#do not not not not feel the need to match length

[leonsgfpost]

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You let your boyfriend cum inside you for the first time.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: DI!Leon (or Leon RE4) x fem!reader, creampie, unprotected sex, wild Leon, slight mention of breeding perversion.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: It's something that crossed my mind, this man has me bad 🙏🏻

Leon feels like he's in heaven, dizzy, sweaty and with his eyes closed, seeing colors. Like he's really floating, and only because he's ramming your pretty pussy with need. Her pretty pussy. His hands are on either side of your head, he only needs his body to pin you against the sweaty sheets. His lunges jolt your body enough to shake the bed.

"Look at you, my pretty girl taking it so good..." He said between breathless gasps, and you opened your clouded eyes so you could look up at him, grinning dumbly at his words. But he wasn't even looking at you, he was watching your pussy open up around his wet cock. Yeah, Leon was getting kind of nasty.

And though he loved your pussy, and every inch of you. And what you were giving him, like the time you took the condom off for the first time and let him fuck you raw. Every time he sank into you, wetly and slowly he felt alive. But he couldn't help but want more, lust for more.

Leon is a greedy man.

You had not yet given him the honor of filling your pussy, of leaving you creamy and plump inside. He would never do anything against your word, so every time he got close he would come out and cum hard on your belly or your thighs. Even though it felt good, I knew it would feel better to be able to bury his dick and let it explode inside you. But he couldn't do it, not yet.

"Lee, Leon-!" you moaned loudly, dizzy in the ecstasy of his cock exploring every delicious corner of your insides. His head slapping your cervix, his hips slapping yours until your skin was red. It was definitely Leon's favorite sight, you beneath him with a sweaty face, your tits bouncing happily and your hips rising to chase his awkwardly.

"Baby, can I-?" he asked, burying his face in your neck letting out gasps that were starting to morph into animalistic moans. From the way his voice was becoming shaky and his hips were stumbling in their rhythm, he was so close.

"Please, let me... Let me do it." Leon's pride shifted to the side, that strong man taking on nuclear monsters was no match for your pussy. He could die if you denied him the paradise between your legs. And you know it.

"What?" you asked, in the midst of overwhelming pleasure and the sensation of your orgasm beginning to form, ready to burst as easily as a bubble.

"Inside, I want to do it Inside. A baby, let's make a baby-" His words came out in babbles, in between wet kisses he planted on your neck trying to distract himself from how his cock jerked inside you, begging for the release he was holding back. And when you were as dumb as he was, it only took his fingers around your quivering clit for you to quickly agree.

"I want to hear you, I need it, I..." He whispered, moving his kisses up your jaw and keeping the motion of his fingers on your clit, listening to you moan desperately beneath him.

"C-Cum inside, I want it inside." You affirmed in that sweet tone you used only for him. Mixed with long, euphoric moans, arching your back. Your center burned around him, his onslaught creating the most lascivious sounds you'd ever heard. Those words ignited something inside him. Finally, finally his little fantasy was coming true.

He pulled away a little, grabbing the back of your thighs to lift them and let out a grunt as he felt your walls tighten further around him. He was losing his mind. His hips moving in a wild, animalistic rhythm.

"I'm going to fill you up so good, baby." It sounded like a promise, you knew he was going to do it. His blunt nails digging into your skin, trying to hold on to something as he felt his dick quivering inside your walls, closing around his length.

"Come on, come on... Come for me, I want to feel you." His husky, raw tone of pure need finally brought you to orgasm. Your velvety walls clenched around him tightly, as if you wanted to extricate his dick. His breath caught as he felt your tight grip as if you were begging to be filled silly.

But relax, that's what he was going to do.

"God, baby-ah, you're tight me so good." He murmured dropping his head back, closing his eyes and relaxing his jaw with pleasure. His hips quivered, causing his to lose his rhythm.

You would look so pretty, your swollen pussy and his cum spurting out of your hole that was a portal to paradise. The image and the feeling of your wet walls around him was what drove him to madness.

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck-!" he moaned over and over, ramming with each curse until potent, strong strands of semen exploded inside you, filling you with as much eagerness as he had wanted. He never would have imagined it would feel so good, so alive. His onslaught gradually slowed to a stop, panting heavily as his cock gave you all he had to offer. His eyes lowered to your pussy, withdrawing only to glowering at his work of art. His mess.

His fingers moved down to open the swollen lips of your pussy and watch his thick cum seep out of your weeping hole. He smirked, lifting his eyes finally.

"This pretty pussy deserves another load, Honey." He stated, beginning to rub his semi-hard cock up and down your quivering slit. Little did you know that you aroused the most primal, possessive side of the man who looked at you as if he wanted to devour you.

Because, oh, Leon is a really greedy man.

Let me know if you liked it, and please ignore if you see any mistakes 🫶🏻💕

(💌) bye, bye !

[pedroscurls]

We all know Hugh HATES to be late at events/dinner or people who are..but what if his girl is a little needy 🥵 and "nervous" 😩 about what to wear?

late to the party (one-shot)

summary: possibly already late to ryan and blake's party, hugh becomes just slightly annoyed when you can't decide what to wear... and when he realizes that you're doing it on purpose, he only knows one way to make sure you don't do it again. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader content warning: smut (18+, mdni), quickie, dom!hugh, light spanking, dirty talk, fingering, doggy style (against the wall), unprotected p in v (be safe folks!), creampie (oopsies!), no use of y/n. word count: 1.8k a/n: once again, this one is really late to post so i'm sorry. i'm slowly catching up with all my requests! to the anon that requested this, i hope you enjoyed it! (btw - i'm gonna try something new with these headers moving forward, it takes so long to pick photos and figured just choosing one hugh pic is better lol). as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman.

“Baby, come on. We’re already late,” Hugh calls out, straightening out his tie. He then glances at his watch and when he sees that it’s already past the time that you both needed to be at Ryan and Blake’s house, he grabs his phone to send a text to them. 

You’re standing in the closet, dressed in a matching black lace bra and thong. You bite your lower lip at Hugh’s voice; you know he’s always so punctual and hates it when other people – including himself – are late. 

“I know! I can’t figure out what to wear.” You can hear Hugh’s footsteps approach you, can hear him let out a quiet sigh of frustration. You have your arms crossed over your chest, a thoughtful look on your features by the time he enters the closet with you. He has his hands in his pockets and when you turn to look over at him, his brows are furrowed together and his lips in a straight line. 

“That black one is nice,” he says, nodding his chin to the black dress you’re standing in front of. “Come on, baby. You know I hate being late.” 

“Well, we’re already late and I don’t know what to wear.” 

He sighs again. “Whatever you decide to wear will look good on you, love. Just put on that black one and let’s go.” 

You bite your lower lip and shake your head, turning your back to him as you walk further into the closet to look at the other dresses you have hanging. You can hear the tapping of his foot and you’re trying to hold back the smile on your lips. 

“Baby…” He walks after you and reaches for the dress he pointed out. It’s a black dress with subtle floral print, a ruffled square neckline and sheer short sleeves. It has an empire waist that he knows will fit perfectly to each curve as the bottom of your dress flows out. It looks like the length will stop right at your shins and he walks towards you with the dress in hand. “I’ll pick for you. It’s this one.”

When you turn around to face him, you bite your lower lip and look up at him. You see his eyes deviate to your body, a glimmer of desire flashing through his eyes before he remembers that you’re both already late for the party. 

“I don’t know about that one though…” you say with a sigh, but the corner of your lips turn upwards and Hugh narrows his eyes. 

“Are you–” He hangs the dress back up on the clothesline and then steps closer to you. “Are you doing this on purpose?” 

“What? No!”

Hugh narrows his eyes even further and moves a hand to your hip, pushing you further into the closet until your back gently hits the wall. He reaches out with one hand and places it next to your head, leaning down until his nose is touching yours. 

“Looks to me like you’re doing this on purpose.”

“I just– I just don’t know what to wear!” you lie, biting the inside of your cheek as you feel the hand on your hip tighten. 

“Sounds like you’re lying, baby.” Hugh brushes his lips against yours, hearing your breath catch in your throat as you gasp quietly. “If I reach down here,” he whispers, moving his hand from your hip to between your legs, cupping your sex instantly. “And if I feel that you’re wet…” he continues, moving the strip of your thong to the side as he runs the tip of his finger along the length of your sex. “Oh, you are wet. How long have you been wet, huh?” 

“Hugh…” you whimper, reaching out to rest your hands on his suit jacket but careful not to wrinkle the clothes he’s wearing. After all, you both still need to attend Ryan and Blake’s party. 

“So, let me ask again… Did you intentionally make us late?” 

You shake your head and he clicks his tongue, thrusting two fingers deep inside of you. Your arousal makes it easy for him to push his digits into your tight heat and when he feels you about to grip onto his suit jacket, he uses his free hand and grips your wrists in one hand, gently placing them above your head. 

“Oh baby,” he growls. “Don’t lie to me.” Hugh pushes his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace, knowing that it won’t take long for you to reach your climax, but just as he feels your walls begin to clench, he pulls his hand away. 

“Okay!” you exclaim, trying to squirm against him, hips pushing forward and off the wall to chase his fingers. “I did it on purpose… I saw you in that suit and I just– I need you. I knew that the only way I could get what I need was if I made us late and–” 

Hugh growls and releases your hands to grip your hips, roughly turning you around. He watches you place your hands on the wall in front of you, bracing yourself once he pulls your hips closer to him. You can hear him undo his belt and his zipper. You look over your shoulder to watch him drop his suit pants and boxer briefs down his legs. 

He tugs your thong down your legs and you gasp, feeling his warm and leaking tip press against your opening. 

“Hugh, wait, I–” He pushes his hips forward, filling you to the brim in one thrust. He’s so deep that it literally takes your breath away. You gasp, feeling him pull out to his tip until he thrusts back into you. 

“This what you wanted?” Hugh growls, using one hand to grip your hip tightly as he brings his other hand down to connect with your backside. It leaves a red imprint, the sound of the spank echoing throughout the closet. It catches you off guard and your walls clench at the sensation. 

“Y– Yes!” you answer, pushing back against him as he delivers another sharp slap to your ass. He lets out a loud groan, ceasing his movements only to watch you push back against him. He looks down at your bodies, the sight of his glistening manhood appearing and disappearing with each of your movements. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans. “That’s it, take what you need…” Hugh releases his hold on your hip to hold the bottom of his dress shirt and tie upwards and away from where you’re both connected. He certainly doesn’t want to have to change, especially since you’re both already so late. 

Hugh feels your walls begin to clench around him, your walls sliding along every inch of his throbbing length. He pushes his hips forward, feeling himself delve even deeper within your depths. 

“Hugh! Oh god– I’m close,” you gasp, bracing your hands on the wall as Hugh grips your hip with his free hand and begins to slam into you repeatedly. You can feel each vein on his manhood, can feel him throbbing within your depths and it only urges you closer and closer to reach your high. 

“My naughty girl,” Hugh groans, the sounds of skin slapping against one another mixes in with your continuous moans. He shuts his eyes, your walls continuing to tremble and clench around him. His thrusts become more erratic as he feels the tightness build in the pit of his stomach. 

“Gonna fill you up,” Hugh growls, delivering another slap across your ass. “Gonna have me dripping out of you the entire fucking night.” 

“Hugh!” you push back against him roughly, your walls clenching around him as your walls tremble. You’re so wet, and already so sensitive as you reach your orgasm. 

Hugh groans, picking up the pace with his thrusts until he slams into you with a loud grunt. He paints your walls with his release, hips stuttering. You can feel his come fill you up and when he does pull out slowly, you look down between your legs and see thick drops of his spend trickle down your legs. 

Hugh licks his lower lip and looks down, a broad smirk lining his lips. “You gonna put on that dress now?” 

“Can you give me a minute?” you ask, turning to look over your shoulder with a small smile. 

“Oh, I’ve given you plenty.” 

You let out a quiet giggle and then watch him tuck himself back into his pants as he makes himself presentable again. You watch his eyes deviate between your legs before he leaves the closer only to come back with a wet and warm towel to wipe the release from between your legs. 

Hugh then helps slide your thong back up your body and you bite your lower lip when you turn around to face him. You can feel him so deep inside of you and it makes you smile, almost makes you yearn for another round with him but you know that you should really be getting to Ryan and Blake’s party.

You grab the same dress he had picked out for you and slide it on, turning around so that Hugh can zip you up. Once he does, he places a gentle kiss on the side of your neck and looks at you from top to bottom. 

“Beautiful,” he smiles. 

“I’m gonna be feeling you all night,” you admit. 

“Good, and just so we’re both clear,” Hugh says, gently gripping your chin as he looks into your eyes. “Your punishment isn’t over.”

“Punishment?” you clear your throat, excitement bubbling in your chest. 

“Oh yeah,” he grins. “You’re not going to get away with making us late that easily.” 

“Can we– Can we skip the party and just get straight into it?” 

Hugh narrows his eyes. “Such a naughty girl,” he growls. 

“Is that a yes?” 

“No,” Hugh chuckles. “Now, let’s go. Consider having to wait as part of your punishment.”

“Yes, sir.” you respond, biting your lip. 

Hugh growls and releases his hold on your chin as he takes a step back to look at you from top to bottom. “If we don’t leave now, I’m going to throw you over my knee and–”

“Okay!” you interrupt, squeezing your legs together. “Let’s go before I tie you to the bed.” You don’t give him a chance to respond because you’re already walking out of the closet.

Hugh chuckles and shakes his head, pulling his phone out of his pocket to see a response from Ryan who had replied to tell him that the party wasn’t going to start for another hour. Hugh shakes his head and runs out after you, seeing you with a knowing smirk on your lips.

“Oh, you planned all of this.” Hugh points out.

You nod and then reach out to gently grip the end of his tie. “Do you really think I’d make us late for the party, Hugh?” 

“On the bed. Now.”

“But what if we’re late–”

“We have an hour,” Hugh growls. “And I ain’t done with you yet.”

---

forever taglist: @haytchee @wolverigrl

[siremasterlawrence]

Fairy Tale: The Nerd & The Himbo

My best friend his name is Chris Carmack he is visiting me at my house after living away for a year and after because he isso glad to see me as he comes in with that overly sized white body.My god he is so massively built like a tank I always wanted to covet him for the long term, actually for life because he is so darn fucking hot and I walk in to the kitchen to get us both a drink.

As he talks for a bit I turn my back digging in to my pocket reaching for a two packets of various crushed pills, I undo them slipping them in to a can of soda as I seal the can back up shaking it intensely.It is to my delight to see him open it quickly as it burst in to the air spilling all over him as he begins to crack up in a fit of laughter at himself and of course unfortunately for him he is left at a stand still unable to calm his own self back to reality.

“How embarrassing for me huh? Too funny “

“You seem light hearted?”

“Do I? Hahaha “

“Here goes nothing “

“What? Haha”

“Take off your clothes! You are soaking wet”

“Yeah! You are correct! Duh!”

“No duh! Obviously! You don’t need them and put them in the wash”

“Thanks man! I must be high or something “

“Or something”

“Did you say something?”

“Hurry up!”

“Sure motherfucker”

“How well do you know me?”

“We are best friends”

“True! Well! I am a dominant “

“I am a Hypnotist”

“I am super hot!”

“Well bro! Why are you reminding me?”

“Stating facts”

“You bro! You are my nerd”

“then submit to me and be mine “

“Naturally! I want to do as you say”

“Those pills do wonders! I am glad I did not give up on them “

“How may I be of use?”

“Put these glasses on and these headphones on”

“Yes bro! What ffffoooorrrr”

I am fully dedicated to taking advantage of him because according to every damn guy and girl except for the weird exceptions I am not good enough and yes is it cruel totally but whatever. I sly walk to the side do my long length side mirror across the room guiding him to follow me, be at my side as he does so effortlessly his body is towering over my with his godly physique.

His mind could never match mine at all due to his self a battle do wills could ensue if I let it but I won’t ever let him go free even again he mind now and soon he will always have been mine.No questions asked! He stares blankly in to the mirror awaiting my commands I smirk a bit admiring his body as I take my time to be able to decipher what is possible and it is not like he cares.

“Ok Chris! Are you ready for your ultimate transformation?”

“Into what bro?”

“It’s Master Lawrence “

“Sir Yes Master Lawrence Sir”

“SLEEP”

“YES”

“I want you cum what’s left of my best friend out”

“On my orders”

“Yes Master”

“You will cum when you wake up”

“Yes Master…”

“Wake up “

“Ooooohhhhh”

“Uuuuuuggggghhhh”

“Aaaaahhhhhh”

“Ffffuuuuuccccckkkkk”

“Yes yes yes”

“Yyyyyeeeesssss”

“Mmmmmmpppphhhh”

“WOAH!”

“Hey Master”

“I am not confused”

“Let me know “

“Did we use to be friends?”

“Can I be your pool boi?”

“Yeah jump in”

“Hell yes!”

“Woohoo”

“God! I feel…I feel”

“Free”

“And?”

“Alive”

“Happy “

“You took it out of my mouth “

“Literally “

“I knew we were close “

“Yes we use to be “

“I don’t understand”

“I forced this on you “

“Did you hypnotize me?”

“You are kidding “

“I thought!”

“I am sorry “

“For what?”

“I am confused now”

“I love you “

“Because I made you “

“You also helped me see the light “

“Well that is a non intended benefit”

“I was rigid “

“Awful! Kind of”

“I get it! I was a…”

“A asshole “

“A jerk “

“You saved me”

“You are my man “

“My light and my life”

The end

[denverneumann]

It was with not just a little bit of trepidation that Denver took her first steps into the Tower since she'd been escorted out. It hadn't even been that long ago. Snow, what had it been, a week? Two? Time seemed to be in a state of flux, or else a kind of liminal stasis. In a world without Games there were no bookends to the seasons, no touchstones upon which to ground one's sense of reality. And what a painful reality it had been. But Denver had been promised it would be okay this time. She was going to be okay. She had walked in through the front door, and no one had arrested her yet. Besides, even if someone didn't believe she was here on business, she was still just a low-level loyalist. A rich girl without a rich name to back her up. She'd be safe.

Her kiosk was gone. Denver wondered idly as she passed where it had once stood if there had been any satisfaction in tearing it down. Her manager was dead, she was certain. As best as she'd been able to gather, all of the upper management for the Hunger Games Museum were dead.

She walked in nearly a straight line until she reached the back of the Tower, a window in one of the old lounges. No arrest. She was okay. She sighed at that, a mix of relief and sheer uncertainty, and took a seat. She pulled out her notebook and a pen, lucky finds from the BEEF gift shop, and started taking notes of the world around her. So wrapped up in her observations was she, so bent on mastering the art of recording history as it was actually happening, that she'd missed someone coming up to her until she felt the presence right by her side. She jolted up, startled.

"Hi," she said, resisting the urge to insist she was allowed to be there. "Sorry, I didn't realize anyone was there. You must have quiet feet or something." She gave a laugh and a smile, but gripped her pen tighter.

[apalestar]

@galefcrce plotted starter.

An eventful evening not for the soiree or clandestine deals Astarion had in store. No, tonight his palace played host to a friend of old. Admittedly, he and Gale had not ended off on the best of terms. A lover scorned and all. Already a small entourage of Baldur's Gate richest and finest had gathered. The palace had never been more livelier.

And many of Cazador's old clients and connections were all too eager to latch onto another influential person. The infamous moniker attached to his name: Hero of the Gate. Who could resist not coming to his social events? And how foolish Duke Ravengard had been to give him a noble's title! It made him respectable even if the eyes of those who knew him when he was but his slave.

This was the crux of why he even considered extending his lover of old an invitation. Gale wanted something from him; a deal. Something of import for him in exchange for magical tomes the late bastard Szarr kept in his collections. All were property of Lord Ancunín now, of course.

The musicians played a classical tune meant for partnered dancing. The wine and hors d'oeuvres flowed from the kitchens. A perfect evening for playing nobility's game.

Astarion's chamberlain, a slight thing of a woman, approached him. One of the few mortal servants in the household. Every vampire needed at least one for appearances. "My Lord, your guest of honor has arrived." She spoke quietly only once he signaled for her to do so.

"Splendid. The highlight of my evening barring any assassinations. Those always make for an entertaining affair." Astarion dismissed her. He weaved himself in and out of the crowd dodging conversations with a polite, well-practiced smile. His roguish tendencies hadn't diminished since the fall of the cult.

"Gale of Waterdeep." He greeted with the same fervor any good patriar would of an old friend; even one as estranged as him. "So pleased I am to—" A pause. "—see you. I'd fear you'd be half dead before you came to chat."

[entriprises]

limbs jerking, he moves against the mattress with a start. so close to sleeping through till morning, bradley’s out of luck for another night. managing to fall asleep as quick as he did a couple hours ago was all false hope. 

hand wrapping around his wrist, bradley expects to meet the cold glass of his watch, but under his fingertips is just skin. the watch he means to twist is on the nightstand. his hand rubs at his temples instead, thumb and middle finger on either side pressing before his palm just rests flat on his forehead.

hand slipping down to the side of his neck, bradley turns his head expecting to see bob asleep beside him. instead, he’s met with the sight of an empty bed. it’s not a concern, at first. he guesses bob’s slipped off to the bathroom, and uses the moment of privacy to pull himself upright and try to push through the groggy fog of nerves that’s become increasingly familiar to him. it’s not a familiarity he enjoys. he feels tense, shaken.

when minutes continue to pass, and bob still hasn’t returned, the nerves start to take a worser turn. bradley pushes the blankets away, rising out of bed to find the other and navigate through the darkness of the space. the journey to the door is not without a little grumble and ow when he kicks some dark blob. eventually he makes it to bob's living room where he's not particularly surprised to see bob hunched over on the couch with the light on -- he's only relieved.

a not so little not so surprise starter for bob / @fyrewalks

[cnlyfans]

continued from ( x )

there's  a  comforting  lull  between  them  as  the  two  sat  closely  against  the  cushions  of  his  couch  ,  attention  transfixed  on  images  of  ghostface  flashing  over  the  screen  .  they'd  seen  this  film  a  hundred  times  it  seemed  ,  as  it  was  one  of  the  only  he  still  owned  on  dvd  .  cable  had  been  cut  off  months  ago  and  he  didn't  have  the  extra  funds  to  restore  it  ,  having  lost  his  job  a  few  weeks  prior  to  the  bill  .  it  wasn't  in  the  plan  ,  none  of  this  was  ,  but  he  was  doing  his  best  to  keep  her  entertained  despite  it  all  .  putting  on  movies  ,  bringing  her  books  ,  cooking  together  every  chance  they  got  which  admittedly  ,  wasn't  as  much  as  he'd  like  .    his  savings  account  was  quickly  depleting  and  every  day  that  he  wasn't  working  felt  like  a  weight  against  his  chest  ,  crushing  his  spirit  and  making  it  difficult  to  breathe  .  he  hadn't  told  her  just  how  bad  it  was  and  didn't  intend  to  .  as  far  as  she  was  concerned  ,  her  belly  was  always  full  and  he  was  around  more  to  add  enrichment  to  her  otherwise  lonely  life  —  or  so  he  thought  .  her  words  ,  the  request  ,  seemed  to  say  otherwise  .  concentration  breaks  and  in  a  slow  tip  of  his  chin  ,  he's  finding  her  gaze  in  the  soft  glow  radiating  from  the  tv  .  she's  wearing  a  look  he  recognizes  ,  one  he'd  seen  many  times  before  ...  desperation  .  lips  pull  into  a  tight  line  ,  disappointment  quite  apparent  .  eleven  months  of  conditioning  learning  one  another  in  every  sense  of  the  word  and  still  she  has  the  impulse  to  reach  for  her  past  .  to  ask  for  the  one  thing  he'd  explicitly  denied  her  of  over  and  over  again  .  drue  had  been  exceptionally  lenient  with  her  in  contrast  to  those  who  came  before  but  there  was  one  ,  singular  line  he  was  unwilling  to  cross  .  this  was  it  .  this  was  the  line  .  "  you  want  to  leave  me  ,  "  it  isn't  a  question  so  much  as  a  conclusion  .  why  else  would  she  risk  undoing  all  of  their  progress  ?  he  was  finally  beginning  to  trust  her  .  had  been  convinced  that  she  loved  him  ,  that  she  wanted  to  be  here  with  him  .  and  just  like  that  his  doubts  about  her  intentions  are  tenfold  .  he  untangles  himself  from  her  ,  recoiling  to  the  edge  of  the  couch  where  he'll  rest  his  elbows  against  the  area  above  his  knees  .  allows  himself  a  moment  to  consider  the  request  once  more  before  shaking  his  head  no  .  "  we've  been  over  this  —  no  contact  .  not  now  ,  not  ever  .  this  isn't  just  for  your  benefit  ,  but  for  theirs  .  it's  been  almost  a  year  ,  dakota  .  they're  finally  coming  to  terms  with  the  loss  .  what  good  would  it  do  to  tear  open  the  wound  knowing  you  can't  give  them  what  they  want  ?  "  which  was  to  see  her  again  ,  to  bring  her  home  .  he  scoffs  .  over  his  dead  fucking  body  . / @svftlove

[anhxdonia]

@godsunderfoot — antioch university, august 5th, afternoon. trigger warnings: religious references!

PERHAPS  THE  MOST  ELEGANT  FORM  OF  BEAUTY  IS  THE  STORY.  Smithed  words,  struck  when  molten,  and  shaped  until  piercing  at  first  strike;  others  daintily  crafted  and  cut  gems  of  prose.  A  professional  fabulist  drips  jeweled  sentences,  their  carats  reflected  in  the  bright,  yearning  nebula  of  the  human  iris,  a  rapt  audience  caught  in  the  splendor.  As  simple  as  it  may  be,  this  truth  bears  repeating:  we  are  a  species  wrapped  up  in  aesthetics,  fabrics  of  our  imagination...  seeking  beauty  in  the  forms  that  cover  the  ugliness  we  harbor.

Many  believe,  quote  rapaciously,  that  beauty  —  some  unspoiled,  earthly,  carnal,  tactile  essence  —  is  terror.  But  one  is  gripped  by  fear,  horrors  that  subsume  underneath  one's  skin  when  encountering  the  unfamiliar,  unknown.  When  one  believes  they've  never  witnessed  it  before.  Beauty  is  a  terror  when  it  is  FOREIGN.

Maharth's  fingers,  ashen  at  the  tips  with  the  finest  dust  of  Hagoromo  chalk,  underline  the  word  terror  on  the  blackboard.  He  is  still  a  lover  of  the  Classics  and  basks  in  Inquisitive  stares  following  the  arc  of  his  arm  as  he  encircles  the  truth.  He  faces  their  eagerness,  matches  with  a  spark  of  his  own,  and  lovingly  tosses  in  his  kindling,  a  speech:

"  How  we  view  one's  beauty  becomes  one's  truth,  one's  belief  in  the  world  we  live  in...  All  religious  art  has  a  motif  of  untouchable  beauty,  the  peerless  perfect  faces,  serenity  in  the  expression  both  present  and  empty,  seeing  a  world  that  a  mortal  onlooker  could  never  comprehend...  "

The  projector,  more  like  a  banner  that  floats  down  from  the  rafters,  depicts  Michelangelo's  Last  Judgment,  capturing  a  sliver  of  its  phenomenal  flair.  The  professor  summarizes,  "  Michelangelo's  Last  Judgment,  his  final  painting,  stirred  controversy  at  its  time.  The  Catholic  Church  was  in  its  Counter-Reformation  movement,  and  the  Council  of  Trent  deemed  the  Last  Judgment's  Neoplatonic  influences  heretical.  Nudity,  in  fact,  was  the  issue...  I  hear  the  snickering,  students.  Stay  with  me  for  a  second.  "

"  Now,  we'd  think  it  baseless,  quite  prudish,  no?  Given  the  fame  of  the  Statue  of  David,  the  Ecstasy  of  St.  Teresa  of  Avila…  The  bodily  beauty  of  mimicked  flesh  and  blood,  as  a  means  of  extending  the  greatness  of  its  Saints  to  the  people,  was  now  rejected  for  being  baseless,  vulgar,  and  Godless.  "

Maharth  wonders  briefly  how  the  indictment  fell  on  Michelangelo  when  the  commissioners  who  pulled  art  after  art  from  him  betrayed  him.  Did  the  artist  burn  up  in  shame  when  the  poet  Pietro  Aretino  accused  him  of  defiling  the  Sistine  Chapel,  of  denigrating  it  to  a  whorehouse?

"  That's  what  I  want  you  to  think  about,  students.  Expressions  of  piety.  What  is  religious  beauty?  What  is  artifice  and  truth?  Upon  completing  his  last  painting,  Michelangelo  wrote,  'Neither  painting  nor  sculpture  will  be  able  any  longer  to  calm  my  soul,  now  turned  to  divine  love.'  What  divine  beauty  drives  a  pious  servant  to  agitation?  "

His  lecture  ends  with  synchronized  silence  before  students  and  some  faculty  onlookers  remember  the  time  and  place.  Then,  as  if  coming  out  of  a  daze,  they  shamble  out  of  their  desks,  the  nooks  at  the  edges  of  the  room  to  leave.  As  the  newest  member  of  Antioch  University's  roster,  Professor  Chandrasekhar  fields  ravenous  last-minute  questions,  chatting  with  the  engagement  of  a  beloved  old  friend  who  has  a  train  to  catch.  It's  only  after  the  regulars  dip  and  the  field  of  people  thins  out  that  the  professor  notices  someone  in  the  midst,  stately  and  tall  even  when  far  back  in  the  room.

There  are  continuing  education  courses  for  adults  at  the  university,  so  the  age  of  the  man,  sculpted  in  rugged,  well-defined  features,  does  not  illicit  any  curiosities  from  the  professor;  however,  the  lack  of  academic  equipment  (no  papers,  pens)  hints  at  Maharth  that  the  visitor  may  not  be  a  simple  course  auditor.  Well,  there  is  no  hurt  in  asking.

Or,  there  shouldn't  be.

"  Good  afternoon!  The  lecture  wasn't  too  long-winded,  was  it? "  Maharth  calls  out,  hand  cupped  around  his  mouth.  He  follows  his  greeting  with  easy,  long  strides  to  the  man.  Hand  out,  fingers  loosely  together,  knuckles  forming  soft  ridges  like  a  clam's  shell,  he  signals  his  invitation.  "  Professor  Maharth  Prasad  Chandrasekhar.  Charmed  to  make  your  acquaintance.  "

[elijahfalvey]

— LOCATION: The Labyrinth.

— CHARACTERS: Elijah & Dee ( @deexkaplan ).

Elijah could always tell when Leon was particularly bored, even when the grumpy barman who he’d consider one of his closest friends wasn’t around to torment him with his thoughts in person; his phone vibrated in his pocket so many damn times he felt nothing but compelled to answer, or at the very least check to make sure that it wasn’t something actually important. There were plenty of scenarios where glancing down at the device proved to be incredibly inconvenient, like when he was busy — which, not for nothing Leon, he quite often was — or like right now, when he was tucked away in a booth at the Labyrinth across from Dee, mindlessly chatting and sharing a few drinks. He’d agreed to come out with her in order to actually spend time with her, not to be distracted by the incessant buzzing of his phone. However, the frequency of notifications was becoming harder and harder to ignore by the minute. Regretfully interrupting her, he pulled the damn thing out from his clothes and said, “Sorry, Dee. Sorry, one second. Someone keeps fucking . . .” His tone teetered on light frustration as the brightness of the screen illuminated against his face in the dim lighting of the bar, and there it was: several new messages from ‘Leon Woz do not answer 💔’ staring back at him. He huffed out a breath and decidedly put off answering any of them, setting his phone to the side on the table they shared face-up. “It’s not important. Sorry — I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

His eyes found their way to Dee’s as the screen turned on again, and low and behold, ‘Leon Woz do not answer 💔’ was calling him. The impatient bastard.

[hells-musing-along]

// closed starter for @statiicstag //

A haunting melody drifted through the skyline, emanating from one of the rooftops. Those within the vicinity felt a deep ache clutching at their hearts: sorrow, anxiousness, and heartache hung heavy within. The siren’s song only lasted a few minutes, but those feelings still lingered with those around and within her.

“...What a fucking happy day in Hell,” Sarcastically muttering to herself, Lilith poured another glass of whiskey. Her lilac eyes slowly take in Hell’s skyline before they fall upon a particular hotel. A faint twist of anguish crossed her features as she realized it was still her first day back in hell.

It was supposed to be a happy day, a joyous reunion with her family. The moment she was released from Heaven's golden cage, she eagerly searched for her loved ones. Yet, upon finding them, she hesitated, realizing she couldn't simply re-enter their lives as if nothing had changed. 

Lucifer and Charlie looked so happy when she saw them heading into the hotel. She didn’t want to intrude on their happiness. It’s been seven years… did she even have that right? You’re just going to ruin them. She did not, at least right now, and retreated into the city.

… where she is currently now, draining yet another glass of whiskey on the rooftop of her recording studio. Reaching for the bottle again, she found it empty. Letting out a heavy sigh, she headed back inside, the warm buzz of the alcohol tingling her senses and dulling her pain.

This was what she wanted, needed even, to be fully vulnerable for just one night. To let go of all the restraints she had built up over the past seven years to protect herself and just feel again. Liquor might not have been the best choice, but it was what was available.

Lilith stumbled into the studio, briefly appreciating the soft sound of jazz emitted from the wooden radio, before heading straight to the liquor cabinet, oblivious to her surroundings. Her fingers traced the tops of the bottles before settling on a bottle of rye. With a satisfied hum, she turned around and finally noticed that she was not alone.

An elegant eyebrow arched ever so slightly as hazy lilac-colored eyes fixed on the intruder. "...I wonder when these hallucinations will finally cease," she murmured to herself, knowing her dear friend wouldn’t be here. No one knew she was here.

[mcumultibitches-archived]

|| CLOSED || Patty & Aleksandra ||

@widowschild

Steve had told her about Bucky being snapped away and she'd nearly left before he could tell her the rest, she had a niece who was alive. He gave her a way to contact Natasha after that, she remembered stories about the woman. The fact her brother had some kind of relationship with her really wasn't much of a surprised based on what she knew about her. When she saw a picture of Aleksandra after meeting with her though? She remembered most of her time with the Red Room, it was her life before that was still fuzzy.

She remembered meeting her when she was young, she remembered the feeling of annoyance that she had held back when she learned that the girl was put on loan to Hydra. She had pushed it down and ignored it, of course. She was a good soldier who followed orders, she'd been so far gone in the brainwashing? She didn't even realize that the little things she saw in the girl's appearance that reminded her of her brother were why she had felt an innate protectiveness for her.

Now here she was sitting in a chair across from her in what was a living room area of the avengers compound where Natasha currently had them living, trying to decide what to say. “It-” She pursed her lips for a second before saying. “I'm not sure if you remember me or not, Aleksandra. We met when you were young, before I remembered who I was before Hydra got their hands on me.”

[g1bsongirl]

𖤐⋆.˚  STATUS  ... open .ᐟ 𖤐⋆.˚  LOCATION  ... anywhere outside baybee .ᐟ

what was the saying — music on, world off ? certainly applied to iris. the girl was in a trance, fully encompassed by the ‘smooth’ sounds of 100 gecs frying her eardrums. one notch up and crimson would’ve no doubt dripped from her ears. a grimace contoured her features as soon as her playlist shuffled. who the hell snuck ‘sail’ by awolnation into her rotation ? before she could even hit next, the wheels of her rollerskates swept up from beneath her. blunt force caused her body to stumble back. looked like something out of a cartoon, had it been, a giant text would’ve appeared in a decorative bubble … ‘ boing ! ’ headphones lay beside her, the obnoxious beat blaring. perhaps the song was a warning sign ? should’ve listened. instead, she accepted defeat, laid there and took a gander at the sky. “ s’nice day — huh ? ” head tilted as she squinted, trying to catch a better glimpse without mutilating her pupils. “ is it just me or does that cloud look like billy the puppet ? ” wasn’t her first time falling and it certainly wouldn’t be her last. “ y’think you could spare me a hand ? ” she extended an arm out, fingers splayed, and offered a lax grin.

[governmentofficial]

@mettleborn (@ William)

While Mycroft had never been the most social individual, he understood the concept of societal expectations. At all times, he was a representative of his family, his father in particular, and therefore it wouldn't do to behave in a way that risked the potential for gossip to be spread. As much as he may prefer to keep to himself, reclusive behaviour had a nasty habit of prompting conversation, and thus Mycroft made an effort to show his face at some of the more tolerable gatherings throughout the academic year.

The Oxford Union put on quite a few of these events. Their start of the year gathering was by no means Mycroft's favourite, but it wasn't the worst either. There was, at least, a high likelihood of there being a few individuals in attendance who would prove interesting to talk to. Considering that, Mycroft's plan was to arrive, spend a few hours in conversation with these individuals, and then return to his rooms. With luck, he could make his presence known just enough to avoid unwanted gossip, but not so much that he was dragged into more conversation than he wanted.

For the most part, the evening was going well. Mycroft had bumped into a few of his peers from his course and had spent some time discussing their final year's upcoming syllabus. He had then found himself talking to the son of one of his father's colleagues. They had discussed politics for a while before Mycroft had politely excused himself with the intent of finding another drink.

With a new glass in hand, he took himself to the side of the room, planning to observe the going ons around him. Eventually, he noticed that he wasn't the only figure that had decided to step to one side, though when he turned to look at who had joined him, Mycroft was surprised to see Lord Cavendish.

The other man was not one with whom he had spent any particular time. Mycroft was aware of him (he would wager that he was aware of all the sons of the current notable men in politics), and they had shared a few words here and there, but they did not have the same social circles, nor were they on the same course.

His social circle was actually why Mycroft was surprised to see him. From what he had heard and observed from a distance, Lord Cavendish was a man with an impressive yet complex group of friends. The way he seemed to direct the wills of some of those friends was fascinating - though, not so much so that Mycroft found himself wanting to get a closer look. Perhaps those Lord Cavendish was with had got caught up in conversation elsewhere, or perhaps he needed a short respite from them - whatever the case, Mycroft had looked at him, and now it would be rather impolite to not say anything.

"Good evening, Lord Cavendish," he said as he turned so he could speak properly with him. "May I just say, I recall the comments you made during the Union's final debate last academic year. Your words were very well put together. Incorrect, if you were to ask my opinion of them, but one has to admire the deft precision they presented."

[outofthiisworld]

. ✦ ݁ ˖ @5mind opened pandora’s box and let the old man talk more !!!

[🧪] “HAH! You know… you aren’t too far off with that, technically.” There was a wickedly ecstatic grin plastered on Doc’s face— it looked like Red’s own inquisitive interest was downright infectious (and gave him what we might call: Old Man Zoomies™️).

“The human body is remarkably versatile, if you know how to bend and break the genetic coding. Really, any organic being can undergo a forced metamorphosis— under the correct conditions, that is.”

The narrator would like to take this moment to remind everyone about her love of psuedo-science.

“Look at it this way: the genetic code of an organic organism isn’t too far off from say, data on a computer or an artificial intelligence, yeah?”

Wow, he was still going, huh?

“Sure, sure: both are made out of different stuff— but both contain coding that programs their daily functions, and in theory, both can be manipulated with.”

Doc took a long breath and pointed a single finger in the air!

“BUT… It’s still a crucially delicate process. You mess with one string of code incorrectly and then: BOOM!!! Server crash. Or you got yourself sludge.”

Doc then took a long, well deserved sip of his coffee. He then promptly burnt his tongue.

“ow, shit! Anyway, as you can imagine; he turned himself into sludge. Nastiest shit I’ve ever seen.”

[denverneumann]

Denver stared at the mural. It was new, as far as she could tell. She wasn't too far from the Tower, physically, which a month ago would have surprised her, but Enna didn't have to hide anymore. Vox Parva could paint wherever she liked. Denver wished she had a calling like that. Instead she had the already far-away memories of a temporary home with two men who had become her brothers, and further still of a museum and documents and artifacts and a lost dream.

Denver had no idea what she was doing, besides looking for the artist formerly - currently? - known as Vox Parva. All of Denver's friends and family were unaccounted for - the only people Denver was sure were even alive were the ones in the Tower. Which meant that, despite how loathe Denver was to do it, she had to get back there. She had to, legally this time, get back into the Tower, and figure out what her life looked like now. And for that, she needed help, from Enna, the only Vox she could trust.

(Well, Enna and Cain. If Cain had ended up Vox after all.)

She turned, determined to wander the streets around the Tower, which seemed much friendlier since Nerissa Snow was killed, but stopped less than a block over. Denver finally caught a lucky break.

"Enna," she called out, though still quiet, out of habit. She walked over slowly, uncertain what reception she'd meet even if she was sure Enna wouldn't kill her. "Fancy seeing you here."

@ennalydonsbee

[quietlyblooms]

open to mutuals | in which chiyo doesn't want them to leave <3

" thank you, " softly chiyo mutters as laces are untied and shoes discarded, careful hands helping her beneath a comforter that feels heavenly against her skin. typically she'd never go to bed in street clothes, but the night calls for an exception; she's had just a tad too much to drink, feels much too tired to worry about dirty clothes. no, chiyo's more concerned with squeezing her pillow as tightly as she can ( the pressure against her chest soothes something that she can't name, doesn't want to name ).

she feels the bed shift as her companion stands, and eyes like melted chocolate stare up at them. belatedly chiyo realizes she's grabbed hold of their wrist but doesn't let go. belatedly she realizes she's allowed her pillow to fall to the ground, half-risen upon an elbow, though she doesn't care. she just doesn't want them to leave.

" could you stay a while longer? " her voice sounds so small, fragile. " please? "