#feel free to pick out parts you like and don't like

[wellofdean]

tags via @ilarual: #literally this is the thing!!#Dean has not explicitly said the words ''please stop leaving''#but he has tried very hard through his actions to express that#AND!!!! CRUCIALLY!!! BECAUSE DEAN IS ACTUALLY A PRETTY GOOD VERBAL COMMUNICATOR!!#he has ALSO!!! verbally expressed his desire for Cas to stick around using OTHER words!!!#not as explicit as ''please stop leaving and stay with me'' but absolutely conveying the same sentiment#what the hell do you think ''we're stronger together'' and the whole ''cursed or not'' speech were about????#like Cas needs it to be more clear than that to Get It bc he does not understand how his constant absence HURTS#but Dean does not want to BE more explicit than he already is#bc he feels like he's been VERY direct on the subject already#he literally told Cas he needs him. TWICE. and has prayed that he needs him there with them at least once that I can recall#Dean thinks he's been EXTREMELY explicitly clear already!!!#and that Cas is constantly leaving bc despite hearing Dean's tacit request to stay Cas is REFUSING that request and doesn't WANT to stay#he keeps asking and getting rebuffed WHY would he be louder and needier about it when he thinks all it's going to get him#is the emotional equivalent of a slap to the face?#in no universe is Dean going to ask for something louder when from his POV he's already been begging for it and being refused like????#this is one of those cases where neither of them is actually doing anything wrong#Dean is communicating perfectly fine it's just Cas is autistic and missing some subtext#Cas isn't wrong for prioritizing his missions when he doesn't understand that Dean wants him there as much as he wants to be there#they're just talking past each other and a deeper conversation or two would fix this problem for them#they just don't realize that conversation is necessary#bc Dean thinks he's been heard and understood and Cas is politely declining his request for more time together#and Cas is unaware that that's something Dean has been asking for at varying volume levels for years#and instead bc of his trauma feels compelled to ''earn'' his place in the family with feats of strength so to speak#no one is at fault for their emotional needs not being met it's just a miscommunication#unfortunately the fandom focuses super hard on only one part of that equation and thus the takes on it are so often Bad™#and ignore Cas's motivations and role as a complex actor with his own trauma and emotional issues and blind spots#anyway they're losers I adore them both <3#spn

OMG thank you. NO ONE IS AT FAULT FOR THEIR EMOTIONAL NEEDS NOT BEING MET.

I love them both so much, and they are so fucking hapless about this one particular thing: they are in love and Chuck keeps fucking with them.

And you are so right, @ilaurel, that Cas's motivations and traumas and complexities are ignored by so much of the fandom. I, an inveterate Dean enjoyer, who thinks Dean is a darling who has never committed a wrong that couldn't be forgiven if he just makes his bewildered wet eyes sad face, cannot understand why we gotta PICK ONE? Like, can't an autistic trauma survivor who's just learning the ropes on this whole 'free will' thing, and who's in love with god's favourite boytoy make a mistake here and there? Can we just give him a fucking break because his heart is the right place? By which I mean in Dean's lap?? If Dean and Cas can forgive each other, can't we just let them both be beautiful fuck ups and love them both?

Personally, I forgive them both their trespasses and hope they get to make out forever in a million beautiful hereafters.

on a realer note i do think people forget that a huge part of the destiel equation is that cas won’t stay. like yeah we focus a lot on the fact that dean won’t ask him to, but cas never sticking around is a huge factor there

[323cutie]

Ok not to give tonal whiplash from the sweetness of Woo and Jongho to absolute freak nasty thoughts buuuuuut… I was rereading the sextape with Wooyoung post you did a while back and it got me thinking… say it is a video call with Sannie… how the hell does he even react to that? And how likely is to end with you in bed with both of them one night because he can’t fucking get the images out of his head? And how encouraging would Wooyoung be about it? And how sweet and hard and comforting and also mean would they be together? -🐍

so uh. Um. yeah. splitting this up into 2 parts i couldnt help myself. nonnie ur killing me.

cw ୨୧ erm. sex tape? phone sex? threesome? kind of dubious consent on san's end so tread with caution but he gets into it, blowjobs, one line abt face slapping, a teeny bit of hair pulling, wooyo is an instigator and a brat, finger sucking, masturbation (male, referenced), dirty talk

18+ mdni!!

"Say hi, baby."

Wooyoung's voice is hazy and disconnected, whiny behind the flash of his phone. It takes a little too long for you to even register what he said, prompting a light slap to your cheek from him, and you pull yourself off of his cock to look at where you're pretty sure the camera actually is.

"H-Hi, Sannie," you say, breathless, swallowing what spit collected in your mouth from sucking Wooyoung off. You don't really know what to say, so you let Wooyoung push your hair out of your face and blink wetly up into the light. There's a muffled sound and then you hear San for the first time since he picked up the phone.

"Fuck," he curses, voice obviously strained even through the speakers. From behind the flash you catch a glimpse of Wooyoung's savage smile. "What is -- Wooyoungie, what are you --"

You guide your mouth back onto Wooyoung's cock and sigh at the weight of it on your tongue. He groans and uses his free hand to hold your hair back, speaking, but not to you: "Thought we'd -- ah, fuck -- put on a little show for you, Sannie," he says. You look past the phone at him and his breath hitches. "Wanted to treat you."

"Treat me?" San breathes, and you take Wooyoung's cock just a little deeper to see what both of them will do. The reaction is immediate, a sharp tug on your hair and a moan from Wooyoung simultaneous with the whimper you hear San let out. "This is..."

You pull back and Wooyoung lets you. "Wanna look good for you, Sannie," you say. Your voice is hoarse but you don't think they care.

Wooyoung jumps in immediately. "Looks so pretty, huh?" He eggs San on, hand squishing your cheeks together then pushing two fingers into your mouth. "Perfect for sucking cock, right?"

The noise San lets out is obscene, something crossed between a bitten back whimper and a gasp. Addicting, and you want to hear it over and over again. After half a second, he says, "fuck, yeah, so pretty. So beautiful."

The praise warms you. "You touchin' yourself, Sannie?" You ask, the first few syllables crowded by Wooyoung's fingers in your mouth until he takes them out. There's panting, then another glimpse of Wooyoung's grin, and San must have nodded. You wish you could see him. Probably looks just as pretty as he says you are, red faced and wrecked, eager to feel.

"Go on, then," Wooyoung says, tapping the tip of his cock against your lips -- a prompt, a reminder. "We said we'd give him a show."

[beomiracles]

Beomie (man is just sick in my head i can't think of anybody else in txt able to do this) as the captor. Sickly arranging play hunt or hide and seek every month just for the thrill of it, making it super realistic and possible for his girl to escape but she always fails.

are u insane lol. I love this. full fic on this one when?

tw, kidnapping, imprisonment, prey/predator, beomgyu is lowkey very insane, injuries/blood.

your fingers dig into the soil, dirt gathering under your nails as you crawl forward. it was dark, you could barely make out the path ahead, but you knew that you had to keep going. his laugh, sinister and maniac, echoes around you, but where it's coming from you can't tell.

it was futile, you knew that much. he would do this every single time. he would feed you with hope, he would make you believe that this time, this time you actually had a chance. ― but he would never let you go, this was all part of his games.

still, as the light of the main road comes into vision, you slowly find yourself filled with that very hope. you crawl with newfound desperation, ignoring the flaring pain that shot through your bleeding leg. ― freedom was within your grasp.

"h-help..!" your voice is hoarse, strained thanks to the effort it took just to move forward. "someone help me!"

a branch snaps somewhere behind you, and your blood runs cold. beomgyu's voice echoes through the dark trees, the sound is sickening to your ears. ― "warm or cold?" he sing-songs, his light and cherry tone laced with malice.

you don't reply, intent on following the dim light ahead as you fight for your freedom, for your life. ― "oh come on now, give me a hint!" the demand is followed by a chuckle that made the leaves on the trees turn away. the whole forest cowered at the sound.

tears flow down your cheeks, and you bite down on your lip hard enough to draw blood, anything to stop yourself from making noise. this would be the time you actually made it, this would be your salvation. you would finally be free of him and you-

"warm."

his voice is closer now, a lot closer. fuck, how did he manage to trail you like this. you pick up your pace, your arms scraping the cold and hard ground as you crawl forward. you're panting, loud enough for him to hear you're certain of that.

bushes rustle behind you, twigs snapping and his sinister fucking laugh ringing in your ears. ― "warmer..." you can make out his voice perfectly now, he couldn't be far.

but the road was so close, it was just there, just within reach. you see cars passing, their strong headlights blinding you as they drive by. this time you don't care anymore, you scream at the top of your lungs, begging and pleading for someone to help you, to save you.

"please! please help me!" ― "help please!"

it's to no avail. there was no one coming for you now. you had no one to rely on but yourself. groaning in pain, you struggle forward, sweat pooling on your forehead and running down the sides of your face. ― "warmer!" he sounds excited, almost squealing now.

desperation consumes you, terror and fright pulsating with each furious beat of your heart. just a little more...just a tiny bit more...

a firm hand wraps around your ankle, his grip harsh and unforgiving. you freeze, your heart practically stopping as all hope vanishes within the blink of an eye. ― beomgyu's chuckle is low as it rumbles within his chest, and you can feel his hot breath against your neck.

"gotcha."

he yanks you backward and you let out an ear piercing scream as the lights of the road ahead shrink until they're no longer within sight. ― beomgyu flips you onto your back, his dark and wide pupils meeting your terrified eyes.

"you lost", he states, a wide grin plastered across his face. your stomach drops, and you struggle to swallow a big fat gulp. beomgyu's fingers are hot against your cheek as he turns you face in his hands. "it's alright.." he murmurs as he leans in to press a soft kiss to your lips. you cringe at the action.

"I'll let you try again next month."

[the-kingshound]

I loved the update just because it exists. I loved the bit with the mounts (especially Arthur's trying to ground MC) but my tiny bit of concrit is the "I know you're a mage" convo feels...shoehorned? Like we get the panic attack and Arthur just says he doesn't think the same way as Uther and it's just...It feels (imo) that the Hound once more just accepts Arthur at face value again? I loved the rewrite making the Hound more wary of Arthur, and this kinda felt like a slip? Idk it just feels like there could be...more there. Or perhaps Arthur will try to revisit the topic? Cause like idk about you but if I was just told "I don't want to do anything to you buuuuuut people in my court might," I'd feel threatened and like...I wouldn't believe a single word prior to the "my court might" part. Cause like the Hound is a political prisoner, the nobles (Our sister in law is amazing) made that clear, so it's just another chain Arthur is adding, a little "Be careful love, you don't know what SOMEONE might do if they found out you're a mage :) :)", you know?

And as someone who played as a Hound who is absolutely dreading this marriage (they literally feel like a prisoner) that whole thing kinda felt as if that wasn't an option? Like for example, the walking into the church thingy you have: I feel better, I'm not alone, and the "I am strong and proud" options, but no real option for...just numb? I personally just headcanoned the Hound was disassociated to the point they won't remember the day at all. (I kinda hope we might just get to breakdown with our brothers, or idk alone in the dark)

Also I forget, but is this a game where we have to rack up romance points to lock in? Or one we choose the route? Because I honestly didn't feel that my Hound would want to talk to anyone during what is (to them) a celebration of their collaring/house's defeat.

BUUUUT I truly do hope you take this as constructive. You won't please all of us, and you shouldn't try to. I love that you gave us even this and you are incredibly strong and lovely for pushing through everything. If I am out of line, feel free to ignore or tell me off and I'll just smash my Hound into a better mold for the story lol. After all, it is your story, tell it how you want.

I would really like to give you a long response to your very helpful feedback, but I fear I am lacking the energy to do so. I just want you to know that I hear you, and in truth you make really good points.

1) yeah I do admit I was getting close to burnout with writing in this update, and that scene in particular might have suffered for it. I'll revise it, and hopefully try to not make the interaction feel so jarring. (Note: did you try to pick the more... aggressive option? It goes in a different way, maybe it is less weird?)

2) you are totally right on the options for the marriage - especially because you can play a very numb MC. I'll either edit or add that option. Ohh and the breakdown with the siblings is peak idea. I'm writing that down.

3) as for the romance points: this game is focused strongly on MC. You can choose the pace of the relationship your Hound develops, and for romance, you need to first have some platonic points with said RO. Platonic means in this case that MC wants to spend time with them, and doesn't have to go further than what will become a lifelong friendship.

You do have to pick at least an option to have platonic points with a RO, but you won't get locked out of anything in this game. Every choice shapes your personal Hound's story, this is not a game that punishes you, or that is focused solely on romance.

Thank you for sending this in! This kind of feedback, especially if worded clearly and kindly lik you did, can be so helpful and I love getting it even if it makes me pause and rethink some things.

[theplumsoldier]

confession o'clock

summary: you ask eddie why the two of you have never tried dating

pairing: eddie diaz x f!reader

word count: 3,2k

warnings: alcohol, vulgar language, friends to lovers dynamic 18+ MDNI; unprotected sex, oral post sex (m!receiving), cum-eating, dirty talk, riding cowboi cock, creampie.

It was half past eight when you showed up at Eddie's doorstep in a flattering maroon silk dress with an equally tempting bottle of wine in your hand. His heart lurched, and he had to awkwardly scratch his stubble to hide his jaw dropping. You offered a kittenish smirk and held up the bottle, tilting your head in question.

He couldn't help but chuckle, opening the door wider, an invitation for you to unwind in the comforts of his home. “I take it the date didn't go well?”

“I don't know what you're talking about—I got a free bottle of wine,” you shrugged, wiggling your brows playfully as you stepped inside.

Eddie snickered and accepted it, closing the door behind you, and went into the kitchen as you slipped out of your heels with a grunt.

He poured two glasses and noticed the rim of lip gloss around the mouth of the flask, and an image of your lips around it drew itself in his mind. Eddie inhaled sharply, cursing himself for still thinking about you like this—at some point, he would have to get over you, right?

“So you uh—you wanna do disaster control or where’re we at?” he asked, bringing the glasses to where you sat on the couch.

You scooped your legs up under you and thanked him, running your hand through your hair and leaning your cheek against your palm. “God, no,” you snorted and took a sip of the wine, then leaned back contentedly. “I just wanna stay right here with my best friend, drink three hundred dollar wine, and watch whatever this is.”

Eddie chuckled and got settled on the other side of the couch, hanging his heavy arm over the backrest. You wanted to find comfort in it, have it around your shoulders, but you didn't want to make him uncomfortable—you just couldn't help the urge. Eddie always made you feel safe.

Although they were rare, you treasured these nights with Eddie. When you had told him about your upcoming date, he had been quick to inform you that Christopher was at a sleepover and that he was off duty so in case something went awry (as he had come to know was often the case when you cherry picked strangers from a dating app) you were welcome to come over. You had called him old-fashioned for steering clear of online dating, but it was hard to feel like he was missing out when all you seemed to get out of it was obnoxious guys wasting your time.

He was in a phase in his life where he had subconsciously decided dating wasn't for him. With all his time spent at the firehouse and with friends and family, there was little left to really do anything. He was convinced he had all he needed in his life to be happy. Not everything was in the way he would have liked, perhaps, but then again—not every wish could come true.

In the past year or so, Eddie had found himself thinking more and more about your relationship. You had somehow drilled your way so deep into his mind that he had become accustomed to you being a part of his everyday life—even if only in thought. He blamed Buck for the time he commented on how good you looked on New Year's Eve. Eddie watched you for too long and too longingly for his own answer to be nothing but a platonic agreement. Ever since then, not one day had gone by where you were not beautiful in his eyes.

So, a moment such as this one where you were spending your time with him, he really did feel like he had it all. This kind of love, if not romantic, was fulfilling enough for him to be content.

You spoke of everything and nothing, eyes on the screen but not really watching, just being in one another's company, and at some point the bottle was empty and your head was resting against Eddie's shoulder.

“Hey, Eddie?” you muttered, sleepy eyes glued to television. Eddie hummed in response, chest heaving slowly with deep breaths, fingers gently scratching at your scalp. You tilted your head to look up at him, a tired smile on your lips. “Thanks for making today a little less depressing.”

Something flashed across his face—worry, admiration—you couldn't tell before a soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Always,” he chuckled and ruffled the crown of your head, turning his drowsy eyes back to the TV.

You giggled and pushed his hand away, though you didn't loosen your grip and draped it over your frame instead, intertwining your fingers, silently admiring him, waiting for a reaction to the close proximity. He didn't seem to notice the change, chest still heaving with deep, content breaths, the remains of his grin still wearing on his features.

Hen’s words from the other night echoed from somewhere in your subconscious. 

“So you and Eddie have never gotten… You know—”

She had wriggled her eyebrows at you. 

“Down and dirty.”

“Hey, Eddie?” you said again, still watching him. He chuckled again before he returned his soft gaze to you. His eyes sparkled, and he replied with another hum. “Why were we never a thing?”

This took him by surprise. You saw it in those deep brown orbs of his before he could shield it. He didn't make any movements that suggested discomfort, though. He spoke calmly, “where's this coming from?”

You shrugged against him, returning your eyes to the screen to avoid his intense gaze. “I don't know, or—I mean… I guess, I just had this conversation with Hen, and it got me thinking—how come we never gave it a shot? I mean, we've known each other for what? Five years? And we've always had fun. We clicked right from the start, and we spend a lot of time together. Like, I know—for me it feels like one of us has always been seeing someone, but at the times where we didn't… Has it never crossed your mind? Us, I mean,” you rambled though you didn't feel as awkward as you figured you must sound. Perhaps it was the mix of wine and exhaustion, but you couldn't find it in you to be particularly embarrassed with Eddie—he made you feel too safe for such a thing. 

Eddie's shoulder heaved with your head, his chest filling with admission he had long considered equal to doomsday of your friendship. “Of course I have.”

When he didn't say anything else, you decided to press the matter. You grinned as you looked up at him. “Well, come on, Eds—humour me. Why have we never tried?”

He studied your expression for a moment before something between a snort and a scoff escaped him. “I guess it's ‘cause we're friends—and I don't want to do anything to compromise our friendship.”

You huffed, a little taken aback and shifted beside him, propping your elbow on his shoulder and resting your head in your palm. “I don't think you could ever do anything to ruin our relationship. I love having you in my life too much to let that happen.”

Eddie couldn't help the smile spreading to his eyes. “Well, then, if you've given this some thought, why are you only telling me this now? I know you're not the type of woman to wait around for the first kiss.”

You knew he was teasing you now, but there was truth to it, and the idea of you and Eddie sharing a kiss basically glued your hungry eyes to his lips. You wanted to taste them, you had for a long time. “I guess I didn't want to step on your toes either. But we're both single, and I think we know each other well enough to decide whether we stand a chance before doing something stupid. Besides, we've been drinking a bit, and it's just the two of us, so I guess it's confession o'clock.”

He nodded, chuckling. Eddie saw how you were looking at him, like you were just one wild thought away from taking what you wanted—and God, you really wanted him, didn't you? Eddie's tongue darted out to wet his lips, his hips shifting slightly. “‘N you don't think this would be a mistake?”

While he didn't particularly think this was merely tipsy ramblings, he feared being the one to drag you down a rabbit hole.

Lucky him, you knew Eddie well enough to know how hard he could be on himself, how he was probably doubting himself right now.

You moved a bit and rested your hand against his cheek, palm warm from the skin of your own, eyes flickering between his pouty lips and his brown poppy eyes. Your thumb grazed his lower lip as you leaned closer. “I think if this is a mistake, it's one I wanna make.”

Eddie's jaw clenched in your hand, nostrils flaring with a sharp inhale, and he swallowed. Smirking down on you, brow cocked and lust in his eyes. He looked so handsome like this. “What's stopping you then? You want a date first?”

A sly smirk formed as you tilted your head, challenging him. “I'd rather take that kiss first.”

Mere inches from each other, breaths mixing, lips ghosting, Eddie's hand snaked around your lower half, squeezing your hip encouragingly. “Then take it.”

Heat rushed through your body as you did exactly that. Connecting your lips in the gentlest of ways, you melted against him, completely unaware of the tension your body had amassed. The weight lifted from your shoulders and everything in the room bar the two of you ceased to exist, and a moan vibrated from your lips.

Eddie felt the hairs on the nape of his neck rise as he held you closer, pulling you onto his lap and eagerly kissing you, feeling your weight ground him to the moment. There was a constriction in his chest that loosened when your parted lips gave way to his tongue.

Your tongues danced in a battle of power, suddenly wide awake at the taste of the other. You held onto his shoulders, shifting in his lap to properly straddle him, and you gasped at the contact, having forgotten you were only layered in a thin dress and panties.

A low moan rumbled in his chest, panting as he broke the kiss, looking down between your bodies. Eddie's hand slid down your ass, palming at the supple flesh while the other cradled the back of your neck, pulling you down so that your forehead rested against his. “Fucking hell, cariño.”

A breathy giggle escaped you at his reaction. You leaned forward, pressing your bleeding heart against his, bucking slightly forward, feeling the rough imprint of his hard cock.

Hissing, Eddie's face scrunched up as if in pain, brows furrowing while he held a moan back at the friction. Large hands settled on your hips, pressing you down harder. “You're gonna be the death of me.”

“I hope not,” you grinned, guiding his hands to your thighs, prompting him to explore your body further and he did so with great enthusiasm. He caught your lips again, greedily licking into your mouth as he massaged the flesh in his calloused hands. Moaning into his mouth you ground down on him, harder this time, loving the way your best friend's cock felt between your legs. You whimpered, “f-fuck, Eddie.”

“Keep moanin’ my name, mi amor,” he encouraged breathlessly, cursing when he finally let his fingers feel the damp lace material covering your sex. “Oh—you're fucking soaked, baby. All this for me?”

“Yes, yes, Eds—” you cried, finding purchase on his shoulders as you writhed desperately in his embrace. “Please! It-it's all for you, only for you.”

He slipped his thumb under the fabric and collected your juice before bringing it to your mouth. Eddie licked the sticky mix from your lips and groaned against you.

Whimpering, you reached between your bodies, frantically trying to undo his belt. His head fell back with a groan, his cock itching for freedom. He cursed, endearingly watching your facial expression as you finally managed to pull him free, memorizing just how beautifully your face twitched as you mumbled, “you're so big.”

“You can take it,” he encouraged.

You traced your thumb over the leaking slit, glossing it around the angry head, the soft touch making him whimper as he nibbled on your neck. It felt absolutely maddening, having a man such as Eddie Diaz under you, hips involuntarily bucking upward in an attempt to chase whatever relief your hand could offer. You enjoyed having that kind of power over him. Chuckling, you pulled his head back from where it was nuzzled in the crook of your neck and ghosted your lips over the shell of his ear. “Easy, cowboy.”

Moving your panties to the side, you dragged your fingers through your wet folds before taking him in your hand. You peppered kisses along his jawline, stroking him slowly but firmly. The noise from the TV seemed to die out as you pumped his thick shaft with your slick, grinding against him, enjoying the ragged breaths he emitted.

You positioned him at your wet entrance, dragging the angry head through your folds, shuddering.

Eddie's rough hand grabbed you by the jaw, flexed fingers digging into your skin, pulling you close to his face. “No more teasing, princess,” he ordered hoarsely.

His command made you want to challenge him, but you couldn't hold back any longer. With a shaky breath, you positioned yourself and slowly slid down his length. There was a sharp pain but you expected as much. Still, you winced at the piercing sensation and found comfort in swallowing his ragged moan, distracting yourself from the sting as you took him to the hilt.

“Fuck,” Eddie croaked, his hands wrapping around your thighs, pushing deeper, forcing himself further into your sex than you thought possible. He helped turn the pain into pleasure by kissing you softly, tongue tasting yours as he rocked you back and forth in his lap. You gasped into his mouth, face twisting as your walls adjusted to him. “You feel so good around me, amor.”

You steadied yourself against his taut chest as you found your own rhythm. Enticed by your chest moving right in front of him, he freed a breast, leaving open-mouthed kisses as he massaged the skin with one hand, palming your ass with the other.

Initially, you had had no doubt being full of Eddie would feel good, but you hadn't been prepared to feel this much. His touch gave you warmth and kisses comfort, but the way he held you provided you with a sense of safety you never wanted to be rid of.

You settled into a comfortable rhythm, feeling confident riding his heavy cock with the sweet sounds he emitted. You took his hand from your ass and moved it to your belly, pressing into your flesh and moaning obscenely at the applied pressure. “Ho-holy shit, Eddie! You feel that? Hnng—you… so deep.”

Eddie let go of your nipple, but not before teasing the perked nub with his teeth, drawing a pitched whine from you. You watched you intensely through hazy eyes and furrowed brows, feeling his cock twitch as his hand pressed harder into your belly. “Oh—yer taking me so well, doll. Doin’ so good for me. Ridin’ me like you were meant to.”

If your face wasn't flustered before, it surely was now. Your best friend's praise went straight to your cunt, clenching Eddie deliciously as if trying to milk him.

Eddie pulled you down and kissed you messily, hungry for whatever you might give him, as long as it was you. His hand moved from his bulge prodding you from inside and settled between your legs, rubbing tight circles on your throbbing clit.

“Ff-fuck! Eds—” you gasped. The sudden determined attention to your neglected nub made you thwart forward, movements faltering as your high got higher. 

His hips rutted in response, fucking into you when your legs shook around him. “That's it, baby. Just let go—let it all go.”

Wanton sounds of sweaty skin slapping, panting, moaning, loving—you lost yourself in Eddie's warmth, falling apart in his lap as he fucked you through your orgasm.

Eddie's thrusts grew more urgent, continuing his ministrations to your swollen clit while chasing his own release.

You cried out, feeling your body spasm, convulsing around him as he didn't let up. Your polished nails dug into his shoulders, clawing marks forming under the hazy gaze of your glossy eyes. “E—hnng! Eddie,” you choked, teeth biting his skin. “I… I can't—”

Eddie ceased his torture only to hold your hips firmly as he practically fucked up into your slippery cunt like a ragdoll. Gasping, you felt the increased pace bringing on another orgasm as you held onto him for dear life, breathing each other's air. “Jus’ a little more, baby—” he grunted, jaw fixed in place as he watched you fall apart on him. “You're doing so good for me, amor. So, so good.”

“Plea-please, Eds,” you cried pathetically with just enough energy left to hold yourself slightly above him so that he could continue his assault on you. “Co-come in me, Eddie.”

Your desperate pleas set something off in him, his vivid imagination making him snap his hips roughly. Drawn into a scenario where you stood round and swollen with his seed—it made him burst.

Spurts of creamy ropes of cum painted your velvet walls as he tried to grind deeper into you, arms folding around the small of your waist, holding you down on him, his face hidden in your chest.

You noticed how the distant audio from the TV seemed to seep back to you, blending over your ragged pants and heavy breathing. Looking down between you, you saw a wet stain on your silky dress and you had no doubt Eddie's pants would be off way worse.

Eddie slowly lifted his head from your chest, those brown doe-eyes no longer filled with the same raw hunger but a weary mix of satisfaction and affection. Another surge of heat flushed your cheeks, and you pressed your lips against his, as gently as the first time around. He sighed softly at the contact, something so tender about the way your lips asked for permission while your tits were pressed against him and his cock still inside you.

After a moment you shifted and reluctantly got off him, not getting far when he didn't let go of your hand. “You-you're leaving?”

You chuckled, squeezing his hand back. “Was actually just going to clean myself up,” you said and he nodded, but didn't let go. He snickered and got down on your knees, taking his half-hard cock in your hand, tilting it upward and licked him clean. Eddie shuddered, undoubtedly sensitive to the touch of your tongue lapping at your juices. You moaned around him, loving the taste; loving the feeling of his cum leaking down your thighs.

Eddie groaned your name and you let his head go with a pop. “You'll stay the night, won't you?”

You hadn't exactly thought about leaving, but the request still made your heart flutter. “I will do anything you want me to, Eds.”

[27moremoons]

I'm in the beginning stages of reading theory on Communism but I can't help but feel like I'm starting wrong. I'm currently reading Mao's Little Red Book through a translated PDF a friend found for me. Is that okay to start with or should I start with something else?

First, I don't believe that there is a wrong way to start reading Communist theory/history, if you ask a thousand communists what their reading/learning journey has been they will all tell you something different. They may also tell you what they would have changed in their reading journey, for example what they wish they started with, but even then you will have different answers. I would start with what interests you, in order to keep you energized and interested in what you're reading. In terms of Mao I find his writing very engaging. I would also start with *foundational texts.

Good lists to check out by apas-95 and txttletale (2) and I like my dearest beloved friend mesetacadre's reading list My personal journey started with interest in decolonial theory and African revolution:

How Europe Underdeveloped Africa - Walter Rodney Decolonial Marxism: Essays from the Pan-African Revolution - Walter Rodney The Wretched of the Earth - Frantz Fanon A Dying Colonialism - Frantz Fanon

*Foundational text recommendations:

(⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ 27moremoons personal recommendations other than Rodney and Fanon which are foundational texts to me) You will find these in the above lists as well Start with the short texts i.e. don't start with Capital

The Principles of Communism - Frederick Engels Socialism: Utopian and Scientific - Frederick Engels The Communist Manifesto - Karl Marx Das Kapital - Karl Marx The Three Sources and Three Component Parts of Marxism - Vladimir Lenin What Is to Be Done? - Vladimir Lenin State and Revolution - Vladimir Lenin Imperialism, the Highest Stage of Capitalism - Vladimir Lenin Dialectical and Historical Materialism - Joseph Stalin Anarchism or Socialism? - Joseph Stalin Quotations from Mao Tse Tung - Mao Tse Tung

Next for my personal journey, I want to immerse myself in Arab Marxism. Read Kwame Nkrumah. Then I wish to be more versed in Soviet history.

One thing I recommend is that if you start something, finish it, even if you don't understand everything. Picking up theory for the first time feels daunting, especially since a lot of these text reference history and philosophers and language you might not be versed in, but it is my belief that it's better to start somewhere than not start at all. You will become more versed in the language these authors use as you read, and you can (YOU SHOULD) review texts in the years to come.

Take only from what I said and recommend as helpful, and leave the rest.

Take care and good luck comrade, I love you forever

/)/) ( . .) ( づ♡☭✮

(P.S. if you are interested in your own Marxist history as a Palestinian, here are the historical documents and books of the PFLP 🚩🇵🇸)

My next read: Arab Marxism & National Liberation

Some accessible audiobooks found here Free resource here Free resource here Some additional useful texts found here

[tj-dragonblade]

For the Make me write game… I just noticed that it seems to be acceptable to send more than one icon. I shall tentatively do this as well (since I’d really like to read snippets of all of these), and if this is too much, absolutely feel free to take your pick!

🔎🛋️🍷

Oh yes, multiples are always welcome, and thank you! Even if I'm moving slowly on answering. Search agency picks up directly after the last snippet in the tag; the bit from the next Turbo Lover fic and the future one don't have anything posted yet that precedes them.

🔎

"And what, I'm just supposed to take your word it's stolen? What proof you got it's even yours?"

The guy behind the counter is presenting as fully human, unlike the naiad at the last place, but there's something about his eyes that points Hob toward 'dragon'. He's leaning forward aggressively over the display with the fuckoff-big ruby pendant in it, hands splayed on the glass top, glaring. A dragon running a pawn shop around its hoard is a remarkable sort of poetry and Hob would be delighted if the guy wasn't being such a knob.

Dream, to Hob's delight, is utterly unruffled in the face of this hostility. He sighs in a way that conveys boredom and long-suffering indulgence, as if this entire exchange is beneath him but needs must. He raises one hand slightly, makes a small gesture toward the display case and the ruby within begins to glow, levitating off the velvet stand it sits on.

"Hey!" The proprietor jerks back, startled, and Dream lowers his hand; the ruby drops again and stops glowing. He returns his gaze to the stunned dragon behind the counter and raises one eyebrow, silently waiting to see if the guy's gonna offer rebuttal.

"Alright alright, you got a claim to it. I bought it off that lady fair and square though, I had no idea it was stolen! And I'm out a good chunk of cash if I just give it to you!"

🛋️

Dream is stretched and slick, but obviously he's had the toy in all night and while the friction that develops as the lube thins out is good for a moment, it quickly becomes too much, uncomfortable. "Need more lube, darling," Hob pants, pulling out reluctantly.

Dream fumbles into the inner breast pocket of his suit jacket and hands a slim tube over his shoulder without a word, breathing hard. Hob can't help the delighted chuckle that escapes him; of course Dream is prepared, of course it's the good stuff. He slathers it onto his dick, strokes the excess into the rim of Dream's hole and sinks back into him with a groan of relief, squeezing Dream's hips as he sets into a steady measured rhythm. Part of him wants to pound hard and fast and get them both there as soon as possible after the work up Dream had given him in the limo. Part of him wants to calm down just a hair and draw this out, carry the frenzied need as long as he can, and it's that part that wins out.

"Can't believe you're real, sometimes," he pants, splitting his focus with words meant to also wind Dream tighter. "I mean. Course you're real, you're here, I can feel you"—he thrusts in, grinds deep, and Dream gasps a breathless cry—"but I just. You picked me, you let me have you; feels too good to be true and god, I'm so lucky—"

🍷

"My mother is hosting her annual winter gala next month," Dream says over breakfast one morning, nonchalantly but with a gleam in his eye that gives Hob pause. "Would you like to come, as my plus-one?"

Hob lowers his teacup back to its saucer, studying Dream's face. "I know that look," he says, letting a grin settle on his mouth. "There is something devious going on in your mind, love. Let's have it."

Dream schools his expression to something approaching innocence. "First, and foremost, I am inviting you because I enjoy your company and would like you to accompany me. I would like to be seen with you, to show you off."

"There's more though, isn't there."

"Yes. And before I detail it for you, I wish to be clear that you are welcome to turn down the invitation; I understand that my ulterior motives are somewhat…distasteful."

"Oh?" Hob arches an eyebrow.

"Insulting, even."

Hob crosses his arms, that eyebrow still up, interest plainly written on his face.

Make me write!

[backlogbooks]

Backlogbooks Bingo Challenge - Horror Recommendations (part 1)

To the surprise of no one, I'm starting off my challenge recommendations with horror! I'm getting the publication dates off of storygraph, so if I'm wrong, I take no responsibility <3

60s

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson -- Shirley Jackson! The queen! This one is such a combination of horror and humor and then horror again, about two sisters who live alone, ostracized by their town because of their family's dark past.

70s

Harvest Home by Thomas Tryon -- A very creepy folk horror novel about a family who leaves The City to come to a Small Town in new england, getting Close to Nature. Naturally, the townspeople have some dark secrets. I loved the atmosphere in this one--the slow building of dread, and trying to piece together exactly what the Dark Secret at the center of the harvest home festival is.

Jaws by Peter Benchley -- Okay, I don't know if I can actually recommend this, because to be honest with you, the movie is so much better. But also, if you're a shark movie fiend, this is a Piece Of History. Feel free to reply and argue with me if you love this book!

Carrie by Stephen King -- This book is about Carrie, a perpetually bullied girl who has the chance to go to the prom. I'm sure you know how it goes from there--but even if you do, I recommend reading the book. It's a heartbreaking horror novel, and I really enjoyed (slash hated) the way the tension mounts as you get closer and closer to The Bad Thing

The Shining by Stephen King -- Jack Torrance has a big new job as the caretaker at the Overlook Hotel during the off-season, and there's some evil afoot! Again, I feel like you know how it goes from there, but King is really so good at building dread and tension.

80s

A Nest of Nightmares by Lisa Tuttle -- Recently rereleased in the Paperbacks from Hell line, this is a collection of horror short stories that mostly center on women, with horrors both mundane and paranormal (but an emphasis on the paranormal). These stories were so creepy to me, and I really enjoyed the way that mood built. TW for rape (I can tell you which story for sure if you want! I'll just need to double check my copy to make sure I'm not misremembering)

Misery by Stephen King - He's back again! This is actually my favorite Stephen King novel (setting aside the dark tower series to make it a fair fight). Paul Sheldon, a bestselling novelist, is taken captive by his biggest fan, Annie Wilkes. Annie is like, my favorite villain I think. I've been wanting to reread this book for years because of her <3

2000

House of Leaves by Mark Z Danielewski -- Okay recommending this book does feel a little like trying to trap someone, but I love it. So! Will Navidson's house is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside; Johnny Truant is obsessed with a book by a blind man about a film that Navidson made that doesn't exist; everyone is lost in the labyrinth, including you. Please join me in this bonkers book. Conspiracy board supplies are not included, but you're encouraged to gather them up yourself as you go.

Uzumaki by Junji Ito -- Kurouzu-cho, a small fogbound town on the coast of Japan, is haunted by spirals. This is not as metaphorical as I imagined it would be when I first picked it up! The body horror in this book is insanely good, and there are some lines/images that are going to live in my head Forever. Highly recommend if you like horror manga.

2003

Come Closer by Sara Gran -- This is a fantastic possession book--it keeps you right in her point of view as she spirals down, trying to figure out if she is in fact possessed or if there's some other break with reality. I loved the "are you possessed" quiz as a guiding structure.

2006

The Ruins by Scott Smith -- Trapped in the jungle, far from home and with no way to get help, a group of friends face an inhuman horror. This had some of the most skin crawling body horror I've seen, and I loved the development of the antagonist (don't wanna say more because spoilers!). Great survival horror. What a terrible group of people to be trapped with.

World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War by Max Brooks -- If you love yourself some worldbuilding and zombies, check out this book! World War Z gives you vignettes about different areas of the world, and different aspects of life during a zombie apocalypse. It was a slow read for me, but I really enjoyed the details.

2007

Heart-Shaped Box by Joe Hill -- An old rock star buys a ghost online, because he's a dumbass (aka because he "has a thing for the macabre"), and has to go through hell to get rid of it. It's been years, but I remember being deeply creeped out by this book!

2010

Feed by Mira Grant -- More zombies! This one set twenty years after the zombie apocalypse, following two bloggers who are working to uncover a conspiracy behind the Infected. This had political thriller vibes mixed in with the horror, which kept a fast pace, and I loved the main characters. Eventually I may even finish the series!

2011

The Ritual by Adam Nevill -- Four old friends try to push aside old and new tensions for a reunion hiking trip. Since that's not working, they try to take a shortcut and end up very, very lost--and very deep in woods that have more than just animals to worry about. I held my breath through a lot of the first half of this book. Good for folk horror fans or people who want to be very afraid of every forest they walk into.

2013

Dark Tales by Shirley Jackson -- Shirley Jackson again! This one is a collection of short stories, including "The Summer People" and "Louisa, Please Come Home," which are some of my favorites. Creeping dread, domestic horror, and the question of what happens when your life takes a sudden, unexplainable turn. Definitely recommend the edition with an introduction by Ottessa Moshfegh!

2014

Through the Woods by E.M. Carroll -- A collection of short horror comics, with dark fairy tale vibes. I want to eat E.M. Carroll's art style, or at least cover my house with prints from this book.

Horrorstor by Grady Hendrix -- Have you ever had a nightmare about being trapped in an ikea? Or, sorry, Definitely Not Ikea (So We Don't Get Sued)? Are you tired of your retail job? This is the book for you! Haunted ikea: much more terrifying than I expected it to be.

The Grownup by Gillian Flynn -- This is a quick, 64 page story about a young woman who pretends to be a psychic to get by, and ends up being pulled deeper and deeper into a family's dysfunction when she promises to help rid their home of ghosts or other powerful forces.

Annihilation by Jeff VanderMeer -- Horror science fiction about Area X, an unexplained phenomenon where earth is returning to "pristine nature" with a horrific twist (or many of them). Our main character, the biologist, is one of my favorite characters I've ever read. I'm actually a little insane about her. Join me!

This is really long so I'm splitting it in two! Stay tuned for 2015-2019 recommendations next week :-)

And please recommend your favorite horror books for this challenge too!

[impcrios]

she can't help but roll her eyes at his first sentence, it sounded condescending in the tone that he said it, but she let it go. they knew when to pick their battles and she wasn't about to go sprouting off on the apprenticeship that she had under her belt or the fact that she had been in her line of work for over six years now. they weren't an idiot when it came to lucius malfoy, they had been in the same house, same year, knew that his father died and ended up being the head of his house, too young for anyone, and at the moment it had happened she had felt bad for him. it would be a loss to lose a parent, a loss to have an empty mansion with ghosts not seen, and a younger sister and mother to care for. she sees it then, the first sign of emotion, the irritation, her mask is composed again, the shift in tone changing once more. her mother had tried to beat her into submission when it came to proper etiquette and decorum, chastising them that they said whatever came to their mind. she takes a deep breath, listening to him, trying to understand, but there's a very deep part of her that just feels doomed. maybe even a bit sad. 'you don't think i couldn't have any girl i wanted,' she raises an eyebrow at that, her arms crossed, clutching her wand, and when he keeps talking and painting the picture of the kind of wife that she should be, she gulps, her jaw slackening at the thought. then lucius goes for the jugular, as any slytherin would. she can't help but the corner of her lip almost turning upward. maybe he had been right, maybe she did want to be different so badly, but there was one thing that she clung onto. "i'm not unhappy, malfoy." at least, in terms of her career life. in fact, she felt like she was finally free. they had a job that they loved, a place to call home in england and in romania. they had dragons that they cared for since they were born, that only knew narcissa as their loyal caretaker. the only thing that truly made her unhappy was the fact that andromeda was gone. 'what  is  it  i'm  working  for,  or  that  you'll  allow  me  to  work  for', before she can even answer she hears it. toujours  pur. she could react in anger, in fact, she wanted to punch him in the face. but they wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "are they?" she asks, are they truly happy? they could name many girls in their year who would speak only ever in the dark about how it felt like being someone's property to be betrothed to someone but no one ever said the quiet part out loud. "are you? aside from gaining the black name and my family? are you happy?" whatever his answer would be, it would always come back to family duty and honour. maybe that's what it would always be between the two of them. it made her sad for the both of them.

lucius  malfoy  knows  many  things.  he  excels  in  potion  making,  charms,  conducting  business,  having  a  poker  face,  operating  malfoy  manor,  attending  meetings,  hiding  his  allegiances.  there  aren't  many  things  he  doesn't  know  —  but  now  he  has  two:  dragons and how  to  handle  narcissa  black.  ❝  this  tells  me  you've  done  the  research.  ❞  not  that  it  took  a  genius  to  see  how  the  dragons  are  chained  and  harmed  while  making  a  visit  to  gringotts,  he  still  wasn't  sure  how  he'd  manage  narcissa's  request,  but  he  knows  people  —  it's  the  one  thing  he  knows  how  to  do.  ��  i'm  not  asking  for  effort  from  you,  ❞  the  words  come  out  sharp,  irritation  veiling  his  tone.  lucius'  doing  the  best  he  hows  how  and  yet  narcissa  twists  his  words,  sizing  her  up  as  well.  ❝  you  don't  think  i  couldn't  have  any  girl  i  wanted  ?  ❞  it  wasn't  meant  to  be  cocky,  but  more  matter-of-fact.  lucius  malfoy  was  an  eligible  man  and  already  head  of  his  household  —  the  families  of  many  single,  pureblooded  woman  had  already  sent  in  requests  for  lucius  to  take  their  daughters  hand  in  marriage.  lucius  didn't  accept  any  of  them.  ❝  i'm  being  serious,  ❞  his  voice  lowers  as  he  watches  narcissa  closely.  ❝  you  think  i  would  accept  a  proposal  with  you  if  i  wanted  a  socialite  to  fill  my  house  with  unwanted  people  for  parties  and  change  the  decorations  every  month  ?  ❞  he  takes  a  pause,  a  moment  to  really  look  at  them.  ❝  i  think  you  want  to  be  so  different  so  badly  that  you  cause  yourself  to  be  as  unhappy  as  you  are.  what  is  it  i'm  working  for,  or  that  you'll  allow  me  to  work  for  ?  you  and  i  always  knew  this  was  our  path  —  family.  duty.  honor.  toujours  pur.  ❞  the  french  house  of  black  motto  rolls  off  of  his  tongue.  ❝  did  you  think  this  would  be  different  for  you  ?  even  if  you  think  those  other  pureblooded  girls  are  easy  or  lesser,  at  least  they're  happy.  ❞

[tourettesdog]

DPxDC Prompt where when Jason is resurrected, he does not become fully conscious. He lays in his coffin, at rest while his body slowly absorbs the ambient ectoplasm of Gotham and tries to fix the improper formation of his core.

The rest is not altogether peaceful. He often has nightmares, and has no way of escaping them. The ambient ectoplasm in Gotham is sustaining Jason, but what repairs the ectoplasm is managing are agonizingly slow.

-

Danny has been living in Gotham for awhile, having moved there with Jazz as soon as she turned 18. Gotham has its own host of ghosts, but Danny feels at ease without the constant strain of ghost fights.

That is, until he feels something amiss in the Gotham cemetery.

The cemetery feels wrong, in a way Danny can't place. It reminds him of Amity, how restless it is-- only different. Wrong. He keeps visiting the cemetery, trying to find the source of that feeling. The entire graveyard is saturated with it, and all Danny can do is sit in the graveyard and talk into the quiet. He lets emotions flood from his core, trying to exude an air of calm that might settle whatever restless spirit haunts the grounds.

It works, at least. The sense of restless agitation eases when Danny flares his core, settling into a quiet comfort.

It becomes stronger, too. Danny can feel it coming from a newer section of the graveyard, and he curiously wonders why he's drawn more and more to a single line of headstones.

Wonders why the one on the end seems to stand out, the name Jason Peter Todd burning itself into his dreams.

Wonders why he feels a kinship with this boy's grave, when he can't even see a ghost attached to it or feel any resonance of a core. Nothing stronger than the blob ghosts that haunt the grounds, at least.

Only ever those strange emotions and that restless energy that quiets with the sooth of his own core.

Yet one day when Danny visits the graveyard and flares his core, he's startled when another one answers his.

-

[I originally posted this prompt in the Batpham server and it ended here, but several of us expanded on it and what I’m posting after this are the additions I added in that discussion, some of it edited.] Jason never actually digs out of his grave. When he finally awakens and tries to dig at the coffin he actually slips through it into the soil above. A hand thrusts its way through the soil and pulls him the rest of the way up

Danny is the only one present when Jason comes out of his grave-- when he pulls him free, a ghostly inversion of Robin who he knows to be a halfa. In his confused state, however, Jason does not linger in the cemetery. He runs off, and even though Danny's half ghost and can get around fast, Jason is now too and knows the city well enough that he manages to slip away. He's terrified, confused beyond reason, and hiding.

Jason hangs about the city, and at times he goes up on his favorite gargoyle to think-- and that's the first time Babs sees him. She thinks it's just a mistake-- her own imagination-- because as soon as she looks again, he's gone.

But it keeps happening. Dick swears he sees Jason near the manor grounds when he goes to visit. Alfred swears he sees him in the rear view mirror of the car one day. Tim swears he sees him while heading home one night. Bruce sees him on patrol, long enough for the two to lock eyes, but before Bruce can even open his mouth he's gone. And Danny isn't helping, because he's Looking for Jason still, trying to help, and this suspicious kid keeps turning up in the weirdest places and at a glance he looks like Jason too.

And it fucks with Bruce's head so badly. He can't say anything about it for days, and when he shakily admits it to Alfred the butler tells him he saw the same thing-- and when the others also share this, all of it lining up too perfectly, that's when Bruce approaches the grave and finds it empty.

During this, Jason naturally grows more bold after his initial shock and confusion dies down. He's a bold and smart kid, even if he's confused and afraid. He's just trying to investigate and see how Gotham (and his family) are doing and figure out how he can approach Bruce. He sees Tim and can’t help but feel forgotten and replaced, but without the rage from the pit he's trying to be a bit more level-headed and think things through.

Jason is also learning more about his new physiology, which keeps him distracted and his mind busy. Trying to figure out himself as much as those around him. But some things still haunt him and cannot be so easily ignored.

An encounter with the Joker sets Jason off.

Jason sees the Joker and that rage and hurt builds inside of him and he manages something similar to a wail. It's the most broken sound Danny's ever heard. It's nothing like his wail, it's more like choking and static and more a feeling in the chest than a sound. Jason died from inhaling smoke and didn't have any dying screams. It’s a shattered, raw wall of reverberating emotion that has no justice.

And Danny goes to it-- stumbling, because it's raw enough to punch at his core-- and he just finds the kid he's been looking for knelt on the ground, keening and sobbing his heart out. Danny goes to comfort him, tentatively wrapping an arm around him while they're surrounded by Wreckage (and a clown-shaped dead body).

And when the bats get there they finally get a good look at the specter they've been seeing all around Gotham, and it's absolutely Jason-- with another boy beside him... And the Joker's body, twisted and bloody. But when Bruce gets close, Jason startles, visibly terrified and hurt, and Danny hides them both from view and whisks Jason away to hide him.

Bruce let the Joker live-- and now Jason has killed the man and that horrified expression he caught on Bruce's face won't leave his head. He feels like a monster, destroyed with grief and hurt, and doesn't know what to do.

Danny takes Jason home, and he’s just a fucking Mess. When they get to the apartment Jazz is just about to leave. She was sleeping but the reverberating “wail” woke her and she’s been in a mad dash to grab all of their weapons to storm out and see what the hell has happened.

But right before she can leave, Danny appears with Jason in tow and all of Jazz's questions die on her tongue when she catches sight of the kid. Danny's told her a lot about Jason since he first met him-- and about the cemetery even before then-- and she's been trying to give advice and help out in whatever was she can from a distance. And now, seeing this kid actually here and just the sheer wreck that he is, she can't help but feel fiercely protective of him. She doesn't even know what happened down in the streets, just that Jason's in distress and needs help.

No questions asked, she helps Danny sit him down on the couch, wrap a blanket around him, and make some hot chocolate to try and get him to relax. She certainly has plenty of questions she Wants to ask, but that's not what's important right now. Right now she just has two severely shaken boys that need a safe place and time to calm down.

And even once she knows what happened, Jazz is nothing but supportive. Hell, she's happy to see the Joker is gone, but she doesn't focus on that because it's also not what's important. Instead she just does what she can to make a comfortable space and lets Jason know she's there to listen if he needs to talk.

And at first Jason is hesitant around Jazz-- and alarmed at first that Danny brought him to someone he doesn't know-- but Jazz is so patient and understanding. Jason can't help but relax around her. In a way it hurts, because it reminds him of his own family, but he'd rather have this than nothing, not knowing what reception he'd get back at the manor.

Danny's terrified Batman will want to hunt them both down. He knows this kid used to be Robin, but Jason's own reactions to Batman aren't making Danny feel more secure. If anything, he has a bone to pick with Batman himself now.

And Bruce is just left to reflect on what's happened, knowing that something of his son is still lingering. And he can't stop thinking of that Feeling the wail Jason made left in his chest. He keeps going back to his empty grave, hoping he might find him there. Hoping he might get to apologize to more than just the flowers.

Danny finds Bruce at the grave-- as Bruce, not Batman-- and he puts it together. He thinks he already knew it too, since while he refused to look up Jason Todd's name, it's Too Familiar.

Danny confronting Bruce angrily, expecting the man to rise to his challenge, but all he's met with is just a grieving father who desperately wants to see his son again.

And Bruce recognizes this kid and knows Danny knows where Jason is, but instead of demanding to know where he is he just asks if his son is okay. Because after feeling that wail and seeing what he saw that day, Bruce knows Jason must resent him. He doesn't even know what Jason is anymore, but he knows he's still the kid he loved and he's hurt and Bruce doesn't think he can fix that. He just wants to know if he's okay, and for Danny to tell him that he's sorry. That if Jason ever want to come home, the door will always be open.

Jason is terrified too cause he truly wanted to kill the Joker, but he didn't expect to If he was going to kill him, it would be in a way he could feel with his hands. But the way he did it was in an uncontrollable show of power that he's not sure he could have stopped.

And Danny keeps trying to reassure him that he not only will get a better hold on his powers, but that he's not a monster. That what happened wouldn't repeat itself because the only reason it happened in the first place was because that was the man who Killed Jason and ghosts are emotional beings. It’s still a struggle.

Unfortunately, the Fentons make their way to Gotham. News of what is clearly a ghost killing a person-- villain or not-- is big enough to reach them in Amity. Jazz and Danny were only in Gotham because the parents couldn’t stomach their son being Phantom-- assumed Phantom was overshadowing Danny and turned a moment of trust into one of betrayal. The siblings were trying to lay low, but... well it was Phantom that was seen with the other ghost.

The Fenton parents come to the town with an entire Arsenal and approach the Batman, going on and on about ghosts, how dangerous they are, and in particular how dangerous These ghosts are. They lament about the Death of their own son, and the entire time Bruce is just-- shocked. He wasn't even sure what Jason was, and while the word ghost does seem to fit it still feels like his heart breaking all over again.

And he can't forget how broken Jason seemed, and how protective this Phantom was of his son. He doesn't believe the Fentons, but he does Fear them. He fears what they might do, and that's when he learns about the GIW and that these people are acting Lawfully in telling him, to his face, that they want to hunt down his son.

[itwoodbeprefect]

happy 1 year anniversary to the election results that were so fucked they had me trying to take my mind off of things by watching what seemed like a toxic chinese queerbait show only to find something far more thoughtful and genuinely queer and interesting than expected and end up watching a bunch more unrelated things that are talked about in vaguely the same realms of the internet and then watch bad buddy twice in a row and fall into an endless bingewatch of thai media (some of which is mediocre, some of which is bad, much of which is simply pretty good, and some of which is genuinely incredible) and go, well, it would be a waste of all this language input i'm accidentally giving myself right now if i didn't at least learn a few words. thus accidentally locking myself into watching even more thai media because now i gain serotonin from hearing a sentence i know i could write

[skullchicken]

Things I wish I had read in "beginner" sewing tutorials/people had told me before I started getting into sewing

You have to hem *everything* eventually. Hemming isn't optional. (If you don't hem your cloth, it will start to fray. There are exceptions to this, like felt, but most cloth will.)

The type of cloth you choose for your project matters very much. Your clothing won't "fall right" if it's not the kind of stretchy/heavy/stiff as the one the tutorial assumes you will use.

Some types of cloth are very chill about fraying, some are very much not. Linen doesn't really give a fuck as long as you don't, like, throw it into the washing machine unhemmed (see below), whereas brocade yearns for entropy so, so much.

On that note: if you get new cloth: 1. hem its borders (or use a ripple stitch) 2. throw it in the washing machine on the setting that you plan to wash it going forward 3. iron it. You'll regret it, if you don't do it. If you don't hem, it'll thread. If you don't wash beforehand, the finished piece might warp in the first wash. If you don't iron it, it won't be nice and flat and all of your measuring and sewing will be off.

Sewing's first virtue is diligence, followed closely by patience. Measure three times before cutting. Check the symmetry every once in a while. If you can't concentrate anymore, stop. Yes, even if you're almost done.

The order in which you sew your garment's parts matters very much. Stick to the plan, but think ahead.

You'll probably be fine if you sew something on wrong - you can undo it with a seam ripper (get a seam ripper, they're cheap!)

You can use chalk to draw and write on the cloth.

Pick something made out of rectangles for your first project.

I recommend making something out of linen as a beginner project. It's nearly indestructible, barely threads and folds very neatly.

Collars are going to suck.

The sewing machine can't hurt you (probably). There is a guard for a reason and while the needle is very scary at first, if you do it right, your hands will be away from it at least 5 cm at any given time. Also the spoils of learning machine sewing are not to be underestimated. You will be SO fast.

I believe that's all - feel free to add unto it.

[godhasforsnakenme]

BOOK REVIEW 📖

This is the one for February – I was reminded of this book half way through the month and decided to reread it again because I couldn't remember how it ended; plus a short mystery is always nice to read (side note: this ended up as an ebook read bc I couldn't remember where in my storage boxes I have my copy – it's in storage because it's a paperback edition and old and I don't want it to die on me yet lol)

[hellokittyish]

part one here.

★ thinking about mutual masturbation on facetime with ex!satoru which starts off with you just staring at him in some sort of daze, wondering what on earth possessed you to pick up the call in the first place. this is a mistake, you know that... so why aren't you hanging up already?

but before you can dwell too long on the answer to that question, your train of thought is rudely interrupted by a particularly loud moan echoing through the speaker.

“mmh… you actually didn’t decline for once," the white-haired menace gasps out, the slick sounds of his hand gliding up and down his cock only picking up in volume as he lays eyes on you. “shit— you don't know how much i've missed seein’ that pretty face of yours, baby.”

“you’re so shameless, satoru.” you mutter, lacing your tone with as much disdain as you can muster; but the way your own hand somehow snakes its way beneath the waistband of your sweatpants and into your panties tells an entirely different tale of how this whole situation is really making you feel.

“yeah,” he muses in an unapologetic hum, making a show of tilting the camera down to give you a better view of where he's currently thumbing his leaky, blushing tip. “but… ah— so are you, otherwise you would’ve blocked my new number the second i sent you that dick pic.”

“w-well how do you know i wasn't about to press the block button right when you called me and i accidentally clicked accept instead?” you shoot back through teeth which are clenched partly in annoyance and partly in an effort to hold back letting your own pleasure show on your face.

“nah, don’t give me that bullshit,” satoru snorts amusedly, leaning in closer to the screen and tilting his head to the side, snowy lashes fluttering seductively as his bright eyes stare knowingly into yours. “if you’re not enjoying this, then i want you to show me that your hands aren’t in your pants right now rubbing that pretty little pussy.”

shit. of course he'd be able to see through you that easily — he is your ex, after all. but no... you can’t let him win just yet. so, as subtly as possible, you pull your hand from your panties and hold it up to the phone screen, hoping against hope that the darkness of your room hides the wetness of your palm.

“hah. nice try, baby,” he drawls smugly, smiling so wide now that both of his annoyingly cute dimples are on full display; and it’s deliberate, too. he knows full well they were always your weakness. “...but i can see your sweet juices coating those cute fingers from here.”

and he knows he has you right where he wants you when you still don't hang up the call like you both know you should, instead just shoving your hand right back into your panties and rubbing messy circles over your clit while keeping direct eye-contact with him — trying to beat him at his own game, are you? oh, how he's missed you.

so he picks up the pace of his jostling fist around his cock, candy-pink lower lip caught between his pearly teeth as he tries to catch even a small glimpse of your bare skin through the screen; and god, only you could make him act this pathetic, this desperate. "fuck... please, pretty, y'gotta give me something to work with here. h-how about you pull your top up just a little for toru, hm?"

and you've already let this escalate too far to back out now, so you decide to throw caution to the wind and tug at the edge of your oversized tee just enough so that your bare tits spring free, courtesy to your preference for not wearing a bra around your apartment.

"o-oh, just look at those. i missed my girls s'much. bet you wish they were in my mouth right now, huh?" satoru rasps out, balls tightening to an almost painful degree as he reaches down to pay the heavy, neglected sacs some attention by gently fondling them.

and you, having finally caved and slid a finger into your fluttering hole, can only respond with a soft whine as you reach up to knead a breast with your free hand, the image of his skilled mouth suckling on them like he always used to making your much-too-empty cunt clench around your digit with need.

and that singular sweet, sweet sound from your lips that he's been deprived of hearing for months is all it takes for him to finally bust a load all over his chest and hand, goopy white streaks tainting his previously unmarred pale skin as his entire body trembles with a pleasure only you can give him.

and when he eventually manages to compose himself enough to glance back down at the facetime and realize that you're still trying to reach your own climax, your meek little fingers clearly not enough to finish the job, satoru has the absolute audacity to lean right in close to the screen and mutter out a cheeky…

“hey, if y'want me to come over and help you with that then all you gotta do is agree to get back together with me, baby.”

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[sourcherryandsprinkles]

We NEED more soft!Rafe after the new season. He moved out and got a whole house to himself maybe he could ask his girl to move in? Becasue he wants her there and to be part of his life...his new life where he's a better person

Request: SOFT RAFE PLSSS

I don't know when I found time to write this, but enjoy soft!Rafe asking his girlfriend to move in with him! Feel free to send more requests, I'll write when I find time

Warnings: soft!Rafe, relationship moving quickly, mention of Ward's death

—

‘’Rafe, I truly can’t see. I’m not cheating,'’ you promised as you walked with Rafe’s hands over your eyes.  

He had picked you up in late afternoon and refused to tell you where you were going. Just that he wanted to show you something...and that you had to close your eyes during the whole drive. 

Rafe laughed a bit, trusting you. ''Okay, okay.'' 

You walked a few more steps, then he stopped and removed his hands from your eyes, revealing a large two story house. 

A frown formed between your eyebrows. ‘’Who's house is this?''

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. ‘’Mine,'' he whispered in your ear, giving you a gentle kiss on your jawline. ‘’As of this morning.'' 

Surprise filled your face. ‘’You bought a house?’’ 

Every time Rafe showed up to your place after a fight with his family — most often his father —, needing a bed to crash in for a few days, you tried talking to him about getting his own place. It would solve a lot of conflicts. But Rafe always said he wasn’t ready to leave the family nest. 

Behind you, Rafe hummed. ‘’I bought it with a part of my dad’s inheritance money. Sharing a house with Rose is not possible anymore. Too much has happened...’’ 

You covered his hands with yours in silent support. You’d heard the ugly stories about Rose and Rafe. He hadn’t always made the best decisions in the past, but Rose constantly blamed him for everything bad that happened to the family. Rafe may have deep personal issues, but it was wrong of her to villainize him.

‘’Do you want a tour?’’ he asked, his voice brimming with excitement, and the eagerness in his eyes made it impossible for you to refuse.

You followed Rafe up the steps to the porch of his new home. He fumbled briefly with the key before pushing the door open, but just as you were about to enter, he pulled you to a sudden stop.

“Wait,” he ordered, his strong arms wrapping around you as he effortlessly lifted you up.

You squeaked, startled by the sudden move. ‘’Rafe, we're not married, you know,’’ you said with a soft laugh, looping an arm behind his neck. ‘’You don't have to carry me over the threshold."

He set you down gently on the wooden floor of the entrance hall and shut the door behind him. 

Inside, the house felt big and empty, its openness accentuated by the sunlight streaming through the uncovered windows.

‘’I don’t know why, but I expected it to be fully furnished,’’ you admitted, glancing towards what you assumed was the living room. 

Rafe chuckled, his fingers lacing with yours as he guided you further in. ‘’Some people do buy them furnished, but this one wasn’t. You’ll have to help me pick out furniture because I suck at decorating.’’ 

The kitchen was massive and even had two ovens — a rich people thing. It was unfortunate Rafe didn’t cook. The backyard had a large patio where Rafe mentioned wanting to set a barbecue and a firepit, and maybe one of those large daybeds. He wanted his house to be cozy and feel like a home, not look straight out of a fucking magazine.

As he led you into the last room upstairs, the master bedroom, Rafe's voice grew soft. The words were burning on his tongue, but he didn’t know how to say them. 

‘’And here's our bedroom. I mean, the bedroom.’’ He made a mistake on purpose, just to see your reaction. 

You tried to hide the smile that spread across your lips, your heart beating fast in your chest. The slip of his tongue hadn't gone by unnoticed. Did he truly mean for you to live here with him? Was this why he took you to the house and insisted on making it a surprise? 

‘’There’s a big bathtub in the master bedroom, and—’’ Rafe continued, moving toward the bathroom to show you the bathtub, but you were not listening. 

Moving in with someone is a huge step in a relationship, not something you can decide on a whim. You and Rafe had only been together for a few months, so it felt a bit early to take that step. But then again, everything in your relationship had moved quickly from the start. He met your parents two weeks after your first kiss, and said ‘I love you’ after twenty-six days of dating — yes, you had counted them. 

When Rafe glanced back at you, he noticed you seemed deep in thought. ‘’Is everything okay?’’ he asked, an eyebrow raised in concern. 

You snapped out of your thoughts, shaking your head. ‘’Yeah, everything’s good,’’ you replied, smiling at him. ‘’I was just thinking of all the time it’ll take us to christen our house.’’ A mischievous grin curled on your lips as you walked toward him. ‘’Maybe we should start now. It’s a big house.’’ 

Rafe’s eyes flickered with surprise as he heard what you were implying. He expected you to refuse, to say it was too soon. 

‘’You’ll move in with me?’’ he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. 

You nodded, and a smile curled on Rafe's face. He's never been happier.

—

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[nicholasgoodgirl]

on set - nicholas chavez

summary: you came to bring nicholas food on set and he looks too good you gotta help him get off or maybe you're just doing it for yourself.

warning: oral (m receiving), almost caught ig.

a/n: i need this man bad 😩

--

i park my car and get the takeout my boyfriend asked me to get for him while he was on set.

i knocked on his trailer a few times then being met with him, Nicholas i can't lie he looked undeniably good.

a part of me feels bad because he's getting put into character for this role and i liked it. every bit of it.

the way his hair is styled, paired with the old money clothing. he was perfect. "you good?" not sure how long he was trying to get my attention but i just nod and walk into the trailer.

"you gonna be free tonight" i ask. Nicholas sits back down in the chair. "uh i don't think so" he checked the message he was given earlier this morning before coming to work

"yeah, no i won't be free why?" he asks giving me the perfect opportunity to perhaps get a quickie in before he has to actually get on screen again.

i walk up behind him, giving his shoulders a little massage then kissing his neck "I'd really liked if we could do something later" i try hinting to him that i wanted to fuck and im sure he caught on rather slowly than expected but he still did nonetheless.

"at work? what a needy girl" he coaxed. he took my hand in his and brung me infront of him.

nicholas manspreads his legs a bit so i can stand in between them "how bout you get that pretty little mouth to work then"

his cocky tone and the light pat on the side of my thigh; a signal for me to get on my knees sent my need for him through the roof.

i sunk to my knees not breaking eye contact. "this is what you wanted right?" he asked me with a smirk.

i give him a nod. but that wasn't enough for him he brings his thumb to my mouth dragging it across my lips "use your words baby" he cooed

"yeah- yes.. i want to do this." i fumble with his belt buckle, his eyes burning into my skull making me feel intimidated by his gaze.

i get the belt undone and pull his pants down, he lifts his hips a bit to help. "doin' so good already but-" he picks his phone up checking the time "-they're gonna need me in atleast 7 minutes" he places the phone back down.

his hard cock is freed from the confinement of his boxers. i put the head of his cock at my lips, kitty licking the tip before putting my mouth around him.

a low grunt is heard from him encouraging me to sink my mouth down further.

he grabs a handful of my hair and carelessly pushing my head down, i gag on his dick and im quick to remove my mouth off him "stoopp" i whine

"alright im sorry" he takes his hands away from my hair and puts them up surrendering.

a knock on the trailer door followed by a girl telling Nicholas he's needed on set. "5 more minutes!" he yells loud enough for the lady to hear from outside.

nicholas turns back to me and raises his eyebrows "see we don't have much time" he shrugs.

i wrap my mouth around him for the second time, already use to the length reaching the back of my throat.

he allows me to do whatever i please with my mouth; watching me take his length. i swallow around him and nearly choke when he accidentally jerks forward and thrusting down the back of my throat.

"shit.." nicholas drawls out throwing his head back at the feeling.

i change my pace, bobbing my head faster and using my hand to pump whatever i couldn't fit in my mouth. he whimpers softly, i looked up at him, his lips caught between his teeth, cheeks flushed and eyebrows knitted together while his eyes were screwed shut. perfect like i said before

"you're such a good girl f'me y'know that?" i hum in reaponse, the vibration around his cock made him moan loudly.

"sir are you ok?" the lady asked from outside; rattling the doorknob. "fine- just fine!" ,,give me one more minute please"

i swirl my tounge around his tip then using my hand to stroke him till he reaches his orgasm "m' close" he whimpers.

i put my mouth on the head of his cock and let him paint the back of my throat.

i wipe the sides of my mouth and rise from my knees while Nicholas pulls his underwear and pants back up. "lets finish up whenever i get home yeah?" he kisses my head and walks out the trailer.