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feveredvisions · 4 days ago

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Talking Body: Epilogue

(Harry Da Souza x you) 🔞

Here's Part 1 if u wanna read it x

Warnings: pussy eating, cunnilingus, power play, degradation, orgasm denial, public sex, car sex, possessive sex, dirty talk, bodily fluids (cum n squirt), bodily noises (queefing) Summary: The part where Harry Da Souza makes up for being consistently an absent boyfriend. He takes righting any mistakes seriously. And serving time for the offences he has committed against you and your relationship. He doesn't back down from facing the consequences of his actions. Especially not from you. Author's note: Fucking finally. I forced my sleep-deprived ass to finish this. At least before a new MobLand EP comes out this weekend. Could you tell I wrote this in a weird limbo between my dying ovulation phase and my incoming luteal phase? Love writing Harry btw. Can't wait to write more with his character. If you have any requests, just hmu on my ask box. Also, thank you so much for reading and sharing Kiss Me Thru The Phone. You're fucking crazy okay I love you. I hope you can forgive some typos and other weird grammatical errors and weird sentences I may have constructed. I am very eepy. Enjoy reading!

At closing time, after having a quick murmured conversation with the doorman, Harry strolled into Charlie's at half-twelve with you in his arm, wrapped like a protective steel band around your waist.

The dress you’re wearing now is a different one. A lilac chiffon dress with a slit up your thigh. When Harry reached home, seeing and smelling the roses drenched in your squirt and cum, poor man nearly ripped the new dress off you and fought against himself to mindlessly fuck the hell out of you on the petaled floor; on top of the soaked debauched sorry roses; and spoiling you with his vicious romancing the entire evening.

No. He was a better man than that.

Although he did dab a soaked petal on his neck and wrists. Liking how the natural scent of the rose mixed with your musk. But tonight, at midnight, which is technically the next day and is no longer the day of your anniversary, he remained dead set on making it up to you and preserving your efforts in reserving a table for two at Charlie’s. It was the least he could do to be a decent boyfriend. Stave off a new burning guilt amongst the sea of candle lit ones.

The host's face fell at the sight of the two of you. He recognised Harry Da Souza and was unsure if someone will be butchered alive at their restaurant or not at this time of night. Last time he was here, he took care of a feud between two quarreling gangs in an attempt to meet each other halfway to a peace pact and an apology towards each other. Both sides chose peace and a spit at each others leather shoes. So, with Conrad Harrigan's blessing, Harry had to make the final call to execute both gangs along with their heads to prevent any more trouble from arising in the future.

You, having no idea at all of that violence and chaos at all, smiled apologetically at the host and at the other staff who were already cleaning up the place.

Tonight, it’s all about him and his lady.

“Evening,” Harry drawls, flashing a sharp smile at the host. “Table for Mr. And Mrs. Da Souza, please.”

The host glanced at the done up empty dining room, the tables stripped from the expensive linen and silk and chairs already stored up on the table. He knew well not to decline a request from a man as powerful as Harry. The staff had already done cleaning up for their closing shift including the kitchen. Torn between wanting to close the private restaurant for the night and not wanting to piss off the assassin, the host tried his own way. “Sir, we're already—”

Harry places a roll of cash in the host's hand. “Keep the chef. Keep the wine. And keep ya fuckin’ mouth shut.”

The man pales. “R-right this way.”

Harry smirks, leaning in to whisper in your ear as you were led to a cosy table booth. “Told you, didn't I?”

You rolled your eyes at him. Show off. Sliding into the cozy plush seat of the intimate booth, then having Harry sit across you. He instinctively adjust the golden Rolex on his right wrist that glimmered under the dim warm lights.

The menu was a high-end formality. You ordered a bloody rare steak and a salad all for yourself. You handed the menu booklet back to the waiter with an innocent smile.

“And how about for you, sir?”

“None for him.” You immediately answered for Harry. “He's…on a strict diet.” Your sly gaze flicking at Harry. Oh it's fucking on.

The waiter knew not to question anything and simply nodded then walked away.

“Hmm,” Harry let out a soft grunt as his bearded jaw twitched. He knew it was his turn to be on the receiving end of however you wish to torture and get back at him. For your own satisfaction, this time, which he wouldn't mind fulfilling for you.

Harry Da Souza always pays his debts.

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Your rare bloody steak arrived on a clean white ceramic plate along with the salad and complimentary bread and dip. The way it glistened under the dim chandelier lighting made your mouth water and your belly clench. Its juices pool at the bottom like a fresh kill. Exactly just how you liked it. A wicked smirk formed in your lips as you watched your beautiful, tortured, tough boyfriend—his nostrils flaring, his cock twitching in protest.

Harry watches, jaw tight, as you slice into the meat with deliberate slowness. Revealing the beautiful ombre of pink meat and its rich red myoglobin in the centre. The scraping of the silver knife on the plate made his fingers twitch. Whether from hunger or the urge to flip the table and fuck your glistening blushing pussy right there—he wasn't sure.

You take your time, swirling a nice bite in the juices then popping the meat in your mouth. Savoring the tender and juicy meat, its flavours bursting in your mouth. “Mmm, delicious.” you lick your lips. Glancing at Harry. “Shame you can't have any.”

Harry grabbed a piece of the smooth bread and began to tear it. “Fuckin' cruel, you are.”

“Cruel?” You tilt your head innocently. “I’m just making sure you don't have something heavy at midnight. I care about your health, baby.” Your words were filled with saccharine sweetness that made his eyes narrow at you.

Underneath the table, you kicked off your heels and slid one foot up his thigh until your toes brushed against the rigid outline of his cock straining against his trousers.

Harry lightly shuddered. “Christ—”

“Under here, baby.” You tell him, tapping the tip of your finger, pointed down against the table. “Your dinner's waiting.”

Harry let out another grumble, but he obeyed. Briefly looking around the empty restaurant with the staff busy cleaning up and restoring tools in the kitchen and behind the bar. Then he slid down under the table without a word.

You bit on your lip as a grin spread across, spreading your thighs apart and moving your hips forward. Pushing the skirt of your dress up to your hips, he hooked both your legs over his shoulders and pressed himself closer. Looking up at you like a vicious hungry salivating disciplinaryd dog waiting for his master's orders and also a promising look that he will devour the absolute fuck out of you.

“Lick.” You ordered.

Harry obeyed. A gasp escaping your mouth as he leaned in, his groomed beard scratching your soft skin. His tongue dragging through your wet folds with a growl. His mouth was hot as he ate you hungrily. Starved for the taste of you.

You resume eating and slicing yourself a piece of your bloody steak, moaning both at the warm molten pleasurable sensation from getting your pussy eaten under the table and the orgasmic goodness from your taste buds. The best of both worlds.

“Mmmm…good dog,” you praised him. Smiling self-indulgently at him whilst you leaned against the back support of the sofa like a Queen.

Harry hooked his arms around your thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. The metal strap of his watch also making an imprint on your thigh. “You fuckin' tease,” he muttered against your plump slick cunt then went back in, his tongue working you open. Like he was trying to carve his name into your flesh. His mouth suckling you. Making loud, messy, wet, obscene noises.

Your basal temperature rose up to almost a fever pitch. “Fucking glutton,” you gasped. Grinding against his face. “Clean up your mess, dog.” You taunted as you reached one hand down to fist his hair.

Harry snarled, the vibration shooting straight to your clit. His fingers digging into your thighs, holding you open, yanking you harder against his mouth. Eating you harder like he was starving. His nose crinkling and his eyes sharp and fierce. Lips sealed tight, sucking, like he was trying to steal your soul. The host awkwardly scurried past, eyes averted, but you didn’t give a shit. Let them watch. Let them see what happens when Harry Da Souza was put on a leash.

“Slap it. Slap my pussy.”

“Fuckin’ hell, woman.” Harry pulls back just enough to glare at you. His lips glistening with your slick and his neatly trimmed beard soaked generously like a semi-unblended moisturiser.

There was a squishy wet smack from under the table as Harry slapped your sopping wet cunny, earning a hiss from you and a pleasurable tingle from your clit. The waiter who served your table and was lingering by the pass, flinched at the sound like he'd just been shot. Guiltily watching in astonishment from behind the bar across the room.

A broken laugh escaped your mouth. Smug and taunting. Harry answers with a rapid-fire volley of slaps, each one a wet rhythmic lewd punishment. It sounded of a drowned applause and a fish slapped against marble. Your hips stuttering as your pussy desperately audibly clenches to nothing until—pffftt—a long shameless bubbling queef puffing out in retaliation. Bubbles of air escaping out of you in rude bursts. As if your cunt herself was laughing at Harry this time.

Harry pauses. “Oh there's my girl.” Leaning down, his breath hit against your twitching hole.

“Talkin' shit, huh?” he spits directly onto your pulsing slit, the glob landing with a lewd splat, mixing in with your own slick. “Let’s hear it properly then.”

His tongue was back on you. Broad and ruthless, licking into as if he were carving his name on your flesh.

It felt like your soul was about to take off. Your back arching off the couch, toes curling as your vision flashed white—eyes rolled back to the heavens and core gushing. Harry's tongue swipes slow and filthy over your clit, lapping at the mess he's made. Every suck pulls another shameful queef from your cunt, the air escaping in tiny, humiliating puffs against his tongue.

"Look at you. You're a disgrace," he mutters. His cock straining against his trousers. His cockhead weeping and his balls aching to be emptied inside you.

"Orderin' me 'bout like a fuckin' dog, starvin me. But this?" He flicks his tongue hard over your hole, making you squeal. "This is my fuckin' supper."

You drip like molten honey, thighs trembling as your orgasm bites up your spine. "Oh, you fuck!!”

It hits you like being defibrillated back to life. Your pussy walls clenching, pushing out a warm robust squirt straight into Harry's stupid smirking mouth as your queefs turn into helpless, wet sputters. He groans low and satisfied, holding your hips down as you thrash, his tongue working you through it, drinking every drop. When he finally pulls back, his chin glistening, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and shoots you a look of pure masculine arrogance.

"Next time," he says, tapping your swollen clit like it's a misbehaving pet, "ask nicer.”

You pouted petulantly at him as you slumped, wanton and a humming electricity in your warm skin. Popping a lukewarm slice of steak in your mouth. “We're not done, buddy.”

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After the exclusive and explosive special dinner at Charlie's–paying another band of cash for the cleanup. You rushed out of the restaurant with Harry. Tugging him by the semi-open collar of his blouse. Having him unlock the car then pushing him into the backseat and crawling in after him. Immediately pouncing on him whilst you shook off your feet free from your high heels. Harry also undid his belt buckle and then his jeans zipper. The sound of the metallic clang of his belt and his zipper unzipping sending tingles to your clit.

Being Harry's tormentor, you didn't waste any more second straddling him. Thighs bracketing his hips. Grabbing onto his gold chain necklace and wrapping it around your fist like a leash.

Harry hissed and growled at you. Knocking the wind out your lungs as he slid his cock home into you. His chest reverberating a deep purr of satisfaction and pleasure. His big hands securely holding onto your hips as you rode him. Enjoying the smooth sensation of your hips undulating.

You crane your neck back as you let out a weak moan and a sigh of relief too from finally having him inside you after a long ass night. Your pussy hungrily suckling his stiff pulsating cock into it like a selfish starved animal. The leather seats creaked under your excitable bodies heavy with desire. Fogged windows sealing both of you in your own filthy little world. Your hips grinding down on his cock, slow and sadistic.

Warm, slick walls fluttering around him like you were already winning. And fuck, it hurt.

Not the stretch. You were dripping and warmed enough to perfectly mould on his delicious veiny ridges. Always fucking dripping and malleable for him.

It was the denial. He could be easily plowing into you like a mindless horny animal, but no. You had to get your way, punish him and get back to him in a way that wouldn't involve biting each other's head off and screaming at him and getting screamed at that made your head throb.

You just made sure to pay attention to the way you rolled your hips sharply just to watch his jaw clench, the way your fingers twisted in his gold chain like a leash. Tugging him to submission. He was absolutely getting his money’s worth on his neck jewellery and more.

"You don't get to cum tonight, baby," you softly told him almost apologetically. It wouldn't kill him. And this wouldn't pull the two of you even further apart from each other.

You watched as a vein in his neck pulsated, his body radiating searing sensual heat. His golden chain smoothly grating against his sweat-slicked skin. You felt him up with your other free hand. Damp hairy chest with scars underneath that's visually covered by several tattoos. His heart pounding in his scorching hot chest.

Would it still be worth it staying one more month, one more year with him? Your heart itself is currently alight. Your innards warm and glowing. There are worse men out there.

Harry noticed you getting inside your head. Your eyes looking past his. He could always tell. Your hips slowed just a fraction, your grip on his chain going slack like you were about to let go entirely. And Harry hated that.So he dug his fingers into the meat of her thighs, nails biting just shy of pain, and smirked up at her.

"You love this, don't you, you spiteful little slag? Getting off on my fucking suffering.”

You barely had time to retort before he snapped his hips up, fucking into you with a brutal rhythm. The gold chain still wrapped around your fist jerked taut, biting into his throat as he laughed.

"Go on, then," he taunted, eyes glinting in a challenge. "Leash me proper. Show me what a good fucking mutt I am.”

Your pussy walls clenched around him, nails digging into his shoulders as you rode the edge of fury and desire, but Harry wasn't done.

"You know all those late-night 'clinic calls?'" His thumb swiped over your clit cruelly light, as he drove up into you again.'"The blood I scrub off before crawling into bed with you?" A sharp grin. "Fuck's sake, darling—you really think the NHS pays for this car?"

Your breath hitched. What? Was he joking? His cock twitched inside you in delight as he watched you unravel. What the fuck was he talking about? Your mind was deep into the sexual haze to even start processing shit. Or any thought at all.

"Harry—”

“Ah-ah." He flipped you onto your back leather seats sticking to your skin as he loomed over you. His golden chain dangling over your face and his glorious huge semi-naked body caging you in.

You reached a hand up, yanked his chain, and pulled him down into a biting kiss. He groaned into your mouth, letting you roll him back upright onto the seat, his hands sliding to your arse to guide your movements.

"Fuck yourself on me," he ordered, voice wrecked. "Make that greedy cunt sing. I wanna hear it.”

The heady scent mixture of musk, sweat, faint rose, your perfume, and sex—paired with the concentrated sound of your wet squelching sex filling the car. Your loud panting as you were back on your saddle, riding the hell out of your idiot. Harry Da Souza was your heaven on earth.

"Tell me-tell me who this cock belongs to."

"Mine!" You arched, nails raking down his back.

"Fuck yea." His teeth grazed your pulse point. "Keep fucking acting like it, Mrs. Da Souza.”

…

“You still don't get to cum.”

Harry lets out a laugh, causing you to laugh too as it felt ticklish with his cock fluttering inside you.

"Darling, last I checked, this cock belongs to you. So by that logic—”

You yanked his chain, cutting him off with a sharp tug of the strong metal gold against his throat. His smirk deepened in wicked amusement.

"Suck my tit," you ordered, voice rough with lust, "and shut the hell up while I ride you.”

Harry's grin was pure sin as he dipped his head, tongue flicking over your nipple before drawing it into his mouth with a filthy, deliberate suck. His eyes-dark, gleaming, mocking-locked onto yours as you rolled your hips, taking him deeper, harder.

You clench around him, relishing the way his breath stuttered. "Eyes on me, mutt."

His groan vibrated against your breast, his cock twitching inside you as your cunt clenched-then let out a shameless, wet queef, the sound obscene in the tight space.

Harry's hips jerked, his breath hitching against your skin. "Fuck!"

You smirked. "Problem, Da Souza?"

His grip on your arse turned bruising "Only that your pussy's got a fucking mouth on it," he growled, dragging you down onto him with a slap of skin. His hands trembling as he clung onto the sliver of effort in fighting against his body's nature to blow his load into you. "And it's begging me to fill it."

Your (author could no longer count how many times you've orgasmed in this storyxx) orgasm came in a flash, capturing your soul and then flooding your mind and nervous system like the cool spring water in the mountains. A cry of pleasure ripping out your throat as your body shook. Harry's control snapped too (he decided as much as he loved you making him your bitch or he will have brain haemorrhage) as his release hit him like a bullet, letting out a roar and then sinking his teeth into your shoulder to muffle his groan. Holding and squeezing your body tightly as his load flooded your walls.

As you winced from the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure and as the stormy seas of heady lust subsides, it was clear that Harry Da Souza was a knife pressed against your throat and, my god, you would rather bleed than to let go.

My head is soooo fucked but I hope u enjoyed all that. Thank you so much for reading my stuff xx

#harry da souza #mobland #mobland fanfiction #harry da souza x you #harry da souza x reader #harry da souza fanfic #feveredvisions ovulation fic #ovulation fic

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yaekiss · 8 days ago

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Oh damn shout out to 🪻anon. im gonna try and not spend every moment.thinking about blade and mydei competing

also qi. qi. pretty please. share resurrection thing. 🥺. if u want. but please. but only if u wanna. but 🥺 🥺 🥺 🥺 🥺

im eepy i givr u kisses now (*‘ω‘ *)💛

reallll 🪻 nonnie is not only cooking irl but also cooking w the blorbo ideas 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🧑‍🍳🧑‍🍳🧑‍🍳

anyways! the resurrection thing!! half-baked yandere plot idea under the cut! I typed a whole 400 ramble in a dm to myself LOL so forgive me if the formatting or pacing is awful. [post writing qi here. this thing is no longer 400 words...]

You wake up disoriented, unable to remember what happened before you... Passed out? The floor is nice and polished and clean elsewhere except for the spot you laid on. It's a little grimy and darkened but oh well. At least you're not in pain.

You inspect yourself for injuries. Something's definitely wrong when you look down and. Alarm floods through your system.

This isn't your body.

???? What happened? You wrack your brain for memories but all you can remember are snippets from before you blacked out. Despite your best efforts, you can't recall anything that deductively explains this jarring situation.

You'd try to find more clues however, you're snapped out of your thoughts when someone walks into the room, eyes widening as they see you. "You're awake...!" They rush over from the doorframe, immediately fretting over you, asking if you feel alright, if anything hurts.

Although the person's appearance was sudden, a sense of familiarity seems to rise up within you. You're not close friends with them but maybe you've seen them around in passing somewhere? ...Or maybe it has something to do with the person whose body you're inhabiting?

You're now presented with an internal dilemma: Do you confess the truth or play it cool? The person fussing over you right now probably knew the person whose body you're in well, if not, why would they be so touchy? Confessing the truth would backfire, given how much they care for "you". But obviously you're still missing a lot of info about "yourself", so you play it off as a temporary sort of memory lost (hey makes sense after waking up right from something bad enough to worry someone so much over right?) to try and understand more about this situation you've been thrust into.

Feigning weakness, you put a hand up to your head, "Where am I...? What happened?" The person's brows furrow but straighten out again before you can remark on it

"Oh, you poor thing you..." Rambling on and on about something like a high fever or overworking yourself to exhaustion something something.

"I thought I'd never see you again, dearest," their voice carries a hint of grief, "Don't worry, I'll take care of you while you recover." They sound so earnest, and it breaks your heart at the implications.

Well, that settles it then. You've unwittingly taken the place of your poor saviour's loved one. The guilt gnaws at you but you shove it back and rationalise that it's best to stay put and find clues to make the swap back to your old self.

The days pass by in a blur when you're made to play pretend. Maybe it's pure luck when they don't notice anything at all odd with your mannerisms. But sometimes, you can't help but feel uneasy at their blatant disregard and indifference to actions or habits that you've definitely butchered.

It all culminates when reader tries to leave the house. Perhaps you've gotten fed up with this precarious game of charades. Or you've reached dead end after dead end, unable to find any hints that'll fix this whole situation.

And you're almost out of the place when a door creaks open, rooting you to the ground where you stand. You feel arms snaking and hugging you from behind. Their voice right next to your ear, low and frighteningly calm.

"Where are you going...?"

When you don't reply, not even gracing them with a look, they nuzzle as best as they can into the crook of your neck. Their words muffled, breath slightly warm on your skin as they say, "I can't lose you again."

Their affection is misplaced. You're tired of the constant guilt and pretense. Temper crackling you whirl around to face them head on. Something that you reckon you should have done a lot earlier.

"I'm not even who you're thinking of! I'm a complete stranger!"

They try to reach out and hold you but you shove them off, causing them to slam against the door leading out. So much for leaving, you don't even know where they keep the keys.

However, most of all, you can't stand the way they're looking at you right now. There's no trace of confusion despite the nonsense you've just spat out.

As if they've seen right through you from the start.

Against your better judgement, you run and duck into a side room, hoping to buy some time or sneak out through a side window. Anything just to get away from their searing gaze.

Surveying your surroundings, your eyes slowly adjust to the dimmer lights of this room, contrasted with the brighter lights in the house outside.

Only to find small belongings from your original life (can you even call it that?) littered throughout. They cover the table that's next to a shelf full of books in an indecipherable language. Pictures of you are pinned and arranged on the walls.

Nausea sets in within you. Nothing makes sense.

The door to the room opens and clicks shut softly.

"What is the meaning of this," your voice barely above a whisper, "I don't understand."

They shift to take the spot next to you, taking your hand and entwining your fingers together. They croon out your name, dripping with saccharine, cloying, revolting, sweetness.

"They couldn't find your body you know. It drove me mad." Their other hand mindlessly traces designs up your arm, tone lighthearted despite the topic.

"I was in such a fugue state, I barely even realised what I was doing... Not until I had the whole spell drawn out on the ground." They say so nonchalantly, as if bringing you back from the dead was nothing to them.

Mustering up the courage to pry your eyes away from the shrine they've made for you, you turn to look at them, clinging to your side. Their gaze is trained on you wholeheartedly, lashes lowered as they drink up your attention.

You must be losing your mind because the shadows behind them seem to flicker in and out strangely, inexplicably distorting the surroundings around the both of you like a scorching summer heat wave. Sweat starts to prickle on the back of your neck despite the temperatures in the room plummeting. Cracking open your mouth, you ask.

"Whose body is this?"

HOLY MOLY that. uhm. this got out of hand. this is no longer the original 400 words. anyways I initially wrote this with kylar (dol) in mind so ask me again if you want the more kylar parts LOLL I cut them out for this... also below are just some basic outline pointers I wrote for myself too and I just wanted to chuck em somewhere:

(the character lies to you to get you to trust them) (reader believes them and is sooooo guilty at somehow stealing the place of their lover's consciousness but has to play the part) - {both reader and character are playing pretend but they don't know each other are part of the same game} {character is playing up their innocence so they don't scare you off and you love them back} {reader is playing up the loving role to ultimately survive and get their life back and/or escape}

ok thank you for asking to see the resurrection idea thingy ainsel luv u 2 <333 please please please tell me what you think of this brainfart of mine........ [pleading eyes]

#📜.qi writings #📜.qi musings #📜.qi chats #chats with ainsel!#yandere #yandere x reader #i think this warrants a musings tag rather than a ramble tag #too nice and complete sentence-y to be a ramble methinks #if this is inchresting enough #I mighttttt be tempted to write it in full for a character some day (after my donation prompt fics are completed ofc!)

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autisticjoshrusso · 7 days ago

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ok i just binged through the end of 2:00pm, some scattered thoughts before i sleep:

stares directly at dr. yolanda garcia. i know what you are. its the way i was like "okay, if she goes 'oopsie she messed up but i forgive her xoxo' about LITERALLY stabbing her in the foot, there is something deeply wrong with her and im obsessed with it" and well. yeah. <3 girl you've known this intern for a few hours ???? crazy. im studying her under a microscope with love <3

FOR ONCE i am not bewitched by the arrogant white boy with overcompensating bisexual vibes and substance abuse issues everyone cheered. like... langdon is fine but not the most compelling character by far. im so very neutral towards him and that's crazy to me because you'd expect me to be insane about him on impact. we'll see if that changes once we actually get to said issues rather than just knowing about them through out of context spoilers.

autism storylines make me SO nervous i am looking at mel like girl do not betray me... i am hoping and praying that she is just choosing not to disclose like thats the vibe i get BUT i never trust a showrunner ever so i am staring distrustfully until we actually get her talking about it beyond "oh my sister's autistic" like girl You. You also are autistic and I am hoping and praying you know this and are just being private about it.

as much as i love insane deranged characters um shout out to my girls who are actually reasonable and compassionate and have yet to do anything egregious that i can recall thank you kiara in particular for being so so normal and helpful all the time amongst so much insanity. mccay, collins, and mohan too. girls of all time thank you queens i sincerely hope things stop happening to you (they wont </3)

best minor character favorite guy blorbo status currently belongs to mateo. also the fact that i went to imdb to remember character names and found out his last name is diaz. crazy. i know its a common last name but the way i went like EDDIE DIAZ the peoples princess?????? my babygirl?????

it takes a lot for me to actually give a fuck about the White Male Lead so like im fairly indifferent to dr robby so far but i do think his character is interesting and flawed in ways that i will grow to like him more over time. i dont Dislike him though which is already clearing a bar. also him getting called fruitcake and cocksucker by the one lady had me like 🤨 girl what do you know that we don't know.... share with the class.....

im sure theres more to yap about but im eepy i will yell more about this show later im sure good night

#my posts #the pitt

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lia-lillies · 25 days ago

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✉️ ARGHHHH I COULDN'T FIND THAT EXACT EMOJIII WOULD THIS SUFFICE??

lol hi, june!! that emoji works fine, no worries! how are you, my love? hope you’re doin’ well!

honestly, what’s not to love about you! you’re very funny (like, EXTREMELY funny. anytime we chat or i look on your blog, there’s always something that makes me laugh!) and down to earth. you’re also open to criticism in the way that motivates yourself to do better, and some people don’t like constructive criticism or feedback, so it’s admirable you look for that type of thing. you’re a very driven person, as well as very kind and thoughtful. in the little time i’ve known and talked to you, i feel like i have known you for years! your presence is very comforting! like you said about me, you have helped cure my boredom! you seem to just be a great person overall, and i’m glad that the cringe fic you wrote would end up starting our friendship! love you so much! there’s a lot more i could say but i just woke up and am very eepy (as i wrote this), so forgive me! but thank you for participating and thank you for being friends with me! <3

#airi answers #airi answers: june!

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disenchanteds · 5 months ago

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okay now ep 2

the wild card is literally they are always starving but they cannot eat normal food they have to chomp on stones and dirt and grass and wood and everything that isnt usually food and each one gives them a different effect (including poison) and they have to figure out which foods actually feed them AND THEN it gets randomised every like hour or so? (they have 3 hour recording sessions so idk exact timing so) and so they start from square one again and there was A Lot Of Death

now so every life series cows are important for food u see but then thats where all the mayhem and stealing happens and impulse goes over to gem and joel to accuse them of stealing his team's cows when they didnt and it was actually martyn but none of them know that and so the next time scott cleo pearl and impy comes over gem says "i dont like you impulse" AND THEN SHE TURNS AROUND AND SAYS TO PEARL "and i dont LOVE you because you betrayed me last season" and just the pure fact that gem said love instead of like for pearl??!? the fact that she just rounded on pearl like that even though pearl has done nothing??? *cries in despair* and now we have gempearl divorce arc

TO MAKE THINGS WORSE bdubs found out that cobblestone wall causes poison and gives it to pealr and asks her to eat it but pearl already knows what it does so bdubs asks her to give it to someone else and she tries to give it to gem but gem refused and did not want to trust her even when pearl said she would eat it with her and then pearl eventually gives up and walks away while saying "i should try this on someone else but everyone else is my ally" BUT GEM OVERHEARD IT and turns to scott who was just standing there and said "wHy would she say that SHES INSANE" even though from pearl's pov u can basically tell that pearl believed that with gem she wouldnt take the aftermath too hard and would laugh about it with pearl and then forgive her while others might not but GEM TOOK IT THE WRONG WAY AND UGHHHH

and then heres more stuff they've said on livestreams

basically gem has been playing through subnautica and there was this one scene where a person breaks up with someone else and says the line "i would like to reduce our hours together. to zero" and gem basically reacts to it by saying "wow i've never heard a breakup line so cold before...reduce our hours together to zero. i should try that line on pearl" head in hands WHY gem WHYYY

and then pearl on her stream said "why are people saying i betrayed gem when she was actively trying to kill my mounders (her alliance team) the whole time and i actually allied with scar for the last episode and never had any actual alliance with gem so really she betrayed me first" and guess what SHES RIGHT. i really need to lock them in a closet and have them talk it out i swear. and during the secret life finale even, pearl literally said to gem "lets sword it out gem lets sword it out" when pearl couldve killed gem with a bow easily and pearl is also better with an axe and has lost to gem multiple times with a sword but idt gem heard it and scar and gem were already battling it out so now we have gempearl divorce. i am both so enthralled but also in pain. save them please

there is actually so much more that happened in this ep but i'll prob talk about it tomorrow together with ep 3 because im sleepy eepy and i have to watch ep 3 that just came out too

OKAY OKAY TOXIC YURI TIME OKAY. gem NO DON'T DIVORCE HER but also I am SO here for it they should get more toxic but also PLEASE DON'T CAN YOU BE HAPPY PLEASE but also YESSSS TOXIC YURI

#z <3 #askbox #gay block people

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i-didnt-do-1t · 6 months ago

Text

Day four of @ailesswhumptober

Painful transformations/body modifications- “you’re a monster.”

all of my friends who know about historical fashion I am so tired and so eepy and wrote this in thirty minutes forgive me

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Katherine didn't want to go to the party to begin with. It was being hosted by a friend of her father's, a rich man, a stern man who allegedly had a son around her age. Who was (allegedly) not only handsome, and rumoured to be kind. But who also liked red heads.

She was told it was a perfect match.

Katherine didn't agree. She also hadn't told Jack.

Realistically she didn't think she was going to need to. It had felt so far away when she had sat up with him on the fire escape last night, especially when she'd already long since decided that she'd work something out, some excuse that meant she wouldn't have to show face. Perhaps a sudden illness picked up from the lodge, or a 'womanly' problem that couldn't be helped.

But here she was, three hours before it was due to begin, sat on the plush stool in front of the mirror in her room, fire blazing behind her as her hair was twisted up into an uncomfortable bun atop her head.

She had to admit the dress she was directed to wear this evening was gorgeous, a new one that a handmaid had picked out for her, a green she knew suited her. But she didn't want to let herself enjoy it. Instead, stared at its reflection with resentment.

It made no difference, how she felt about it didn't seem to matter much, and she was half dressed already, in stockings and underwear and a loose corset that she knew was going to be tightened after they finished with her hair.

She winced as it was yanked on again, none too carefully. Usually, they were more gentle, she was friends with these women after all. They had certaintly looked after her more than her father ever had growing up, older women with plump faces though she wasn’t sure their exact ages, motherly, in a sense; but she knew she'd kicked up a fuss earlier, making their job more difficult. So, they weren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment.

"Right, that's your hair." It was short. "Lift your arms miss, so I can fix the corset proper."

She had to look good, her father had told her sternly, if she wanted to secure a prospective husband this evening; especially a good one, good men were hard to come by. He had told her that they were running out of good men that were willing to take her hand, but that good or bad he would be marrying her off eventually, that if she ended up with someone horrible, cruel, they'd be well suited; that maybe they'd be able to get her to listen in a way he had tried and failed to do over the years.

Katherine, with the backs of her eyes burning, had called him a monster.

Then he'd grabbed her arm as she tried to storm past him to the door and told her sharply to get upstairs. To get dressed. His tone was one she knew not to disobey.

The corset was pulled tight and done suddenly enough to make her wince, she could feel the expression as the strings were yanked on, and see it on her own face in the reflection. Then pulled tighter again. her waist shrank with the movement, the corset pushing her shoulders back and her chest out and her organs uncomfortably into her rib cage.

All at once a wave of revulsion, at the party, at the need to be perfect and dainty and to find a husband or be nothing, crashed over her.

She tried to inhale and she couldn't, the corset was only getting tighter- it was different from her daytime ones- one meant to accentuate and shrink and shape-

"I don't want to wear it-" her voice was shallow. childish, like she was twelve again and not eighteen. A young girl at her father's mercy and not a grown woman with a career, a life outside of parties and suitors.

"Katherine don't start complainin' again. We aint want to hear it-"

"But-"

Another aggressive yank that hurt, that felt like it flushed the air from her lungs. Her hands landed on her vanity to steady herself.

"That's a good girl."

"Please-"

"There's no need for this, you're gonna ruin your eyes."

She couldn't tell if the struggle to breathe was the corset or her own upset, if one was making the other worse. But her shallow inhales were emphasised with a sob that only made one of the other maids, the one that had been stoking the fire, come over and place a hand on her shoulder in some bastardisation of comfort. Her grip was strong and holding her still so the corset could be pulled in her further.

"We just want you to look good Katherine, settle down with a nice man, nothin' like the ones we got."

Her eyes burned. She couldn't breathe. Her hands gripped the edge of vanity so tight she could feel the indents forming in the heels of her palms.

"Exactly," the maid's callused, working hand rubbed her shoulder as the other behind her began to knot the cords at the base of her spine, a tidy bow she could tuck away. "Men like a good lookin' lady. A nice body. You'll be fine."

She couldn't-

"See.” The hands pulled away, a rough thumb swiped at stray tears under her eyes and tipped her chin up so she was looking in the mirror, looking at herself, disproportionate, in pain, lightheaded, waist far too small to be natural.

"Aren't you lookin' pretty, Miss Katherine."

#newsies #Katherine plumber #katherine pulitzer #ailesswhumptober2024

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