#and the eventual buddie kiss and consumation

[makorragal-312]

Kristen Reidel at home watching Buck be confirmed to be bisexual and having his first on-screen kiss with a guy after working so hard to keep him and Eddie straight and apart:

[dreamdazedworld]

YINGXING BRAINROT

Synopsis: Yingxing x Genshin! Youkai! Gender neutral Reader and the both of them are hopelessly in love.

Note(s): I was listening to 愛き夜道 on Spotify when I suddenly got this idea, now it won’t leave me alone. Anyways, I think that this is the first post I actually wrote, so yippie? Eat up, my children, you won’t be having these Yingxing crumbs for some while. This might actually turn into a full blown fic, though it depends on my motivation LOL

Warning(s): Both of them are hopelessly in love with each other, death mentioned (nothing serious, dw), oops now you have a Yandere! Blade chasing you around Teyvat

Art credit goes to my favorite artist, void/Re:era on X! Their art is really pretty, check them out if you can :o

Imagine a Genshin! Youkai! Reader who’s a fox/kitsune (like Yae), and fell in love with YINGXING, like it has all of the potential fr.

So! Of course, Reader here is from Inazuma, and their… clan (let’s all pretend that the Youkai has separate clans) feeds only on the feelings (and emotions), positive ones, to be precise, of humans (like the dementors from Harry Potter!). Negative ones are like poison to them- And the only antidote for this is the Sacred Sakura, however, there are lasting after effects. Once poisoned, the kitsune will be significantly weakened for a long period of time, ranging from a few decades to centuries on end, depending on how much the kitsune consumed.

Kitsune! Reader, unlike the others from their clan, doesn’t like feeding on humans (because it ends up driving their victim mad and they like humans). Of course they understand that it’s necessary for them to survive, they’re not dumb, they can feel their hunger growing with each day they refused to feed on humans. So, with no more options, decides to blend into human society by protecting mankind from the ‘evil’ Youkai, and occasionally feeding on people who are about to die (with guilt). Their love for humanity and stubborn determination to protect humans ends up earning them a Pyro vision that supplies them with some energy to keep them going, since visions are literally wishes with a physical shape, and wishes have positive energy.

One day, while resting on the Sacred Sakura, Reader accidentally finds out that the Sakura has clones, which are spread across multiple worlds by waking up in the Xianzhou Luofu. There, they meet young Yingxing, who’s still learning under that grandpa, when he stumbles into the area where the clone is located. There, they become friends, and as years pass, eventually drinking buddies as well. After Yingxing meets the High-Cloud Quintet and as years fade away, our dear Reader here realizes they’re hopelessly in love with….. Yingxing!? Instantly gives up on their love as soon as they realize, because they think he doesn’t see them in that light (honey, he does), and to rub salt to the wound, in love with Bai Heng, since Yingxing talks about her a lot. But of course it doesn’t go as easily as they want it to go, so the Reader just silently suffers with their emotions.

When shit starts to go down in the Quintet after Bai Heng’s death, Reader goes “Oh fuck, Yingxing’s negative energy is going to make him choose the shittiest life options, won’t it?” and starts to suck away his pain (by kissing him in his sleep because YES). Yingxing starts getting better in exchange for Reader’s health, and in the end, Reader fucking COLLAPSES, forced to go back to Inazuma to recover, Yingxing learns about everything they were keeping from him through a letter, depression hits and oh wow, Yingxing chooses the most shittiest life decision he has ever made by teaming up with Dan Feng to cause the Sedition of Imbibitor Lunae, turning him immortal, and eventually into Blade. (I forgot to mention it but only the original Sacred Sakura has the ability to heal away the poison.)

As thousands of years pass, Reader fully recovers, though not exactly since they can’t let go of Yingxing. The Sakoku degree is lifted, and everything seems fine in Inazuma, until they come across a person who they thought were already dead- You guessed it, Blade! But not just typical Blade, Yandere! Blade who is on the brink of insanity and is hellbent on bringing Reader along with him. And so, the game of cat and mouse ensues.

[thetommoway-oioii]

Rant Time™ !!!

so i recently became invested in the 9-1-1 universe. not gonna lie I started with lone star because tk and carlos kept popping up all over my feeds everywhere with their wedding pics and of-fucking-course I immediately looked up the show because I'm not gonna pass up any canon queer rep?? hello!! anyway this ain't about tarlos. after I was done with lone star I started interacting with stuff from that fandom and came to find that one of the characters from the main show recently came out as bi and boy oh boy was I excited as fuck. two days later I'm starting my 9-1-1 binge. I knew absolutely nothing about the characters, storyline or the show except what I saw in the crossover episode and I was so pleasantly surprised that there's already canon queer rep present from the beginning of the show!!! (shout out to henren and michaeldavid absolute legends)

anyway I keep getting sidetracked, what I'm here to rant about is how fucking dumb some of the new watchers like me are?!! I had no idea how this t*mmy person was because all I knew was a gif of him kissing buck. you can imagine my surprise when I first saw him in the flashbacks and found out what an absolute dickwad he used to be?!?! and I could not believe that buck was gonna kiss this dude in the future. there was no fucking way. either there was gonna be a huge redemption character arc or something or he'll have a fuckin twin or something cause no chance they're setting future buck up with this asshole.

anyway lo and behold s2 comes around and in comes eddie diaz with this big brown eyes and slutty tank top and of course I knew who eddie was. come on now be for real. I might have not been a part of the fandom before but there's no way you can exist on tumblr and not know who eddie and buck were. and like any other shipping-prone fan, I thought people were setting buddie up based on subtle sterek-esque subtext but imagine my surprise when slowly throughout the show they became deancas-esque obvious. the connection they developed, the trust, the bond. how they found home and family and sense of belonging and safety in each other. how eddie and chris and buck himself baby trapped himself. I was so sure that buddie would eventually become canon in s7 because there's no other way right. maybe the the whole BT thing was some weird profound realization moment for buck or something.

back to the point. what I'm mad about is how the new watchers are completely Ignoring clear signs of buddie and on top of that shaming or right out calling the buddie shippers crazy all the while blindly supporting a character that is clearly a Major Fucking Dickwad from the beginning. making excuses like he was figuring himself out in the past or he's canonly queer while eddie clearly isn't. as if T*mmy figuring himself out excuses him being a shit person or the literal fact that just because eddie has not come out yet he's not queer. buck was straight UNTIL he came out as bi. anyway that's mostly all I wanted to say. yes I started the show because of a BT kiss gif but once I actually watched the show, it was easy to figure out what was right in front of me.

I urge new watchers like me to take the time and really understand and watch the show and not just look at it from face value or consume information through social media osmosis.

[violetsiren90]

New Rules | Teaser

Table of Cotents: Teaser (Prologue); Don't pick up the phone; Don't let him in

Pairing: f*ck boi!Jisung x f!Reader

Genre: choose your own adventure; drabble/vignette series; angst and smut; f*ck buddies; college/post grad

Summary: Jisung has had you wrapped around his finger for the last half-decade. You know good and well that it's time to move on…but you can never seem to follow your own rules long enough to shake him.

*Based on the lyrics of "New Rules" by Dua Lipa

Content warnings: 18+ (minors, dni) Explicit smut; toxic relationship; Jisung is a manipulative little shit (There will be specific trigger warning for each update); For prologue: undressing, kissing, necking, dry humping, groping, fondling, Jisung has been drinking; lots of negative emotions and psychological conflict, raw LUST.

Word Count: Each drabble will probably around 1500-3000 words; total number of drabbles undetermined.

Author's Note: This is gonna be my fun little side project while I work on a my heavy chapter fic! Another one of my attempts at trying new things this year - a choose your own adventure centering around toxic romance. 😈💔🥀 Each update will have a poll at the end which will determine where the next drabble goes. The readers will literally be deciding the trajectory of this story! If you would like to participate throughout the series, let me know in the comments and I will add you to the tag list for updates!

As always, if no one has told you today, please know that you're loved, and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

Prologue:

(first poll below)

His hand finds the tack fastener on the front your jeans, and as he slips it deftly through the buttonhole with his finger and his thumb you feel a familiar chill creep into your chest. One little motion and it’s as if he snuffs out an invisible flame inside of you. And yet, you want them there, his fingers on the wick.

Tasting the liquor on his tongue, you pull away to press your lips below his jaw and against the thrum of his pulse point. You can feel from the force and urgency of his nimble hands as they skirt and grasp your form after peeling away your pants that it’s going to be quick and dirty. It always is, every time you cross the blurred boundaries of your friendship into the realm of carnal pleasure.

It never starts that way, though.

It starts with fingers gently lacing through your own, large pleading eyes full of innocence that dip to your lips and kindle darkly with lust…and then a kiss; one you’ve nearly starved for craving. That’s always how it starts.

But then, eventually and inevitably, you feel it - the sudden shift. The moment he drops the pretense with a simple word or touch that falls like an executioner's axe over the feeble hope that you so relentlessly resurrect.

He lets out a soft little whimper, tilting his head back to bare more of the skin of his throat, and just as quickly as the first flame extinguished, another licks through your viens. You scrape your teeth over his smooth, taut flesh and you feel him tremble beneath you. If just for a few moments, drenched in the scent of cheap booze and the pallid lens of moonlight, he’s yours for the taking.

And you want him, but fuck him. You hate him for pretending to care about you every single time when all he cares about is how you can make him feel. You hate yourself for how you let it consume your flesh and seep into your soul - the feeling that you are the only one who can bring him to that place between the planes of reality in which he finds deliverance through your body.

You pin his shoulders back against the headboard roughly, lascivious eyes drinking in his expression as it contorts with the intensity of his gratification at the plush, rhythmic pressure of your mound over the knot in his jeans. Thin cotton and rough denim massaging one another and at the friction growing damp.

A dance that you've memorized.

Another piece of your being chips away, as it does each time you relent to the greed of his hands and mouth, and a shiver slithers down your spine as his beautiful fingers slip up your shirt to grope at your breast.

When was the last time you felt truly whole? When, outside of the minutes of breathless darkness when he fills you?

~To be continued~

[mothwingwritings]

H and T for Hanayama pretty please <3

(it can be either of those two, it doesn’t have to be both thx 😅)

Thank you bb, I hope you enjoy and that I did our darling Yakuza boy some justice. <3

Warnings: Isolation, mentions of abuse, crying, and sex.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

The whole courting process was an absolute nightmare.

It began with the stalking, his overbearing presence following your every movie. If it wasn’t him, it was one of the men in his family, his influence as a Yakuza boss vast enough that there was always someone available to keep tabs on your movements. When you went to work, someone was following closely behind you. When you were sitting at home, there would be men stationed outside your door keeping watch. It was as maddening as it was terrifying, knowing the ease with which he had acquired access to every aspect of your life. You wanted your privacy and autonomy back, but had no way of achieving it.

Hanayama had told you the 24hr watch was for your own protection, but you knew better.  He couldn’t stand the thought of not knowing where you were, what you were doing, who you were with. He wanted total control over you, much like he did the men he commanded. However your loyalty was expected to be that of a romantic partner-his hungry eyes, roving hands, and forced kisses making that excruciatingly apparent.

After the stalking came the thinly veiled threats of what may occur to your friends and family should you not comply. You would try and tell yourself he didn’t mean what he was saying, that if anything he should want to make a good impression on your loved ones, as your family and friends would someday become his own by virtue of being close with you. But when you were out with your buddies just a little too late, or your parents/sibling kept you on the phone too long, or a particular friend was getting a bit too chummy for his liking, you couldn’t help but shudder at the look of displeasure that would flash across Kaoru’s face.  The fury that bubbled beneath the surface was just a terrible precursor of what was to come, a warning to not leave his annoyance unchecked.

Your family, your friends, your coworkers, essentially everyone you knew, all of their safety hinged on your interactions and reactions to Kaoru. Though you were fairly certain he would never turn his wrath your way, everyone else was fair game. Thoughts of what brutality Hanayama could and would inflict upon the people closest to you at any given time left you a distressed mess. Even if they could fend for themselves against some of his men, what was the likelihood that they would survive going against Hanayama? You shuddered thinking of the blood you’d occasionally see flecked against Kaoru’s white suits, consumed with the fear it may belong to someone you know.

And that brought you to the final horrid stage of this courtship, the isolation. Hanayama had successfully muscled his way into your life, rooting himself until his presence was unshakeable. He never flat out told you that you couldn’t see of speak to your loved ones, making it seem as if your detachment was all of your own volition. In truth, you were just so fucking scared of what may become of them, run ragged by the thought that their livelihoods and happiness all depended on how good of a lover you were to a man you wanted nothing to do with, that you eventually had to yield for your own sanity. You slowly weaned yourself from any interaction with them, visits and phone calls coming few and far between. You stopped using your social media and messaging apps, and always had an excuse at your disposal when someone asked to see you. Eventually even your closest friends stopped reaching out, your social network dwindling daily as more and more contacts gave up on you. It killed you inside. It destroyed you that now your entire life was nothing but Hanayama and the people he deemed worthy of surrounding you. You had lost yourself, your heart shattered by the knowledge that you would most likely never have the life you once had back.  

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

It depends on the tears. He cannot stand seeing you cry or scream in pain or out of fear. Godspeed to the person who made you cry, as the moment that first tear falls from your eye it marks that person for death (after a long bout of brutal torture and suffering, of course). He’s obsessed with making sure you are safe and protected, and if you ever have a moment where you feel even a moment of agitation he wants to quell it as quickly as possible (which is another reason why he quickly decided he was not keen on your friends and family. From what he gathered they were all wild cards with sketchy intentions towards you, and that is not something that sits well with him at. all.).

Now if HE is the cause of your tears (which is usually the case), he takes it very personally. He always seems to misinterpret them, choosing to believe that the reason you are crying and making such a scene is because he isn’t around as much as he should be and you feel neglected and abandoned (when in reality it’s basically the exact opposite). Your frustrated bawling only grows worse because of this, which in turn makes him extremely suffocating with his affection in an attempt to make you ‘feel better’. Whether his dense-ness is intentional or not, you are not entirely sure.

Now on the other hand, tears and screaming that come as a result of him fucking you? Music to his ears. It doesn’t even matter if it’s from pain, he knows you will get used to him soon and all the fuss is just a precursor to the immense pleasure you will be feeling momentarily. Your pained cries will soon turn into squeals of satisfaction, so the wailing does little to slow him down when he’s making love to you. Instead it fuels him to go harder so that the discomfort will subside quickly, wanting nothing more than for you to feel just as good as he does.

As for isolation, he actually kind of likes it. If you isolate yourself, even from him, at least he knows you are safe and no one else is bothering you, causing you harm, or encroaching on his territory. He would be downtrodden if you hole yourself away for too long, but accepts it because he believes this is just you giving him the cold shoulder for spending so much time away doing work related things instead of sticking by your side. Eventually you will come around, even if he has to be the one to forcefully coax you out of your seclusion. You’re an understanding person, and he’ll make sure to shower you in love to help alleviate any lingering loneliness that may still be plaguing you.

[holdinbacksecrets]

I wanna travel with hannie. I wonder what kind of travel buddy he would be🤔I feel like traveling really helps you get to know the person in a different manner haha. like I have 2 super close friends that I love hanging out with but I cannot travel with them lmaooo. I learned that the hard way.

i totally agree with you! traveling with people can go all kinds of ways, and traveling with a SO is on my fantasies rotation lol

ohmygod :( now i’m thinking about leaving with jeonghan for an early morning flight. he was up so late the night before but set a few alarms and let you sleep in while he made sure all your luggage was good to go with your tickets and passports ready. he packs breakfast and leans against the kitchen counter yawning while your tea brews. he makes sure you’re up with a mug in hand, leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder. the car comes soon, and you’re out the door.

traveling alone with you is so different from traveling with seventeen or for any work-related trip. he wants to take care of you—make you feel safe and comfortable, and he appreciates how wonderful of a travel companion you are. you enjoy a new city softly, slowly. you want to take your time wandering the streets and trying their delicacies. you always keep a disposable camera in your bag and hair ties on your wrist, awaiting the moment the back of your neck is begging to feel the breeze. he loves enjoying a meal at restaurants with outdoor seating, admiring the way you soak up the city with wide eyes and parted lips. hours after midnight are filled with recalled memories, wondering if moments you each witnessed were seen by the other too. you lay in his arms. the city lights seen through the sheer curtains. jeonghan’s fingertips on your skin would lull you to sleep if you were back home, but you feel so alive—wide awake, consumed by the vibrancy you met and the aromas you passed, still lingering on your skin. it’s impossible to sleep that first night. eventually, you’re left listening to jeonghan’s even breath.

every trip you take together deepens your love for each other, bringing even more clarity to the future, knowing without a doubt that he’ll be there. jeonghan would also love having you travel to abroad seventeen shows, feeling so content thinking about the exploring you’d do while he was in rehearsals, and using any free time to enjoy a meal together or a walk once the stars are bright

p.s. i love thinking about the gifts he’d buy for his members and his family + the silly things he’d pick up for you and keep until you’ve been home for a couple days and it’s obvious you’re missing the city in every sense of the word. the gesture would bring tears to your eyes, not expecting anything. a few more weeks would pass and your pictures would be ready. you’d live for his laughter over the developed shots

[misc-obeyme]

Could you do a mc who has dyslexic and tell the brothers (and the in dateables please)

Hi there, anon, thank you for the request!

I don't have dyslexia, but I hope I managed to do all right with this. I did some research and tried to include different symptoms and strengths.

Please let me know if there's anything problematic about what I've written.

GN!MC has dyslexia and tells the brothers and dateables about it.

Warnings: MC has dyslexia. Mentions of negative self talk.

Lucifer

You have what? He's never heard of this. You have to explain to him what it means.

Ah, okay, will you be needing accommodations at RAD for this, MC? He wants you to be successful and he's ready to implement whatever will help you in this.

Wonders why you didn't tell him sooner. Seems genuinely confused by this. Explain you only tell people you trust. Now he's touched that you trust him enough to talk to him about it.

Supports you as much as possible, usually in a quiet subtle way. Occasionally reassures you that you're doing well. If you're the type that loses things, he gathers them for you as he finds them.

Mammon

Gets it right away. If our boy isn't neurodivergent in some way, it's gonna be a surprise to everyone. In that sense, he understands that you're different.

In fact, he may even figure it out before you tell him. But he'll wait for you to bring it up yourself. When you do, he's just like okay, no problem, MC. Doesn't make a big deal out of it. Doesn't treat you any differently.

Notices when you're struggling. If you also have dyscalculia or are otherwise having trouble with numbers, he can help with that. We all know he's good with numbers. Otherwise, he'll do whatever you ask if you need help.

Figures out your strengths, too. If you're good at reading people, he'll start to rely on you to tell whether or not he's being scammed. Runs all his ideas by you because you always have some interesting perspective he hadn't thought of.

Leviathan

Also understands as soon as you tell him. He knows what it's like to be a little different.

He's also good at helping you if you're feeling down about yourself. Levi talks badly about himself all the time, but he hates when you do it. Won't stand for it if you say something about being stupid.

If you want him to, he'll read extensive video game dialog out loud. Starts out normal, but eventually gets overly creative with it. Does different voices and everything. It's hilarious and you both end up laughing most of the time.

Will be paying attention to whether or not you seem like you're struggling with something, especially if you're both consuming some of his favorite media. He wants to be sure you're enjoying yourself, too, MC!

Satan

He knows all about it. Satan has read plenty of books about this very topic. Absolutely recognizes the signs before you tell him. Might try to help you out subtly until you tell him yourself.

Don't worry, MC. He fully understands. Please tell him exactly how it effects you, what specifically you struggle with, if you have any accompanying conditions (for instance, he has read that people with dyslexia often have ADHD as well).

He's you're study buddy. We know that Satan will tutor you as needed, so if you need extra help, he's on it. He's happy to spend time with you, going over whatever you need.

Will absolutely go flying off the handle if anyone ever says anything negative about you. Especially if some jerk of a demon calls you stupid or some variation of that. You can be sure the wrath will take over and he'll be in demon form before you know what's happening.

Asmodeus

Has never heard of this and needs you to explain it to him. Once you do, though, he has a similar reaction to Mammon's. Doesn't make a big deal out of it at all. Just accepts you as you are.

Asmo is always pampering you and this is no exception. Tell him what you need, MC! He's ready to help you with anything.

Won't stand for negative self talk. If you start doing this, he'll start kissing you all over your face to distract you. Tells you you're perfect.

Asmo quickly realizes that you have intensely creative ideas. He consults you all the time on things like what he's wearing, what kind of makeup he should use today, and so on. Your ideas are always unique and more than once he's ended up starting new trends because of your suggestions.

Beelzebub

He's going to need you to explain it to him. He asks you directly how you feel about it and what he can do to help. Tell him everything, MC.

Beel also recognizes your unique way of looking at things. Asks for your opinion on anything and everything. He tends to have a one track mind, especially when it comes to food. Your ability to look at things differently fascinates him.

He sees that you sometimes have trouble with being organized and this can result in sporadic meals. He always makes sure you're eating well. He often asks you to eat with him, that way if you haven't eaten already, you will now.

Always there to support you. Quietly stays by your side, ready to help. Not necessarily asking you about it all the time, but he's just around when you need him. Glares down anyone who dares to say anything negative about it.

Belphegor

Listens quietly as you tell him about it. Hasn't heard of it, so might ask you a lot of questions. Wants to understand this aspect of you.

Belphie is really good at being able to tell when you're overwhelmed. Takes you somewhere quiet so you can decompress. Asks you about how you're feeling so you can release some anxiety.

Similarly, he recognizes that your thoughts may be swirling by the end of the day and tries to do various relaxing activities with you so you can actually sleep. If you struggle with sleep for any reason, he's the right demon to help you with that.

Surprisingly aggressive with anyone who has the audacity to say anything negative to you about it. Gets an ominous black aura, Lucifer-style, and smiles in a terrifying way. Whoever is on the receiving end of this doesn't even have a chance to look at you funny before they are running away as fast as possible.

Diavolo

He's heard of this and now he's excited because humans are so fascinating! Tell him everything about it, please, he wants to learn.

Ah, okay, he gets it. You need some extra help with certain things. He knows how that is, he'd be totally lost without Barbatos around. He's ready to do whatever is needed to help you.

He won't make a big deal out of it, but he finds the little things that make you different really cute. If you misspell words in your D.D.D. messages, it makes him smile. If you randomly come up with some creative idea, he's always excited about it. You're just so cute, MC.

Nobody would dare to say anything bad about you in his presence, but if he hears about rumors or any such things, he will take action. Will not tolerate such things happening at RAD.

Barbatos

Yes, he is familiar with this condition. He asks you many questions, though, as he understands that it can be different for everyone.

Obviously he makes you some special tea blend. He invites you over for tea parties so he can serve it to you. Mixes in your favorite flavors, too. Insists that you need to drink it regularly. This might actually be true, but he also just wants to spend time with you.

Asks for your help with baking a lot, too. Mostly because you come up with some amazing ideas that always turn out to be delicious. Straight up changes some of his recipes due to your suggestions.

Makes sure you're taking good care of yourself. He knows that the brothers are probably on top of it, but he worries about you. He knows you can get disorganized and overwhelmed. Checks in with you regularly.

Simeon

He has no idea what it is so he listens carefully to your explanation. Gently accepting. Doesn't want to push you to tell him too much, but wants to know what you're comfortable talking to him about.

Thoughtful about it. Spends some time just observing how you act in various situations and then adjusts his own behavior accordingly. Due to this, he always knows when you're struggling with something. He's here for you, MC.

Good at redirecting things, talking you through things, or asking you specific questions to figure out what you need. Can sometimes overdo it, acting careful when you're good. Tell him as much and he checks himself immediately. Always asks for your insight on things before proceeding.

Loves cooking with you. Reads the recipes out loud as though reading them to himself, even if you don't really need him to. Fascinated by how you can come up with some seemingly crazy idea just to have it turn out amazing.

Solomon

Figures it out on his own. He's familiar with this condition and he recognizes the symptoms in you right away. Might even drop some hints that he suspects you have it. If you don't confirm it, he won't push. When you finally tell him, he nods knowingly.

Due to you being his apprentice, Solomon takes the time to figure out how to best teach you magic. If you struggle with memorizing things (like spells), he'll work to figure out how to make it easier for you.

Will absolutely spend as much time with you as needed to make sure you get all the help you need while learning from him. Magic is no joke, MC, and he's not about to let you get into anything dangerous because he didn't teach you correctly.

Constantly tells you how proud of you he is. Sees how hard you work. Even if you're quiet about your struggles, he knows about them. He doesn't want you to ever feel like you're not good enough. Reminds you of all the things you've done and everything you can do.

Luke

He's never heard of this, but he gets very serious and listens very carefully when you explain it to him. He's curious about this part of you and will ask you questions about it. You're so interesting, MC!

As with some of the others, Luke recognizes your creativity quickly. He's always asking for your opinion on all kinds of things. Asks you to come over all the time to sample his baking and give him suggestions.

Probably not very good at helping with the things you struggle with. Might try to help you with things you don't need help with. Just tell him you're good and he'll figure it out. Once he does, though, he gets better at helping you out when you actually need it.

Will absolutely yell at anyone he thinks is giving you a hard time. Pulls out some of his sass because he won't stand for it. You might have to calm him down a little.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[tikosblogg]

FREE FALL// pt 6

Summary: Roxanne lived her life in foster care, after her parent’s lives were ripped away. Leaving her alone. She’s lost all hope, her will to live…until she meets him.

Warnings: talks of suicide. Depression, anxiety, abuse, mention of death. Please do not read if that triggers you. Smut (eventually) angst.

on the night before my 18th birthday, I stood alone on the edge of mercy hospitals roof. My heart was consumed by a suffocating emptiness. My heart ached for the one person who had promised to be my beacon of hope. Noah.

For a whole year, I clung to the belief that he would come back to the rooftop where we had forged what felt like an unbreakable bond. Night after night, I’ve come to our spot, my heart pounding with anticipation and prayer. But each visit ended in crushing disappointment.

The torture and Abuse from Jamie, had driven me to the brink. Despite my impending adulthood, I had no one to turn to, no place to call home. The weight of loneliness and despair threatened to consume me.

Sobs wracked my body, as I inched closer to the edge, the city lights blurring before my eyes. I whispered a final plea, praying for a swift and painless end.

Just as I leaped, and was about to plunge into the abyss, a pair of strong arms circled my waist, pulling me back with incredible force. I landed heavily on top of a hard body, gasping for breath.

'Roxy, what are you doing?' a familiar voice cried in ear. My eyes widened in shocked as I recognized it. Noah. 'Noah,' I sobbed in disbelief. 'you're here. I thought… I thought .‘ I couldn’t even finish my sentence, as I turned in his lap, wrapping my arms around him tight.

He held me close, his own tears mingling with mine. 'I'm so sorry, Roxy.” He cried into my neck, squeezing me tight. I pulled back cupping his face. “Please don’t. I thought I lost you.” I’ve never seen Noah so emotional. It broke my heart. “I’m sorry Noah. I missed you. I didn’t think you were coming back.” I cried. He shook his head, pulling me into a hard kiss. “I told you I would come back for you.”

For a moment, we both sat there, swaying slightly, my body trembling against his. I could feel his heartbeat, frantic and quick, matching the rhythm of my own. “Roxy, I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with tears. “I love you more than anything, And I need you here with me.” I looked up at him, and for the first time, my eyes focused, the fog of anguish beginning to clear. “Noah…” my mind was racing a mile a minute.

I pulled him into another tight hug, letting out a sob. “I love you so much” he squeezed me tight, before pulling back. He cupped my cheeks, his huge hands almost covering my whole face. He smiled before finally catching my lips with his. It felt like the first time all over again. “Let’s go get your stuff..” I looked at him confused. “Why?” He wiped the few lingering tears left on my cheeks, before pecking my nose. “I’m taking you home.” I felt my heart swell…Noah is my home.

Together, we stumbled off the roof and into the comforting darkness of the empty building. As we walked side by side, Noah shared his story. He had been caught up in the band, and how they quickly rose to fame basically over night.

together we walked down the stairs to where the sleek black car waited below, its interior illuminated by the warm glow of the dashboard lights. Noah stepped forward, opening the passenger side door, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Guys… this is Roxanne. She’s…, she’s about to become our new tour buddy.”

“Tour buddy! I like the sound of that!” One of them chimed in, eyes sparkling. Another one of them nodded thoughtfully, offering a warm smile.

I felt a surge of warmth at their acceptance; it was hard not to grin back. “Nice to meet you guys,” I said, my voice light, “Roxy this is jolly, Nick, and folio” he smiled, as I sent them all a wave. He climbed into the seat, pulling me with him, settling me onto his lap.

We laughed and joked as they drove, the city lights glimmering like stars in the dark. The air was filled with the light laughter and the thrum of music from the radio. It felt like freedom, a fleeting moment away from the walls of hell I had reluctantly called home. The release of pent-up energy buzzed through me as we neared our destination.

When we arrived at the group home, the tall, dreary structure with peeling paint and flickering lights, I felt Noah’s breath quicken against my back. We exchanged glances, and he nodded reassuringly. “Let’s do this,” I whispered, determination shining in my eyes.

“Right,” Noah said, leading the way towards the fire escape.

We climbed silently, the night muffling our movements, like shadows slipping through the cracks of the world. My heart raced as we reached my window—the familiar sight of my room filled me with a bitter nostalgia.

Together, we slipped inside. The room was sparse —a few holes in the walls and a small mattress on the floor.

It felt strange to be sneaking back into a place that I’ll never have to see again. It felt like a launching point towards something greater.

“Help me,” I said, urgency in my voice. We moved swiftly, grabbing what little clothes I had, and essentials, stuffing them into a worn-out backpack. Noah grabbed my journal sitting half way under my pillow, the only piece of me that felt truly mine, we shared a fleeting smile.

“You’ll never have to live like this again.” he reassured as we climbed back out of the window, having packed what I needed in record time. Once we were back in the car, Nick and Folio greeted us with cheers, the mood shifting into one of exhilaration. The engine roared to life, and with a surge of energy, we drove off into the night.

The city lights flickered past like dreams, and for me, it felt like the start of something incredible. As we sped away from the weight of my past, Noah’s arms tightens around me. He laid his chin on my shoulder, his voice filled with hope and excitement.

“Welcome aboard, Roxy.” he said, the sound of the guys laughter mixing with the music spilling from the speakers. We were in this together now, not just them in music but in life. An unbreakable bond was forming under the stars, and I knew this was where I belonged—right here, in the heart of adventure, with my new friends.

[hobisfavoritespritecan]

FUCK YOUR LIFE'S PERCEPTION

TYLER DURDEN X READER

⚠️Warnings: swearing ⚠️

Just a short drabble. Tyler tells you he cares about you. That's about it.

Tyler's cigarette smoke rose up from the end of his cancer stick and drifted up towards the ceiling of the non-ventilated room. The green paint was peeling in tremendous amounts and the stains from water damage were evident. The smoke curled in cylindrical spirals and kissed the chipping paint almost as if inviting it to fall to the floorboards below; which conveniently, were also subject to the same damage from the water above.

You laid in silence next to him, watching the sights from above and playing with the hem of your shitty Goodwill shirt that had been unraveling due to hasty scissor cuts you'd made the night before upon realizing it was longer in length than you'd originally wanted it. You were both in desperate need of a shower and while not bathing might've fit the aesthetic of Paper Street, it did not go over well anywhere else.

Motioning towards his pocket, Tyler silently offers you one of the cigarettes he has. The container itself only held two of them while the rest of the semi empty box has a couple of bloodied tissues stuffed into it's crevices and a haiku from you which read:

"Tyler, that bitch boy, God I love that man to death, shut the fuck up please." You had given it to him for his birthday and was quite proud of it to say the least. He looked at it, laughed, and then stuffed it into the very same pocket he had just withdrawn it from. The smoke was fading now, trying desperately on a fight against the house to find an open window or a vent to no avail.

Taking a cigarette for yourself, you allow him to light it. The drag was long and slow and you felt your lungs fill up with what you presumed would eventually kill you.

"A lot on your mind?" The leather jacket-clad man asked with a twinge of a smile, growing fond of your company over the past few weeks. Ever since he'd offered his services to you at Lou's while you were working, you'd grown attached to him. The night you guys fucked and laid in bed afterwards talking about how soap was the yardstick of civilization and how there should be more methods of shaving for women, you knew you couldn't just be fuck buddies. Your emotions with Tyler ran deep.

"Yeah, something like that." You said, blowing the smoke out and watching it meet the rest of the clouded air above. It was soothing in a way. Almost as comforting as a hug if you liked them.

"Wanna go for a walk?" He asked, knowing that was your favorite past time when you had plaguing thoughts. Sighing at his perfectness, you agree by getting up from the magazines you had plopped yourself down on on the floor. Placing your hands behind your back, you lean back and crack it with a satisfied hum escaping your lips. Tyler joins you and picks up his red tinted glasses on preparation for the outside.

"How'd you know?" You ask, walking out towards the door leading to the kitchen and eventually to the mud puddle infested streets of the lower income street you resided on with your boyfriend.

"Know what? That you were angry?" He asked smugly, walking after you with that confident manly sort of walk that only pricks seem to have.

"Yeah." You said, shivering once your foot stepped out the door. The shit shirt (as you referred to it as) was only making matters worse considering how thin the material was.

Upon your sudden fixation with the cold, your boyfriend took off his leather jacket and placed it over your shoulders in an attempt at comforting you. It wasn't entirely warm, but it would do.

"I feel like life is just getting worse. Everything is a downward spiral and we're all just inevitably spiraling with it. There's nothing to live for. We're all consumed by the media that tells us to kill ourselves. Nothing is right." You eventually admitted to Tyler who was preparing another cigarette from his pocket. Grinning, it seemed as though he liked your response considering how he didn't have to pry the information out of you.

"You sure you don't just need a shower?" He asked, walking alongside you purposely going through all the puddles accompanying the sidewalk you were on. He was strange like that. You were sure there was a poetic meaning to it as there always seems to be, but you didn't feel like figuring it out in this moment.

"Well, that too. But I'm serious, Tyler. Everything is shitting on everything else."

"I agree with you. The world is chaotic and terrible and beyond redemption. Humans redeeming themselves? Forget about it."

"Exactly. It's just-"

"-but there are some good things."

You stopped in your tracks. Did Tyler just contradict his every statement? He's always rambling on about the terrors of the world the unfortunateness of the human condition. It's always the media that's cynical. Down with the patriarchy. Everything sucks. Why was he disagreeing with you now?

"What do you mean by good things?" You asked, genuinely curious by his change in demeanor.

"I say fuck your life's perception. You're entirely right about everything. The world is beyond saving. People are dying everyday and the rich get away with murder. We're slaves to the television. But- there are some things worth living for."

Curious, you give Tyler that look which reads "what are you going on about?" In an urge for him to continue. The puddles stopped the closer and closer you guys made it to town and his shoes eventually stopped making the rubbery squeaking noises of clothing material hitting water. Gravel replaced the mud and Tyler started to kick the stray rocks beneath his feet.

"Like what?" You ask.

"Like soap. Literature. Arson. Bagel Bites. You." He says, matter of fact as if he didn't have to think of the answer at all. He was such a a badass, seeing the world for the way it was; grimy and worthless. He taught life lessons to the space monkeys he kept in the basement of Paper Street. There was no special little snowflake attitude about him. He was solely the most interesting and intelligent human being. From the way he wore his clothes to the way he treated everyone else. The way he smoked and the way he preferred baths over showers. He was always the first to willingly touch the city subway railings not caring if he got sick. He blew shit up for fun. And now he was telling you that you were something good about his life, something that he valued so little.

"You- you mean it?"You ask, reaching for his hand now that the sidewalk was level.

"About what I said in regards to Bagel Bites?" He joked with a knowing smile. "Of course."

"No, asshole. About me."

"Oh," he pretended to think for a moment, "yes."

[lightofthemoonglow]

kinktober day seventeen

Threesome or moresome | Fisting | Vore

Buddy Swanson and Sam Wescott

dedicated to the amazing @bisexual-horror-fan

The head counselor. The head cook. The only nurse. The top three positions of authority at this camp. Kirk, Spock, McCoy, she calls them. Sam is their Kirk, being the actual leader that is the glue holding them all together, the balance between the other two. Buddy is their Spock, the pragmatic one that isn’t as expressive, but there’s so much heart to him underneath that exterior. And she’s the McCoy, the whirlwind with a big mouth and bigger emotions. They’re all passionate people though, the three of them somehow having found a way to make it work enough that people want to work with them, the kids want to come back. It’s easy, yet it feels like it takes over everything when they’re all together.

Of course there are rumors. There have been since the first day they had come together, forming the power trio. But only after the whispers had died down did they come true.

–-

“What are you two troublemakers up to?”

Sam ambles over to the lakebed, where a canoe is parked. Steve had asked someone, anyone, to finish testing out the lake gear after he had needed to rest his ankle after incurring an extremely minor injury involving a gopher hole. Lucky for him, Taylor the crafts counselor was helping him in these trying times.

It's the last day of setup before the kids arrive. In fourteen hours, they'll be here and their time will be consumed for the next couple of months. There will be very little personal time for a while.

"We are celebrating a perfect score on the safety inspection." She smiles up at Sam, languid and slow as she beckons him to join her and Buddy on the blanket laid out on the ground. It’s one they’ve laid on countless times, having been ruined by paint and glitter their first summer together. It’s strange how time has become divided between before and after they met. She’s on her back, knees bent as she looks up at the sky as Buddy sits normally, one knee bent and the other leg flat on the ground.

Sam joins them, sitting on her other side. It's a familiar layout, her in the middle. One of the photos on the homepage of the camp website is of the three of them, her arms around their backs as her head rests on Buddy's chest, though she's looking up at Sam, the camera catching her mid-giggle.

"Kids are due tomorrow. Gonna be the last time we have any privacy for weeks." Buddy sighs, gazes out at the water. He shifts around, his head going into her lap, a place he's familiar with. "And then it's back to the city." He's got a fancy restaurant gig lined up at the end of the summer. As it turned out, one of their returning campers had a father who owned this swanky place and constant talk about Buddy's meals had eventually gotten the guy to call him. After years of sticking it out at various places that weren't nearly as nice, it was good for him to have a win. But that would mean not seeing each other for a while, not until around wintertime.

"You make it sound like you're marching to your death." Sam tries to joke, but it is very clear how he feels about the gang splitting up. He moves to grab a bottle of water but pricks his finger on a burr. "Ow!"

"Poor baby. Want me to kiss it better?" She jokes, but it's not really a joke. The time is now, and they all know it. It's now or maybe never because so much could change in the next several months.

"Yeah. I do." Sam's voice is serious, he knows the implications, what it could lead to. But it's dark, the camp is quiet, it feels like they're the only people in the world right now.

Her mouth is soft, gentle against his. Buddy looks up at them, sort of but also not really trapped between their bodies. It's not for long, because Sam pulls back soon, his lips smeared with cotton candy lipsmackers. There's no going back now, it's like Eve biting the apple. The line is gone, all pretense is out the window. It's at the bottom of the lake, alongside the paddle Steve broke last summer.

"I think I…" Buddy can't even come up with a convincing lie, he knows what he wants and they know it too. She leans up, he leans up and he can taste both her and Sam on her mouth, bringing forth a soft moan and Buddy gripping a handful of her hair.

It's not going to be like in a bad porno. It's not a V, it's a triangle. Their first summer, as if to foreshadow what was to come, she had insisted that love triangle was a stupid phrase to refer to two people fighting over another. A triangle is complete, it's when everything flows together perfectly. Those situations are a love V because two points never meet. Buddy and Sam kiss like they've done it for eons, falling together as naturally as she had with them.

If they leave the blanket, the spell will be broken, so that's where they stay. It's where it all began, it is where it will come to the natural conclusion. It could have only ended this way.

She's between them once again, all of their shorts pushed down, her shirt pushed up as Sam's hands grope at her bare tits. No need for a bra in the summer, she'd said over and over again. Buddy's cock is rutting between her thighs as he spits into his hand to jerk Sam off. She's kissing the both of them as much as she can, they're kissing each other, it's a mess of drool and teeth. Sam's hand goes between her legs, searching for her clit.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Buddy grunts, kissing her neck in between words. "Should I -?"

"No." She doesn't care, there's no risk. Nothing matters right now, and she encouraged him without uttering a word after her brief insistence that he come all over her thighs. The mess can always be cleaned up after all.

But it's Sam that comes first, shooting off all over her belly and Buddy's hand. She's so close and yet Buddy beats her to the punch, smearing her inner thighs and the blanket with his spend. Before she can even protest, a hand from each of them is between her legs and she's coming with a sharp cry that scares away a small flock of sleeping birds.

There's no awkward silence afterwards, merely some smiles and a suggestion that they clean off in the lake. It was always meant to end this way, after all and now all they need to do is wait for another moment like this to come around.

[sophxo2468]

study buddies

16+ 𝙉𝙎𝙁𝙒

Craig and y/n had started out as study partners, but the sparks flying between them had ignited into a fiery passion that neither of them could deny.

Craig and y/n had been study partners for weeks now, meeting up regularly to work on their assignments and help each other prepare for exams. They had grown closer over time, sharing secrets and supporting each other through the challenges of college.

As they sat in Craig's small apartment, poring over their textbooks and notes, the tension between them was palpable. Craig found himself more and more distracted by y/n's presence, her intelligence and beauty drawing Him in.

As Craig and y/n continued studying, the tension between them grew even stronger. Craig could barely concentrate on his work, his thoughts consumed by the woman sitting across from him. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He closed his textbook and looked at y/n, his eyes burning with desire.

"Y/n," he said, his voice low and husky. "Can I ask you something?"

Y/n looked up at him, her heart racing at the tone of his voice. "Sure," she said, setting down her pen. "What is it?"

Craig took a deep breath, summoning up all his courage. "I've been thinking about this for a long time, and I can't keep it in anymore. I want you, y/n I want you so badly it hurts."

Y/n's breath got caught in her throat at the sudden confession "Craig," she said, her voice shaky with emotion. "I want you too. I've been trying to hide it, but I can't anymore. I want you more than anything."

Craig's heart leaped in his chest, a wave of relief and joy washing over him. Without hesitation, he stood up and walked around the desk, pulling y/n up from her chair and into his arms.

They stood there, holding each other tightly, their bodies pressed close together. For a moment, they just held each other, their breath mingling, their hearts beating as one. Then, slowly, Craig leaned in and kissed her.

The kiss was soft and tentative at first, but as they deepened it, their desire for each other flared up like a wildfire. Craig's hands roamed over her body, pulling her closer, while y/n's fingers tangled in his hair, her body arching into his.

Craig's hands found their way under y/n's shirt, sliding up the smooth skin of her back, exploring her curves. She gasped at his touch, her body responding to him with a hunger that mirrors his own.

They fell onto the bed, their mouths still locked in a passionate kiss. Craig rolled on top of her, his body pressing hers into the mattress, his hands roaming over her chest as he practically dry humped her.

Craig swiftly took his shirt off and y/n took that as a sign to do the same. They both removed every piece of clothing left on their bodies, Craig took and finger and slowly shoved it inside the girl beneath him.

Craig added 2 more fingers and y/n moaned and squirmed into the kiss as he curled and pumped his fingers, "Craig I'm close" she moaned out and eventually y/n came and Craig was already about to cum at the sight of her squirming and moaning all because of him.

Craig licked the juices from his fingers and spat on his dick and stroked it a few times, he lined it up with her entrance and slowly entered her with a groan.

Y/n let out a moan and grabbed his sides for support as he slowly started to thrust in and out of her. He tried to go slowly, to hold back and make this moment last, but the feel of her body against his was driving him wild.

Y/n was lost in a sea of pleasure, her body writhing beneath him as he moved inside her. She couldn't think, couldn't do anything but feel the incredible sensations coursing through her body.

"Craig," she gasped, her nails digging into his back. "Oh god, don't stop. Please don't stop. They were lost in each other, their bodies moving as one, racing towards the peak of ecstasy. Craig could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, and he knew that he couldn't hold back much longer.

"Y/n, I'm close," he gasped, his body tense with the effort of holding back. "I can't hold on much longer." Y/n whimpered, her own body trembling on the edge of release. "I'm right there with you."

Her words sent a shockwave through his body, and with a final, powerful thrust, Craig let go. He buried his face in her neck and came undone, his body shuddering violently as the orgasm washed over him.

Y/n followed a moment later, her body arching against his as she moaned out in pleasure. They stayed like that for a long moment, their bodies trembling and slick with sweat, their breath mingling in the air between them.

Craig layed there for a minute to catch his breath then carried y/n to the bathroom to Run a nice warm bubble bath for them. :)

okay this is my first smut so please please tell me if I missed anything! Request anything you want:)

@marshslovedone

[thetistaboveall]

Finding My Voice

Part 1

“Well…well…well it is him after all Zach.” I say to myself in very low voice under my breath. Checking my watch noting the time I arrived to see how much I have left to enact all of my plans.

Ordering some coffee I slip a twenty dollars in the pocket of the waiter advising him to spike his drink. The waiter arrives handing him his drink he leaves winking at me in excitement he winks at me.

Zach takes a sip downing the tee in a strange show he seems to get thirsty downing piping hot second cup. “In three….two…one” I whisper to myself his eyes grow faint, his skin turns pale and he runs off to the bathroom.

Zach stood in front of the mirror bending a bit his hand grasp on to the sink he sighs as his body flinches. The sound of flatulence erupts throughout the room bouncing wall to wall he can’t escape his own self impose embarrassment

His heads swivels go see me enter the room a few minutes later it was now of never for me. Sighing I take a piece of gum place it my mouth chewing away a bubble begins to explode onto word letting it release it hits him.

The gum exploding on his face causing the anger to rise in him, under his skin he is red hot boiling with rage, and I knee my trick worked. “You look quite relived from your little predicament.” I add with an effective point.

“Hey! What did you do to me you dick? Why can’t I move my limbs? Did you poison me or something? Answer me damn it!” He lets it rip from the top of his lungs no answer shallleave my lips except for one. Moving ever forward I place my hand on his shoulders firmly.

“You call me a Dick when I have solution for your problems.” I state grabbing his chin I cup pulling it closer to mine as we kiss and nice. A slow and steady rhythm he can’t resist eventually he falls in to pace matching my movements.

Our bodies suddenly burn up like a active live volcano about to burst on to the scene with a array of lights washing over us we are consumed. The light fades soon after leaving one is in charge and the other a mere husk.

Part 2

A huge crash occurs, his massive weight of body falls to the bathroom floor hitting with heavy thud to his head and he is out like a light. The eyes of Zach slowly stir open regaining absolute control over his autonomy you see unfortunately the man who awoke is not Zach.

The man rises to his feet with a wicked lips all spread out like a Cheshire Cat smile can be seen so creepy to see that beautiful face is in control. The man stares in the mirror feeling a renew senses of control over this stranger he steps to the mirror checking himself out while he digs in his pocket.

He can feel how vain Zach is rolling in the back of his head, shaking my new body’s head fiercely, my pants start to vibrate alerting me to the my cell phone and pick

it up from my pants. It’s his uncle who happens to be one of my voice over idol.

“Hey Uncle Patrick! How are you ?”

“Can we meet for lunch?”

“Sure kid! Same place?”

“Yes! I’ll be here “

“See you soon”

“Great!”

“Asshole! Easy pickings”

“He fell for that hook, line and sinker “

“Mwahahahahaha”

Standing up I begin to clean myself doing all I can to look happy, refreshed and sexy as hell. I exit the bathroom returning to the table I am waiting for my big moment of course I can see that once more the man of my dreams.

Part 3

“Hey! Uncle Zach!”

“Hey buddy”

“I need your voice “

“What?”

“I said I want your voice”

“What are you talking about?”

“Give me your voice “

“Huh? Kid stop “

“I am not kid! Immediately “

“What the fuck?”

“Take my hand”

“Kiss the ring”

“I feel compelled to obey you “

“Kiss my ring”

“Yyyyeeesss!”

Part 4

“It’s a quick exchange”

“Your body and soul “

“I am in control over this entire situation for all of a lifetime.”

“You will succumb to me”

“It soon will be my voice “

“It soon will be my body”

“Yours”

“Forever”

“I love you “

“You love me”

“Give in”

“Fighting is futile”

“Good boi!”

“Mmmmm”

“Aaaaaahhhhhh! Feels so good”

The end

[chaitigers]

Ivan infodump

OK SO i posted my little guy Ivan (big deer guy) and as i mentioned in his post, hes a mix of different characters i've like found interesting and that had interesting concepts that i wanted to explore in a character so yeah I decided to make ivan!

Ivan's like part of this universe im a part of w some buddies and he's like a werecreature (i cant rlly go super in depth w the lore here because i dont rlly know it that well LHDFCBDVLKHB) he was turned into one like after some stuff happened in his life that left him broke so he needed money to like get back on his feet and doing that (essentially making himself a test subject for this thing some scientists were doing) was the only way he could. Heres where the first theme i wanted to explore comes in, Guilt and Debt.

If anyone's read crime and punishment, the main character Raskolnikov essentially k1lls his crusty musty landlady so he doesnt have to owe her his rent anymore which imo, slay, but at the same time he is riddled with this immense guilt and like questioning himself as to wether or not committing a crime and a deadly sin (because hes also catholic so another LAYER of guilt added)

Raskolikov gets sent to prision to like seve his sentence but most of the book is like him debating with himself wether or not what he did was right, because he mrd3red someone that was a pest both to him and everyone else who owed rent to her, and she was a busive and mean so like thats someon no one would miss because she was bad so he's good for killing her, it was for the greater good, but at the same time in the eyes of the law Raskolnikov is a criminal, as well as in the eyes of religion because he murdered someone and thats an unforgivable act and hes supposed to go to hell for that.

In Ivan's case, his guilt lies in the fact that he was essentially the reason him a nd his family's business went into banktrupcy, if he was never born he woudln't have caused much trouble to his parents. He's the son of a violin maker, meaning business is not as big as theyd wish it to be especially as violins are expensive as shit because theyre handmade works of art that only few know the trade of making them and stuff. Ivan obviously inherited the knowledge from his father, helped him in the shop and helped to provide for his own family even as a child, but he still carries that guilt of being the reason niether one of his parents could fulfill any of the desires they had due to him being just "a burden" in his tiny little head.

In the debt aspect, he is quite literally indebted, left with the previous unpaid bills and unfinished projects his father left after he passed, and left with a bunch of customersn his father still owed things to like money, instruments and materials. To Ivan, thats the way he's repaying the hardships he made his parents go through. the family burdens are passed down generation by generation as well, because many of most of the monetary debts came from people of the past that made those bad desicions and left their descendants to deal with them. Ivan is determined to fulfill these depts, at all costs, and eventually that costs him his humanity.

NOW ONTO HANNIBAL!

I mostly wanted to do the c@nn1balsm as a metaphor for all consuming, obsessive love with Ivan , especially the love for his craft (because in the end he loves what he's doing, hes a passionate violin maker) but literally in the way that he loves as well. He isnt that bad looking, at least according to him (in my head his face claim is jacob elordi specifically in saltburn and like post euphoria and the kissing booth) but he does feel like he's hard to love because of all the guilt hes carrying for shit he didnt even do (like be incredibly indebted to the state). hes super inexperienced in love, has only had one long lasting relationship, and that relationship is one that consumed him so much that he couldnt see himself living apart from that person he loved after they broke up. Ivan has an anxious attachment style, always has and hes like a kitten with separation anxiety, he will wail and scream until he gets back to that person he feels safe with even if it means that he's actively pushing them away because of how clingy he is.

all that to say that he ate his ex boyfriend because if he couldnt be with ivan then no one could have him

So yeah that is like almost all of Ivan's story! i love him dearly and rlly want to expand more on him in the future!

[sesame-sim]

Kitchen Confidential (by Anthony Bourdain) + Bourdain (by Laurie Woolever)

When Nancy arrived at the location of the bonfire with her sister in tow, she saw Flip had arrived first. Leaning against the side of the building, he was having a smoke. He looked up upon hearing Nancy's voice. When he realized she had her sister with her, he quickly offered to get Joan a drink and said he would get the bonfire started so that they could warm up.

Despite how much she had teased Nancy in the car on the way over, Joan took her role as older sister seriously. When she saw that her kid sister's first boyfriend is Philip/Sam/Flip Goldman, she felt wary. This guy of several names wasn't unknown to her. He is one year older than Nancy and his time in school had overlapped with Joan's so she knew how popular he was with the female population at the school. At least he did seem to be genuinely putting in effort to make a good impression on her so she kept the mood light too.

It wasn't long before others started arriving. Savannah was the next person, followed by Jeff and Anthony who immediately started being the goofs that they are. Eventually, a good 20+ people showed up throughout the evening. To Joan's surprise and relief, a few of them were from her year in school and were also back home for the holidays like she was so she didn't feel like she alone was playing babysitter to a bunch of high schoolers.

"Well? What do you think of Flip?" Nancy asked when she had a moment to pull her sister aside. "I think our dad is the one who's going to flip." Joan said, looking over her shoulder at their subject of conversation who was now smoking weed. Nancy smacked her sister's leg, saying, "But he's nice though! Really nice!" defensively.

After that, Nancy and Philip/Sam/Flip's were never more than a couple feet apart. Nancy hardly noticed that Anthony was often hovering around nearby as well, occasionally jumping into the conversation with funny remarks to make her laugh...

...though he knew to give up around the time Nancy and Flip started their long PDA session. (Savannah with the side eye lol.)

Hours later, most of the gatherers had headed home. Only a few of them were left still sobering up inside the teen hangout because all of them had consumed some amount of alcohol, drugs, or both. By that point of the evening, with the lovebirds kissing yet again, Anthony was very much like "What is my life right now?" But at least his buddies Dae and Jeff stuck by his side.

BOOK SYNOPSIS - In Kitchen Confidential chef Anthony Bourdain recounts all his culinary adventures. The other Bourdain book is also recounting his life but does so entirely with quotes from family, friends, coworkers.

IRL TIME/PLACE - 1968, Leonia, New Jersey

MY SAVE TIME/PLACE - Sim Year 50 / Sim Day 5707 / Winter D22 / Sun. / Newcrest

POSTS FOR THIS BOOK

SONG PAIRING - from 1968, Light My Fire (by Jose Feliciano)

[niko-mesu-the-dragon-dog]

How did you start drawing/learn to draw? I've always wanted to actually be good at it but I can't really do much more than simple sketches of geometrical objects

now that i think about i think it all started when i got consumed in a piece of media and thought "Hey what if i create my own charcater for this media as if they where from it!" and since then lil ol' me began drawing on a sketchbook, a sketch that i might burn at any moment bc it was from my UT phase and we do not talk about it. that aside my path to where i'm at was rocky af, i was not some kind of extra disciplined kid to become the best at drawing or stuff at that, i just wanted to draw the lil guys that popped up in my brain (and ofc draw my favorite gay people kissing, which were mainly rare pairs so i HAD to feed myself somehow) i also looked up to a lot of artists when i was growing to become one myself and the one that stuck to me the most was Remarin, an awesome speed paint artist from whom i learned A TON of (mostly animal and monster) anatomy. then there's also Seeyouguyslater, aka the artist who introduced me to arknights lmao, and whom i somewhat got my beginning art style from and inspiration. their art style is one of the yummiest I've seen!! def one of my favorite fan artists and it's a dream to commission any of them. ofc there are plenty more of artists that influenced my art to what it is today but they're the ones who struck me the most. and before i turn this into a longass rant, take ur time, those geometrical shapes will eventually become more than simple sketches, take ur time on finding your preferred art style and let it evolve alongside you! Find different artists or ur favorite ones and learn from them!! you'll become more than good! i'm sure of it buddy :]

[kvhaani]

MUSE: CAESAR J. DIETRICH

Date written: early 2021

Short summary of plot: Set in the Alderwood universe. This particular starter begins with Caesar's past.

—in girum imus nocte et consumimer igni.

—❝We enter the circle at night and are consumed by fire❞

He’s lost in a maze of evening fog, mossy rocks, and an endless sea of green pine trees. The sun kisses the horizon, and night quickly descends on the forest. Lost and alone, the young man calls out, asking for help but his pleas fall on deaf ears, swallowed by the haunting sound of hooting owls and bare branches creaking in the wind. Emerging from darkness is a mass of fur and brute strength, staring him down with eyes that sparkle with a lust for violence. 

A coyote. 

Caesar freezes. He stumbles backwards, inching away from the slow advancing creature until his spine makes harsh contact with the rough pine trees. His blood runs cold as the coyote approaches, drawing out this slow torture, almost as if it’s enjoying this. If Caesar could form words, he’d beg it to kill him quickly. 

Its padded footsteps are soundless against the freshly fallen snow. There’s no place to run when it traps him there, like the seasoned predator it is— Caesar knows all too well that he doesn’t stand a chance against its skilful advance, one it’s mastered through millennia of perfection.

The coyote is close now. Its foul breath is cold on his cheek. In the moonlight, he can see the blood on its stained teeth and his panicked expression reflected in its yellow eyes, sharp and calculating. Caesar can’t hear anything over the sound of his own pounding heart. It never occurred to him that he’d die like this— he always thought he’d die peacefully at the age of eighty-something, in a multi-million dollar mansion in the most glamorous city on the planet. More importantly, he always thought he’d carry the Deitrich name and show the world that he was capable of living up to his famous name. Caesar’s aware that he brags about living fast and dying young but somehow he always thought he’d eventually get his act together and leave behind a legacy that rivalled his Roman namesake.

In the chilling silence he swears he can hear his late mother’s soothing voice, calling him her fearless leader, saying he’s destined for great things. She was the one who’d named him after the Roman ruler, certain that the name would bring him luck and prestige. “Mi jefe chiquito,” she’d call him. (*My little leader.*)

I let you down, mama.

Surely this can’t be it, can it? Is this how Caesar Dietrich, first born son and heir to the Dietrich fortune goes out? Not with the blaze of glory he’d desired, but with a pathetic whimper? The coyote gets closer and closer but all Caesar can do is struggle to fight back tears, not born of fear but of disappointment— his father had been right. Caesar wanted to prove him wrong, to show him that he’s more than just the irresponsible boy that always seems to let him down, but now that chance is as good as gone. It can’t end like this. He hasn’t cemented his place in history yet, hasn’t fixed his faults, hasn’t reached the potential he knows he can reach. 

Now all he’s left with are heavy regrets. 

In a way it’s almost fitting that this is the way he goes out. Caesar’s only here because of his own mistakes and now there’s nothing he can do but accept the consequences— it was *his* idea to sneak out of Catholic Camp past curfew with a few of his closest trouble making friends. Just like it was *his* idea to go deep into the woods to have a midnight party where he and his buddies could all take PCP and trip without getting caught by Vicar Dacian. Tears sting in blue eyes when Caesar realises he’d left the cross his father had given him on his nightstand. He’d never believed in god before but now, in a last ditch effort to save himself, Caesar promises to devote his life to religion— any religion— if a benevolent god protects him from this ravenous beast. 

Maybe god has already turned his back on him. 

Just as the coyote’s about to pounce, a hair-raising scream pierces the eerie silence. It sounds like a cross between a shrieking woman and a demon’s war cry, high-pitched and otherworldly. Part of Caesar thinks he’s imagined it. PCP flows through his bloodstream like a poison— for all he knows (or hopes) this entire encounter could be happening in his mind. The other part of him, the one that has resigned itself to its gruesome, miserable end, thinks the sound is the Grim Reaper, here to collect what’s left of his worthless soul, severing him from this world. It’s only when he sees the coyote’s ears flick back, the creature turning its head fearfully towards the sound, that Caesar registers the existence of a third entity in these dark lonesome woods. 

He hears the noise again, then the harsh brush of hooves against the ground. . . then the world slows down as the cowering young man blinks, trying to capture the turn of events as they unfold before him.

A bull elk appears from behind the thicket of tall trees, charging horns-first, straight for the predator and its prey. The coyote decides it’s not worth the risk of being impaled and scrambles from the scene, flicking snow in Caesar’s face in its haste. He watches it disappear into the night, leaving Caesar to deal with the larger and arguably more dangerous threat. 

Out of the frying pan and into the fire. 

The elk doesn’t show any signs of stopping and all Caesar can do is watch as it gets closer and closer and closer until— 

Searing pain, white hot agony is unleashed upon the blond as he screams out. The elk’s antlers easily stab his soft flesh, impaling him and pinning him to the tree. It manages to free itself, then turns and vanishes back the way it came, leaving Caesar writhing in pain, struggling to breathe. He runs his hand over his chest, feeling for damage. The elk has perforated his lungs— his breaths are numbered. So *this* is how it ends— not quickly at the hands of the coyote, but slowly at the mercy of his punctured lungs. *Suffocating to death, what an insignificant way to go.* 

In his final moments, Caesar thinks of his mother, hoping her departed spirit will keep him company as his soul trickles out of his body. He cries when he thinks of his father— despite their arguments, Caesar knows the man has always loved him unconditionally— now his son is leaving him just like his wife did all those years ago. Wolfgang buried his grief and replaced her by remarrying. *Will you do the same to me?*

“Vergib mir, Vater,” he whispers, though whether this is directed to his father or to God, he can’t tell. 

The last things Caesar hears as his eyelids flicker and close are the faint sounds of people calling his name in the distance, though louder, still, is the tragic pitter patter of his blood smearing droplets on the pure white snow.  

*Drip, drip, drip.* 

—

*Drip, drip, drip*

Caesar opens his eyes, exhaling raggedly as he takes in his surroundings. His naked form lies in the gold-plated bathtub, wisps of steam rising from his body and the hot water. He’d made this ritual of hot baths a necessary part of his monthly routine, both as a way to relax himself and as a way to keep him connected spiritually— nothing purifies the soul quite like a baptism.

Caesar takes a moment or two to collect himself, to lower his racing heart rate and to steady his breaths, before brushing slender fingers over two faded round marks between either sides of his chest— the sole imperfection he allows this body to bear. This nightmare-memory is one he’s had ever since that fateful night in the woods, and these scars are a souvenir from his rebirth. Looking at them calms him; they are a sobering reminder of the faithless, immature boy he used to be, the reckless fool who thought himself untouchable, invincible. 

He used to hate the sight of them— they used to be nothing more than hideous blemishes on his skin, physical scars on his body that went hand in hand with the night terrors as relics of his trauma— but they eventually became something special to him.

He isn’t proud of them, but he isn’t ashamed anymore, either; while Caesar doesn’t go around showing off the scars to anyone with eyes, he doesn’t sink sharp nails against skin in the hopes of desperately scraping the marks away. He thinks of them as extra birthmarks, a testament to the naive boy who died that night and the new life that was breathed into him ever since. 

Ego natus sum rursus. (I am born again).

A gentle sigh escapes soft lips as Caesar glances at the time, indicating he’s behind schedule. Curse this mortal body and its seemingly infinite need for sleep. He longs to free himself of its infernal repetition, yearns for the day he can rid himself of all its tedious demands. 

The only dripping heard now are droplets of water falling from perfect porcelain skin as he removes himself from the tub, reaching for the towel to dry his hair. Once dried, Caesar takes the opportunity to inspect his reflection of any flaws in the matching gold-plated mirror. Faultless pale ivory skin greets him, devoid of any wrinkles or frown lines, thanks entirely to the various anti-ageing creams that line his marble vanity. Caesar gently touches the warm skin under compelling blue eyes, checking for any eye bags but finding none. Good. The sloppy boy he was all those years ago would never recognise the fine young man he’s become today; with sharp sculpted features, a symmetrical face shape, and the impeccably aligned jaw structure that took three years of braces to fix. 

An appearance fit for a god. 

As Caesar drinks in the sight of himself, he tries not to think too hard about the undeniable fact that this body of carbon and flesh will dissolve into nothingness one day. Time is his enemy and if he does not adhere to a strict schedule, it will win. What will become of his consciousness then? Caesar’s breathing becomes shallower once more as the weight of his mortality presses mercilessly against his chest, the marks between his ribs searing with phantom pain. Many alarming theories have plagued him since the fear of death first took shape in a dark corner of his mind all those years ago, of which only one is most plausible: if this body dies, his divine soul will be doomed to roam the void until he completes the tedious task of finding another body worthy of hosting his heavenly spirit. 

Humanity might be damned by then and he will have been much too late to do anything about it. 

My purpose is to save these pathetic creatures. 

Humans need a supreme deity to lead them towards salvation, a creator to shape their fates, to forge the path ahead away from eternal condemnation and a perpetuity of hell.

Without providence, without god, evil will succeed and I cannot allow this to occur.

Caesar grips the sides of the vanity until his knuckles go white. He must guide them all towards truth but in order to do that, he must secure his position in this world and ground himself to this earth by any means necessary. The invisible ropes tying his consciousness to this realm weaken with every revolution around the sun, with every death of his cells. Sometimes he swears he can *sense* it's happening. He has already lost so much valuable time— if he continues ignoring his responsibilities, this body will age and age and age until it returns to the dust from which it was created. 

His panicked breathing slowly returns to normal while he repeats a powerful phrase in latin under his breath, rocking on his heels as though the words are travelling through his body.

“Per Angusta Ad Augusta, per angusta ad augusta, per angusta ad augusta. . . ” (through trial to triumph).

I will not allow myself to die. Not now, not ever.

Caesar must find the Immortal Cup soon or risk losing his treasured godhood forever.

He lifts his head up and meets his eyes, determination burning behind those hypnotic blue irises.

It doesn’t take him long to change into appropriate attire for the cold autumn day; a white button up, black tie, and a dark brown sweater on top. Caesar despises the school’s dress code; fitting in with the rest of the regular students feels unnatural to him.

Why should I dress like the ordinary when I deserve to stand out? I’m better than the rest of them.

Despite his hate for the mundane, Caesar bites his cheek for now and dresses in these awful bland colours to serve his own interests, of course. As a student teacher well on his way to becoming a full professor, Caesar knows he must always stay in line in order to gain management's trust. Once acquired, he can put his plan in motion and finally rid himself of these hideous designs. He will dress as a god should: the picture of exceptional beauty and utter perfection.

Something as simple as a dress code seems like a trivial thing to obsess and upset oneself over, but such things matter when one is an esteemed corporeal being trapped in a dying body. He must always carry himself with the kind of regality and authority worthy of a powerful immortal such as himself— even if he is stuck in this unforgiving human form, prone to decay. 

Decay.

“Per Angusta Ad Augusta,” he repeats softly, donning the bronze plaid blazer that ties his outfit together. 

With one final look in the mirror, Caesar sets off towards the dining hall. 

He carries himself with poise and grace, his head held high, but not too high as to seem conceited; he may well be above the rest of these insignificant students in spirit, but Caesar is still mortal and must carry that burden with humility until he gains full godhood. 

Until then, I am but another servant of the Lord.

Caesar doesn’t pay much mind to most of the student body but he likes to think he can tell the unexceptional ones apart from the extraordinary. The insignificant students are the ones who are simply biding their time, the ones who will follow whatever footsteps their parents have taken before them, whether it’s running Fortune 500 companies, working in Silicon Valley, or just living lavish lives on their private islands. These people don’t want to make a name for themselves, they want to profit off the achievements of others. 

These are people Caesar wants nothing to do with. 

The opposite, however, are the kinds of students Caesar is interested in. These kids want to carve their own path, fight their own fight, and choose a direction that will see their names in the history books. These students aren’t like the others; they are an ambitious type that want more than just to take advantage of their last names. 

Caesar’s watchful gaze lands on each of those select few students individually, silent and subtle. He has prepared the invitations and will have Ethan distribute them tonight, the first of the month, the start of their rebirth. He will sound the call to these chosen ones and the trials will begin. 

Will you live up to my expectations? Show me you're worth my fascination.

He takes a seat at the faculty table, waiting patiently for Ethan to arrive. The gentle rain he’d walked through two minutes ago is now an angry downpour, with students complaining about their wet hair and clothes as they step into the Hall. 'Serves them right for being late,' Caesar thinks, taking a bite of his salad and trying not to feel disgusted with himself. He used to like eating before the encounter in the woods— now it’s but another reminder that he’s mortal, that he’ll die if he cannot sustain himself.