timeline of it, and I'm still somehow supposed to believe they want the best for ishvalans😬. Sorry for the rant lol. I'm sure you already have a lot of asks to get to. But I have been watching BH again and well, it's been infuriating me in a way It didn't when I watched it as a teenager. No need to hurry in answering👍

Genuinely, how do you write a character that's meant to singlehandedly counteract any argument about destroying the military or taking genociders to task for their atrocities, and bungle the execution this badly?

(Mind you, even if it had been done well I would fully disagree with any notion that militaries are anything beyond the violent arm of the state to maintain borders and power, as well as pilfer land, resources, and people (or wholesale demolish those people and their lands) for the state's benefit. Digressions are my hobby.)

It's almost masterful tbh. Arakawa really needed a token brown guy to puppet on about why being a paid boot in the very institution that eradicates people is a necessary 'good' in order to make a pro-military reformist argument. And she did this while having already established that Ishval was thoroughly genocided while he and some other Ishvalans were already serving the State (so that's a flop). AND that those Ishvalan personnel were not only systematically removed from the military ranks, but imprisoned and even executed (so that's a mega flop).

I'm left stumped. This feels like the perfect set-up for the narrative to slowly unravel what would have been pro-militarism into an indictment of these institutions to begin with (even if done subtly), but no. It's all in service of boldly supporting the military and government under "correct leadership". Which itself contradicts Miles' stated goal in remaining in the anti-Ishvalan fascist Amestrian military, because actually what needed to be done was to overthrow the government itself. Need it be said that even this alone does not lift racial supremacy from a culture, but it does generally accomplish far more material change in that direction than keeping your head down in a border fortress, hiding your Ishvalan eyes behind goggles even amongst your oh-so accepting squadron.

Of course even the coup was all for the purpose of, once again, reforming and maintaining a military government under slightly new leadership, rather than abolition. So that's a giga flop. That's no surprise though, since by the time you're at the Briggs arc you know this series has no teeth whatsoever.

Olivier makes this all a much more baffling headspin. She keeps Miles on board because she sees him as an asset to... Improve their military might and stratagem. Which is...? Just. Such a bizarre angle on why embracing human variance "allows us all to become better thanks to the diversity of experiences" and the the innate value of your fellow people. Take that truth and contort it into a militaristic asset, in order to better protect borders against the wrong types of people, expand borders in order to broaden your hegemony over others, and slaughter those who will not obey (which will naturally incur racist and xenophobic propaganda because bigotry is a fantastic tool for manufactured consent and voluntary conscription).

Big progressive Olivier over here having the same social darwinist fascist beliefs as fucking Kimblee, who as you surmised must have seen the fall of Ishval and the arrests of even her fellow militarymen for being Ishvalan as "survival of the fittest". Except for Miles, because she probably realized she wasn't going to have her token if she passively allowed ALL Ishvalan boots to get the axe.

I'm personally not even convinced by the notion that she might have tried to save more people but could only succeed in saving Miles. Given her place as nobility in a generational noble military family, and all the stops she pulls for her guys, and her fascist beliefs (especially basically disavowing Armstrong as her brother because he disobeyed orders so as to stop murdering Ishvalans), it feels like she would let most of it happen even in cases where she could have extended her reach.

At least based on Brotherhood alone we don't know the timeline for those arrests, but it wouldn't be hard to guess that it had to have roughly coincided with the genocide. If a state is going to flush out the unwanted Other that thoroughly while ethnically cleansing that Other's homeland, they're not going to wait to rid their ranks of them until after the war has subsided. Unsure if the manga clarifies, but I suppose I'll find out soon enough.

It's batshit in the worst way possible. Love the fascist who operates violence on behalf of those who will eventually turn on him. What a compelling character for us to uncritically view as righteous and correct! Scar badman because he kill (for free, not paid for by the State, and also killing State guys).

Broho has to be the kind of show that's bleak to revisit when you used to enjoy it, upon returning with a more solidified political and critical eye.

Thanks for the rant! I live for these asks and the sense of vindication I get that others see the fucked nonsense being peddled under its bombastic shonen package.

[moonlight-tmd]

Suggestion shockbee au where shockwave runs a speak easy that's secretly a front for the decepticon mob and ends up falling for their newest bartender/performer bumblebee.

Ooh now that's interesting-

Hmm, I suppose it looks like this: Megatron doesn't give Shockwave the puny task of infiltrating autobot school but instead sends him to be Decepticon's back door to Cybertron. He set up as a rather high-end bar.

Most of the staff are in kahoots with the true purpose of the establishment but of course they have to hire more folks for entertainment purposes n such. Shockwave, disguised as Longarm, is the boss and rarely comes out to interact with the people, the manager is the one who handles new hires so he doesn't have to bother with it himself.

Of course, things don't always go smoothly with the out-of-the-loop folks. The bartender of the local was highly suspicious of the things going on in the back rooms, it's gotten to the point of the other workers catching him snooping around in the office. That couldn't go unnoticed so Longarm had someone take care of the mech. And so a new position opened up and was taken faster than anyone expected.

Longarm went on about his bussines, at least until the point of the place being inspected by the Cybertron's version of FDA. Longarm was required to be present in the restaurant, he got to really see how his service was operating and handling guests. During one of the talks, his attention was caught by a particular giggle. His optics landed on the small yellow bot behind the bar- he was the newest hire in the position of a bartender. His laid back demeanor and friendly expression as he professionally served drinks to the bots at the counter only made him more fit for the job. There was something about the mech that Longarm couldn't quite place...

After everything was checked and approved Longarm found himself coming out to the local more often. He'd check if everything was going well and sometimes chat with the guests, but really it was all an excuse to come and observe the bartender work. From the way he interacted with other people to the impressive tricks and ways to serve drinks, it made Longarm proud in a way but also tugged at his consciousness to go and talk with him.

One day during the opening hours check-up, Longarm was making a list of all the bewerages in the bar, since the manager couldn't come in that day ,when a voice called out to him. It was the bartender, he came in earlier and decided to have a small chat with the boss. His name was Bumblebee and he has worked in a bar before it closed and forced him to look for a new job. The mech was funny and very friendly with a bit of sass. Longarm made sure to tell him how pleased he was with his work and even gave him a raise.

From then on Longarm made sure to come and chat with Bee whenever he was on shift. One time when they talked, Longarm thought it would be a good idea to go out and have a lunch together, get to know each other more n such. Bee was hesitant but he agreed and they went to the new place that opened up down town. They had a good time together, laughed and chatted. Soon it became a little routine of theirs; just go out and chat about the week. Longarm had noticed Bee being a little more open about his personal life the longer they talked, he also started seeing Longarm as more of a friend than a boss. One time during some special holiday Longarm decided to take Bee and few of his other friends out for drinks. Bee challenged everyone in the pub to a drink off and gained quite a lot from the bets placed. He might have been small but he could hold his high grade better that anyone Longarm even knew. Still, he ended up drunk enough to not be able to walk on his own. Longarm took this opportunity to tow him back to his place and put him to berth.

The next day Bee woke up with a massive hangover he was greeted by none other than his friend/boss Longarm. Turns out Long was also drunk yesterday and didn't bother making a second trip to his place so he just crashed on the couch. And no, he assured Bee nothing else happened. They spend the day just chilling and trying to cope with the headaches, in the evening they watched a movie and Bee ended up falling into recharge cuddled up on Longarm's lap. Longarm took him to berth and left a note saying he went back home and that Bee has the rest of the week off.

Now, I imagine them being in that awkward private interest/workplace people phase; Bee likes Longarm but thinks it's wrong to date his boss so he keeps it to himself and only acts this relaxed in private. Same with Longarm, except he doesn't mind their work status. I'm not too sure how they would get together- I guess Longarm takes Bee out to some event he mentioned wanting to go and they end up on a something like a date. Bee's very awkward up until the point Longarm takes them to some private area and asks him out for real. Bee of course is a bit torn but then again, he wasn't the one to always follow the social rules so why shouldn't he date his boss. He agrees and from then on they date in secret. While on the clock they remain just friendly coworkers but in private they get to enjoy each other's company for real.

Bee's place isn't exactly in the best conditions so Longarm lets Bee crash at his apartment. It's rather luxiorious and has a room for Bee to stay in, even tho he prefers Longarm's berth. Longarm still keeps up the Decepticon front in secret, although I wouldn't be surprised if Bee had already found out cuz of his curiosity. He doesn't think much of it but he keeps quiet, he's happy and gets a fat cut of the spoils from Longarm and he couldn't care less about other things.

[copias-juicebox]

It's a Sin Chapter 2

Part 1 | Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x fem! Reader Words: 5144 Genre: romance, angst, smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, SLOWBURN Warnings: explicit languge, violence, abuse, age gap, smut (in the upcoming chapters blabla)

Notes: so i finally got to write down the next part. I am sorry it took so long. Been procrastinating for ages. I was very insecure to write this but i actually found a very sweet soul here to help me. This is why i have decided to dedicate this chapter to the lovely @fishwithtitz. Literally an angel (or demon idk) sent from up or down. However she helped me soooo much writing this and without her you would not be reading this now. So huge kudos and all the love and appreciation for this amazing woman. 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 (you should check out her works she is such a wonderful writer.)

18 years. It had been 18 long years since the night you ran away. The last time you were in your hometown was nearly two decades ago. And now, you are back.

It was so long ago, you barely even remembered the night at all. In your mind, there was just that awful night that resulted in your parents sending you away to learn the discipline they tried to beat into you, mentally and sometimes even physically. The dreadful day you wanted to forget so badly. Remembering that day and the following consequences had a shiver run down your spine. It left you with many scars mentally and you avoided thinking about it.

The school your parents chose for you was a few hours away from your home. It turned out to be an all girls school, run by catholic nuns that would enforce their teaching in only one way. “The way of God“ they always said.

You and all the other young girls had to learn what the nuns taught. The school followed the curriculum like any other school. Mathematics, language arts, science (even if many scientific facts were altered to fit the catholic beliefs), social studies and fine arts. Of course they taught everything from a catholic root and some of the subjects were taught in a very traditional way. Special courses in Bible work and Latin were forced on the students every afternoon. Even the fine arts like music and visual art they kept to a stern regulation. Any indication of „unholyness“ in the themes would be followed by extra bible lessons and hours spent in prayer with the Sister on duty. Nonetheless, your parents would not have sent you here if it were not run by catholic women in service of God. Like all the other girls, you had to obey the many arbitrary rules they set up. If you did not, they made sure you and everyone else were punished in quite severe ways. The nuns could be harsh and unforgiving. One time, a group of girls were found outside after curfew and they had to face the stick and had been locked away for a week.

In the beginning, you had a hard time— but you learned fast and they rarely found you breaking the rules in your later years. That did not mean you just rarely broke them, of course. You just had to be clever about it. Luckily, you were intelligent and learned to maneuvre your way the world. As they say “learn to swim, or you will drown.“ It was hard of course. You honestly tried to be a good girl. You told no lies, and that was when it would become very hard for you to stick to the teachings of the church since the nuns would ask you if they were suspicious of your actions. You always told them half truths. Enough to please them but never telling them nearly enough because that would get you hit with a paddle, your dinner forgone for days and hours of disciplinary work with the nuns to make you find your way back to God. The irony behind their words was never lost on you, only making your and everyone longing for freedom from God stronger.

As a girl, living in a world ruled by men and women acting in service of mankind, you had no say in your future. Your career was chosen long before you could even imagine working at some time in your life. So as soon as you settled into your new school, a nun called Sister Angela would ask you to help her in the infirmary. You were supposed to learn everything from a young age to later become a nurse. Sister Angela was an old and very strict sister. But you found she was actually very kind and warm inside. She was the closest thing you got to a mother figure in your new life so far away from your home. She taught you everything you knew. Everything about the school and the church that ruled over it.

She was very understanding when you were in your teenage years and even helped you once in a while when you were close to facing punishment for not doing your assigned chores in time for the 3rd time in a week. Without her, you might have ended up in a way worse condition than you luckily did. Some nights she was your rock in the waves, supporting you when you needed someone.

Luckily, your new occupation became a passion. You had always been happy to help anyone in need. No matter how. As long as you could help, you would nearly do anything to make other people’s lives easier. A people pleaser. That earned you a lot of praise in the later years from the people in town who got to benefit from your goodhearted nature many times over the years. That was the best feeling in the world — to be appreciated for your work filled you with happiness and it made your heart swell with pride.

After you graduated, you chose to pursue volunteer work on the streets. Helping others in need felt like your calling, and your parents were very happy about it. Working there for a few months gave you time to meet new people, and one day, a man came to you. He explained to you that he was working for a non profit organisation, and if you were interested, he could help you find a job. He would just need to know what your conditions were, and he would try to find a place that would be in dire need of a nurse.

You had been very grateful since you were in need of a job soon anyway. The volunteer work filled you with contentment, but you had to pay bills and your savings were wearing thin. You contacted him and told him that you would like to work somewhere for a church. You told him that you were not too picky, as long as you got your own room.

A few days later, he called you back telling you he found one place that was in desperate need of a nurse and under good conditions as well. It was an old church in a secluded area. They were offering to cover your living expenses, housing, food was inclusive, and they would pay you well enough. One extra perk they offered was that you could take courses in literature or arts for those who liked it. You were pleased to see that the church was located in the very same town you called your home, and since it was a church, you knew your parents would be supporting you to work there. „The Emeritus Church“ was what the guy on the phone said. You‘d never heard of that church before, but you figured it was a place of retired church officials and since you knew the older generation was not fond of electronic devices, you did not think too much of it when you did not find their website mentioned on the list of official catholic churches in your hometown.

You happily accepted the offer and tomorrow was the big day — the day you would start your first day as a nurse in the church.

You stood in front of the train station now. You could no longer live with your parents since they had moved away to another town 40 minutes away and a Sister, Sister Hannah from the Church with whom you had been writing, told you there would be a car to escort you to your new workplace. You were never that nervous in your life. Sister Hannah told you it would be a black Mercedes. She would be there waiting with the driver, and after a short period of time, you spotted a black S-Class rolling into your view.

The car came to halt in front of you and the door on the passenger side opened. A beautiful woman got out of the car. She was about your age you assumed. She wore a black habit and a big smile. As she approached you, the first thing that caught your attention were her shining grey-coloured eyes.

„Hello there. I am Sister Hannah. You might just call me Hannah if you like. You must be our new nurse — and a pretty one at that.“ She started with a warm smile, already fully aware you were the newest member in the ministry. When she stood before you, she extended a hand for you to shake. You smiled at her and took her hand giving her your name.

„It is nice to meet you, Sister Hannah. Yes it is me, I guess.“ you responded with your own smile.

„Wonderful. I am so glad you are here now. Let us not wait for too long here and get your stuff inside the car then. I want to show you a lot today.“

You nodded and began to lift your heavy bags off the ground when Hannah stopped you. „Oh no love don‘t do that I can let the Ghoul carry your stuff you need not to worry about it.“ She was already back at the car speaking to the driver.

You stared at her a bit lost. Did she just call the driver a ghoul? Poor guy might not have an angels face but surely there as no reason to call the poor thing a ghoul was it? Before you could think about it any longer a man opened up the door and walked in your direction. You stared at him wide eyed, not moving an inch when you saw he was actually wearing a silver mask that covered his whole head. The mask had little horns on top and underneath he seemed to wear a black balaclava that covered up his whole face so you could not even see his eyes. Just the mouth was free and he stopped right in front of you, tilting his head to the side.

Sister Hannah was next to you in a heartbeat. „So, this is our new nurse, Swiss. You better behave around her, yeah? Don‘t want me to complain about it to Papa again, right?“

The masked man in front of you turned his head sharply to Sister Hannah at that and just as sharply he looked back at you giving you a big teethy smile, motioning for your bags. You had not realized, but you were holding your bags in a death-like grip. The whole situation was so bizarre.

You gave the odd guy whose name was Swiss your bags. „Oh no, they are quite heavy, you should not carry them all at once.“ He took the heavy bags like they weighed nothing and carried them to the trunk of the car. That was impressive. He did not look like a specifically muscular guy, but you decided to brush it off when Hannah spoke up next to you.

„Perfect, so then let us get going, yeah?“ You followed her to the car and slid into the black soft leather seat behind the passenger where Sister Hannah sat down. The car was very expensive you could tell. The interior was very clean and stylish and the upholstery was not too hard and not too soft. It was very comfortable. This church was very well off you thought.

„So, tomorrow is your first official day, so today we have enough time to get you settled in. I am going to show you around the ministry and maybe we can even get a glimpse of Papa before you officially meet him tomorrow,” She exclaimed, giving you a wink.

„Ah yes that sounds wonderful. I‘d love to see the place and get used to it a bit before I have to put all my energy in the job. But uh..“ you hesitated a bit not sure how you were going to ask her.

Hannah felt your hesitation „Before I forget. Please feel free to ask me anything ok. Or if something is bothering you I am always there with open ears ok?“

You contemplated her words. „Okay uh.. you know, I was just wondering, you mentioned Papa?“ you asked with confusion in your voice.

„Oh you know Papa Emeritus the Third, sweetheart! This is actually his ministry. Even though the Cardinal runs the place mostly. But surely you heard about it.“ Hannah added.

„Uh, no, I actually don‘t know any of these people you‘ve mentioned.“ you muttered.

At that she turned around in her seat, facing you with a questioning look in her eyes.

„Oh you don‘t? I am sorry but how..?“ She contemplated for a bit. „Wait, are you..?“ She stopped mid sentence. „I need to ask you this now. You are a sister of Sin right?“

You locked eyes with her and furrowed your brows. Did she just say ‚Sister of Sin‘? The following silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity. None of you spoke, yet none of you looked away. That silence was only broken when Hannah started laughing out hysterically. „Oh Satan this is good. I mean oh I don‘t mean to be rude but this is probably the funniest thing to happen all year.“ You could not help yourself but start laughing along. Whenever there was something utterly ridiculous you could not stay serious. Doesn‘t matter how significant and bad a situation might be if it was just all too crazy you couldn‘t help yourself.

„Oh my God are you actually serious?“ you giggled.

„I mean, yeah. Ugh, this is so funny.“ she still could not contain her laughter. After a moment she calmed down and began again. „Okay sis, so here is the thing. I will get straight to the point: we are the ministry of Papa Emeritus the Third. I am a declared Sister of Sin and we are worshiping Satan.“

Her words left you speechless. You visibly gulped when you heard her speak of a satanic church. The church you were going to work in. It all left a bitter taste on your tongue and you were uncertain of your choices now. Was it all a bad idea to come here? Should you just run for your life? You were lost and remained still.

She gazed at you unsure of your reaction. „I hope you are not too shocked to hear that your new workplace is literally a satanic church, but I can assure you we are not what you have heard about us. There is no cruelty or sacrificing animals or whatever horror stories are rumored out on the streets. And I deeply hope that you are not going to quit now that you know about our beliefs.“ She begged and looked at you with puppy dog eyes. „I mean, we really need you sister. And we are actually very nice people, you know. I know our reputation is bad, but we believe in equality and justice. Our beliefs are truly well intended and I hope you can at least try and see for yourself, right?“

You just stared at her bewildered, still processing what you‘d heard. You were shocked to hear that. All your life you had only ever heard about them. They perform dark rituals asking for selfish powers. Committing sins, doing the devils deeds, and harming others while doing so. Corrupting every innocent soul out there with immoral beliefs.

But you swore to help others, no matter what side they stood on. Your calling was to help others, and so far, Sister Hannah was actually very kind and nice to you. She made it easy to speak to her and she was very open with you, and you appreciated that. Plus, the offer was just too good not to at least give Satan a chance you thought.

You blinked once or twice, completely overwhelmed with the new piece of information you just got. Hannah waved her hand in front of your face. „Girl, are you still with us? You better not suffer from a heart attack. I don‘t know how to deal with that, you are the nurse and Papa will be mad if I kill our new nurse before she starts her official first day.“

Her words brought you back to the car and Hannah was still looking at you expectantly.

„Ah, well, that really is something new to me, but if you promise me that everyone is nice there and there won‘t be any sacrifices, then I will take a look at your ministry and make my own opinion about it, I guess.“ You decided not to tell her that you were raised strictly catholic. It would only make things more awkward if you did, and since you no longer lived with your parents, you had not practiced your religion as your parents thought you did. In fact, most of the teachings that the nuns and your parents repeated endlessly you did not agree on. They sounded wrong to you and you never understood how in this time so many believed in them. When the nuns told you to always listen to your husband no matter how nonsensical it would be because he was in charge of the woman. When they spoke of God's grace, and yet, he is the one who murdered thousands of innocents just to prove a point or punish one man who did something to anger him. It all made very little sense to you. They were preaching how to be, how to act at all times, that you should always go to church and carry Jesus in your heart. If you did not go to the masses, you‘d face punishment. They forced you and the other girls into a way of living you had not asked for. Of course you could never let anyone know you had doubts. That would only harm yourself more than it could help.

„Oh yes. Thank you. I knew right away you were a good one.“ Hannah cheered. „So now that I know where we stand I should warn you. The ministry probably looks a little intimidating to you. I don‘t know how open you are towards the dark and macabre. We are headed to the woods right now. I know what you are thinking, but really I swear on the Dark One that you have nothing to worry about.“

The road was heading to the outside of town, nearing the woods as Hannah explained to you. After a few minutes more you arrived at a huge rusty and weathered gate.

The heavy wrought iron gate was opened by another man wearing similar clothing and mask as your driver when you came closer. Behind the bars, you caught a glimpse of a huge dark coloured mansion-like building. Nearing the front gate of the main building, you watched in awe as you took in the massive, dark and brooding facade. The heavy stone bricks and intricate decorations established a gothic look of an aged, magnificent architectural house. Thick spines of ivy crawled up the sides of the stone indicating the old age of the whole construction.

The limousine stopped in front of the door and you finally got out of the car. Sister Hannah and the driver got out, and while Hannah led you to the entrance, the driver went to the trunk, pulling out your bags.

„Welcome to the ministry of Papa Emeritus the Third.“ Hannah announced cheerfully, „Swiss love, could you bring the bags inside? I will be showing our new friend here the grounds so she won‘t get lost tomorrow.“ she beamed at you and grabbed your arm linking hers with yours in the process.

As you walked to the entrance, she started explaining to you about the „chain of command“ in the ministry. „I mean, there is not really a true hierarchy. You are still very free to do whatever you want, and if you don‘t want something, you don‘t have to. But Papa is our highest ranking official, and usually we do what he asks of us. I can promise you that he would never ask you to do something you are not willing to do. He can be considered to be our ‘Pope,’ if you will…just better. Oh, and don’t fret when you see Papa for the first time. He has a uh... how should I say... ‘special’ look.“ she smirked, opening the door.

„So, this is the atrium. From here, you can get basically anywhere in the main building.“ She continued leading you around, starting from the cellar, showing you where the kitchen is located, should you ever feel the need for a late night snack, to the main floor where all the official rooms were placed. All the time she informed you about the happenings and everyday life in the ministry. Everyone was tasked with different assignments. The rotation was usually planned by the Cardinal. As the nurse you would not have to do the housework like the Brothers and Sisters of Sin since your job was far more complicated and important than theirs.

She even showed you around outside. The grounds were huge and beautiful. There was a greenhouse located at the far end of the property. Right next to that a big garden bloomed in the sunlight with pretty flowers. Most of them were dark red and black roses.

„They are Primos favourites,“ Hannah informed you when you stopped to take a closer look. “He is very fond and proud of them. So, you better not pick any, or if you do, you better not get caught.” She winked. “The lovebirds here sneak out at night and do all the nasty, sinful things in the garden, and they like to pick a rose after that as a reminder you see. Primo gets mad every time.” Hannah giggled.

The sun had begun to set and the last warm rays of sunshine warmed your skin. It was a truly magical place. You admired every old stone of the walls, every green leaf and every particle of light that cascaded down to the old walls. But like everything in this world, the day was coming to an end, and Hannah suggested you retire for the day.

“We better get you back inside now. I can show you the rest later if you like, or you could roam around on your own.” With that you both made your way back to the main building.

So far, there was nothing too unsettling about the place. The dark decorations with pentagrams and skulls everywhere would be a bit off putting if deep down you didn‘t appreciate the dark. It was one of your biggest ever secrets, but the dark, mysterious, and morbid interested you. It always had.

You and Hannah stood in front of the staircase now. „So, upstairs are the living quarters of the Brothers and Sisters, and yours would be located at the very end of the hall. I will escort you. You must be tired now, and I don‘t want to overwhelm you more than you already are.“

When you reached the top of the stairs, you saw two figures conversing with each other. One of them wore a white dress shirt under a black coat with a crucifix sewed onto the fabric on the left side of his robe. He was wearing dark dress pants accompanied by black and white shoes. The most significant visual effect he had on you was his face. He wore black and white face paint that made him appear to have a skull like head. His pitch black hair was combed back and his piercing eyes made you breathe in sharply. His left eye was white, in stark contrast to the one on the right, which appeared to be greenish. You stared at him, but he was not as unsettling as you would have imagined him to be.

Your gaze met his mesmerizing eyes as you came closer to him, and he kept his eyes on you this whole time. When both you and Hannah stopped in front of the man, she was the first to speak.

“Good evening Papa,” She bowed her head. “Cardinal?” She turned her head to the second man standing there in greeting.

“This is our new nurse. Picked her up by myself from the train station this morning. I was showing her around our ministry.” Then she turned around to you. “This is Papa Emeritus the Third.” She gestured to the man with the skull make-up and you extended your hand to him.

The hypnotizing man turned his whole body to you now, looking down at your hand and then back up into your eyes, catching your hand in his and bowing down to kiss it, all the while holding eye contact.

“La mia bella signorina. Piacere di conoscerti. You must have been sent by Lucifer himself to grace our insignificant church by your beauty.” He almost purred. “You can call me Terzo, bella.” His deep voice sent pleasant shivers down your spine. He was smooth and elegant in a way you were not prepared for. Especially considering his appearance, you were surprised to be treated so gently.

“Thank you. Papa Terzo,” You responded by giving him your name as well. That earned you a smile from him. You had no idea what the first words he spoke to you meant, but they didn’t sound harsh or distasteful. He gazed at you and kept your hand in his for a moment longer than necessary. This action had you blushing slightly. You were lost in his eyes.

Your moment was interrupted when Sister Hannah spoke up again. “And this is Cardinal Copia.”

The movement on the side broke you out of your daze and you looked to the other man. When your eyes found his, you noted they looked similar to Papa Emeritus the Third’s eyes. The left eye was alabaster, while the right eye was a soft emerald. He also wore black makeup around his eyes. He appeared to be a middle-aged man with sideburns and a pencil mustache above his lips. Scanning his face, you noted that his upper lip was also painted black. He wore a black tight cassock and an accompanying black biretta.

He fidgeted around when your eyes skimmed over his appearance for a moment and you gave him a smile. When you held out your hand to him to shake it, he hesitantly grabbed it and gave it a small shake.

“I am also very pleased to make your acquaintance,” The Cardinal muttered in a low voice, bowing down slightly. He could not hold eye contact while speaking to you, and his movement was a bit awkward. He looked down to his feet and when he came back up, his eyes were back on Terzo.

“Now, if you’d excuse us, our new nurse is very exhausted from the day and would like to retreat to her chambers to get some sleep before she officially starts tomorrow.” Hannah said in a sing-song voice and you two walked to the end of the corridor, vanishing behind the door of your new chambers.

“What a pretty flower. Satan must be very pleased with us, don't you think Cardinal?” Terzo rejoiced. “I just fear that our dear brothers and sisters will fake injuries now or intentionally hurt themselves to have her take care of them, sí?” He laughed.

Copia just nodded his head in response, stunned by the beauty of you. His head was going to be occupied by your gorgeous smile for a while. He could not help himself. Something about you seemed so familiar, but he could not pin it down and decided to brush it off for now since Terzo was still waiting for his answer on whether he was getting his mini fridge or not.

You and Sister Hannah entered your new quarters. The room was not outstanding in size or decoration but occupied everything you needed. In fact, you had some extras granted to you that the regular brothers and sisters did not have. First, you got your own rooms that you did not have to share with anyone. Your bed was significantly bigger than usual and you had your own bathroom.

“Oh my lord, you are such a lucky girl.” Hannah squealed right after she closed the door behind you. “You just met Papa, and oh Satan, isn’t he just wonderful?” She swooned. “You made me a little jealous there, not gonna lie to you. But let me warn you. Papa is very flirtatious. You shouldn’t let him get to you too much. Unless you are down for it, of course. Then ignore what I said.” She smiled. “He is very horny too, so I am just trying to inform you before you find out the hard way.” After a moment she realized how that sounded. “Oh, not that he would force himself on you, or whatever, no but his innuendos are very straightforward sometimes. I reckon that can be quite shocking.”

You sighed, plopping down on the bed. “Oh my God, this is all so much to process I feel like my brain is going to explode.” You were still very much in a state of shock and wonder. The whole thing was just so ridiculous. At some point, you thought it was all a dream, and when you woke up none of this would be real. But you knew better and this place just felt far too real. Not even your messed up mind could conjure such an odd scenario.

“Oh sis, I understand. I will leave you to yourself then. Have a good night's rest. I will pick you up tomorrow at 7. Your clothing should be in the wardrobe over there. And I think you’ll get by here in your chambers just fine, yeah?” She was already out the door when she stuck her head back inside. “By the way, sis, I am very glad you are here.” She gave you a soft, sincere smile and closed the door.

You decided to relax for the rest of the evening. After spending about ten more minutes on your bed contemplating everything that happened in the past few hours, you got up and started unpacking the necessary items from your bags. After all, you were not sure if this place was for you. Your friends would give you questioning looks if you told them where you worked, your parents would be mortified. You let out a laugh imagining them coming to the ministry with crucifixes and bottles of holy water to cleanse this place and rescue their sweet little child. No, you could never tell them.

You prepared everything for tomorrow and went to bed with a book to ease your mind. Tomorrow was going to be an eventful day.

If anyone would like I could offer to make a taglist so you would get notified for updates on this. Just let me know yes?

[omgpurplefattie]

MLC WIP Wednesday

Hurrah, I have a WIP going again. Here's a bit from the next chapter of RV Lianhua Lou. PoV is Fang Duobing.

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There was a display shelf in the sitting room that looked suspiciously solid, so Fang Duobing picked up a few flower pots that dotted the shelf, put them on a table, stuck his hand up the most likely cubbies, and started investigating the hinges and corners of the shelf.

Yet another thirty minutes later, he had found a number of levers and buttons, and a sofa on the other side of the room slid aside, to reveal a low door, and stairs going down. You had to duck your head, but otherwise, it was perfectly serviceable.

“I would never have thought…” Zhiyu breathed, leading the way down the stairs; so she was the first to step into the hidden vault.

The ceiling lit up automatically, and Zhiyu screamed.

“Dad!”

Governor Jin was lying on his back on the floor, eyes wide open, wearing only one slipper, and dead as a doornail.

“Damn,” Li Lianhua breathed. “There goes our new business model.”

A bit further inside the secret room lay a Klingon everybody present swore they had never seen before, just as dead, among several open, empty boxes.

“The Blood Vessel of Doom!” majordomo Jin exclaimed. “It’s gone!”

“After this,” Li Lianhua sighed to Fang Duobing, “nobody will commission a security system from us ever again. Our very first client ended up dead, and the main treasure he wanted guarded got stolen. Oh dear.”

“We will get it back!” Fang Duobing declared. He was feeling despondent, but only for a moment. If the Klingon doctor was holding Di Feisheng hostage against that Blood Vessel, then they just had to find the damn old pot again. Giving up on A-Fei was not an option. “Forget about the security system trade; it has been fun, but really not our core competency. I’m an investigator of the Hundred Rivers agency, so let’s do some investigating!”

He took out his tricorder and started recording evidence. Moving the slightly hysterical majordomo aside, Li Lianhua squatted down between the two dead bodies, got out his medical tricorder, and began to record facts. He turned over both corpses and paid special attention to Jin Mantang’s bare foot, which he held in both his hands, bending it sideways and pondering every detail.

“They must have killed each other!” Zhiyu said. “My dad must have discovered the Klingon intruder and tried to stop him from taking the Vessel, and the other artifacts he had down here. Perhaps he has thrown his slipper at him to get his attention?”

“But then where are all the magic pots?” Li Lianhua said. “And I would never try to stop a Klingon with a slipper again. Believe me, I have attempted it, and it didn’t work.”