#e last wallpapers

[emeraldbabygirl]

@witchy-weve-monbebe I DID A THING AHHHH I’M SO PROUD OF IT HEHEHHEHE ANSKSJZDJDNDNDNNDNX 🥺💕

[udekai]

:3c

[kylos-starlight]

Excuse me while Ce.sa.r fucking executes me live

Can ANYONE where my eyes go to first in all of these photos!? I BET YOU CAN'T! AHA [sweats]

[ivymarquis]

Say You Won't Let Go

Last House on the Right

Pairing| John Price x F!Single Mom!Reader Rating| E Word Count| 1.1k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Post Apocalypse!AU, Single Mom!verse, pregnant reader, mentions of pregnancy related eating issues + vomiting, Reader's got some separation issues. Fair warning this is so half baked I haven't even decided what kind of apocalypse it is, but somehow Ive got a whole plotline regardless.Same pairing as my fic Blind Date

Next Chapter

You can’t believe your luck. 

You’re not sure what exactly it was about this house in the dead of night that had you so transfixed, but your intuition has paid off in spades. 

The area’s been abandoned, to your knowledge leaving you the sole inhabitant meandering around. 

Or maybe waddling would be a more apt description.

Fear and uncertainty of the outside hurry you along into the house. Most everyone- the survivors- has splintered off into groups. There’s no evidence of anyone still living here (admittedly it’s not like you’ve taken the time to check every room, but there are signs when a house is inhabited), but you luck out that the cabinets haven’t been picked over. 

It’s been entirely too long since your last meal, and it takes a good amount of restraint to not devour the can of ravioli too quickly. 

As much as you’re tempted, you know there’s a fine line between what will and won’t have you immediately throwing up in the sink- grazing seems to keep the worst of the upset down.

There’s no hospitals to jaunt off to if you end up dehydrated. Excessive vomiting is not ideal post end of days.

If you were in your right mind- not frightened, isolated, starving, cold- and not focusing on how the unheated chef boyardee might as well be a five star michelin meal for all you can think right now, you might have been paying more attention.

The sound of a safety clicking off behind you freezes your blood far more than the cold. That sound is deliberate. Whoever’s behind you- gun pointed at you- wants you to know they got the jump on you.

“Hands where I can see them,” the order is gruffly barked at you.

You feel stupid. Of course all of this was too convenient for you to simply be catching a break. It wasn’t exactly well lit and designed to draw you in- but you’re an animal caught in a trap regardless.

The fork clatters against the counter next to the can as you go to comply.

“Turn around. Slowly.”

You’re not much of a threat in your current condition. That much is obvious.

Time stopped having any sort of tangible meaning a while ago. You should know how many weeks you are, but the days run together fending for yourself and you just know that you’re close. There’s no hiding the swell of your belly.

The man at the doorway looks as gruff as he sounds. Your mind spins like a tire in mud to process everything in front of you in the poor moonlight. Military, that much is obvious. You’re not actually sure if that’s a good thing. Handsome from what you can see, though historically your type has been men who don’t have a weapon leveled at you.

The taciturn expression on his face falters when he spots your bump, but you’ve learned by now to not expect any sort of special treatment.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize immediately. “I-I didn’t know anyone was here. I’ll leave, I swear.” 

He looks at you another moment before a look of resignation washes over him.

“Turn back around. Keep your hands up.” Oh God. Your mind immediately goes to the worst- That this man, for whatever reason, has decided that your infraction has signed your death warrant. That he can’t quite bring himself to fire on a pregnant woman staring him in the eyes, so the last thing you’re ever going to see is some tacky wallpaper and ugly cabinets.

You yelp when one of his hands finds the pistol on your hip. Holy shit you didn’t even hear him cross the room.

“Easy, love,” he soothes as he starts to frisk you for more weapons. “Not gonna hurt you. You have anything else on you?”

“A knife in my back pocket.” It doesn’t even occur to you to lie; putting yourself in his good graces is your only option and you can’t do that by lying.

His hands slip under your jacket, the hem oversized and hanging even with your arms up, making a wrong guess at the first pocket he checks before grabbing the knife out of the second one.

“Anyone going to come sniffing around looking for you?” A fair question, but one that sticks like a knife between your ribs.

The “No,” that escapes you is softer than you meant it to be, voice warbling as you try not to cry.

Hormones would have had you on the verge of tears at any given point, and that would have been before the end of the world and before your group abandoned you. You’re well entitled to your tears, you think, but try to stuff them back down anyway.

“You’re out here alone,” he grouses, sounding like he doesn’t believe you. The like this? is implied.

Your arms are still up, and they’re getting tired. Everything tires you out these days.

Like he can read your mind, he releases you with a “you can set your arms down now, love.”

“Thank you,” you’re in full fawn mode, turning to face him. While he’s clearly decided against killing you, you’ve been scared and alone for the past few days and you really don’t want to be separated from the only person who will give you the time of day right now. 

“Is there anyone else here? Other soldiers?” Your fate is sealed and lies in the soldier’s hands regardless of his answer.

Nothing with change, no matter what he says, but you think you’re less intimidated if it’s just the two of you. 

The world’s gone to hell in a handbasket, and yet you’ll never forget watching 28 days later when the line I promised them women was dropped.

“Got separated from my team.”

He turns away from you, gesturing to follow him out of the kitchen and towards the living room.

He’s limping.

You haven’t seen him move until now. You’re more an expert on busted hardware than busted body parts, you can’t tell if it’s a fresh injury that’s still healing, or an old one that’s set in place.

“They left you.” They left me, too.

“They didn’t leave me for dead, they think I am dead. Gonna take a bit more than that to get the job done, though.” 

You have no reason not to believe him. Despite having just met him, the man is like a living manifestation of everything masculinity is supposed to be- down to the surly attitude despite him herding you further into the house. It doesn’t take much to figure out that he’s tough as nails and sure why not flirt in death’s face that her last attempt wasn’t good enough?

You sit on the couch he points to, as he settles into the leather chair across from you.

“Christ what’d I’d do for a fucking smoke right now,” he mumbles, pawing at his chest absent mindedly on reflex.

You mean to sit stiff as a board, but your body is tired and the couch is surprisingly comfortable.

The soldier, however, sits like he owns the house. “And now for the question of what to do with you.”

[atsadi-shenanigans]

A Misuse of Potions 1- Hill Giant Strength

Wrote it, thought I should sit on it to better edit, then decided I ain't patient. Bon appetite.

Rated VERY E.

Astarion has a plan. A nice, simple plan. His love has been gone for almost a tenday, but now she's back, and he needs her to obliterate him in the best way possible.

Night has fallen. Apprentice spellworkers dart through the streets to light the lanterns as the pale wash of sunset fades into purple, and then black.

Astarion stands near the window overlooking the front street and the small, rather overgrown garden his love has been somewhat tending to.

She’s late.

She’s actually two days late, but he’s inclined to blame the wizard for that. No, she should have been here thirty minutes ago, right as the last curve of the sun sank behind the distant buildings and released the creatures of the night to their nefarious doings.

To which he would happily add his own misdeeds. Except that she’s late.

Something happened. They were waylaid by pirates. A kraken rose from the deep to smash Waterdeep and pulled that wizard tower down on top of them, and her body is so human and so, so mortal. He needs to go. Needs to check—

Magic stirs below. The scent of cinnamon and licorice he always associates with Gale’s spells. A glimmer of purple flickers in the space right before their front gate—she painted it teal and seemed quite pleased with herself—before a shimmering, purple cloud unfurls taller and taller and…

His breath sighs out of him. She emerges. Eleanor. His former leader, his friend, his love. She’s back. She’s home.

He lets the curtain fall back into place.

They’re plush things, and heavy. Purchased with him in mind and enchanted to boot. Usually, the moment it’s safe to do so, he throws them open to catch the fading light still painting the sky.

But not tonight. He doesn’t care about the sky, today. And he doesn’t want an audience.

Well, aside from one, anyway.

She unlatches the little gate and steps through. Her footsteps sound heavy. She must be tired. He hopes that won’t alter his plans. Because he did. Plan. He’s getting better at that. But now she’s late and it’s thrown him so he hurries down the stairs, soft as a sigh.

Not that he needs to. Her hearing is awful (she says it’s quite good for a human and he feels a twinge of pity at that). Plus their townhouse is enchanted against noise. Can’t have the neighbors (he has neighbors) complaining about the screaming (it’s not even bad screaming; usually involves a lot of “yes, yes oh god” even).

He hits the ground floor and surveys the room. It’s nothing grand. Nothing like the mansion he still gets dragged to in reverie sometimes. But it’s bright and tidy (they pay someone for that, because it turns out neither of them is particularly good at housekeeping). The wooden floor is well-swept and decorated with colorful rugs and potted plants (dearest Eleanor says her people were farmers). The walls are covered in patterned wallpaper and bookshelves and trinkets, tapestries and paintings she should have haggled better for, but didn’t because “good art is worth the artist.”

It's very her. And, he thinks, it might possibly him, as well? Part of him? They change things as they need to as he figures that whole mess out.

But he’s really here to check that everything is in place. No elaborate staging, though. He chose his own clothes for his own reasons, for his own purposes. He’s in their home. And it smells of them.

Or it did smell of them, And that’s the problem.

Oh, his scent is everywhere. He can’t escape that. But she’s been gone the better part of a tenday, and it’s her that’s beginning to fade.

The first, few nights were tolerable. He could nuzzle into her pillow and remember to breathe. The bedding smelled of her: rich blood, the linden soap she favors, and that wonderful, clean scent she carries on her skin. It was nearly enough for him to imagine he held her as he rested.

But the bedding wasn’t warm, like her. And though the late, summer sunlight warms the stone walls of their home and chases away the burgeoning chill of autumn, there was no living body within the walls to fill it with heat.

She wasn’t there. He was alone.

He’s been alone before, of course. Was practically alone for two centuries before he threatened her on that beach (he sighs fondly at the memory: her on her back, staring up at him with what he initially mistook for a simpleton’s vacancy, but later learned was a vicious cunning) (when she wasn’t tired) (and when what she calls her “brain chemicals” were correctly balanced).

Then they were together (he feels himself smile) for a little over a year, now. And in that time, they’ve never been apart as long as this expedition of hers.

And now their home is too cold. Too quiet. And nerves twist his stomach.

It’s almost hilarious. Centuries at seduction, and he’s now reduced to fussing over his clothing as he waits. Second guessing: where he’ll stand, how he’ll position himself. It used to be as effortless as, well, not breathing, but blinking, perhaps (even that’s a stretch). He barely thought about it. Wasn’t entirely present for more than half of it.

But now every moment drags. Her steps up their walkway. The way her lungs draw air. The beat of her heart and there’s no one to witness the slight stumble as his knees go stupidly weak.

He ought to sneer at the thought. A little over a year ago, he would have done far worse. Probably stabbed someone. But now, it’s Eleanor and he missed her, gods help him, and he smooths his hands along his front and takes up position at the door. Waits until…just…there.

Opens that door for her.

Her hand is raised to grab the knob. Now it hovers and slowly falls to her side as she boggles.

He chose well, it turns out. He doesn’t need a mirror to know he looks good. He’s retrieved his heels and laced them up. Unpacked another purchase he kept from her: a long, blood red dress of embroidered silk. It’s a slim fit, meant to hug his form. Would be tight along the legs if it wasn’t for the slit up one side.

The sleeves fall off his shoulders in a way he knows highlights them. She does love his shoulders (loves to clutch them as he works between her legs) (curl her head upon them as he reads to her) (dig her fingers in to try to ease the tense muscles when that blasted joke of an editor at the Baldur’s Mouth throws some feeble counterargument back at him).

But it’s the way her eyes follow along his collarbones to the dip that leads down his chest. It’s his chest that’s her favorite part of him (well, second) (alright, third because she says disgusting things like “your eyes” and “the way you smile” and “but if you didn’t have a mouth, I couldn’t hear you talk about plagues”).

(And she means all of those statements; she’ll just…sit there and listen to him prattle on—)

“Good evening, lover,” he purrs.

She almost drops all three bags she carries.

***

The rest on AO3 so no tumblr horny jail for me.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Picturesque 1921 cottage in Chewelah, WA has 4bds, 2ba, and a pending sale for $585K. It's no surprise that this cutie wouldn't last long.

When guests visit, they park at your picket fence and walk up a lovely path to the front door.

Cozy living room with lovely details. The fireplace is flanked by paned windows and columns separate it from the dining room. There's also an original light fixture.

The dining room has a gorgeous antique lighting fixture.

The kitchen's very nice. Love the checked floor and white cabinets, but it's kind of cluttered and hard to see. It's open to a family room.

The family room looks like it might be a newer addition. It's got a lovely stone fireplace, tree patterned wallpaper and a nice skylight.

Upstairs is a spacious bedroom with an en-suite.

Elegant bath.

The 2nd bedroom is being used as some sort of spa. A pyramid is said to have electromagnetic energy. Also, it looks like there's a small sauna in the corner.

Smallest bedroom is very cute for a child or a guest.

In the yard there's a wonderful big shed.

Plus, a garden and a very nice greenhouse. There's also a covered patio on the shed.

Check out the adorable little she shed.

This home has so much. This is a guest house. It's like having a private road to it, too.

Isn't this lovely? That ceiling.

But, that's not all- there's still another shed.

The property is 1.74 acres.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/101-E-Park-Ln-Chewelah-WA-99109/116378548_zpid/

[skylarsblue]

✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes Nine✦

(Sexual Implication) Ghost, trying to be sexy by whispering: Gaggin’ for it, aren’t ya, love? Soap: Nope. Ghost: No? Soap: I don’t gag on anything. Ghost: *404 Error* Soap: …Ghost? Si? Simon, are you alright?

-- Y/N: Let’s play a word association game! Ghost: Why? Y/N: Because I saved your ass last mission and I’m bored, so you owe me. Ghost: *sigh* Fine. Y/N: P e r f e c t . Gaz: ?? Y/N: Cold. Ghost: Winter. Y/N: Spring. Ghost: Mattress. Y/N: Soft. Ghost: Comfortable. Y/N: Pleasant. Ghost: Sunset. Y/N, With a shit eating grin: Beautiful. Ghost, unconsciously: Johnny- Y/N: YES Gaz: OHHHHHH Ghost: Soap: *gasp* Simon!~ Ghost: I’m going to go crash in a heli. Y/N: I KNEW IT I KNEW IT-

-- Alex: Bitch do you want me to jump across this table? Because I don’t have all day for this. Norris: You feeling froggy? Leap. Alex: Okay, well here I come- Farah: Alex no, no- hOLD OFF

-- (NSFW Joke) Y/N: Oh sorry. I almost drank out of your cup. Soap: Wh-Just go ahead, it won’t matter! Y/N: Well I- Yeah no, you’re right. I’ve drank out of your cups dozens of times. Soap: We’ve sucked the same dick- Y/N: That’s a good point! Ghost: ….*sigh*

-- Gaz: What kind of girl do you like? Soap: My wife. Gaz: And you? Ghost: Johnny’s wife. Gaz: OH- Price, knowing they recently started a poly situation: Pfft-

-- (Use of the word pussy because haha) Gaz, filming: Pffft- Soap: Shhshh- Y/N in the hallway: FORTY THREE FUCKING CENTS! AHHHHH Soap: *wheeze* Y/N: I NEED A SUGAR DADDY!! Gaz: PFFFT- Soap: I can’t breathe- Y/N: At this rate I’m ready to plaster my fuckin’ pussy on the sidewalk for some sPARE CHANGE! Gaz & Soap: *doing that silent cackle thing and smack each other in the arm* Ghost, leaning into the room: What the f- Y/N: SPAARE CHANGE, SPARE CHANGE! ANYONE GOT ANY SPARE CHAAANGE?! Gaz: *coughing* Soap: Steamin’ Jesus I’m fucking crying- Y/N, passing by the room: 🎵Walkin’ in a winter wonderlaaaand🎶

-- Y/N: Would you love me? Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Would I love you if…? Y/N: nO ThAt wAs tHE QuesTiOn-

-- Y/N: Pretty boy! With me I said! Rudy: Rudy: Rudy: Oh I’m pretty boy! Y/N: Yes! Oo that came out a bit quick- (Also works with Soap & Gaz, honestly)

-- (THIS IS A CONCEPT IM TOO WHIMPY TO WRITE, SO HAVE IT HERE! THIS COULD WORK WITH SO MANY CHARACTERS Also, NSFW warning) Ghost: I don’t miss. Y/N, on his ear piece: Never? Even with distractions? Ghost: *turns his scope* Not ever. *just about to take a shot* Y/N: Hmm…what if I went… Mm Simon~ Ghost: *misses* Y/N: Ya missed. Ghost: Cheeky bitch…

-- Gaz: Alright, so, since we’re now in America and we have some time to kill, I went and I got you something. Y/N: Aww Gaz, you really didn’t have to- Gaz: *puts down their Whataburger order* Y/N: OH MY GOD Price: Really? Gaz: *shrug* Soap: *snickering as Y/N Fucking demolishes some fries* Y/N, having the time of their life: Garrick you ever need your dick sucked, a dead body buried, a beer or whatever, you call me. I got’chu Gaz: BAHA- Soap: *wheeze* Ghost: Are you fucking crying? Y/N with their mouth full: I missed it so much.

-- (Team bonding exercises) Soap: You’re a football player, it’s in ya blood! Gaz: That’s racist. Soap: Your soul? Gaz: That’s racist! Soap: …your eyes? Gaz: That’s gay- Soap: That’s homophobic. Gaz: That’s black. Soap: That’s racist!! Gaz: Damn- (this one is extra funny since Gaz is now confirmed LGBT)

-- Gaz: You overrated little twink! Soap: Hey I am a TWUNK, alright?! That is a combination, twink, and HUNK, get it?? Hunk-

-- Soap: Hey~ Fem!Y/N: You’re Gay. Soap: …oh yeah. Soap: *looks at Ghost* Soap: Hey.~ Ghost: *sigh*

-- Soap: I’m gonna have to meet men lying down. Y/N: …I thought’cha did?? Soap: OI!

-- Soap: Everyone says what a giving person I am! Y/N: He’s talking about when you’re in an upright position.

-- Graves: What if there’s a connection? Y/N: I think there’s a connection between your brain and wallpaper paste.

-- Shepard: Now you’re always ornery, rude, unpleasant, and sometimes downright mean. That’s part of your charm. Y/N: Thank you, you colluding-county-hopping-idiotic-relic. Price: *pride*

-- Alex: Oh my god, how are you such a good driver? Soap: Because there’s illegal shit in here. Alex: Soap: Because if I don’t use my turn signal, we’re both gonna do fifteen. Because I am going to lie and say yours. Alex: ….. Soap: Put your seatbelt on, sweetheart. Alex: *clicks it in places* Soap: You are not safe!

-- (Sucking dick joke) Kidnapper: You’re gonna do as I say or I will make you regret ever being born. Y/N: Oh please, I’ve sucked dicks more intimidating than you. Soap: Oh this is why Simon was the way he was after we rescued you both last time.

-- Soap, shoving marshmallows in his mouth: This isn’t very ha-*chokes* MILF!Y/N, across the fucking base: ….*mom instinct* Price: ??? Ghost: Uh- Y/N: Something just happened. Kyle: PFFT-

-- MILF!Y/N: *letting Soap & Gaz lean on her while Price and Ghost stand close behind* Untrue. I’m a mother now. It’s really changed my perspective. Graves: And do you find it hard juggling life and a career? Y/N: You can juggle these nuts.

-- Soap: *rambling* Soap: Agh, sorry, I’m just goin’ on and on- Ghost: Oi, keep talking before I kick your ass. Soap: ….. Gaz: See? This is exactly what I m-where the fuck are these flower petals coming from?? ARE THOSE SPARKLES??

[coryosbaby]

If your requests are open hear me out rq

Somno w Stepbro!Ethan (previously established consent ofc) 🤭

I love writing stepbro Ethan it’s so fun 🤭 this can fit into the plot of Ultraviolence I guess, but it doesn’t have to !!

Warning: stepcest (stepbrother x stepsister), somnophilia, cnc, dubcon, reader is of age, slight sir kink, oral (f receiving), p n v, dom! Ethan being crazy in love, sub! Reader, praise, spit kink

Ethan doesn’t have a lot of patience.

That’s something one should know about the boy, something that’s important. Because it explains perfectly why he’s sneaking out of his room to see you at approximately 2:34 a.m, hair messy, pajama pants low at his hips, as he tries not to wake both of your parents up.

Okay, so that sounds fucked up. But he’s not prone to being scared of taboos, either. And besides, it’s not like you and him are blood; your parents had just decided to marry each other, that’s all.

And, honestly, you’re just too pretty to resist.

He grins when he sees that your door is unlocked. You follow directions so well.

Your window is open, letting in a warm summer breeze. He smiles at your pink wallpaper and Sanrio posters all over the wall.

You’re underneath your floral sheets, chest moving up and down with small, soft breaths. You’re naked, just as Ethan asked you to be.

You’re so precious, so angelic. Ethan’s pretty baby.

He moves over to you, and slowly approaches your nude form on the bed. He watches your tits bounce slightly as he makes a dip in the bed, and then runs his fingers over your neck and chest. Your skin is so soft and supple, and it makes the boy’s cock get hard. He slowly pulls your blanket off of you to gently spread your legs, revealing your swollen pussy. You must’ve touched yourself before you went to bed.

“God..” his voice is quiet, and he’s in awe. “my perfect fuckin’ girl.”

He runs his pinky through your folds, gathering your wetness. He chuckles when he finds that your cum has gathered on his finger. It seems that you had came a lot, maybe even fell asleep right after one of your orgasms.

You squirm sleepily when the tip of Ethan’s pinky makes its way into your hole, and he spits down on your cunt. He lowers his head down and begins to lick his saliva back up, making sure to rub his tongue over your clit. You moan, tired brain confused. Ethan begins to eat you out like you’re his last meal, moaning at your delicious taste. He shoves his ring finger inside your tight canal, beginning to finger fuck your tight pussy.

You begin to stir, tiny sounds escaping you as your brain tries to gather the pleasure you’re experiencing.

“Mmh…” you whine, eyes beginning to flutter open, and you look down in confusion at the stimulation on your dripping cunt. “Eth?”

His thumb rubs circles onto your thigh. Your juices coat his chin, and his pretty brown eyes soften when he looks up at you.

“Yeah, baby.”

You smile, happy that he finally decided to visit your room after 3 nights of waiting (not a long time for most people, but you were just so impatient).

You giggle and make a desperate sound at the same time when he rubs your clit again. “Mmmm… feels good, E. Feels so so good.”

“I know, angel.” He lifts himself up, places a kiss on your lips, and begins to take out his aching cock.

“Gonna fuck you now. Okay?”

You nod, a sleepy smile on your face. He pushes his cock inside you, and you whine at the stretch as he begins to fuck you hard and deep. Your pussy lips are spread out, his cock so big that your hole almost can’t take it. It’s always like that, but you always let him stick it inside. He just fucks you so good, rubs your clit just right, you can’t resist.

He grits his teeth when he sees you practically drooling, small mouth open and just begging to be filled with something.

His thumb goes up to your mouth, and he pulls down your bottom lip.

“Cmon, baby, open up.”

You obey, and his warm spit lands on your tongue. You swallow it greedily, and take the pad of his thumb into your mouth, drooling all over the digit. Your teeth bite down on it, and Ethan groans at the pain, feeling his cock throb.

His thumb falls out of your mouth when he thrusts so hard into you that you can feel his cock hitting your cervix. You grab onto his shoulders, head in his neck, as you begin to cry from being so overwhelmed from it all. You just woke up, after all.

Ethan notices and pouts.

“No, no, sweet girl. Don’t cry. ‘S okay, baby.” He coos. “Just relax. Your big brother’s got you.”

His breath is heavy, his arms shaky. It’s hard for him to not pound you so hard that the entire house hears, with the way you’re clenching down on him right now.

You nod, sniffling.

“Yes sir.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“There’s my good little girl. Gonna fuck you back to sleep, sweetheart. Yeah, just hold onto me. Just like that.. ”

[2dmax]

2dmax commissions info spring 2024

last updated april 12th

to place an order for a commission, you may PM me; if you prefer, you can also fill out this form or commission me through fiverr.

text and additional info below the readmore.

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[soobibabe]

MOA bitchFUL era 6 members - 6 active

yeonjun: GUYS SOMEONE GOT FUCKING PRoPOSED TO INFRONT OF ME yeonjun changed group's name to "moa bitchFUL era"

taehyun: thats nice. good for them. yeonjun: AT SEND OFF? ??? I THOUGHT MOAS WERE LIKE US??? you: bitchless? yeonjun: YES? WHAT HAPPENED TO TOGETHERNESS? kai: no you've got a point

soobin: that's crazy me personally if someone proposed to me in front of bebe rexha I would looking at them with a blank expression and ask "who dis?" ngl beomgyu: don't speak, peasant soobin: ? you: what's up with you two? kai: soobins is in another dating scandal with the same guy as last time and beomgyus mad because (a) soobin didn't deny it (b) he didn't tell any of us and (c) the week prior, they were on another bromance trip again :3

yeonjun: ik its pride month, and I'm happy for you beomgyu or condolences BUT WE AS A COLLECTIVE NEED TO PREPARE FOR DISASTER! CRISIS! SSSSOOOSSS beomgyu: kys soobin: im NOT dating Seonghwa, Q, Keonhee or Zhang Hao guys ^.^ kai: WHORE why do you remember all their names you: exactly!!! why do you have other friends Choi Soobin?????? beomgyu: oh but when I say it I'm gay huh 😒 yeonjun: HELLOou*oo))000? ARE WE JUST GOING TO IGnORE THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM? MOA NO BITCHLESS ERA??? beomgyu: you're an elephant in the room taehyun: Oh, dear god. I fear you may actually be onto something yeonjun. What if we lose our fanbase? Should I start posting thirst traps again? Guys seriously. you: NO 🙅‍♀️🚫🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️ we cannot go back to the dark ages PLSLLSLLSLS those tik tok posting schedules era was BRUTAL

yeonjun: Taehyun I love your big sexy wrinkled brain please don't change no jungkook kai: remember that time Namjoon exposed tyun for his JK wallpaper LMAOOOOOOOOOO taehyun: huening kai. kai: apologies. sorrows. soobin: oh my god no yeah pls TAEHYUN U ARE SO RIGHT y/n start first!!! guys!! this is an emergency!!!!!!!!!!!!! you: SHUTUTUT UPPUPPUPU yeonjun: Hes right, youre our main visual

beomgyu: guys if MOA start marrying each other does that mean no more fan service? if so I say lets support the movement!!! SICK and TIRED of seeing those "Y/N MARRY ME" comments on my welives soobin: hey I comment those taehyun: ??? you: well yeonjun: this reminds me of that one time I was on tik tok and a yeonjun x y/n imagine came up about us getting married and leaving txt OH MY GOD WAS THAT GOD FORESHADOWING kai: since when did you believe in god??? yeonjun: GUYS WHAT IF MOAS GETTING MARRIED ACTUALLY MEANS THAT Y/N AND I ARE GETTING MARRIED AND WE'LL LIVE HAPPILY E VER AFTER AND TXT WILL NOT GO EXTINCT AND WE KISS AND WE HOLD HANDS AND ONE DAY WE FALL INLOVE DEADASS AND HAVE 3 KIDS AND WE LIVE TOGETHER FOR THE REST OF OUR LIVES AND RAISE LITTLE MODEL FASHION BABIES I CAN STYLE AND THEYD HAVE SUCH GOOD GENES DO YOU SEE THE VISION

beomgyu kicked yeonjun from moa bitchFULL era beomgyu: now that that's over, how about we go get ice cream? taehyun: sure. kai: ICE CREAM >>>.<<< ^////^

soobin: can we add him back i kinda like when he's off his hinges wait yes we can because I'm the leader and I say so HAHA soobin added yeonjun to moa bitchFUL era yeonjun: thanks soobin soobin did you know that I love you you know soobin? soobin kicked yeonjun from moa bitchFUL era soobin: boy wth was that you added yeonjun to moa bitchFUL era you: guys what if I said i have a long term low maintenance long distance low commitment casual boyfriend

you left moa bitchFUL era kai: ????? soobin: there's a g*n in my mouth actually yeonjun: did I just get cheated on? taehyun: wasn't I the long term low maintenance low commitment casual bf? wdym long distance?? kai: ????? x2 beomgyu: ☹️☹️?? I THOUGHT WE WERE SOULMATES?? soobin: ??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

A/N: they’re all a little insane in today’s ep. sorry!

[emeraldbabygirl]

@witchy-weve-monbebe BEHOLD MY MASTERPIECE 🥰🥰🥰🥰 I FUCKING LOVE IT SO MUCH IT LOOKS SO COOL JUST LIKE IN MY HEAD HEHEHEEH UWU I LOVE IT AHHHHHH. I’m so excited to make more I want to make some for Davin but I don’t have a theme yet. I want this as a wallpaper but I haven’t figured out how to make wallpapers yet on Picsart. This was so fun and I love the way it turned out :)

[bobbin-buckley]

So Lonely In Her Mansion

Cairo Sweet x Writer!Fem!Reader

Summary: She’s so lonely in her mansion, so she calls you over

Warnings: Wine drinking, cigarettes mentioned, heavy make-out & and implied smut near the end

y/e/c: Your eye color

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/n..can you call me back? I miss you..”

“It’s so lonely in my mansion..”

Your breath hitches.

Listening to her voicemail sent shivers down your spine.

Cairo rarely called, texted or even voice-mailed you. She was really just an independent woman. She didn’t have many friends, and her parents were gone on business trips every month.

But in this case she seems sooo lonely she called you. You!

You of all people, you’re surprised she called you and not her friend Winnie Black, even if they ghosted each other.

Yet she called you

After hearing this, her voice sounds so..solitary..maybe even desperate..

She obviously really needed the company, needed you to accompany her. You picked up your phone again, pulling up the call button and pressing it.

The call is quickly answered by her. It almost seems like she was staring at her phone while she waited for you to call her back.

“Hey…I miss you..”

Her voice sounds soft. You could hear her sigh on the other end, she sounded bored. You smiled a bit when you heard her voice, chuckling a bit at her sigh.

“..hey Cairo. I miss you too..”

You did, you did miss her. The both of you only had one or two classes together, it being English and Spanish..

She was silent for a moment, taking a deep breath before speaking again. She was obviously nervous..talking to you.

“I would really like to see you right now, it’s so lonely here..can you come over?”

You smiled, feeling wanted for once in your life, “yeah, I can.” “Good.”

Cairo was excited..yet calm about it. She hasn’t had anytime to talk with you, she’s been dealing with her own problems. Neither of you had much in common, it was a surprise when she asked for your number a few days ago…

“Alright, on my way…see you in five.”

“I’ll be waiting..”

Cairo lived in a Mansion. She was rich, her parents were lawyers, and gone most of the time. You’ve never been to her house, but you just new where she lived..I mean how could you miss it? It’s a huge mansion. Even if it does live in the woods..it isn’t hard to find. The large building almost reminded you like a movie.

The front gate slowly opened and you eased your car past it, her front yard was pretty. A beautiful landscape with a fountain.

Once you pulled in, you noticed her.

She was standing right outside the front door on the last step of the stairs. She was wearing a grey silky dress that made her cleavage pretty visible, her dark brunette hair was a bit ruffled, brown eyes piercing your e/c.

She looked so ethereal

You stepped out of your car with your bag, walking in the rain to get to her. She watched your every move like a tiger, she seemed so glad you were here.

She looks at your features, she’s never been this close to you before. Yeah you have class together, but you sit far back as she sits in the front.

“You came.”

“You called.”

You smiled, and she smiled.

“Come in, it’s cold and rainy..”

She grasped your hand gently and brought you inside, as you walked in it was definitely so aesthetic…

The green wallpaper, dark brown wood floors, perfect minimum lighting. You could tell this Mansion really gives her inspiration.

She brought you into her living room, it was pretty big. Maybe twice the size of your living room.

It had large vertical windows with big green curtains, a big fireplace on the opposite wall and it was on, a bookshelf of many books, a grand piano in the corner of the room and a massive leather couch which Cairo sat on

She patted the spot next to her. You approached her and sat down in that spot, facing her. You watched her grab the wine bottle and pour some in two separate glasses, handing you one.

“Are you cold?” She glanced at you again, sipping her wine.

You smile and take the glass, drinking a small sip before answering, “not really, the fire is helping.” The fire was spewing a nice orange from the wood.

“That’s good, I want you to be comfortable.”

You nod in agreement, looking around the room once again. “I see where you get such inspiration,” “definitely, this is my favorite room in the mansion.” She glances around the room too.

“Do you also write? Like scripts, novels and stuff?” “Anything really, though I enjoy mainly script writing.” She smiles, watching your lips as you talk.

“Have you had the chance of adapting them into a film?” “Eh, I don’t have that much confidence in my writing.” You paused, sipping more wine. “Which reminds me.”

You sat down the wine glass, turning to your bag and grabbing out a bunch of papers. Cairo watches as you open the bag, curious. But she’s excited to see what you’ve brought.

You set down the papers on her lap, “these are some of the scripts I wrote that I’d like for you to read.”

She’s a bit astonished at your words as she glances the papers in her lap. She’s never been asked or given the privilege of reading someone else’s work, especially in person with them. And she’s excited.

She sets her wine glass aside, picking up the papers and starts to view through em’. Her facial expression changes, she’s amazed at your work. Admiring how you write really pulls her in.

“I-it’s not much but..” “I didn’t know you could write so well,” she cuts you off. “It’s very good Y/N, really.”

Her eyes were glued to your papers, she seems really intrigued. Her brown eyes were sparkling with delight.

You shrug at her words. “I’m telling the truth, really. I think you should put these in a film.” She finishes looking at the scripts, sighing a bit.

“What is it?”

She glanced back at you, looking in your eyes. “Can I ask something..a little personal?”

She seems a little nervous now, you can tell by her body language. Her hands are fidgety, tapping her foot on the hard wood floor, eyes searching for something in yours.

“I suppose.”

Cairo’s eyes lit up a bit, taking a deep breath before asking her question.

“Why aren’t you in a relationship?”

The question caught you off guard, you didn’t expect this. I mean- coming from Cairo you’d think she wasn’t so nervous about it.

Your eyebrow furr, “should I be in one?” “Well, you seem like you need one. You’re just so beautiful and..talented, sweet, real discreet, but most of all your personality is..well you.”

She gets a bit closer to you now

You blushed, “y-you think I’m all those things?”

Cairo stares directly into your eyes, blushing a deep crimson red. The wine getting into her system, and you as well.

“You are one of the most loveliest women I’ve ever met. I seriously have never met someone as endearing as you. You’re just…perfect.”

Perfect

She described you as perfect

She bites her lower lip, waiting for your response. Your gaze had softened at her words, blushing even more.

“I- I don’t know what to say..” you chuckled.

“I’m just being honest Darling…”

Placing a hand on your forearm, creasing your skin with her delicate fingers. That you noticed had black nail polish and..her hands are very..well- manly..

“Thank you..”

“You’re welcome, I’m really just telling the truth.”

She moves some hair out of her face, leaning closer to you. She smiles more and the both of you are getting hot under the collar, the wine was definitely getting to you.

“You’re..gorgeous too..”

She grins, her dimples being very visible. She trails her hand down to your waist, giving it a small squeeze.

“You’re so sweet. You’ve made my night by coming over..”

“It’s not like I had anything better to do.”

“Still..you could’ve been doing anything else. You could have said no and continued your evening alone..yet you chose to come here.”

“Well you called, and I can’t say no.”

She laughs a bit, her hand playing with your hair. “You’re so funny. You could have rejected and did something else… but again you came here. Now you’re mine for the whole evening.”

You start to lean closer to her too. She can’t help but grin more as she notices how you want this too. Cupping your jaw and rubbing your cheek, her other arm around your neck playing with the back hairs. Her eyes have never left yours as she gets closer.

“Mine.”

“Yours.”

Her eyes are now filled with lust, she really wants you she wants you so bad. She pulls you closer, her lips hovering near yours. You could smell the wine from her breath, maybe even cigarettes.

Cairo’s lips finally meet yours, pulling you down on-top of her as her back hits the couch, your hands on either side of her head.

You feel your body pressed against hers, as her other arm wraps around your neck. She kisses you with deep passion, the thumping of your heart beating faster as you both become intertwined in this kiss. Her lips feel so warm, tasting that sweet wine and tone of cigarettes. She is really showing a side of her you've never seen before.

Her other arm that's around your neck starts slowly making its way down to your chest, groping it. She's kissing you so aggressively, not wanting this to end and she's starting to get really hot and passionate with you. You can feel her warmth as her body presses against yours. You notice how tight the grip she has on you, she wants to keep you close to her. Her legs wrap around you now, she wants you close. She wants you so badly

Her tongue slips in, twirling around with yours. The hand on your chest is now tight on your neck, not squeezing but keeping you more in place. You groan into her mouth, sending a sharp sensation down her hot body.

After about a good five minutes of shoving tongues done one another throats, she pulls back catching her breath and strains of saliva on her lips. Your breath is heavy, blushing so hard at the sight below you.

Her cheeks are flushed, eye fucking you, arms still tight on your neck, and mouth gaped open. “You’re a good kisser.” “You too.”

She laughs, “the wine is really getting to us..cause I’m still so desperate for more.”

“Same..”

Cairo smirks, that same desire still in her eyes. You know whatever she’ll do next she won’t hold back.

She starts to kiss your cheek, down to your jaw then neck. She whispers into your ear for a moment; “I wanna fuck you so bad…”

Your face heats up, and she stared into your eyes with just pure lust.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She grabs your hand and brings it down to her womanhood, continuing to kiss your neck.

She swims back up to your lips, kissing your passionately as she grinds a bit on your hand.

“..I wanna be yours..” she mutters against your lips. “You will be.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yippie! New post!

I actually liked this one

And I’ll take any requests!

[betelgeuses-wife]

Beetlejuice x fem reader [slight hurt/then comfort fix]

Reader is an adult with a job, living in the beetlejuice house. Fine for 16+ but bear in mind the POV of character for this fic.

-----

Notes: written for fem reader. Fem pet names.

Type: oneshot

Genre: hurt/comfort

Length: short/medium? Idk word count

Warnings: not sure if any are needed. Some suggestive comments on Bee's part.

Barely proofread.

Do not steal my work or copy and post anywhere else.

-------

The clock was still chiming as you walked in the door to the house, the bird popped in and out of the clock but the sequence had ended a moment later as you ditched your shoes and bag by the door for a later, more tired you that would remember it right before bed. The house was depressingly quiet, not like you had expected any different. It was just you after all. Well...you and one annoying ghost.

The aged wallpaper seemed greyer than usual and it only provoked your want to rip it off and put up a new pattern. You loved the house and how it was originally decorated but it was in need of some T.L.C. which was something you had the money for but not the time. Your frame slouched as you shuffled over to the couch and sat down on the edge, you knew why it was quiet.

After an argument yesterday about Bee always being around and in your space, especially when you had friends round or the odd date, you had selfishly made him disappear. You had been so frustrated that you said his name three times just to get him off your back but now you felt guilty. It was something that had plagued your mind all day. Nagging at you. You took a breath and rubbed your face, sighing before you spoke quietly to yourself.

"I'm such an ass. He was an ass first. But...still."

You didn't know if you should summon him, to do so would only to be for your own gain. To get some form of comfort. Because you had no one else. Not right now. You would be selfish to. You knew that. So you sat there alone, flicking the TV on though you barely watched it. You couldn't help but think about what Bee had told you over the last couple of years. How he married and it didn't work out. How he helped the couple who lived here before and was let down. And he had helped you. Albeit for a deal. But you had kept up your end of the deal until yesterday. And even still, without asking or without expecting anything he had helped you out with much more than you deserved. He kept an eye on you. Made sure you were taken care of when you got hom even though he'd act like he wasn't doing it for you and it was just out of boredom.

And you had sent him away. All because, what? You didn't like that he called out the new friends you made who said things they shouldn't have? Because the dates you brought home did something that made you uncomfortable? Did you really get annoyed with him because he looked out for you and you were too stubborn to realise it?

How could you summon him for your own comfort after that? You couldn't. It would be an asshole move. You knew that. So you sat in your own pathetic guilt for the evening. You heated up a meal you had made and frozen earlier in the week, it was a lousy meal without your usual dining experience. The reruns of shows didn't seem as funny as they usually did either. You sighed heavily and tried to power through your dinner but suddenly you didn't feel hungry anymore. The day was was feeling heavier by the minute and you contemplated just having a shower and going to bed.

You forced yourself from your spot on the couch and threw the rest of your meal away before placing your dirty dishes in the sink. You'd do that later. Tomorrow. You didn't really have the energy to care in that moment.

You convinced yourself that maybe getting an early night would be best. Then you'd have a longer weekend if you didn't sleep in. You were lying to yourself that you'd get a good night's sleep. You put your shoes away on the rack and lazily placed your bags up against the wall. It was good enough to not be a trip hazard later at least. It felt like you were dragging your body up the stairs but your mind was elsewhere, the pesky thoughts of how lonely it must be for Bee. He was probably up in the tiny model graveyard. That's where he had been before.

Sure, Bee had said some nasty things too yesterday. A slur of names. Theoretical accusations too. But you had still sent him back to where ever he had been before. You could've just gone to bed or the bathroom. Out of respect he kept out of those places unless, for whatever reason, you called for him while there. You had other options and you still picked to say his name three times. What a dick move.

Those thoughts swam in circles in your mind as you wandered into your bedroom, your dazed mind barely able to figure out your next move. You showered and pulled on your worn shirt that had transitioned from outerwear to comfy bed top which was paired with a pair of shorts from a set but you had lost the shirt to it years ago. A strange combination that was quite normal for you now.

You climbed into bed, the sheets were fresh as you had fallen asleep on the couch yesterday, a strangely nice surprise that you welcomed. Freshly clean, comfy clothes, you should've felt content and ready for sleep and yet you stared out the window numbly. You laid there, waiting for sleep set in, waiting for your eyes to grow tired but it seemed your mind was far too determined for that. You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment.

"Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice." And you waited.

And waited some more.

But there was just silence.

You opened your eyes and still the room was empty. Until you looked over at the door frame where the pale man in a striped suit was leaning. His eyes on his hands as he picked at his nails before crossing him arms. He looked less than pleased.

"Well, thank ya for lettin' me out, toots. Nice t'know ya need me." His words were anything but sweet this time. The sarcastic poison dripped from his words. The tone just made you sink back into bed without a retort unlike you usually would.

"I'm sorry I sent you away. I shouldn't of. You can have free reign of the house. I'm getting an early night anyway..." Your voice was quiet. Defeated. Bee seemed to notice and instead of his usual mocking manner, he moved around to the empty side of the bed and sat down.

"Doll, ya really think bein' put in time out for a day is gunna do much t'me? I'm a ghost! A day's nothin'." You watched as he exclaimed and moved to get comfortable on the bed; sat up against the pillows and the headboard, his legs crossed at the ankles.

"I don't know...I promised I wouldn't. I made a deal and I broke it. Like the people here did before...I thought you'd hate me." You hated the whole 'woe is me' confession but it still needed to be said.

You heard a snort and glanced up to see Bee looking out the window before shifting his eyes onto you.

"Hate ya? C'mon. Ya think I could hate ya for that? Annoyed? Sure. Ready t'make the rest of ya life a livin' hell? Definitely. But it'd take more than that t'make me hate you, sweetcheeks"

You sighed and shifted under the blankets, you felt a little relieved but still also felt bad for what you did.

"Do you think..." Your words trailed off.

"Do I think what, Toots?"

"Do you think you could stay here tonight? Just until I fall asleep anyway..."

"Oh? You're invitin' me to sleep with ya?" You watched as his annoying smirk grew.

"Bee. Fine. Get out. I'll sleep by myself." You stated as you turned away from the man. Your back now facing him.

"Hey- hey- hey-! I'll behave. I promise! I'll just lay 'ere. Like a statue! See!" You heard his voice desperately pipe up.

"Put some pyjamas on then. No shoes on the bed." You mumbled as you rolled back over onto your other side, watching as Beetlejuice got up and change into striped pyjamas with a cloud of smoke. He did a little show of jazz hands for added affect.

"Ta-da-! How'd I look? Sleek? Sexy? Seducing?" His words drawn out while he posed for each word.

"Just get in the damn bed, Bee. Before I change my mind." Rolling your eyes at the theatrics.

You watched as he scrambled to get under the covers and shifted closer to you. And closer still until you stopped him.

"Don't push your luck, Juice." Your words earned a groan. You closed your eyes and tried to settle, laying in silence for a while. You knew he was just pretending to sleep so you'd feel comfortable. You peeked up and scooted closer until you were nearly against his chest. Perhaps this was too close. You tried to back away but you found Bee's arm over your waist.

"Don't try t'run away now, Sweets." His voice was low and gravelly but he still spoke in a softer voice than usual.

You huffed a little but didn't move away again. You didn't speak for a moment. You just laid silently, eyes on Bee's chest though you were lost in thought.

"Work got the better of ya today"

"I never said that."

"Ya don't have'ta"

"Great. Glad to know you can tell I hate my job."

"I can tell ya tired, Dollface. Its'all I meant"

His words were strangely comforting. He was trying at least.

"Stop tryna be s'tough and lemme help ya"

He was right. Usually after a bad day you'd cling to him and watch some stupid show. But now you were in bed. A place he wasn't ever allowed before. This felt...different.

You sighed and snuggled up to him like you usually would on the couch, you felt his arms tighten around you before one moved up to the back of your head, his fingers gently running through your hair.

"I'll be 'ere, Doll. I ain't got anywhere else t'go anyway. Or maybe we could get things heated up if ya cold-"

"Beetlejuice."

"Alright- just layin here. Like a statue."

You soon started to drift off to his familiar touch. His arm holding you close and his fingers massaging your scalp, it lulled you into a deep sleep. It had you questioning whether you should invite Bee to bed more often.

[callmearcturus]

Paradise Killer is 6 dollars on Steam until May 16 and I am here to hard sell you all on it because it's one of the best games I've ever played.

I'm gonna go beyond giving you a bunch of punchy keywords and telling you it's queer as hell and making meme-y jokes, and I'm going to actually tell you what this game is.

So top-level, WHAT IS PARADISE KILLER?

Mechanically, Paradise Killer is an open-world murder mystery. There is zero combat but a lot of exploration of a very unique location. The majority of your time is going to be walking about Paradise 24, looking for people to discuss the case with and for clues that are scattered around the world.

One of the most interesting concepts in Paradise Killer that is both mechanical and narrative is deciding What Is Your Truth? What Is A Truth And What Is A Fact? From the moment you start the game proper, you can turn 180 degrees and begin the trial and decide who the killer is, before talking to anyone about the case.

For example, getting into the actual crime scene takes a lot of puzzle solving to unlock the sealed room where the victims were killed. But maybe instead of examining the crime scene, you talk to everyone on the island and think you have a good idea of what happened.

Meaning: It is perfectly valid to decide you have the answer to the mystery and just go complete the trial whenever you personally are ready. YOU decide when this ends.

Which frankly I think is a cool-as-fuck concept. Also, I fully believe if three different people find EVERY CLUE and talk to EVERY SUSPECT and hear EVERY PIECE OF EVIDENCE.... they might decide on three different truths entirely. And THAT to me is ingenious mechanical design I have not seen anywhere else in a video game.

Okay let's stop burying the lede and talk about the world of Paradise Killer.

The non-batshit version:

Paradise Killer takes place on a big, beautiful island, the 24th Paradise. The architecture is a delightful mix of black obsidian obelisks, brutalist monuments, opal crystals to slumbering alien gods, garden paths, luxury yachts, and a whole lot of gold and neon.

Neo-occultist urban residential vaporwave-core. If you are like me, you will be taking a lot of screenshots. My wallpaper on my computer is Paradise Killer.

Your interactions with the cast are done in visual novel-style, though I feel I have to shout out this isn't your stock Ren'py UI experience. Every single aspect of the way the game looks compounds the vibes even further.

And the characters are infuckingcredible.

(Notice the different font? This game has A FUCKTON OF ACCESSIBILITY OPTIONS, including dyslexic font options.)

Sammy Day Break, born under the sign of Shadow Zero, is the local distillery and bartender for the Syndicate. Talk to him about what's unique about the whiskey he's made on Paradise 24, or about the good old days of the Syndicate.

Is Doctor Doom Jazz, born under the sign of Cosmic Deceit, really that carefree about what happened? Is his willingness to rekindle his fling with Lady Love Dies just a diversion to hide something? Well, he's one of the most cooperative witnesses on the Island.

Crimson Acid has been through a helluva lot since the last time she saw Love Dies. Blessed by the gods with her stunning rack (of horns! OF HORNS!), she's become quite the idol now. So why is she also an information broker? And can you figure out what her true feelings for Love Dies are?

Between all of these conversations, you can explore the island and collect RELICS and BLOOD CRYSTALS (the local currency) and CITY POP SONGS.

Okay so the Slightly Batshit Version:

Shinji: The Syndicate worships alien gods who want to drown the world in war and blood. Lady Love Dies: I don't see how that makes us the bad guys.

You are LADY LOVE DIES, born under the sign KISS ME TO THE MOON, the INVESTIGATION FREAK. She was exiled to the Idle Lands several cycles ago for falling prey to the seduction of the god Damned Harmony and endangering the entire Syndicate. Only now, with the death of the Council on the eve of Paradise 25, is Love Dies summoned back to solve the murder.

The Syndicate are a group of functionally immortal humans from all across history who are trying to create the perfect bubble of reality, their utopic Paradise where they can safely revive their dead gods. They were granted many powers and boons by their first god, Silent Goat, and hope through rescuing more gods they will grow in power.

How do you create a bubble of reality to do all this totally ethical shit? Easy! You abduct a bunch of normie humans to live on your island to use as a mass sacrifice to generate energy to fuel the creation of each Paradise. If only the outsiders would stop getting in the way!

Paradise Killer's world is delightfully out of its goddamn mind and half of the fun of the game is just picking up little nuggets of information about each member of the Syndicate, the gods, why each Paradise failed (there was an outbreak of vampirism that took out like three of the Paradises???), and just the way this universe works.

Okay this post is already too long but I'm begging you all to give Paradise Killer a chance. It's gorgeous, it's funny, it's mechanically really interesting, it's chill as hell, it has an incredible soundtrack,

and you should try it.

I'LL SEE YOU IN A PERFECT 25 . . .

[stationintern]

Hello all!

This month was, truly, a beautiful month for me reading-wise. The birds were chirping, I found smut that made me sweat, and I revisited some old favorites. Let's jump right in. I am so excited to share these with you. (Hence why I am posting this a day early.)

Strap in!

Dwelling On Dreams by @the-sinking-ship for H/D Big Bang 2021, 135k, E

I reread this fic this month, and it was just as delicious as I remembered. There are aspects of this fic that felt burned into my memory, so it came as a shock to me when I realized that the last time I'd read this fic was over a year ago. Everything about it feels so vivid. Harry's magic, his raw sexual energy. Draco's ability to make me scream at my phone and throw a mini temper-tantrum. I love flashbacks, and this fic has them in abundance. If you're looking for a thick read with complex characters and an interesting case to solve, look no further!

Hear Me Out by @rainstormradish for @dronarryfest 2024, 5.2k, E

I am pleased to announce that I have officially bought my ticket and jumped on the Dronarry train. You've all convinced me. This fic, in particular, is what really got the ball rolling. This was... immaculate. When I said I found smut that made me sweat, I MEANT IT. I had to, like, physically reconnect with my limbs after I read this. A bit of fake dating to start you off, and it only gets better from there.

The Way You Say My Name by InnerLilith 5.3k, E

Ya'll ever just bark at your phone? Sometimes, a girl just wants to read about Harry Potter going absolutely bonkers over Draco Malfoy calling him sweet little names. Very hot, very important to me.

Please hold. Your call is very important to us./Bloodlust and Bureaucracy by @goblinmatriarch 5k, T/8.5k E

DOUBLE FEATURE! I love the smell of wizarding bureaucracy in the morning. What a little world you have built! Authors who can create a new little piece of the wizarding world to explore mean the world to me. Very interesting in regards to how the medical system in the wizarding world relates to its real-world counterparts. Also, some biting action. Very smart, very hot.

Crossed Wires by @skeptiquewrites 11k, E

Critics are raving. "Literally ripping up the wallpaper in my home," says one reviewer. "Gnawing at the bars of my enclosure," says another. Bureaucracy lovers win forever and ever. Also, Draco gets to wear many suits. Harry Potter the reluctant politician. I couldn't have wished for more.

Our Objective Remains Unchanged by @citrusses 46k, E

BOATS, REPRESSION, MORE BOATS, EDGING (for sports purposes), EVEN MORE REPRESSION, AND WILL YOU BELIEVE ME IF I SAY THERE'S MORE BOATS. I don't know how you've done it, but you've managed to parallel the epic highs and lows of college rowing with the literal wizarding war. If that isn't talent, I don't know what is babe.

Truth or Dare? by @lettersbyelise 3.4k, E

There is truly nothing more intimate than jerking off your childhood rival while a party goes on around you. THAT, my friends, is the key to post-war, inter-house unity.

Borrowed Time by @the-starryknight for @dronarryfest 2024, 7.6k, E

Oh this was fire. What do you know about body swapping threesomes? Would you like to know more? Yes. Yes, you would.

Alrighty, I think that's all for now, folks. Very thankful to be in a fandom with so so so many talented people. You all blow my mind. Here's to another month of fantastic fiction!

See ya!

XX, Moon

[thesistersarcheron]

Pairing: Feysand Rating: E Words: ~4.5k Tags/Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Guardian-Ward Relationship, Arranged Marriage, Age Difference, Size Difference, Magical Adoption, Born Fae Feyre Archeron, Multi-POV Summary: When the High Lord of the Night Court meets a neglected but promising young artist, he decides to take her under his wing and move her to Velaris, so he can sponsor her education at the best art school the Night Court has to offer. (Or, the fic in which Rhys decides he can raise his young mate better than the Archerons can and actually does it.)

Read Chapter 2 on AO3 here or check out a snippet below the cut!

Feyre trails her fingers along the ruffled edge of a curtain, gazing out of the wide bay window that dominates the wall of her new bedroom at the small, moonlit courtyard below. 

She should be sleeping, but it eludes her in this strange place.

Beyond the window, fat mounds of burlap hint that there is a garden down there, hidden away from the wintry chill, but a little fountain at the heart of the stone-paved pathway burbles on without a care for the thin layer of hoarfrost coating the world. 

Someone has enchanted it not to freeze, and for a moment, Feyre wonders if the High Lord himself cast the charm. 

She nibbles at her lip as she considers it. It seems below him, to bother himself with small household tasks. It’s the sort of long-lasting magic that is out of reach for most lesser faeries, but she doubts that he would even notice its drain on his magic. 

She is, after all, standing in the heart of a city kept veiled by his magic. By all the magic of his ancestors combined, kept woven in its neat tapestry by him. If the High Lord can keep this place—Velaris, she reminds herself, mouthing the foreign word she learned just a few hours earlier with her clumsy tongue—hidden beneath a web of secrecy and ancient warding spells, then a simple warming enchantment for a small fountain should be a mere drop in the well of his power.

And Feyre knows the stories well enough to know that he must be pulling from a deep, deep well.

Craning her neck until her forehead presses against the icy glass, she tries to look beyond the row of townhouses stretching out to either side of her window. Her eyes strain to glimpse the lights of the city she saw when she first arrived, but she only succeeds in making the glass go foggy, her hot breath melting the rime that started forming not long after the sky darkened. 

From this window, she can only see the backs of townhouses and their courtyards all the way down the street.

Townhouses.

The High Lord of the Night Court lives in a townhouse.

And her father had winnowed her directly to its doorstep. 

Feyre presses her fingers to the glass. It’s warmer here than it is in the countryside—by just a few degrees, really, but she thinks it feels more pleasant than the biting chill at the heart of the Night Court’s lands.

Earlier in the evening, she’d barely had the time to finish sneaking bites of her cake beneath her covers before Papa appeared in the door to her room, tugging at the collar of his fine tunic. There was a tightness around his eyes, a stiffness to the set of his shoulders, and for a moment she feared he was cross with her.

It would be the very first time, if so. Papa was never the stern parent; he’d always let Mama take that role.

So Feyre had shifted until she sat fully upright, warily shuffling the icing-smeared plate and fork deeper into the tangle of her sheets.

“What mischief you’ve gotten yourself into this time, my dear,” was all Papa said, in the end. He spoke slowly, as if choosing every word with extreme caution. “You’ve a talent for it, but this…” 

She sat very still when Papa trailed off, seating himself at the foot of her bed, and watched him cast a glance at the wall over her nightstand. At the sketches and watercolors pinned to the fine silk wallpaper. He had never before paid such attention to her art, and as he stared and stared now, she got the uncomfortable feeling that her father was, for the very first time, looking directly at her. 

She wondered what he saw that made his brow crease so deeply.

“Oh, Feyre,” he sighed when he was done looking, finding her ankle through the covers. His hand trembled as he grasped it, and she realized that he wasn’t angry with her. It was sorrow that made his eyes crease at the corners—sorrow that suffused his voice as he said, “You have a talent for many things, it seems.”

Still uneasy, Feyre had looked at her paintings too, trying to figure out which could put her father—her charming, good-humored Papa—in such a state. But all she saw were sketches of the interesting bugs that Elain found in the garden and paintings of the nymphs that lived in the wood and turned into trees whenever they caught Feyre looking and one portrait of Nesta that made her look more like a feral she-wolf than a girl.

(It wasn’t so obvious. At least Feyre hadn’t given her sister a visible tail.)

“Mama said it was a ladylike pursuit,” she muttered when no answers came to her.

“Ah, yes. Yes, she wouldn’t allow it otherwise, I suppose.” Papa nodded sagely. Though his mouth twisted into a smile, it didn’t meet his eyes. “I do believe she could do without all that traipsing about in the wood and riverbeds to find your subjects, though.”

Beneath the covers, her scraped knees smarted and her thigh seemed to burn where it was pressed against the plate, but Feyre schooled her expression into one of unknowing innocence. 

———> Read the rest on AO3!