#another one I had made previously

[norakelly]

[lyhil]

Nightmares and Dreams that Haunt the Night Commander Harukehn - @harukehn

[spearxwind]

Honestly i Get It now i do get why people build things constantly

[shmreduplication]

on the topic of pygmalion, the version i heard was that our boy Pyg was a sculptor who all the single women on the island wanted to marry him to the point that Aphrodite came down and was like 'hey you need to marry a woman' and he cunningly suggests that he will as soon as he can finish a sculpture using her as his model (thinking she'll say no because she's busy with goddess stuff). She says yes and then he proceeds to sculpt as slowly as he possibly can but eventually finishes because you can't just keep carving into marble forever if you want a life-size statue because you'll wear it down to a nub. She says ok time to pick a wife and in his final cunning move he says the only woman he's ever loved is this statue, so she turns it into a real person

the version on wikipedia is different but it still has that air of "oh i'm totally heterosexual, I have a crush on [platonic ideal of a woman that he'll never have to interact with for real]! it's just that all the women i know irl are unappealing to me" which is a common thread when gay and ace people reminisce about lying to their het classmates in middle school (except the platonic ideal is whoever is a current popular celebrity of the correct gender, rather than a statue like pygmalion chose)

so yeah i love pygmalion but i'm still squicked out by the "born sexy yesterday" trope and loathe the "man literally creates a woman and then has sex with her" trope even tho those are all clearly indirectly influenced by the pygmalion myth

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2024: DESERT CREATURES by Kay Chronister.

Up next! I'm heading back into my Driscoll revision project next month, WHICH MEANS: I can start reading through my Driscoll-vibes TBR shelf again!! I have been promised weird desert body horror (with a side of cannibalism? yikes?), and I'm excited to see how this goes.

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

While Erika got to go around on Dumbo again with her father, August found himself wandering over to one of the food kiosks, and returning with a small box of Mickey-shaped beignets, saying, "I, uh, I take it the children like beignets?"

"Oh, certainly," Wilhelm nodded with a smile, saying, "Dorian, his wife, and a lot of the spooks in the house are New Orleans natives, so even when they're not buying beignets from the park itself, they're being baked by the chefs Dorian's got employed, as well as a lotta other Louisiana dishes. Beignets, of course, are one of the twins' favorite."

"Well, they certainly come by it honestly," the Burke patriarch chuckled. "Josephine craved them quite a bit when she was pregnant with June."

"No kidding! Junie craved 'em when she was pregnant with Randall!" Wilhelm smiled, the two of them sharing in the beignets as August asked, "Do you have any similar recipes back in Ireland?"

"Not so much. We have apple cake, porter cake, barmbrack cake, soda bread...but nothing quite like this. I still remember the first time Junie made 'em for me-she really opened my eyes to a lotta the food of New Orleans, and in turn, I got to introduce her to a lotta Irish food too."

He chuckled a little, still smiling as he said, "Sometimes we like to sit out at one of the restaurants here in the park and sip a mint julep, just to get that little taste of Louisiana again."

"They serve mint juleps here?" August asked in surprise, at which Wilhelm was quickly clarify, "Th-They're non-alcoholic! Which is...good. I'm...not one for alcohol these days."

If August picked up on the subtleties of this comment, he didn't show it-instead, he smiled sympathetically, saying, "I...I can understand that. I used to smoke a pipe when June was a girl, but...

...that was a long time ago."

[chiropteracupola]

hey there, sawbones...

[why yes! the collaboration with @dxppercxdxver continues.]

[crvstybowlofcereal]

this is a really specific vent(?) post. im processing things by putting them in words. its not serious, feel free to ignore me lol

i just want to say that a couple years ago when i was in the beginning stages of researching autism (and would soon realize i am most likely autistic) i was in a relationship. and communication in a relationship is So Very important to me. I would constantly ask how he was (obviously it was more specific to whatever situation was going on) and he would always say he was fine. If I had even the Slightest hint that he wasn't actually Fine (like 19 times out of 20) i would continue asking if he was sure and if he wanted to talk, and he continued to say he was fine. half the time i assumed he meant it and i read the situation wrong, the other half of the time i assumed he didn't want to talk about it.

he ended up breaking up with me because i

"didn't pick up on some things"

"what kind of things?" i asked

"idk, just, things."

and he had been talking to my friend (U) about our relationship, and telling her that i wasn't picking up on things. she got mad at me and we had a "fight" for a short time, she thought i was being a bad partner, and her sister (M) (who is toxic and possessive) felt like i wasn't spending enough time with her, so she complained about it to their mom, who got mad at U for it for some reason? so U also brought all that up, telling me M felt left out. (i wasn't leaving M out of anything, i was sitting with my partner at lunch half of the time, she was welcome to join, but didnt, looking back i think M has RSD and maybe i should have been more direct when moving to a new location to explicitly invite her) (U was also not in school at the time due to covid, so its not like i was spending more time with her over M, which is something M would get so upset about if she perceived it to be that way [she was incredibly possessive of me as a friend and the extent of it made me feel like an object tbh])

U never brought up the issues my partner talked about, because that's how we are, we don't make it known someone was venting to us, to respect their privacy, but it fueled her emotions during our "argument" so i really only heard her being mad at me for not including M, (which i later learned is because M's emotions were made to be her problem when they shouldn't have, this has been a running problem so it wasnt that surprising to learn) so i started spending more time with M, but it was school, and i had work, so schedules only allowed so much time, and any time I was with M (lunch and one class) was when i was also with my partner, but i had other classes with him so i assumed it was fine, but he started drifting away (also around a time i attempted to communicate something important about our relationship, which ended up making him uncomfortable, but he didn't say anything about it until we had a conversation after breaking up)

i was stuck in a place where i felt like no one around me communicated how they felt and still expected me to understand them and do what they wanted me to do

U and i recently reflected on this and realized my ex was a shitty communicator (he and his next partner also broke up because he didn't say how he felt and expected them [also most likely autistic] to... just kinda know ig?) and that she should have gotten my side of the story (she had no idea i was frequently checking on him and trying to get him to talk to me)

and that she wasnt actually upset at me about M, she was upset that people were making it her problem, and she was especially upset during this reflection to learn that M was not being left out at all, she was just doing That Thing again where she wanted me to be Her friend and Only Her friend.

U AND I ARE NOT MAD AT EACH OTHER FOR ANY OF THIS, I WAS NEVER MAD AT U AND U WAS ONLY MAD ABOUT HER PERCEPTION OF THE SITUATION, AND ONLY FOR A SHORT AMOUNT OF TIME, EVERYTHING IS FINE

so basically i went like a year and a half thinking that people were rightfully mad at me and i was too self absorbed to pay attention to other peoples' emotions and i started learning how to read people again (clearly my body language research from middle school wasn't cutting it anymore) only for me to realize i just need people to be a little more direct that allistic people typically are, and those specific people were just being dogshit at communicating, (even for allistic people, relative to my needs)

anyways highschool post-covid was Really Fucking Weird and socially stressful for me

TL;DR reflecting on my communication needs not only not being met, but being far undershot for even a "normal" persons needs and how i was convinced I was the problem because of circumstances

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

i think i've finally come to understand why i'm so bad at communicating with friends 👍 at one point or another i've thought i was in love with every single person i've ever been friends with (for the most part, at least) because i don't expect other people to like me. OBVIOUSLY this is not true but platonic feelings are not dissimilar to romantic ones (baseline they're the same: you want to love and be loved by someone) but i always end up realizing that i'm not in love with them, just that they matter to me very much and i wouldn't know what do to w/o their presence in my life. BUT this brings me to facet number 2 of my awful communication skills: i hate it when things Get Real. i find myself retreating any time it seems like Something Could Change in my day-to-day life due to them being around and "forcing" the change. i run away from talking to one of my only irl friends on almost a daily basis bc i dread the idea of having to do anything she might want me to do. i think, at the end of the day, my problem might just be that i don't want to change... ANYWAYS

[ariadventures]

Every time I’m in Houston, I stop by an Asian bakery to bring back fun and fancy breads before I head to the airport. Our cashier was trans. On the drive home, my mother expressed surprise, and then a moment of silence before her next carefully worded sentence. “In this world, people take different paths to reach their own happiness.” Sometimes I think she’s close to understanding it and it gives me false hope

[xx-obliviousfantasy-xx]

"I live in blissful ignorance about whatever the fuck This is about" is me bc wtf is this??? 😅

Honestly, I've had more damage done to me by the alarms my parents/family had over the years I grew up than what I chose.

Like why the fuck did I have an awful reaction the Seinfeld theme the first time I heard it outside of the alarm?!! 😭

Why can't I listen to my brother okay Yonkers anymore???

(There's so many others I can't recall until it happens)

(I mean I won't lie, I've had mistakes before but none with too bad of consequences)

My MISTAKE was definitely actually my RINGTONE AND NOTIFICATION SOUNDS!!!!

I should not be sitting down to watch my favorite show/movie only to pause it, frantically pull out my phone and then realize "O h"

AND I SHOULD NOT BE GETTING TRICKED BY TIK TOKS USING THE SAME SOUND BITES!!!!

Hey kids here's a piece of actual for real experienced adult advice: don't make songs you like your alarm. Ever. You're gonna Pavlov yourself into hating it or sleep through it and have weird dreams. Don't do that to yourself. Seriously.

[thephantomsdream]

"If you keep staring at me like that, I'll have to ask you what are we?" Imagine being the witness of a serious crime, but the team thought you were involved somehow and needed to rule you out. Cue to big, scary, mysterious, masked Ghost trying to intimidate you by existing near you.

Soap snorts and pats Ghost on the back, which earns a glare from him, all after the man blinked confused. He had pretty eyes. Gaz moves to a corner to smile way too much, and Price sighs loudly.

After a few more minutes of explaining that you were just on your way to your shitty job and that they needed to wrap this up before you are to inevitably getting fired, Ghost still looks straight into your soul, now with more intensity somehow.

At this point, you grit your teeth. You might legit not have a job after this, since you're already half an hour late, and this (weirdly cute) fucker is trying to read your thoughts.

"Oh, you're really into me, aren't you?" He blinks seemingly uninterested and you raise a brow at him, starting a staring contest until Price (as he previously introduced himself) got in between you two.

"I don't think you understand the situation that you're in." It took all of your will to not groan like a child and roll your eyes at him.

Cue to another round of you doubling down and explaining that you're extremely lame but a good person, all while Gaz still looks you up.

"She might be telling the truth, boss." He whispered to Price in the corner of the abandoned shop they broke onto to have some privacy. The man has been trying to confirm your identity all this time, meanwhile you looked up at your number one fan to say "I told you so" and gave him an exasperated sigh when you already caught him intensely staring into your eyes.

"Seriously..." You mutter and you almost believe seeing a crinkle of amusement in his eyes. Your eyes almost twitched. "I pronounce us husband and wife." You say, rolling your eyes at him. Yeah, take that, fuck-face. You childishly thought, absolutely thriving at his slow, surprised blink. Soap cackled and tried to hide it with a cough.

Long story (not) short, you were indeed let go after Gaz confirmed you're broke, lame and basic. No secret villain or anything. After they kinda apologized, Price basically tried to gaslight you into thinking everything is fine then tried to dip his toes into mansplaining the importance of greater things beyond you, he nodded to himself and patted you on the back before barking an order to his soldiers to move. Pretty brown eyes stayed glued onto your soul until you were pretty much skipping away out of sight, rushing to your job incredibly annoyed.

You couldn't really explain your absence to your boss and he didn't care much either, he told you to get to work.

Surprise, surprise, though, because at the end of your shift, he sugarly informed you that you're fired. He gave you the pay he owed you and there you were. Jobless. And probably homeless in a month's time.

A week later and some intense job hunting done, you're at your wit's end, truly. Job market is shit and nobody is looking to hire. As you enter your ratty apartment, you sigh and almost want to cry in frustration. You've been cursing the terrorists, soldiers and any motherfucker involved in last week's incident, entering your kitchen to grab a drink and eat some air since you needed to save money, when you froze in place.

In the middle of your tiny living room stood a massive dark frame, the outside lights shining through the balcony door behind him made the man unrecognizable. You were getting robbed. You just caught a dude right in the middle of robbing you. As if it was the cherry on top, every frustration you felt erupted out of you, and while you were still terrified by the massive frame, you growled a "Get the fuck out of my house."

A deep chuckle was your only response and you felt dread.

"You got spunk. And a shit survival instinct." He stepped closer. You stepped back immediately, calculating your route to the door, hoping he wouldn't be able to catch you. Denial. You knew. But you froze again in surprise. You knew that mask.

"What the fuck are you doing in my house?" It came more of a whisper, thinking you'd never meet those people again. Even standing up in front of him, he's massive. Maybe he came back for those dumbass comments you made. Oh, this is revenge, isn't it? He's built, he can legit destroy you with a punch. Oh, God, you're fucking dead. They still think you're a terrorist or some shit and he's here to destroy you out of existence.

Your mind rambled until he moved, and when he did, you tensed, mind blank. The man, the Ghost took a couple of steps towards you and placed his large hand on the back of your neck, pulling you close. Oh, you're gonna fucking die for sure. He leaned down to your eye level, making you stare into his dark eyes as he studied you.

"Came back to take care of my wife." He said. It was your turn to slowly blink at him. What?

[determinate-negation]

im making this post for @wafans-blog because she is trying to reach the goal of 80k by sunday august 18 in order to evacuate her sister and brothers families who are trapped in gaza. wafa went to egypt before the war for medical treatment and has been separated from her family since and is extremely worried about them.

throughout my life ive read so many historical stories about jewish refugees from nazi germany where peoples families were separated and never saw each other again despite searching for years after the war, people who were deported to their deaths a day before they were planning to escape, people who acquired the right papers just after it became useless for them anyways, people whos lives depended on the whims of strangers, border guards, officials, workers, passerbys- on whether they would choose to help someone or do nothing. the actual difference between life and death made into completely arbitrary decisions that are out of the control of those suffering, for the most part. this is the type of existential situation that is created when a people are targeted for destruction, like in the genocidal war israel is waging on gaza right now. i cant help but think about everything ive been told about history since i was young when i see what is happening in gaza today. i dont want that to happen to anyone else.

wafa told me earlier today that the situation now is gaza is getting worse and worse for her family members. the other day they were forced to evacuate at 1am and sleep on the street, leaving behind everything they had in their tents because of another idf bombing on areas previously deemed "safe." they have a young infant, salem, with them who was born during the war and has only been exposed to suffering and devastation. salem is sick right now and theres very little access to medicine or any of the resources that a newborn baby needs. its really urgent that they raise enough money to register them for evacuation so they can join wafa in egypt when the border opens soon, god willing.

out of so many arbitrary decisions that life is reduced to under the conditions of a genocide, one of the less arbitrary ones is that anyone on here, especially those in the west who likely have a higher income in a stronger currency than non-westerners, could help someone today escape death.

i really implore people to donate. especially if you have a degree of disposable income or economic security– consider your life circumstances and how much you can actually afford to give to help save something that really can not be monetarily quantified, which is human life. please donate to this campaign and help reach its goal. if you cant donate, share this with someone who can.

$65,035 raised of $80,000

[kyseya]

You reap what you sow

Yandere farm brothers x f.reader

—————-

Just your typical luck, your car had suddenly broken down in the middle of nowhere. What will you do now? You can’t stay there, there’s no food or water available. Luckily, you hadn’t run out of recourses just yet but it was very close to being gone.

You stepped out of the car and went around it, staring it down with waves of irritation rolling off you. You tried coming up with a plan. The next stop was miles away and it was nothing but a daydream that you’d be able to make it there on foot.

Right as you were about to give up and let the animals take you, the sound of wheels on gravel caught your attention. Turning around, you saw another car speeding towards you. Yes! You were saved! You waved at the person in the car and luckily enough it stopped. ‘I’m gonna pray it’s not Michael Meyers lost cousin or something.’

The door to the passenger side opened and you spotted a man sitting behind the wheel. He was young, around your age, probably a little older perhaps. He had dark brown hair and equally dark eyes. You instantly noticed a scar below his left eye as you glanced at his face. You had to admit, he was very handsome; in a rugged type of way. You couldn’t help but eye how his plain shirt hugged all the muscles on his body. You mentally slapped yourself, ‘Geez (Y/n), you’re here to ask for help not ogle him like the last piece of cake at the party!’

“Your car broke down?” He asked, looking at the worthless piece of junk that had decided to betray you just minutes ago.

“Yeah, it did.” You scratched the back of your head in slight embarrassment. “I couldn’t trouble you for a ride, could I?” He was quiet for a moment, in which you hastily added, “Not for long! Just so I can get proper help from a mechanic. I won’t be a bother I promise.”

The man nodded. “Alright then, hop in.”

Your eyes lit up at his response. You gladly took a seat beside him and thanked him again for his help. “Thank you so much. You’re literally saving my life.”

He nodded once more. Guess he wasn’t much of a talker. Well not that it mattered much. You’d only stick around until you got to a town and found someone who could fix your vehicle. You didn’t have to be all buddy-buddy with each other. You only had to be happy he didn’t seem to want to kill you and hang your organs like Christmas ornaments. The chance of you meeting again was down to basically zero.

Or that’s what you thought, but life has a funny way of messing with you. It must have a grudge against you or else you wouldn’t be seated in the same position you were previously, only it being about 3 hours later. The drive to the nearest town was long(you definitely wouldn’t have made it by walking) and when you got there, you found out the one mechanic they had was out of town.

You thought you were going to have to spend the night in a bush, but you were pleasantly surprised to have your muscular helper offer a nights stay at his farm. You were grateful(once more) and also confused. Why was he being so nice to you when he didn’t have any reason to? It didn’t make sense. The two of you had just met, plus that you’ve only spoken a number of times and none of the conversations were noteworthy.

It was after you accepted you got to know his name, Weston. It fit him quite well, you thought. He told you there was a spare room you could use. It would be further away from his, to offer you some sort of privacy. He also mentioned there was one other person living on the farm, his younger brother. If he annoyed you, you could just tell him off, Weston said to you.

Your butt was sore from all the sitting, both in your own car but also from this little trip. The sky darkened and the sun had nearly completely disappeared when you finally arrived at the farm. It looked like you imagined. There was a large house which you assumed was the main house. Behind it was a big, red barn. You thought you could hear the faint sounds of animals.

Climbing out of the car, you glanced expectantly at your host, waiting for his initiative. You didn’t want to be rude and march right up to the house. As you were waiting, another figure came into view. He was much like his older brother, with brown hair and eyes to match. He was smiling at the both of you, although you caught a slight suspicion towards you.

“Who’s the new kid?” He asked his sibling, who gave him a rundown of what’s happened. You were a bit annoyed at how he called you ‘kid’, you were very much a grown person. And he’s one to talk, you were sure he was younger than you, even through all that brawn. He wasn’t as tall as Weston but he was no joke either. The younger brother looked at you with sympathy, “Really? Well that’s unfortunate. What’re you gonna do now that the mechanic’s gone- since you need him I’m guessing you don’t exactly know how to fix cars.”

You sighed, “I’m not sure yet. I’ll come up with something tomorrow. I’m too tired from all the driving and thinking.”

“Alright, I get it. I’m Lucas by the way.”

You shook his hand. “(Y/n), and thank you for having me. You’re really saving me here.”

“Haha, well Weston likes to pretend he’s heartless, but he’s really just a giant teddy bear.” Lucas said and smirked as he received a glare from the ‘teddy bear’.

“Come in (Y/n), I’ll show you your room.” Weston led you into the house.

Right as you stepped over the threshold, you felt a slight chill. Something felt wrong. You turned around to see Lucas’ beaming face. He tilted his head in confusion.

“Everything good?” He asked, concern lacing his voice. You’d gotten the impression that he’s a chill guy, but now you started wondering if you’d made the wrong choice.

“N-no, everything’s great!”

There was no turning back now, you thought as you descended deeper into the house.

It was unfortunate that every time you followed one of the brothers into town again, for supplies and other things, the mechanic was never there. Sadly it seemed like his vacation wasn’t over yet which meant no way home for you. However, you didn’t have it so bad. The brothers had been kind enough to let you keep staying with them at their farm.

Honestly it was pretty good there. Sure, it wasn’t what you were used to, but some change of scenery was good for you. Not wanting to appear lazy, you helped them to the best of your ability around the farm. You couldn’t lift heavy things like they could even if you really put your back into it, and you certainly didn’t trust yourself to milk the cows; something you could do was cook! It’d become a routine for them to do their work during the day and you’d make them lunch and then dinner in the evenings. You’d never seen yourself as a homemaker, though this was kind of fun. Maybe it was the heat poking your brain or it was that you genuinely enjoyed their company.

Besides, it was really nice looking out the kitchen window and catching a glimpse of them at work. You weren’t proud, but it did something for you. The way droplets of sweat ran down their backs, not in a gross way though, in an appealing manner. During the instances they took of their shirts, you got a front row seat to see the muscles in action. You now knew Lucas had stone-hard abs and that Weston had a very nice back.

Despite the fun in getting to know both of them individually, there were some things you couldn’t deny making you uncomfortable. For example, there was the curfew. That one had a good explanation; there were wild animals sometimes running around and they didn’t want you to get hurt. That made perfect sense! Though you couldn’t shake off that one time you couldn’t sleep and had gone outside on the porch for some air. You were just relaxing and looking at the bright stars when shouting woke you up more than your insomnia. Lucas had come rushing towards you in panic. He’d frantically asked you what you were doing up. You responded honestly and he slowly calmed down. He said you shouldn’t go out by yourself anymore. If you can’t sleep you can see the stars perfectly from the living room window, or better yet, you can come to one of their rooms instead.

Then there was the room furthest back in the barn. Although it could be excused as well, they told you that’s where they slaughtered the animals. But you could swear you heard something from inside, something that doesn’t sound at all like a cow, a pig or a chicken. Suspicion arose in you, but fear held you in a chokehold and prevented you from investigating. However nice they were to you, there was no way you’d risk pissing them off. Especially since the mechanic still wasn’t back which meant you had no way to escape, if it would be necessary.

Lucas had been right, Weston wasn’t as scary as he seemed in the beginning. Sure, he was a bit rough around the edges but he had sweet moments too. Once during one of your little adventures on the porch, Weston had suddenly appeared by your side, giving you a scare. He apologised and asked why you were out. You were worried he would get angry considering you’d just recently had the ‘no more going out’- conversation with Lucas. To your surprise he chuckled at your nervous demeanor and did not reprimand you. He told you that in his opinion, Lucas was too paranoid for his own good and sometimes didn’t know when to stop. You don’t have to walk on eggshells, though you probably shouldn’t wander off the porch after dark. Better to be safe than sorry, right? Afterwards he declared he’s going to bed before wrapping you in a blanket, you didn’t even notice he had it with him until he turned you into a burrito. He was very sweet in his own way, you realised. From then on you paid more attention to the affection he undoubtedly showed. Sometimes it was hard to see, but it was definitely there.

Lucas on the other hand was more open with his affection; pulling you into hugs, asking about your day, petting your hair. All these thing he did daily. He, too, was incredibly sweet. Sometimes it was hard to comprehend that him and Weston shared DNA. They were so different. The only thing confirming their relation was little things how their eyes lit up the same way or how their smiles were similar(if you were fortunate enough to witness Weston smiling, that is). Lucas also had a protective streak. He constantly worried over your safety and wellbeing. Which was kind of nice, when he wasn’t nagging you about it every five seconds.

You better listen to them. It’s all for your best. Because if you don’t, you might end up walking into the barn, and then you might end up finding the remains of the mechanic you’ve been so desperately looking for. And that wouldn’t be very good now, would it?

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Villain!Ghost x Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Synopsis: Your husband wants your company..

A/n: GUYS OMG, I know it's been 1 month and a little more since my last official work. I've been procrastinating on this for so long since I only have less than a week till school again.. Also everyone I love on this app is just disappearing, like @ghost-cyphera just deleted her account 4 days ago and I got the notif but didn't see it in time, I didn't even get to say goodbye. Just wanted to apologize to you guys after being gone for so long as well. Also, another villain!Ghost drabble? 👀

Finding it difficult to walk was one of the least things you've suspected you'd be concerned of upon conceiving, always needing your handmaiden's help in such a mundane task was shameful to say the least but your husband insisted.

If it hadn't been the hand maiden then it would've been him instead, you couldn't keep him from his duties from the kingdom as he carried even yours. Wanting you to turn your attention to the health of the babe growing in you and especially yourself..

"My lady.." you were pulled out of your thoughts by the voice of your handmaiden. You took in a breath from the cool air that blew on your face as you stood by the stone railing..

"Yes, Leticia?" You turned to her..

"The prince consort has requested your company.." Leticia announced, you nod as you removed your hand from the cold stone. You glanced once more to the people of your kingdom, going about their day and life before gently lifting yourself off from leaning on the stone.

Leticia offered you her arm to help you walk more efficiently..

...

"You sent for me..?" You asked your husband, he was sat and signing another set of documents and scrolls. You closed the door, palms gently pushing till you heard it click.

"No, I told them to announce my arrival to you. How dare they exert my wife by giving her false instructions.." he huffed to which you laughed. He wouldn't do anything violent about it, as he so usually does with staff that don't comply but he knew it'd upset you if anything gory were to happen to them.

"I am quite alright, I need to move around too. It's proven to be good for our child." You said, sitting next to the graciously comfortable chair next to his working desk that he had someone make for you.

You felt relief from the pressure previously on your back, hand on the bump of your stomach and with that a sigh came from your lips. Peacefully watching your husband, the sound of the satisfying scratching of the quill on the crisp papers.

You felt his hand grasp yours, he pulled it, lips resting on the back. His affection made your heart beat faster and he felt it, the pad of his index finger on your wrist. The thumping made him chuckle as you smiled and leaned your head on his shoulder.

"You should rest for a while, my love. You'd work yourself to sickness at this point." You kiss his cheek softly. He put his quill down, "If that's my wife wants.." he said.

He wrapped his arm around you, the other hand placed on your baby bump. His thumb gently rubbing, you jolted a bit feeling a strong kick..

It made you groan, how restless the rascal is. Your husband adjusted his hand to feel the next kick.. he'd swear it was a girl, not that he'd care for that sort of thing. He'd kill for them either way, especially for you. He could stare at you all day, swollen with his child.

How glowing you looked wrapped in the finest silk and the gold and jewels in your hair and body clicking upon contact with another piece, he wished he could tell you how utterly speechless you'd leave each man by just walking passed them but to him no word is enough to describe you.

At least he could spend these small intimate moments with just you and you alone, free of the world for even just a few minutes as he needed a break from the work he very much was eager to do to be able to receive praise from his wife..

My CoD Masterlist

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[planetsage]

FHUCK MEEEE i need like semi-public sex with dom!choso he’s like on my mind 24/7 uhm

NEW PIN ! ꒰ 🪴 PUT THAT PUSSY ON ME𖧧˚⋆ʚɞ ── choso kamo 𝜗𝜚

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contains. 2k words + nsfw so, minors do not interact. f!reader, dom!cho, boxer!cho, established relationship, blood, sweat, semi public sex, locker room sex, f rec oral, a little ass eating (if you squint), spit, hair pulling, dirty talk, breeding, overstim, creampie, biting, cum eating.

all big-time boxers practice abstinence for at least a week before their fights; an age-old tradition that’s been torched down from talent to talent said to preserve testosterone, aggression, and most importantly, the drive to win.

it makes sense. not only on the physical side of things, but mentally. discipline — “if a player can’t handle a month or 20 days without having relations, then he’s not really ready to be a professional.”

although choso knew of this prior to becoming a fighter, his coach never actually brought it up to him until you were sat with big child-like eyes, pupils dilated as if trying to drink in every little detail, watching your amateur boyfriend practice for the first time.

it felt like a world of its own with choso sitting atop it on a blood-stained throne. the smell of leather and sweat suffused through the large dome-shaped gym, dull thuds and thumps of fists hitting bags, feet screeching sounding over music.

shirtless, choso’s muscles pumped and flexed as glossy sweat trickled down his temples, merging into rivulets that traced the contours of his face before dripping off his chin and down, down, down his battered body; each quick movement sent salty droplets flying, making dark, little circular marks on the mat.

his arms and core clenched, causing his thick biceps to swell, veins prominent beneath flushed skin like flowing riverbeds; his abs rippling with every rapid punch. the rigid meat of his heavy thighs bulged through black nylon shorts as he hopped around fluidly. dancing. it was truly hypnotic.

about halfway into his practice, you found yourself slightly tilting your head to the side in confusion as his coach moved to point at you.

me?

choso seemed annoyed, running a taped hand through his sweat-ridden hair. then he nodded before they both dispersed to start another round of sparring.

“he said i can’t fuck you anymore”

choso’s wet body clung tightly to your previously dry one, making a sticky connection as he squirted a stream of electrolyte-mixed water from a bottle he clutched with thick hands into his scarred mouth. his usually pink lips were a little red. swollen and plumped, making them jut out, begging to be kissed by your softer ones.

and he was exhausted, visibly. his body sagging when he practically mounted you as soon as he finished practicing, the musky, almost primal scent emitting from him filling your senses in a heady wave as he whined and pouted over his coach’s orders when you asked what had been said earlier, handing him a fresh towel.

“he went full authoritarian on me,” he roughly scrubbed his flushed face with the cloth before dragging it over and around his arms, then abs letting the cotton soak up his sweat, “said we can’t do anything … its so stupid, i’ve done research on it, y’know. it’s a myth”

he rambled on and on, his voice soaked in frustration, bringing up the hundreds of articles he scoured. the way he animatedly swung his arms around, bloodied lip, and still damp with sweat, made you giggle.

you leaned in to gently press a kiss to the corner of his lips. “hey, it’s okay,” you hummed soothingly, contrasting his outburst, “it’s only just before a fight. it can’t be that bad, right?”

and it wouldn’t be.

if choso’s feelings for you didn’t border obsession. he physically can’t go over a day without stuffing your pussy full of his gooey cum and he’d be dammed if some dumb ‘tradition’ that lacked the backing of science stopped him from fucking his pretty girl.

so here you are. embarrassingly parting your sticky folds with meek fingers, revealing your glossy pussy to eager, purpled eyes in the dim back corner of a stuffy locker room.

approximately … thirty seven minutes until choso’s fight.

after a verbal beating from his coach, he was, unwillingly, forced to abstain; forced to spend weeks on edge around you, to not so much as brush a finger against your soft skin because he’d get hard and shoot out hot cum untouched. and he was so close to being successful, too, but he swore he’d lose with how full and heavy his fat balls felt, nudging you into the locker room with empty promises of being “so quick”.

“just need ta taste my baby first,” his voice came out in a heavy whisper as he licked up the fat of your inner thighs, the cooled air of the cramped room circulating and brushing against your achy clit making you flinch, “poor thing .. you missed me too, hm? missed my mouth, pretty?”

“choso hur—”

“shh. ‘m not talkin’ ta you ‘m talkin’ ta her,” he was undividedly staring at your pussy as if trying to commit the filthy imagine of it leaking, clenching around nothing to memory before he rubbed the tip of his flushed nose against your pretty clit, nuzzling into that addictive scent he had been yearning for for what felt like decades.

that said, he was still taking his sweet time.

pressing almost petty pecks to your sensitive thighs, humming out a singsongy ‘aaahh’ before biting into them, leaving fresh pretty marks now that all the old ones have faded. fidgeting on his knees, probably bruising them as he drug his pudgy bulge against the tiled floor until he’s finally, finally moving to lick a long, slow stripe up your pussy, making your hips sputter and buck up against his face.

he’s so loud and messy.

eating you like he’s been starved because, well, technically, he has, “mmmmmm tas’ so fuckin’ good baby. missed— mmhhm havin’ you on my tongue”

cradling your clit with his puffy lips to firmly suck up and drool back out. viscous spit slips out from your pussy, leaving the bench all wet and sticky, so he pauses. because it’s rude to leave messes, shifting his attention from your sloppy hole to drag his tongue on the cold metal bench and clean it all up. the wet muscle brushing, slipping past your ass, making you yelp.

“choso please— hur— hurry. you’re gonna be late” with balled fists you push against his head, musing his inky black hair and if it had been under any other circumstances, he would’ve punished you for interrupting his meal. but he was going to be late, twenty three more minutes and god knows how many rounds it’s gonna take to empty his balls, so he lets you glide all over the thin ice.

just this once.

“fuck, baby, let me fuck that pussy from the front” choso stands up to shove his now tight shorts down to his ankles, his cock springing out, eagerly slapping against his stomach as precum dribbles onto his chest. “always cum so fast when m’ lookin’ at that pretty face”

he wraps his hand around his shaft to move and press his chubby tip against your little hole, scribbling all over it with a hum before leaning to spit a fat bubbly glob onto your needy pussy.

a pretty whine escapes you as you softly lift up your hips begging him to just slip it in, “quit actin so needy, ‘m riiighht here” dragging out his words, he sloowwwly lets his cockhead sink past your folds, whining at how fucking tight you are.

he missed his pretty pussy so much. so, so much.

“fuck, ‘s so big” it’s been a while since you’ve felt the stretch of his cock molding your walls to fit him making tears swell and clump up in your curled lashes as you fling your arms around the slope of his shoulders before you’re shoving your face into the side of his warmed neck.

but he said he needs to see that pretty face, so he’s quickly moving to grab a fist full of your hair, roughly pulling you back by your scalp as you squeal, your mouth falling open to let in and out deep shaky breaths, “look at me”

and he holds you there, forcing you to stare into his darkened eyes as he fully bottoms out to bully his plump, heavy cock up into you. giving you the messiest, most feral strokes. losing his mind in your pretty pussy, already twitching inside you, spilling out pearls of precum that kiss your spongy g spot.

you can’t even moan. just weakly whimpering out broken cries of his name, ”so— ch— cho ssso” as he drags his cock against your gooey walls, his left hand thumbing at your sensitive clit sparking big tears to slip down your cheeks, your eyes hazing over, starting to slip up .. and go back just a little revealing porcelain white, then a little mor-

“i said fuckin’ look at me”

he jerks your head around like some doll; again, forcing you to stare up at him as he knocks the wind out of you with every snap of his waist. and he looks dazed. his hair is messy, mussed, and tossed to his shoulders as sweat catches a few strands to curl up and stick to his temples. he’s almost pink, flushed with so much fever, fucking into your sloppy pussy as he growls, “theeeree you go. ‘m so close, baby— shit. want me to fill that pretty pussy, huh? want me to— fuuuckk pump you full of my cum? hm?”

but his feral growls start to turn into pretty little saccharine whimpers as he gets closer and closer, sputtering his rose-skinned hips, “yeah cho. give it to me— haaa mmm, wan’ it all. fill me up”

“you wan’ it all?” his grip on your hair grows tighter, vice-like, as he mocks your needy little tone with a breathy chuckle, “want me to fuck a baby into you, yeah? knock you up then go knock that fucker out?”

bobbing up and down dumbly, you nod, his words stringing in one ear and quickly out the other because it’s just so fuckin’ good.

he’s pulling you closer, closer, and closer to that edge he loves to dangle you over. “choso ‘m gonna—”

“i know, mama. can feel it. keep lookin’ at me. give it to me��

with a whimper of his name, your knees crash into each other, your toes curling as white-hot pleasure strikes like thick bolts of lightning behind your eyes.

choso’s pulling them back apart and you almost fall off the bench until he’s wrapping his thicker arms around your body to keep fucking into you, “thereee you goo, mhm. look so pretty like that baby” talking you through it so sweetly as if he’s not overstimulating you. rewiring your brain.

“shi— shit, baby fuckin’ milkin’ me .. gonna— ‘m gonna—”

groaning too loud, his hips stilled as he dumped the heavy buildup of cum into your more than welcoming pussy, his head slumping forward to bite into your shoulder and muffle himself.

he’s filling you up so well, shooting thick ropes into your pretty, satiny walls as he pulses and twitches inside you.

but he’s still so hard.

pulling out to wrap a hand around his cock, jerking himself off, roughly, it looks like it hurts, “stick your, haah fuck, stick your fuckin’ tongue out” griping as his chest caves in and heaves until he’s spilling more hot cum onto your pretty fucked out face.

his head falls back, his body swaying slightly as he catches his breath, his muscles relaxing with a heavy sigh until he leans back down to lick up his sticky mess, making you buzz with warmth, twitching at the feeling of his warm tongue. “hhnngg— choso you have to goo”

oh yeah.

he hums, a smile tugging at his lips against your skin before he reluctantly pulls back, moving to draw up his shorts, “almost forgot about that,” he grabs a handful of his messed hair to pull back up into his trademark buns, “i’ll be quick, baby. still got the taste of my good luck charm on my tongue”

not even an hour later, before you can completely clean yourself off and find your bearings, a deafening lion-like roar surges from the full crowd piercing through the thick walls of the locker room. your head quirks up, and then you hurriedly push through the door, almost jogging into the arena.

there he is.

in the center of it all looming over his opponent. the referee pulls up choso’s arm and again; the crowd erupts as the other poor soul winces, crimson-faced, red gloves covering their bloodied expression.

amidst it all, choso’s eyes find yours. he’s licking at the corner of his lips with a knowing smirk.

all big-time boxers practice abstinence for at least a week before their fights; all expect the biggest rising rookie choso kamo.

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