#how can you have such a good taste and such a bad taste at the same time

[dilfdicks]

cw: infidelity

gojo just can't bring himself to care that you're dating his best friend. he's had all the late night guy-talk sessions with suguru and he knows that the man doesn't treat you good enough in bed. suguru is always confiding in satoru about how you seem to fake your orgasms, and how long it takes him on the rare occasion he is able to make you cum. it's not like his friend is bad at sex, he just hasn't taken the time to learn your body.

you're so pretty, satoru knows you'd look so good wrapped around his cock. he can't believe your godly presence is wasted on a man that doesnt care to earn the ins-and-outs of your body.

so when you and suguru fight one day, satoru is the first to step in and offer you his comforts. a hand on your shoulder that aches to trickle down and squeeze at your tits. god you're so pretty when you're all teary eyed and vulnerable.

"he can't even make me finish," is a sentence that leaves your lips before you can stop it and god is satoru thankful for your slip up because otherwise he'd have no opportunity to move in.

you're taken aback when he kisses you, gentle and loving and not at all mean and hungry like he wants to. you pull back, shaking your head and mumbling about how this is wrong but your thighs are squeezing together and you chase his lips when gojo pulls back entirely.

you realise with a tearing guilt in your chest that you want this, to taste what the strongest is willing to give you. and whatever bad feelings pool in your heart are numbed for the time being when satoru hauls you onto your back and parts your knees with his hands.

he's a horrible friend, and you're a horrible partner, but he makes you cum twice on his tongue before even daring to push his dick into you. your orgasms are full bodied and eye-opening and a testament to your guilt because when satoru reaches over for a condom you stop him. you never took suguru raw, always made him wear a condom and pull out just to be safe: but in that moment you think you'd die if you weren't pumped full of his best friends cum.

and you might die, because the stretch of gojos girth is a shock to your system and you think the afterlife might not be so bad if it tastes like him. you take him fully after a few minutes to adjust and the rest is history: you're infatuated with the first stroke and in love with the second.

satoru fills you up with his cum after only a few minutes, though you don't mind his quick climax because you're at heel and cumming on his cock in the same minute. and he pulls out, lets his cum leak out of you onto the sheets beneath you before ramming his length into you again. and again. and again.

and all he can think about as he fucks you for the second (but not last) time of the night is how much better he is for you than suguru. and, if you're awful like he hopes you are and keep him around, how the next time you let suguru fuck you it's 'satoru' thats going to fall from your lips.

[not-available-for-comment]

THANK YOU SO MUCH. The attempted rehabilitation of Mrs. Bennet by fandom drives me bananas. My own mother occasionally lacked the awareness to make things easy for me socially but she was NOT a horrible selfish grasping shrew. There is a HUGE DIFFERENCE. The text is clearly and explicitly portraying a bad mother, and showing how her own irresponsible choices make everything worse.

My own mother had a different kind of bad mother herself, so it has always bothered me the degree to which people want to make excuses for mothers specifically, as though bad fathers are the only kind of bad parent that exists. Mothers can also be bad parents and it’s ok and in fact important to acknowledge that. Yeah our parents (even at times our fathers!) have pressures on them that aren’t obvious to us as kids, and I’m extremely aware from personal experience of what those pressures can be. But even people who are making bad parenting decisions for understandable reasons are bad parents. In an IRL situation it is ok to say well clearly you were a bad parent during this period but as an adult I’ve decided to forgive you and continue having a relationship with you and that’s ok too! That’s allowed and is a rough approximation of how I’ve chosen to approach my relationship with my own most difficult parent.

But Mrs. Bennet is fictional. You’re not gonna hurt her feelings by failing to show up for Christmas dinner. She is trapped in amber during the period in her daughters’ lives when she was probably least nurturing and most difficult to deal with, and acknowledging that is honest and hurts no one. A lot of defenses of her boil down to “yeah she was awful but you have to understand that she was worried for her daughters’ future”. To which I have 2 things to say:

Clearly not fucking worried enough, since she chose living vicariously through Lydia and indulging her own tastes over her daughters’s material benefit with incredible consistency.

This argument makes my skin crawl due to how often I see it applied to similarly selfish mothers IRL. We have a wider culture of excusing unhealthy maternal behavior because “her heart’s in the right place”. You know what after a certain point the placement of your goddamn heart doesn’t matter anymore. If you’ve gotta fake good behavior then just do that and leave your hazy grasp of anatomy out of it.

I know this is ranty and less articulate than the posts above, but I think you could argue that this conversation highlights a maybe under appreciated way that Austen is still relevant in the modern era. Yeah there are a lot of differences in culture between her time and ours, and the process of looking for a partner is typically pretty different. But this book also asks the questions “what is a ‘good’ marriage, and what are ‘good’ parents in the context of looking for a spouse?” And provides a really interesting gallery of options in response to both questions. Is Darcy a good ‘parent’ to Georgiana? Who is a better parent to Lydia, Darcy or her own parents? Is Charlotte’s financially advantageous marriage a ‘good’ one? Should her parents have allowed it? What about Mr. and Mrs. Bennett’s? And while Charlotte’s choice is I think probably viewed a lot less sympathetically now than it would’ve been at the time, I’d be fascinated to know how this conversation compares to Mrs. Bennett’s reception at the time of publication. A good marriage looks different now, but good parents? Oh now that conversation is as old as the hills…

For the past several years (and perhaps longer) in the P&P fandom I've seen a lot of people who want to rehabilitate Mrs. Bennet: like, sure, she's uncouth and seems greedy, but it's because she cares so much about her daughters' futures; her situation is actually really stressful and uncertain and she's powerless to change it and her husband makes fun of her, and so it's natural that it would cause her to be anxious all the time; maybe she doesn't have the intelligence or social awareness to understand that her behaviour is actually harming her daughters' prospects, but at least her heart is in the right place.

I'm usually not the type of person who argues that fandom is actually being too nice to a female character, but in this case I don't buy the counter-narrative (which I think is popular enough at this point to be fanon / a narrative in itself) about Mrs. Bennet.

For one thing, she was never really powerless in this situation. These people are rich even for gentry. Mr. Bennet's income was always good, at 2,000 pounds per annum (even though I can't believe he isn't neglecting some practices that could raise it higher). Mrs. Bennet had 4,000 pounds from her parents and a further 1,000 from Mr. Bennet. Invested in the 4 per cents (for example), this is 200 pounds per year in pin money that Mrs. Bennet could spend without touching the principle of her dowry, and without affecting Mr. Bennet's income. This is more than some people's entire yearly incomes.

The picture of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet that we get in P&P is not of people who are helpless against their circumstances, but of people who are extraordinarily neglectful. We're told that:

Mr. Bennet had very often wished, before this period of his life, that, instead of spending his whole income, he had laid by an annual sum, for the better provision of his children, and of his wife, if she survived him. [...] When first Mr. Bennet had married, economy was held to be perfectly useless; for, of course, they were to have a son. This son was to join in cutting off the entail, as soon as he should be of age, and the widow and younger children would by that means be provided for. Five daughters successively entered the world, but yet the son was to come; and Mrs. Bennet, for many years after Lydia’s birth, had been certain that he would. This event had at last been despaired of, but it was then too late to be saving. Mrs. Bennet had no turn for economy; and her husband’s love of independence had alone prevented their exceeding their income.

We also know that the "continual presents in money which passed to [Lydia] through her mother’s hands," plus her allowance and food, amount to about 90 pounds per year. Rather than saving up from the beginning in case the entail is not broken, rather than beginning to save once it's clear a son will not arrive, rather than making Jane's dowry the full 5,000 from her mother (which would be something) and saving up for the younger girls' dowries thereafter—which is what would be typical, and that's why Lady Catherine was so shocked that all the girls were out at once—Mrs. Bennet's housekeeping, dress, the girls' allowance, presents of money over and above their allowance, plus whatever Mr. Bennet is spending money on (and other expenses relating to servants, carriages, maintenance &c. which are unavoidable), add up to their entire income. The only reason why Mrs. Bennet doesn't overspend even that is that that's where Mr. Bennet puts his foot down.

Mrs. Bennet is actively harming her daughters' prospects, not even of marriage, but of living respectably if they don't marry, because she doesn't have the temperance not to spend all of the income that is allotted to her. It is the role of the woman in a marriage to take charge of the housekeeping, servants, cooking, furniture, and all expenses relating thereto (plus certain attentions to her tenants and any living in genteel poverty in the area, though presumably this will depend on her income and whether there's a parish church with a parson's wife who's doing some of these things). She's an adult who should be competent to manage these things in a reasoned way without needing to be dictated to.

It is supposed to be the role of the woman in a marriage to take charge of her daughters' education—and yet Mrs. Bennet did not hire a governess, and Elizabeth says that she didn't spend much time teaching her daughters anything (it's not clear to what degree she's educated herself). Granted, the girls did have masters—but, from the sounds of things, that was only if they requested them. No one was required to learn much of anything, which will probably further harm the marriage prospects of the girls who "chose to be idle."

I think the "point" of Mrs. Bennet is that she is one half of one type of bad marriage which the novel illustrates, in contrast with the Gardiners' marriage. These marriages are two possible models for the Bennet daughters to look to. At one point, Elizabeth's prospective marriage is explicitly compared to her parents', with her in the role of her father: Mr. Bennet says "My child, let me not have the grief of seeing you unable to respect your partner in life" (emphasis original).

We might wonder whether Elizabeth saw herself potentially in the role of her father, in a marriage that was very intellectually unequal, when she rejected Mr. Collins; or whether she also saw herself in the role of her mother, married to a man who insults and doesn't respect her, when she rejected Mr. Darcy. Ultimately, she accepts Mr. Darcy after she realises that he is nothing like her father; that he is diligent in attending to his responsibilities, and that he does evidently respect her mind.

This isn't me defending Mr. Bennet, who is also a bad parent and a bad spouse. I do, however, find it a little disturbing when people suggest that Mr. Bennet is at fault for not controlling or curtailing his wife. His wife is a grown woman. Surely we don't actually believe that a situation where a man is legally in complete control over his wife, merely because he is a man and she is a woman, is in any way natural, moral, or just? (This also goes for people who suggest that Mr. Bingley needs to get his sister 'in line' 😬😬😬.)

Mrs. Bennet should be competent to manage her household and her daughters. Given that she's not, yes, Mr. Bennet, according to Georgian and Victorian ideas of the role of a man in a marriage, "should" have stepped in and started dictating to her. But I don't really think that's what Austen is suggesting went wrong here. The models of good marriages we have—the Gardiners, the Bingleys and Darcys after their weddings—are all ones in which the women were basically sensible people to begin with. In the latter two cases, we are told of particular ways in which the men stand to benefit from some mental quality of their future spouse (Elizabeth's good humour and ease in company; Jane's steadiness and determination).

The ideal which some Georgians had of a husband's role being to shape his wife's intellect doesn't seem to be what's being advocated here. If Mr. Bennet made a mistake, it was in marrying a silly, selfish, ill-tempered woman to begin with, not in failing to browbeat her into submission once he found out that she was silly, selfish, and ill-tempered. The idea is that you should choose your spouse carefully. But that message doesn't work if Mrs. Bennet is just a woman in a difficult situation who has her heart in the right place.

[7s3ven]

MAFIA AU! TASK FORCE 141 x MOB BOSS GF! READER

( head cannons / might turn into a series )

Feel free to to request more scenarios with this au LOL

Notes: poly, reader is described as on the shorter side, age gap, daddy issues (reader has a bad father), inappropriate jokes/themes mentioned

YSL, red bottom shoes, sugary cocktails, leopard print, faux fur, y2k, mcbling, lana del rey, cigarettes, mob boss wife…

- When people join the mafia, they expect tough muscled men, maybe a few scarred women carelessly waving around guns. What they don’t expect is you

- You’re an interesting sight, perched on Price’s lap like a little trophy, freshly manicured nails tapping away at your phone screen as you play a game

- You don’t care about whatever meeting you’re in, you aren’t even listening to Price’s rather gory plans. You’re too busy deciding what to have for lunch

- Nobody can look away from your pretty pout as you discover your favourite drink is temporarily out of stock

- Price was the one who found you first. Your father was indebted to the mafia and what better way to force him to pay than taking his precious daughter? Price found it strange how you were so willing to leave your father but it made sense when you told him the truth

- Your father wasn’t a good man. He had blood on his hands and he never cared much about you or your mother. You were thankful to find a way out, even if it meant going with a strange (but equally handsome) man

- You belonged to Price first but his property was Simon, Kyle, and Jonny’s as well

- “Jonny, is this skirt too short?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

Jonny glanced up from his phone, shrugging. “Nah. It’s all good, bonnie. I can fight. ‘Sides, shorter skirts makes it easier to bend ya over.”

- Simon loves sharing his cigarettes with you, especially when you kiss him and transfer the smoke into his mouth. The best part is seeing your lipstick stain the end of his cigarette

- Price buys you lots of clothes and accessories. You’re never not draped in the most expensive jewellery he can find. Gaz is the one buying you heels. For some reason, he has a knack for choosing the best shoes

- Seeing you waltz around in your short skirts, lace tops, and clicking high heels is enough of a reward for the four men

- The rookies love the sight of you but you’re forbidden fruit. You belonged to their bosses who did not like to share

- When there’s talk of a rat among the mafia, your four lovers do not take it kindly. They need someone to infiltrate whatever plot is brewing up. Luckily, they have you. Nobody in their right mind would pass a chance on being able to get a taste of your strawberry-flavored lipgloss

- “Oh my gosh, it’s giving office siren.” You say, excitedly tugging on the tight, short-sleeved blouse that Ghost is shaking his head at.

“It’s too short.” He mutters, “Ain’t there a ‘nother size?”

“It was the only one. Sorry, baby.” You sheepishly smiled at your lover’s displeasure. “Anyway, how do I look?”

Clad in that damn white blouse, a short pencil skirt, and thinly rimmed glasses, you were a vision.

“You look like you’re ’bout to get some action when ya get back.” Kyle says, nodding over at Soap who’s staring at you shamelessly.

“How ‘bout this, lovie?” Price steps forward, “If you do a good job, we’ll give you a little reward. Sound good, yeah?”

( please note that for the cod tag list, you will be tagged in all the cod fics i post, not just this one lol )

COD TAG LIST (COMMENT TO BE ADDED/REMOVED):

[kurominis]

HI HIIII KURO

Can I request Academic Rival x Male Reader?

The academic rival, let’s call him Alistair, gets jealous upon watching the reader be all cutesy on a date with a member of the football team

Cue an angry, foul-mouthed confession from Alistair. THEN cue an equally foul-mouthed session of cock sucking (courtesy of throat goat reader), to the point where the reader have fully turned the table on Alistair and reduced him to a shaking, whining mess.

Rivals..?

ofc you can lovelyy

Rivals to lovers(?) Rivals to fuck buddies(?),Not proofread, I don't remember the rest I'm so fried rn, kinda ass don't jump me

How did you even end up in this situation? You were down on your knees deep in your rivals, Alistair, legs sucking his dick?!?! "ff-fuckk your m-mouth is so ttight.. " As he kept babbling on about how good your throat felt you were recalling how you even got to this point. You we're on a date with Devlin, the linebacker of the team, and you two were having a pretty good time he bought you lunch and you two were just walking around when... Alistair came out of nowhere looking pretty pissed.. And he started yelling on and on about something you don't remember and when you yelled back at him he just grabbed you ignoring your protest and threw you in the nearest restroom stall and kissed you...? The both of you started slowing making out completely forgetting about the screaming match you both we're having. And as the make out session got more and more heated you lost your train of thought when you heard him whining. "m-mmh.. why did you stop.. more please.. I want more of your warm sweet mouth on me...please I'll do anythi-" before he could let him get another word out of his sentence you deep throated his thick cock all the way down to put yourself nose deep in his dark oh so sweet pubes. "OH FUCK OH n-NGHH FFFUCK♡ " his sultry moans just make you suck on him faster and harder. As you kept sucking you felt his dick twitching in your mouth. You then popped his cock out of your mouth and started giving him a sweet handjob with your warm hands. "mm-mh c-c-cumming..! C-CUMMING♡ " he says as he cums all over your face. His sweet substance has a little bit of a salty taste but, nothing you wouldn't get used to. As you licked the cum off your hands you swear you saw his dick twitch again as he looked down on you. "You know if you wanna go again, we should go some place more quiet.. And, you know. Clean. " After saying that without letting him even answer you drag him out the bathroom stalls and too your car. You two have a very long night ahead of you. <3

someone ban me from writing smut I can't do this I'm so bad at it

anyway tiny taglist !

@darlingminjin @mailmango

yeah that's it and be ready for two specials coming up hurrayy ! <3

[rs-hawk]

Could you do a modern day female orc x female reader? I see very little now

Sure! A lot of my short stories tend not to be modern set so that might be why for me.

When you saw Cassia for the first time, your heart fluttered. Your chest felt tight. Your lungs were tight. It was like you were struck all at once. Was this what love at first sight felt like? It was a whirlwind romance, but after only a few days of talking, she was inviting you out to drinks. You flushed when you said yes.

Of course, you forgot that Orc bars are not the same thing as human bars. There were similarities, the loud music, the loud patrons, and the stench of liquor and sweat, but the way that the Orcs interacted with each other was something you never thought about, and definitely didn't expect.

Cassia, being a large woman, with large, thick tusks that put even many male ones to shame, commanded respect the second she walked in. All eyes were on her, and your face flushed darkly under the gaze of the other Orcs. Once the two of you sat down, the bartender didn't even ask you what you wanted to drink. He just slid a glass of clear liquid towards you.

"it's pretty much the only thing humans can drink in here," Cassia explained, taking what was clearly her usual from the bartender who winked at her as he handed the glass to her.

"Is Orc liquor that much stronger?" you asked, looking at her glass curiously. Was it really stronger, or was it just that Orcs are so large that it doesn't affect them the same way?

She laughed, tilting the glass towards you. "If you're going to eye me so suspiciously take a sip and see for yourself." When you leaned forward, she leaned in, whispering in a voice that made heat pool between your legs, "a sip, human. Remember."

And you did. You took a sip, and she was right. Whatever Orc liquor was made of was way too strong for humans. If you had drank much more than that, you'd be black out drunk already. You laughed, and the two of you seemed to be getting along really well. You kept leaning over, touching her arm, batting your eyes up at her. Every time you did, it made her smile, or laugh. She was clearly enthralled with you too.

Before too long, both of you were drunk. "I have to pee," you announced, staggering to your feet.

"I'll go with you," she offered, getting up on her unsteady feet.

The two of you leaned against each other, with you obviously leaning more heavily on her. Once the two of you were done, and washing your hands, Cassia looked over at you.

"You're gorgeous," she muttered, her eyes now hungry as her gaze stalked up and down your body.

Goosebumps sprung up under her gaze. "So are you. I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful woman," you whispered, eyes round as she leaned forward to finally kiss you.

The kiss was rough, and you had to be careful because of her tusks. They scraped the side of your cheeks, but you didn't care. Her mouth tasted like liquor and gum, and you hoped your breath didn't smell or taste bad, but that thought only came to you for a moment as she lifted you onto the counter. Part of you wanted to protest, but between the intoxication from the liquor and the intoxication from how good she was making you feel, you didn't dare.

She slipped a hand down your pants, pressing her fingers to your soaked cunt over your panties. "So wet already for me," she moaned, pushing your panties to the side to be able to tease you with one of her large fingers.

You spread your legs, wanting to give her more access. "So good. You're so good," you moaned back, grinding your hips against her finger.

It wasn't long until she had brought you to the edge of an orgasm, where you were whining and begging her to let you finish. However, when she dropped to her knees, ripping off your pants and panties, you almost cry in anticipation. Her fat tongue works over your desperate cunt perfectly. Her finger now circling and teasing your clit as she lapped at you, parting your lower lips with her skilled tongue. Tears pricked your eyes as you felt yourself tettering on the edge as she played with your body.

"Cum for me. I want to taste you," she groaned against your skin, reaching up with her other hand to fondle and play with one of your breasts, lightly pinching the nipple.

Almost on command, you cum, covering your mouth to keep from screaming, though you're sure the whole bar knows what the two of you were doing in here. After the waves of pleasure crashing over you subside, she kisses your inner thighs, her tusks scraping the soft skin there, threatening, but also comforting. Such a dangerous creature is so gentle with you.

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[ladykailitha]

The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 11

Just two more chapters to go. The tension is ramping up and you're gonna want to hold on to your seats. This is the penultimate chapter before everything is revealed. And hooboy is it going to be great fun.

In this we find out who the cleaner was and he gives Eddie the final clue he needs to stop his troubles once and for all.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

~

Eddie enjoyed watching the cleaning crew. They were like bees in a hive, not bumping up against each other or trying to do the same tasks. Cleaning up after some days was hell, like Tuesdays and Saturdays and he always made sure to pay extra on those days.

That said, he really didn’t know any of them. The only familiar faces were the foremen. Eddie has asked the head forman about it once and was told that cleaning Hellfire was such a cushy job that he rotated teams so that everyone got a chance at it.

So imagine his surprise when one of the cleaners stopped Steve on his way out of the dressing room for a short chat.

It looked a little heated, if Eddie was being honest and was about to step in when Steve broke away from the conversation and drifted his direction.

Eddie cocked his head toward the cleaner. “Who was that?”

“An old friend of mine,” Steve said with a shrug. “I didn’t realize he had fallen on such hard times. Apparently his mom broke her hip and hasn’t been able to work for the last year.”

“That’s rough,” Eddie said, and waved his arm for Steve to go first. “I don’t know how much the cleaners make, but maybe if he puts in an application we can find him something to do here. Hell, he could work in the kitchen if Monty liked him well enough.”

His chef was a thin, wiry looking fellow, but he knew how to make the best club food anyone had ever tasted. He was also particular about who worked with him. But Monty could always use an extra hand or two and it would never hurt to try.

“I’ll let him know the next time I see him,” Steve said with a fond smile. “He’s also got a little brother in college, maybe have him apply too. Couldn’t hurt. What’s the least that’s going to happen, you say no? They won’t be any worse off for applying.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. He didn’t think that he would hire either of them if he was honest, but like Steve said, they wouldn’t be worse off for it. “So how was Creepy McCreepy?”

Steve bumped Eddie with his hip. “Henry Creel was fine. He’s just passing through, by the way, Mr. Worry Wort. I think he has bigger fish to fry then some high end exotic dancing club. Not that this place isn’t worth scalping, but I think he’s aiming for higher?”

“World domination?” Eddie teased, leaning into Steve space.

He laughed and nudged him away with his elbow. “Yeah, probably.”

~

Eddie ended up meeting with Steve’s friend because the guy needed consistent money coming in and while cleaning job paid okay, it really didn’t have many regular clients other than the club. Mostly they cleaned up after major sporting events, political conventions, stuff like that. And with their boss Murray always rotating the crew who cleaned the club, some weeks were good, others not so much.

Eddie had to admit that guy cleaned up really good. With his hair out of his face and wearing nice clothes, he wasn’t bad to look at.

“Jonathan Byers?” he said, rising to greet him from a table he had sectioned off for the interview.

“Yeah,” he said, shaking Eddie’s hand. “Thanks for agreeing to see me.”

Eddie smiled. “No problem. I’m sorry to hear about your mom.”

“Thank you.”

Eddie pulled out three pages and spread them out in front of Jonathan. “There are three positions open right now, let’s see if you fit any one of them.”

He pointed to the first one. “This is for the busser position. Basically you go around after people have left to take away plates and glasses as well as pick up any tips. You’ll get a small portion of the tips but mostly it’s a flat rate of $15 an hour.”

Jonathan nodded.

“This one is for a cook’s assistant,” Eddie said tapping on the second one. “Often called a prep chef in bigger kitchens. Basically you’ll prepare everything for the chef and put it in the fridge for him to grab as he goes. You’ll get here at 4pm and leave at 8pm when the club opens. Pay is $22 an hour because it’s only four hours a day.”

Again Jonathan nodded. “That makes sense.”

“And finally the waiter position,” Eddie said. “This one in the highest paid, but also the most demanding. You’ll only have two days off a week and you’ll work from 8pm-2am. Base pay is $15 an hour, but you get a set amount of tips every night. Usually it’s percentage, but if it’s a rough night, you’ll see a base pay of $200 in tips for the night. You aren’t expected to pimp for tips as it were, as you aren’t the main attraction. You’ll be invisible for most of the time and some will even get mad at you for blocking their view of the show.”

“Wow,” Jonathan said. “That’s really fucking generous.”

“I try to be,” Eddie said cocking his head to side, “because living in this hellscape we call American Capitalism is hard enough without having to worry about not having enough money for shit.”

“Can I take these with me and then send over my resume for the position I’m most interested in applying for?” Jonathan asked, placing his hand over the a couple of the pages.

“Sure thing,” Eddie said. “I have copies on my computer. I’ll give you to the end of the week, otherwise I’m going to have to start looking elsewhere.” He stood up and Jonathan did the same.

“That’s fair,” Jonathan said, holding up the pages. “Thanks for this. Because you gave me a chance, even if I don’t end up working here.”

They shook hands.

“Let me walk you to your car,” Eddie said, waving his arm for Jonathan to go first.

He huffed out a laugh. “I don’t have a car right now, my girlfriend is coming to pick me.”

“Then I’ll wait with you,” Eddie offered.

Jonathan considered it a moment and then shrugged. “Sure, man. Whatever.”

They walked out to the curb and chatted about Jonathan’s family and how his mom was doing. “My brother is going to be famous one day,” Jonathan said with pride. “He is such an amazing painter, his work should be hung galleries.”

“Yeah?” Eddie said with a smile. He knew that tone of voice. It was the same tone Wayne got when he talked about him. “So what did baby Jonathan Byers want to be when he grew up?”

“This is going to sound so weird,” Jonathan said with a smirk, “but a bug photographer. Not wild life in general. Bugs. Creepy crawlies. Insects and spiders. I loved that shit as a kid. I don’t know how many times I freaked out my mom by bringing in a new bug to take pictures of and then release back into the wild.”

“Young Eddie would have loved you,” he said softly. “I liked bugs and critters you aren’t supposed to go anywhere near. Raccoons, possums, squirrels. Baby Eddie loved them all. My mom,” he wagged his hand back and forth, “not so much.”

“There she is now,” Jonathan said jutting his chin at the red hatchback pulling into the parking lot.

Eddie pursed his lips and resolved not to say a damn word until she did.

And oh boy did she ever. She got out of the car and immediately started yelling at Jonathan.

“What on earth are you doing here?” she cried. “I thought you had an interview.”

Eddie tilted his head to side. “Not an interview yet, more like a fact finding mission. But I like him.” He grinned at her.

“I forbid you from working here!” she shrieked. “This is a den of sin! I have vowed to take it down.”

“Nancy,” Jonathan said warningly. “We’ve had this discussion. If I didn’t work at every place you found morally objectionable, I wouldn’t be able to work at all. I just need something stable until Will graduates and Mom can move around on her own again.”

“When you told me that Steve was working in this hive of iniquity ,” Nancy growled, “I made it my responsibility to shut it down once and for all. To save Steve, to save you from having to sweep the vile filth from its floors.”

“What?!” Jonathan cried. “I didn’t tell you Steve was working here to have you go on one of your crusades. I told you because Steve was a good friend when both of you were dancing ballet together.”

“It’s a sin!” she cried one more time.

“So is fornication,” Jonathan huffed. “And breaking and entering and a shit ton of other things you do that are supposedly okay as long as you do them.”

Nancy folded her arms and stomped her foot. “That’s not the same and you know it. They have actual fucking nights dedicated to a specific deadly sin. I may have broken a few laws in my time, but I would never stoop the depths of depravity that his club sinks to!”

“You continue with this vendetta,” Jonathan warned, “and I swear to God, we’re through. There is nothing wrong with what they do. So what if people see them naked. Don’t go see it. Your rights stop at their personhood. You can only dictate what you do and not anyone else.”

He turned to Eddie. “Can you take me home? I don’t think I want to be in the same car as her.”

“Sure thing, man,” he replied, thumbing behind him. “Just let me lock up and I’ll be right out.”

When he came back Nancy had gone and Jonathan looked like a kicked puppy.

“You ready to go?”

Jonathan nodded and without a word followed him to his car. After get the address and putting it into the GPS, Eddie said, “I’m sorry about how she acted. Has she done this sort of thing before?”

“When I first graduated high school I got a job at a photography studio,” he muttered. “I took pictures of babies and toddlers. I had this cute little pink rabbit that never failed to get a smile.” He cleared his throat. “She found out that in addition to family portraits, bridal and wedding photos, they also did boudoir photo shoots.”

“Oh no,” Eddie moaned, completely seeing where this was going.

“Yeah,” Jonathan said with a sniffle. “She got the place shut down when she found out that some official’s daughter got them for the guy she was sleeping with, who was not her fiancé.”

Eddie frowned. That sounded too familiar.

“Anyway,” Jonathan continued, “this bitch got the whole place shut down and suddenly I was without a job. If I ever find her, I think I’d like to strangle her with my bare hands.”

“Her named wouldn’t be Heather Holloway, would it? Mayor Kirk Holloway’s daughter?” Eddie asked running his tongue over his upper lip slowly.

Jonathan snapped his fingers. “Yeah, that’s the snake in the grass.”

Eddie pulled off to the side of the road and closed his eyes. “It’s a fucking scam. Holy shit! It’s a fucking scam.”

“What is?” Jonathan asked.

Eddie turned around. “I just figured the whole thing out. All of it. The attacks against Steve, Billy getting caught with his hands up the wrong skirt, Jason fucking Carver. I’ve got to give it to your girl, she is one smart manipulative bitch. But I’m smarter.”

~

Tag List:

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts @too-much-tma-stuff @dolphincliffs @chameleonhair

10- @themoonagainstmers @gloomysoup @novelnovella @micheledawn1975 @garden-of-gay

[diorcities]

snooze

jisung x you genre smut content friends with benefits, mention of mingi (hope you get why), cunnilingus, riding, multiple orgasm, unprotected sex, oral sex, fingering, nipple play, squirting, cum eating, wc 4k ── you always leave him and he plans to make you stay.

ever since you kissed him, he can’t get you out of his mind.

it had been useless, had it?

it didn't take long for jisung to figure it out. he knows perfectly well that he gets attached quickly, his friends always tease him about it.

much there was say jisung was very chill. he was fine with evasive looks just like fingers pressing into his shoulder blades. the short greetings at gatherings as well as soft sounds muffled against his lips.

jisung couldn't make his head to begin to describe you, and the closest he's come is a little charm at night.

he's been lost because of it. only you can make him fall in love, only if you say yes.

“oh, my god. you can't be serious.” nayeon, dressed like a cheetah, shouts making her way through the tide of people to you, her gaze lost behind you.

and it is both your gift and your curse to know what has her upset without having to look. a boy with fangs and light brown hair with blonde highlights dancing and making out a girl prettier than the previous one and uglier than the next he'll met. “it can't be that he got over you so quickly,” she says while glaring. and despite feeling upset just like your best friend, you can't help but feel this immense lack of something. because while mingi kisses her, he doesn't stop looking at you.

it's been a while since you two broke up. the normal thing would be to keep going, yet you're still in the same place, just without the same feelings except regret. “it's alright,” you hear yourself say, only it's not.

if it makes him feel good to kiss girls in front of you, then it's fine. either way, you're the worst traitor.

it was a bad idea to have come, but you're used to always making a mistake. big ones are just as much a part of you as are your bad decisions. “i'll go smoke a little. listen, if you see ghostface, tell him he owes me money.”

she winks at you, “sure thing, angel.”

you move out of his sight and it feels ridiculous to see himself following your trail with his eyes until you move outside. when he feels that you've ignored him for too long, he's the first to offer truce.

“you look like a dream.” he's been drinking for a while, so he knows he'd never, ever dare to talk to you. but he knows that a couple of beers and the bad influence of his friends must not mix up.

“why?” he wasn't sure if he preferred your obnoxious demeanor or your condescending eyes meeting him. “have you dreamed of me?”

he looks stupid, and you smile wide when a blush tint his cheeks. because yes, he has. despite all the grace and angelic energy that your eyes transmit, jisung is embarrassed that every time he thinks of you the first thing that appears in his dirty mind is those wet eyes trying to stay open while looking at him from under his body. legs wrapped loose around his waist and parted lips inciting him to taste them.

he swallows hard and without meaning to, his eyes feel like two wells. his mouth is dry or maybe he's craved your lips a bit too much. a tingling runs through his fingers and his fingertips buzz. you have no idea how much he wants you, or maybe you do, because you smile wider.

all your grace takes form in dreamy eyes before you kiss him. and kiss him. and kiss him. his emotions get tangled followed by your responsive heart. he can't beat it, the feelings.

it's killing him, and it would hurt him more to admit that he's used all his manipulative tactics; lies and deceit, pretty words, empty promises. but then he looks at you with his pretty pleading love-me eyes and you can't handle it anymore. he kisses the inside of your wrist as he looks at you from below and you almost hesitate.

because that's his curse, or perhaps it is yours. you always leave. you're an angel faced like yet you're full of haunting. with your condescending gaze, virtuous lips stretched in a smile; shiny eyes filled contempt, as if you regretted something that you both tried so hard to ignore so as not to feel guilty. when the truth is, jisung could hardly think of anything other than you.

and he plans to make you stay.

his hand intertwines with yours, and there it is again. a monstrous hesitation. every time this drags on, the more guilty you feel; for thinking of him when you were together.

jisung's kisses drift you to the surface. “is it because of him?” he pronounces, and you've been an idiot for thinking he wouldn't notice at some point. “mingi?” he asks, drawing your hand to his chest, and the gesture causes the devious swarm to disperse as you swallow.

you shake your head, and unexpectedly you chuckle lightly, “no.”

there's no one bound to you. you're not tethered to him anymore, yet it felt like you were betraying him. it seemed like you've made a big mistake a long time ago and now this monstrous thought of whether he will ever forgive you does not cease to haunt you.

you've never been good at keeping your emotions at bay, so guilt eclipses other feelings, it overshadows your heart, beating to the rhythm of his pulse under your palm, slowly moving towards his jawline.

these rendezvous were not going to end well, and even so... you always came back. to him. he smells fresh and manly. he smells familiar.

he likes to eat you out first. it is almost inevitable to do so, as if something were missing. as if he were obsessed. and yet he takes his tortuous time and start kissing your stomach, the soft taut skin of your hip bone, where his hands tuck underneath to place them over his shoulders. “think only of me.”

your full legs bury his head and your femininity is received by caresses. tongue roaming along your core, plump lips sucking you. the right angle makes you sigh, “yes.” your mouth opens in awe and your eyes flutter shut feeling that tingling forming in your guts. just where his hands hold you so you don't move. “yes...” he glances at you the moment he use his tongue to put pressure on the sweet bulge to see you squeeze your eyes and tilt your head back.

he hums, and your whole body shivers feeling the cocky smile on his lips around you, full of spit and arousal covering his face for constantly hitting his nose in your sweet spot. you dissolve into nothing, your blood becomes washy, and you arch violently as he ventures his tongue down your folds into your needy entrance. “a-ahg.”

something hot runs down your belly and explodes into pleasant waves when it tightens your grip and pulls you closer, diving deep to taste your silkiness, hissing when feels too good. “mmm... god.” your teeth grind and your eyes squeeze at the sound his mouth makes every time he rocks his tongue along your sensitive clit, roaming his lips and sucking you rhythmically.

“fuck, you taste divine.” his hot breath brushes against your femininity and the purr of his deep tone causes you to buzz synchronously, the core of your belly sinking and legs trembling at his voice. “so sweet, my girl.”

he shakes his head as he smiles against you, and you're losing your mind at the view of his pretty face enraptured in the aroma of your intimacy. eyes closed while he sucks you good and holds your legs apart from bellow your thighs, keeping you spread for him.

you twitch in delight and his eyes darken having you on full display, grabbing his hair and guiding his motion where you most need him. “oh, yes. there... there.” your back arches unconsciously as your shaking voice tells him where to lick, where to nibble, where to caress. “feels good, ji.”

you're so wet you can hear it every time he rubs your clit dexterously with tongue and teeth, your mind filling with a hazy sensation you can't help but tremble hard, “s-good,” you cry feeling sensitivity numb your hurting nipples once he cups them on his big hands. too much to keep quiet. too much to hold it all in. your shaky moans fill the room when a sharp sensation sink your belly and whip your breath away.

jisung hums thoughtfully in glee when you start pulsing around nothing. unshed tears fills your eyes as you succumb to pain from the pleasure that runs through you from head to toe, buzzing in your bloodstream and making you whine for a bit of friction.

you squirm and arch when he pulls away. and you gasp despite watching him take off his belt from his jeans while his eyes don't leave your pussy, throbbing for him.

he's left you so aroused it hurts, wet and willing, your eyes don't leave him while his are fixed on your ruined pussy, missing his mouth full of your silky excitement. jisung licks his lips in trance, undoing zipper to let out his painful, throbbing erection under his underwear. “want to take it?”

your mouth begins to tingle wildly and an impulse forces you to moan a yes. “all?” your eyes darken and it's almost immediately that your hands draw him to you when he leans just a little, as if he wants to play now to see who needs whom, as if not knowing perfectly well that it has always been you.

from the first time you met.

and deep inside him, having you under him guiding him inside of you, he thought it would give him some satisfaction, but the guilt spreads. of course he was terrified of how he felt about you, maybe you were too? were you terrified of what you might feel for him? what did you already feel?

“oh, fuck.” no matter how many times he buries himself in you, it always has the same effect; it always makes him want more. “you feel so good, fuck,” he breathes and takes a moment to feel you, all around him, squeezing him right.

your body feels light when he thrusts you twice, his breath hitting your cheek when he groans, “i can make you forget about him.” and makes your legs fail.

he feels so nicely thick. the mere friction of his cock inside makes a tremor run down your legs and an explosion of sensations in your lower belly, growing when he starts to penetrate you.

he holds over your stomach, he doesn't take it out completely before he puts it back in, the rhythm making you both sobble with pleasure. it's almost tortuous the way it's not enough, to having him fully, fingers massaging your swollen femininity as he hammers your pelvis with yours, sounding deliciously good.

you fall long after you need each other, ardently. despite being intertwined, despite being skin to skin, he's so far away from you, yet so close you can reach his chest, his sturdy forearm. you can reach his lips.

everything condenses, and you seem to be holding your breath. your stomach tenses and something furious flutters in your belly. rises hot through your bloodstream and you find it desperately luring closer to you, moaning “i'm close.”

the motion of his pounding change and become more violent and faster. “oh, god,” you whimper, feeling yourself collapsing. hands pushing on his stomach before he holds both wrists with one of his.

“be a nice girl for me.”

“ji, please.”

your head lolls back as you feel his cock pounding into you roughly. sharp thrusts eliciting sounds out of you. his big hands cupping your breasts as they bounce rhythmically every time he rocks his dick deep, not being able to fully put it out before coming back in. “fuck, you sound so good, angel. fuck.” he's blushed, mouth is part open and tongue slightly sticking out, in a deep state of ecstasy feeling you around him. “f-fuck.” he takes your leg and passes it over his shoulder, and you see the torturous grimace he makes when a shudder strike you so hard that you cry.

your hand covers your mouth when everything comes down. suddenly everything is overwhelming, rousing. your eyes see through your eyelashes to jisung staring at you, so deep in the intoxicating sensation of being full of you, and you being full of him too, you feel it.

you almost see the resemblance. in the brown hair, in the shape of their mouth kissing you. the way they tend to hold you the same way, frowning at you with saddened eyes from being close, drunk in you, but somehow greeny; as if he still possesses innocence to give you if you ask for it.

the feeling they're both in love with you.

yet so different. from the way they both end and begin, despite everything. if you close your eyes, you barely notice the similarity. if you close your eyes, you let yourself go and just feel.

bodies intertwined. mixed sighs. needy kisses. faster and faster, accelerating the pace of his thrusts, sinking hos fingers deeper into your skin until leaving his fingerprints tattooed, sinking into his neck when you feel the expected tingling of being close to the edge, undoing your inside and freeing a thousand wild sensations.

his cock is sweetly pressed into the swelling of your core when he starts to rub your clit with his eyes glued in your features contracting in a shattering pleasure. feeling all your body tensing and your teeth grinding into each other before the big o that explode your senses into a thousand pieces. dissolving around him in spasms that release waves and waves of liquid pleasure that wet his crotch and make him lose his mind.

you're still throbbing when he moans in your mouth as he kisses you, lips colliding with tiredness as you feel him move in and out, pacing the rhythm. your breath trembles from being so sensitive, yet you willingly spread your legs for him to bury deeper. “don't stop.”

your eyes water when he starts sucking your tit while roaming your sides. skin bristling as your fingers draw a line from his arm to the nape of his neck, combing his hair as he begins to penetrate you again. his hoarse voice making you shudder when you hear him moaning against your chest, fogging your skin.

“making me feel so good, angel.” your mouth parts open as he passes an arm under you and arches you toward him, tucking one of your breasts between his lips, using the new grip to make you go down full to his cock, sinking his teeth in the sweet skin of your tits.

he fucks you raw and your blood runs hot. moving you with ease to rest on your side as he align his cock and slide into your pillowy walls drenched in arousal, making you bite the pillow when he hits a different angle.

your intimacy burns sweetly, feeling the enticing sensation of his thickness filling you up every time he pounds into you with rough thrusts. his pelvis collide forcefully against the full skin of your thigh over his leg that your eyes cloud with tears of raw pleasure, buzzing inside.

the constant pounding of his length coated in your slick producing a squelching sound doesn't leave your mind as you come closer and closer to the edge. drowning out a hoarse groan as his warm hand lands on your belly and climbs up your chest to squeeze your breast before interlocking your fingers with his; then you remember the reason, and it makes you go numb from head to toe.

he feels the burning need to hold your hand when he's close.

your skin looks scarlet from the spanking caused by the hand that now holds you tightly while he accelerates the thrusts, getting audibly desperate. his breathing accompanies the sounds that slip from his open mouth as he tries to keep up, deep moans and elongated words leave his lips before he bites it once he sees you guiding his fingers down your clit as you touch yourself. your eyes fluttering and emitting a moan so exquisite that jisung explodes in spasms.

a sharp sensation expands through your body when he lets out the best sound you've ever heard, starting throbbing along with his cock just before he pulls out late and spills his seed on your entrance. you bite your lip feeling the warm cum between your fingers as you massage your sore core.

it's late at midnight when you pass your leg over his chest and gaze at him with crimson cheeks as he stare at the mess. and although his features seem tender to you, his eyes are darkened with pure perversity when he leans over you and make you go on top now.

“wanna stay a little longer?” he smiles lazily as he reaches for a condom, knowing he can't be trusted now. however, it's perhaps the evil and mischievous sparkle in his eyes that tell you that he already had it in mind.

do you seem like a dream now? something as tangible as it is real. or has it all been in his head, like all the times before?

his eyes half-closed with glee lethargy follow the path your lips do when going dangerously down to stimulate his cock with your mouth, and you finally fall into realization. “if you beg...”

between the two brothers, you should've dated jisung instead.

[ataraxiaspainting]

Yandere!Blade with the tower and the hanged man!!! Word count up to you, congrats for reaching 500!!!

the tower - everyone in this event is dead... aside from you and them.

the hanged man - they keep telling you that they will take you outside tomorrow.

i did more of the hanged man than the tower but i hope this is okay!!

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships/kidnapping, mentions of violence, descriptions of self-inflicted starvation/self-harm, and Blade's canonical desire to die.

*~*~*~*

Blade hasn’t eaten in a long time.

The side effects of being mara struck is mostly comprised of downs, but in his opinion this is half of a positive. Starving your body – despite it being able to regenerate faster than someone can take a breath – feels euphoric to someone like him. The flesh isn’t mortal but the way it shrinks makes death feel all the more real. If he tries hard enough, he can imagine his vision spotting. He can try to imagine his bones peeking out from graying skin. As far as he gets with his self destruction though, his body manages to get back to a healthier weight like he ate the amount he needs to thrive. Death doesn’t come for him as much as he tries. 

Shuhu’s curse allows him to consume but never be consumed.

You aren’t looking at the food just inches away from your lap. You’re silent – imagining the time death will come for him at long last. Normalcy is what you want. Death is what you want too, perhaps even for yourself. 

“I’m not hungry.”

At your words, Blade twirls some of the noodles with the bad chopsticks – he always gives you the good parts of everything; utensils, food, clothing, money – and proceeds to chew softly. It’s a motion he hasn’t used much before you came into the picture.

Now shared mealtimes are what he loves most. No matter how much you have eaten when he was not with you during the day, you’ll find yourself escorted to the short table that makes the distance between you two feel even shorter than its height.

“It’s good.” He puts another bite’s worth of vegetables, meat, and noodles in between the two chopsticks, presenting it to you. “See? You should try it.”

“What’s the point?”

The room goes quiet – the chopsticks are put on top of a napkin.

“What’s the point? As much as I listen and feast to your heart’s content… as much as you tell me we’ll go outside tomorrow… you don’t follow through.”

“I can’t yet.” Blade admits as he mimics your posture. He gazes into the bowl, looking like he is counting all the bits of spring onion you put into his bowl – the bits you didn’t want. You never liked spring onions. He can’t taste much anymore, but he’ll sacrifice if it means your body will never be hurting like he wants his own to be. “We will soon. I just… need you to be happy first.”

He means it. He’ll never lie to you – he just wants this relationship to feel as real as it can be until you can be trusted never to leave him like everyone else has.

“I’ll clean everything.” He looks to the window, where in the distance there is the very restaurant he set ablaze. “I took their recipes too.”

You don’t smile. He doesn’t either.

[vicariousresearcher]

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

the intro is boring as shit i know just power through

---------

Johnny who's just gotten released from the hospital with a half-ton bag of medications and months' worth of pre-scheduled appointments. Physiotherapy, speech therapy, occupational therapy, he didn’t even realize there were so many damn therapies that didn’t have to do with talking about feelings. 

He has one of those too, much to his discomfort. Even asking Price couldn’t get him out of that. 

Now he’s been freshly moved into his new flat. A nice place that his Ma picked out. A garage, basement, and even a fenced-in backyard.

  "Your discharge is paying for all of this, can you believe it?" His ma coos as they sit out on the back porch.

Johnny hummed in acknowledgment, peppermint wafting up out of his cup to almost tempt him to try and take a sip. It tasted like shit but there was no other tea in the house. 

“When's the nurse c-c…arriving?” Johnny asked, trying his best not to seem too eager. About as subtle as a bull in a china shop but his mother was never one to notice things like that. Mind already bouncing off to the next thing.

“Wednesday the text said I tink? Oh did you see the ramp that your friend Simon put into the garage, such a nice boy. Say do you reckon….."

…….. Maybe you were being impulsive but you accepted the position. You left your job at the hospital and moved towns over to be flatmates with a patient. But it was awfully hard to regret your decision when the pay was so good and you didn’t have to pay for boarding. And maybe there was some conniving part of you that wanted to spite your now ex after he cut things off claiming that you were cheating on him. 

So here you were with half your apartment in a storage unit and the other in the back of your car. Unpacking your clothes just after you finished a lengthy conversation with Johnny and Mrs. MacTavish. Or well, more so the latter. It’s kind of impressive how far that woman can go with a single question.

The whole time Johnny is just sitting there watching you. At first, it was weird because ‘dude youre the one who wanted me here can you not act like i’m an alien’ then you stop to consider that maybe he doesn’t even want you here. That this might be just another case of the family being overly attached with no regard for the patient's feelings. Part of you feels bad now at the idea of him being the one truly forced into this situation. 

Maybe this won’t be too bad of a job, you try to reason with yourself as your stomach twists in discomfort at the idea of living alone with a stranger. You can’t be too different from Johnny since your favourite scent is in the candle on the coffee table. The niche reality TV show you're obsessed with is playing in the evening. And he must like peppermint tea too since it’s one of the few things in the pantry. 

…….

Johnny is doing everything possible to seem normal about his nurse. Who has to stay quiet as he watches you interact so perfectly with his mother because if he opens his mouth he will ask you to marry him.

He is sweating at the idea of having you within reach at all times, your attention only ever on him. No other call bells or charting or lunch breaks to keep you occupied.

Johnny who has picked up journaling at the recommendation of his therapist to try and organize his feelings and memories from the coma. It’s not even like he's trying to focus on you but when he tries to think back to the coma all he can remember is you. Your hands, your voice, your warmth.

Lists of everything you’ve ever told him to fill the pages. Your favourite shop that has such a good deal on hair conditioner, the spinning candle on your fifth birthday cake that made you scream, the butter chicken recipe you can never get right even with your friend hanging over your shoulder. 

Johnny who has to try his hardest to stay quiet when you tell him about your first time skiing because he knows the end of the story. He knows how you cried and your mother fell off the lift coming off because you told him. So many little snippets of yourself you’ve already exposed during the two years he was under your care thinking he wasn’t listening. 

But he was and oh he will use it in every way possible to lure you in. He sees how uncomfortable you are even just sitting on the same couch as him but that's okay! You just need some time. 

In the meantime, he will just keep lying. Saying that your favourite flower seeds were just on sale when you spotted them on the table. Shrugging when you ask if he is sure about you taking the room at the back of the house because you mentioned hating the sound of the road. Asking his mum to help him make some roasted garlic butter because suddenly he actually cares about that. (You mentioned it at least a dozen times after your neighbour gave you some.)

[shitpostingkats]

Not to be xehaqus posting on main but the amount of (misplaced) trust Eraqus puts in Xehanort makes me insane. What do you mean he watched his boyfriend murder someone before his eyes and cried alone in his room at night but still thought it alright to let that boy walk away from him and study ancient dark magics? To confront him about it, years later, only to have his face sliced open and still, still, even later welcome him back into his home like nothing's changed? To take a wounded, obviously traumatized kid off his hands and not even consider it might be a red flag? Even when your students approach you and go "hey your old beloved old man partner might be up to something?" the blinding confidence to go "No, that doesn't sound like him :/ " To, even after you are both dead, at vaguely eachother's hand, to reach out beyond death and still believe there's good in him?

Like, one can joke a lot about how Eraqus' bad taste in men is what doomed the narrative to its current path, but also, this is a character who watched someone he loved make bad choice after bad choice after bad choice and always thought he was going to suddenly start making good ones instead. And he did this for sixty years. What if I threw up.

[thezombieprostitute]

Barista Steve - Part 4

Summary: Finals have you super stressed out. Steve knows how to help with that.

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: Bad parents, Dom/Sub dynamics, Smut. Please let me know if I missed any!

You were dealing with the big F's: Finals, Family and Fear of Failure. Your parents wouldn't stop reminding you of the importance of passing your exams. Your classes were incredibly difficult. And you didn't want to think about what would happen if you didn't pass one of your finals.

As you leave your latest study group, you see Steve waiting for you by his motorcycle. You're practically running to hug him, finding solace in his scent, his touch, his comforting words.

Steve has been frustrated by your situation as well. He knows you're not getting real support from your family. Well, not the kind of support that actually helps. More the kind of support that only makes things worse. He's doubtful of your defense of "they mean well". He's seen the effects of the stress and while he's worked hard to help mitigate them, there's only so much he can do.

The one big light at the end of the tunnel for both of you was your agreement to move in together as soon as you got your degree. Neither of you cared that your parents wouldn't approve of Steve, you both knew there'd be no one else for either of you. You took care of each other, supported each other, and you were tired of keeping him a dirty secret.

Besides, your parents had told you time and time again they wouldn't support you forever. Part of you knows you should've moved out sooner, but it was a truth you couldn't realize until you got a taste of what you really wanted. Steve definitely provided that. You'd be forever grateful to him for his patience.

"Hey there, Good Girl," Steve coos into your ear. "I figured you could use a break. A chance to shut down your brain."

"That sounds perfect, Sir," you agree. "Need to let my brain relax."

"Then let's put your choker on and get your helmet."

Steve didn't take you to the studio like you thought he would. Instead he parked the motorcycle outside of one of your favorite diners. The constriction of the choker reminds you that he's in charge, you're not to question his commands, but you can't hide the look of confusion on your face.

He sees your face and puts his hand on the back of your neck, "I need to take care of my Good Girl and I know you haven't been eating well lately. So we're going to get you food, water. And remember, I'll order for you so you don't have to waste brain power."

"Thank you, Sir," you happily sigh. You've been subsisting on granola bars and coffee lately. Your stomach rumbles at the thought of real food.

Steve orders you both moderately sized meals. He knows you need to eat but too much food could hurt you just as much as the too little you've had lately. He also makes sure you both drink water. He doesn't want to be unfair and order something for himself that you can't or shouldn't eat and he knows you need to hydrate. Especially after you start drinking your water and it's gone in a blink!

After the meal you're starting to feel sleepy. Steve kisses your forehead and says he's taking you to his place. Again, you're confused that you're not going to the studio but you don't question. You just enjoy holding onto him while riding his motorcycle. Breathing in his scent, feeling his muscled torso underneath your arms. The cold wind doesn't bother you much because he's just so warm.

Steve walks you up to his apartment. You hope it'll be both of yours soon. He directs you inside and tells you to wait for him in the bedroom. You don't need to be told twice.

Once inside the bedroom, you drop to your knees and let your arms relax as you wait for his orders. It's taken a lot of time and effort but you've learned how to shut down the part of your brain that feels bad for "sitting around doing nothing". Wearing the choker, feeling it every time you breath, is a good reminder and a good focus to keep you from fidgeting and thinking about what's next.

Steve walks in wearing nothing but a pair of low hanging grey sweatpants. You fight the urge to moan at the view of his tattooed, muscly torso while your pussy clenches. He steps in front of you. "Undress," he orders.

You stand as you hurry to obey. When you're fully naked you successfully fight the urge to try to cover yourself with your arms. You never have to feel ashamed in front of Steve. He's told you time and time again how much he loves seeing all of you. He's shown you as well.

"Good Girl," he purrs. He brings out a skimpy but soft looking nightgown. "Arms up."

You raise your arms and he puts the nightgown on you. It fits perfectly, like you knew it would. Steve always seems to know what feels comfortable for you. Knows what you need and how you need it. It's why you trust him enough to shut your brain down around him.

He caresses your cheek, eyes full of love, before pulling back the blankets on the bed. "Now lay down on your side for some cuddles."

You practically leap onto the bed in eagerness. Cuddles with Steve are always so restful and generally lead to more. A part of you is worried that you're going to fall asleep, but you quiet that down. You're following Sir's orders, being his Good Girl. He knows what he's doing.

Steve gets into the bed and holds you from behind. You've never felt so safe and warm as you do in these moments. He gently caresses you, giving you occasional kisses to the top of your head. Your eyelids are getting so heavy. He whispers, "go ahead and sleep, Good Girl. Pretty sure you need it. I'll hold you the entire time."

He says more but your brain doesn't processes anything other than that he's talking, it just drifts off to sleep.

You're not sure how long you slept for, but every part of you knows you needed that sleep. True to his word, Steve is still holding you and you smile in appreciation, small tears forming in the corner of your eye. You feel Steve stir and he squeezes you tight.

"Did you sleep well?" He yawns and kisses the top of your head.

"Yes, Sir."

"Glad to hear it," he mumbles as he continues to kiss you. You can feel his erection against your ass and fight the urge to roll your hips against him. "My Good Girl needed some rest, didn't she?"

"Yes, Sir," you rasp. Your need is building. He can definitely hear it in your voice because he softly chuckles against your skin.

"I think my Good Girl needs something else now," he purrs into your ear, sending electricity straight to your core.

He moves his hand down your body and reaches underneath the nightgown. You understand now why it was so skimpy; not only did it show off plenty of skin, but it gave him ready access to everything. He starts rubbing his fingers along you folds as he nibbles gently on your shoulder, making you whimper.

"I'm going to get on my back and you're going to sit on my face," he tells you. "No hovering."

"Yes, Sir," you whimper, both excited and nervous. Steve had a tendency to get lost in the taste of your pussy, making you overstimulated.

Before he lets you go he whispers, "what's your safe word?" You tell him and he thanks you before rolling onto his back.

You're quick to move into position, but you still let yourself enjoy the sight of Steve's body, his erection making a prominent tent in his sweatpants. As you're settling onto his face, Steve is already pinning you to him and devouring you. His strong hands hold you in place as he uses his tongue to reach all of your favorite spots. They're some of his favorite, too, because of the sounds the elicit from you.

The headboard is the only thing you can grasp and you do so with all your might as the first orgasm of many hits you hard and you cry out from pleasure. A small part of your brain realizes how much you've been needing this as it feels like everything in your system is finally unclenching from all your stress. It's only been a minute or so and your limbs are already feeling like jelly.

After the second orgasm, you're already crying from relief and pleasure. You repeatedly rasp, "thank you, Sir," not knowing if Steve can actually hear it or not. You try to roll your hips, a silent plea for him not to stop. He responds with a squeeze to your hips, an acknowledgement of your request as he adjusts just enough to reach that one spot he knows drives you crazy. He smiles as you cry out from the sensation and ride his face like your life depended on it. He keeps going until you cum on his face a third time.

He slows to a stop as your body goes lax, tears flowing freely down your face. He gently maneuvers you so that you're beside him, still repeating your mantra of "thank you, Sir". He looks you over but doesn't pick up on anything worrisome. "How's my Good Girl doing?"

"Thank you, Sir," you whimper. "Thank you for taking care of me."

He kisses along your cheeks where your tears are falling. "Such a Good Girl. But we're not done yet. Lay on your stomach."

As soon as you turn, Steve spreads your legs. "Such a pretty pussy," he groans. He kneads your ass cheeks for a bit before kissing up along your spine until he's covering you like a weighted blanket. He wraps one of his arms around so that he's got a hold on your throat. He kisses you once again before he roughly pushes his cock into you.

"Best pussy I've ever felt," he tells you as he starts up a brutal pace that has you keening. "Taking my cock like the good girl you are," he praises. "Taking everything I give you and begging for more."

"S--S--Sir," you croak.

"Cum for me," he orders. Your body automatically obeys. "That's my Good Girl," he groans as your pussy squeezes him tight. "Fucking you brain dead feels so good." You moan in response to his words. "You like being fucked like this? You like when my cock makes you dumb?"

"Y--Yes, Sir!"

He licks along the back of your neck, making you squeal. "I need one more from you." He readjusts you so you're slightly on your knees, making his cock feel so much deeper. He resumes the brutal pace and you start to see stars from the pleasure. "Cum for me, Good Girl."

Your body obliges and you cum with a lewd sob. He's quick to follow with a few grunts before he lets go of your throat and starts giving you small kisses along your back.

He pulls out of you with a soft hiss and immediately goes into aftercare mode. He removes your choker, cleans you up, and gives you reassurances as he holds you.

Finals are done. You've officially completed your degree. You opt to not go to the graduation ceremony, too many people. You've moved in with Steve, much to your parents' disbelief and outrage. They called you a lot of not very nice things that only reaffirmed your choice to get away from them.

One of Steve's friends at his art studio actually got you connected with a well paying job near the apartment. You were happy to finally be contributing financially. More importantly, Steve didn't object to you having your own bank account. Steve never wanted you to feel you had to be with him because of finances. He wanted you to have agency. It was something you'd probably spend forever getting used to.

Thankfully, Steve had the patience to help you out.

Okay, so this series is done, right? Barista Steve won't continue to bug me, right?!

Edit: Part 3/Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @ronearoundblindly

[kairukitsuneo]

Thank you for the information of bring the light of what's happening in the other side of the "callout" post. Kagebros has been harassed and suffered mental issue because of the callout post. While I understand the callout poster has good intention to inform others (because they believed selling traced art is bad), but it should have been resolve by a private message and realised that Kagebros was unaware it's bad to trace from official stuff too and it was never their intention to scam people. Now they had learned their lesson and never trace again. Regarding the alleged AI artist in the post claims, I found only proof of them proudly showcase the AI zine they have made with AI that was in 2022 (two years ago), I'm not sure if they ever changed their way this year or not, but it left a bad taste in me for knowing someone enjoying using AI even if they only feeding their own arts. AI generated art is still a plagiarism copy machine to steal from all artist regardless how you use it. Plus they are contributing to burning our nature faster than the nature can self-repair themselves.

================== With that said, here is something to learn from for all of us here:

I wish everyone's first attempt to a problem is a private message to sort things out and understanding why someone have done something you can't accept. Instead of letting your bias and assumption take over to make yourself feel righteous.

It's NEVER acceptable to make a callout post without prior proof or understanding both side of the situation. At least give the others a chance to right their wrongs and make up for it after they realising their mistake. To my believes, Callout post are only for warning the society of dangerous individuals like murderer/ escaped convict / rapist / groomers (provided proof of their crimes). Making callout post for trivia things like who to block, who done bad behaviors, who done tracing is still very childish to me. Because callout post usually it's made public, we can't control how people react and do about it. It's upsetting to see people would rather harrass and doxx the offender in the callout post. Even if they are deemed evil and hateful to me. They are still Humans, a sentient being with real feelings and thoughts. We are nothing worse than them if we did the same thing to hurt them. That's why we have to be very careful to make callout post! If you wanted to callout someone for their bad behavior, just inform your group of friends and let them spread the words to their group of friends. But knowing you can't control how your friends react and decided whether to continue interacting with this person. Everyone has the right to choose what they deemed right and nicer. Please I beg of you all to ⚠️⚠️⚠️ALWAYS Always remember callout post is only for informing potential dangerous people.❗❗❗❗❗ AND ALSO Anyone who read the callout post, just MOVE ON and BLOCK the person if you deemed the offender in the callout is unforgiving evil to you. It's best to not interact with things that's uncomfortable to you and Move ON with your life. ❗❗❗DO NOT attempt to HARRASS and DOXX the person!!❗❗❗ You never know if the person's house you sent a S.W.A.T to have any innocent family members. The blood is on you if something like that happens instead to the person you hate. Therefore, it's not okay to DOXX people even if they claimed to be the worst person you ever met. Finally I urge everyone to think critically and never only trust one side of the coin without getting as much proof and full knowledge view on the situation.

Thank you for reading🙏🙏

This Post is by someone that wants to remain anonymous, they DM'd me this and asked me to post

The callout campaign against Kagebros has gone WAY too far. The lengths these people have gone to violate someone’s boundaries and privacy in order to “warn” people is incredibly excessive and is dealing horrible damage to their mental health and wellbeing. It needs to fucking stop.

The situation has spiraled completely out of control, spurred on by people who would rather side with a proud AI artist than have a civilized, adult discussion about tracing. Said AI artist has a history of attempting to ruin Kagebros’ credibility, spreading disinformation and rumors about them and their nonprofit charity zines, now going as far as to allegedly incite people to nonconsensually take photos of them at their booth at TFcon Baltimore, and block-evading their socials in order to find more posts to pick apart.

As they have stated already, Kagebros never had ANY intention to scam people, which understandably doesn’t change how those affected may feel. That being said, they could have very easily traced over things without altering them in any way at all, like many others within the convention vending sphere have blatantly done without a callout from these same people who care so much about “calling out tracing”. There tends to be a gray area in the realm of tracing techniques within the art industry (especially professionally), and there is plenty of merit for their actions to be criticized. As they’ve stated, they were under the impression that Official artwork/figures were okay to trace over and alter, which they now know to avoid doing so in the future. Even if the details and credibility of the piece can be scrutinized, they still made a conscious effort to alter the pieces in question to be more original.

Although said effort may not be enough for most, they now KNOW that. End of story. They can't immediately change the pieces they had available for sale, and they should be showing change through their future pieces and actions, which is something that’s up for judgment by anyone. And yet the people starting this have needlessly dragged it on, inciting others to keep spreading the accusations to further audiences, leading to more harassment.

Seafoamsol had admittedly unblocked Kagebros and “offered” to have a talk with them about the situation, but their own intentions are extremely questionable, as a conversation should have been the first priority, rather than a callout post. They assumed Kagebros’ intentions without giving them a single chance to address it themselves before the callout, and are now going forward with the narrative of them being a scammer.

Again, if they truly were concerned, they could have unblocked them and had a conversation before the callout was made, instead of assuming their intentions were to deceive people.

The situation is very nuanced, meaning there's a lot of points to be acknowledged on both sides in order to come to a conclusion, which could have happened peacefully if adults just had a civil discussion with each other. There is a justifiable talk to be had here, and reasonable changes to be made, but this can’t be accomplished productively if people continue to jump to conclusions and assume intentions. This has done nothing–and WILL do nothing–but hurt people, if this behavior doesn’t stop. mistakes will be made, lessons will be learned. Please look at this situation in its entirety before coming to your own conclusions based on assumptions made by people with evidently questionable motives and a history of causing problems for others and driving them out of the community. 

Thank you for reading.

[fanofstuff01]

So here’s the King of Purgatory AU @beef-brisket. @things-arent-what-they-seem66 Helped me with this one.

Adam looks like Beetlejuice in this lol

Adam dies on Earth and ends up in an almost completely grey place -Only his body outside of his gray skin and some plants still have colors- similar to Earth. It’s like an imitation of that place, only devoid of all the joy or pain you can get from it, completely neutral and bland. He’s also still a human as he guesses, only now he’s.. Not exactly solid. He can touch things, but he doesn’t feel anything from them or around him. And he’s floating all the time if he’s not making an effort to step on the ground.

He doesn’t understand where he is or why he is there at first, that is until Sera eventually shows up after he spent about 7 years there. He’s excited as he thinks he’s finally going to be out of this place he doesn’t even know what is, and finally get to see his wife and kids again maybe, but that’s not exactly the case.

Sera tells him that the place he ended up on is Purgatory, a small dimension they JUST learned the existence of that managed to get in between Heaven and Hell like some sort of a waiting room.

And the reason why he was there is because his soul is completely divided in between being good and being bad. He’s too pure for Hell but too corrupted for Heaven so he’s stuck there as a ghost. (If you know the Asphodel Meadows from Greek mythology it’s like that)

Adam begs her to let him come to Heaven but she refuses all the way. They can’t just let a soul like him go and live with the winners. Then she leaves after warning Adam of other souls possibly coming too since he can’t be the only one completely divided among humans.

So Adam stays there alone until some souls start to show up after one point. He's not sure how much time has passed so it's just an assumption but it's about 30 years after since he died did some start to come there. The people coming there are just like him, they can't feel anything (physically that is), taste anything and they slowly lose all their colors.

At one point Adam declares himself as the King of the place but it's mostly just symbolic and because he's the only one that is allowed to talk with the angels (They have an embassy on their own that is being protected by Heaven) whenever they come to check the numbers. Though over time he does gain some power over time because he figures out that soul contracts are a thing and gains some of them. (He's the only person that can do it in solid numbers because other souls simply have nothing to offer to others but he does as they get to keep their colors at least. Souls there are that desperate to have something new you'd be surprised how many people give themselves to him completely just so they can have this at last.)

Purgatory isn't like Hell or Heaven, there isn't a ton of ghost population there as it gets like five times less souls per ten years. And also because souls in Purgatory can fall and rise to heaven given what they do there even though it takes a fairly long time, like they are given a second chance at life -For this reason Purgatory is completely divided of people trying to get to Heaven and Hell, there's a decent bit of chaos there-

Well except for only one of them.

Adam.

Even Adam himself nor do the higher up angels know why he's stuck there no matter what he does. He's simply not allowed to leave Purgatory permanently no matter how much or what he desires, begs and does purposefully to get out of there.

But there's a reason why I said permanently.

Over time -it takes a long time-, Adam slowly finds out that he can open portals to a specific spot in Hell -Heaven is way too protected from the outsiders compared to Hell so he can't to there- and be there for about a week before he has to go back to his "home", completely invisible to the people there and unable to interact with them unless he tries really hard.

That specific spot is the Morningstar Manor obviously. He's like an actual ghost haunting there lol.

And, it takes him even longer to figure this one out, but once every 100 years, he has enough power to be in Hell and be around people just fine for a day. (And if someone there says his name three times, he can stick there longer, even as a sentient being, but it needs to be "refreshed" once every year. Yes Beetlejuice.)

Over time, Adam went kind of insane. Lost all hope about himself and his ability of going anywhere, but unlike Lucifer, he is mostly just having fun the entire time not caring the slightest about what happens to what.

What's the point of caring anyway, when it doesn't even have consequences? The ghostly folks will respawn just fine. The plants will regrow just fine. His body will return to normal after just fine.

He's mainly like Alastor but with even more insanity and with the power of at least a sin. He basically has everyone there by default. If souls there were worthy like sinners' are he'd be more powerful than the Morningstar family.

Speaking of them, they're the only people left that he hates almost religiously. Maybe not so much the kid, he's basically watched her grow from afar, but definitely Lilith and Lucifer, he blames them for the entire thing of himself as you'd expect. His hatred for them is the only thing keeping him from going completely off rails ironically.

Well he does dream of fucking Lucifer to his bed and then bashing his skull but that's not our point

-

During one of his days spent in Hell, he sees the daughter of Lucifer on TV promoting a stupid hotel, so he decides to go help her. He likes and is familiar with aimless, stupid and doomed to fail projects, he had one himself a long, long time.

-

WHEW- This was a long one lol. Hope you liked it!

[ovaryacted]

─ Javier Peña x fem! reader || WC: 693

CW: MDNI/18+. Slightly NSFW. Post DEA/Retired! Javier Peña. Javi & reader are married. Setting is at some family celebration idk lmao. Sexual innuendos. Sexual tension & teasing. Sex flashbacks and daydreaming. They are down bad for one another.

This has been in my drafts for a couple of days, figured I'd just share it now instead of letting it dust away in the notes lolz. Javi deserves some love from me, I miss him. This is also me writing after a couple of days of sadness so be nice pleak!

You’ve been through it all with the one and only Javier Peña. All the stressors and toxicity of his government job leaving Colombia, the nightmares, the self-loathing. Being and growing with him took time, and learning him as a human being taught you the patience you never thought you’d gain. He was an enigma you had to figure out, and miraculously, when he realized you were the puzzle piece he’d been missing all along, everything else followed through. After a few years together and an exchange of vows, things in your life have been more abundant than you thought possible, and now you’ve both reaped the benefits of going through those trials and tribulations together.

Sitting on his left side, the sounds of the banquet hall tuned out as you merely stared at your husband in awe. Dressed in a suit and his hair slicked back, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander as you admired him from afar. The invitation to a family celebration landed in your mail a few weeks ago, something a bit more formal for your taste, but neither of you could turn it down, nor did you want to.

You especially weren’t complaining when you saw how Javi dressed for the event, donning a black blazer, crisp white button-down, sleek black slacks, and dark leather shoes. He even changed his hairstyle, brushing his hair back after getting a haircut and his jaw clear of facial hair after his close shave. When he kissed you on the cheek as you did your makeup, you could still smell the aftershave he used and his musky cologne, overwhelming your senses in the best way. 

Your mind drifted as you daydreamed about his hands and how he used them. His plush lips, the way they caress you, map you out without having to ask. That mouth of his that spews the most diabolical and erotic things as he pleases you with no end in sight, the thought alone heated your cheeks and sent an electric pulse through your body.

You didn’t realize you were fidgeting in your seat until a hand grasped your thigh. Blinking and looking down to spot Javi’s left hand covering the length of your upper leg, he offered an affectionate squeeze, the golden wedding band on his ring finger gleaming under the hall’s light.

“What are you thinking up there, cariño?” He asked you, brown eyes reverently taking in your face as his thumb stroked your leg.

“Nothing much. Promise.” You couldn’t even look him straight in the eye, noticing how he leaned forward to whisper in your ear.

“Mentirosa,” he muttered with a smirk, the dimples you loved making an appearance as he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip.

“If you stay on your best behavior for the rest of the night, I’ll give you something sweet when we get home. Deal?”

It was a proposition you couldn’t ignore. You knew what to expect, and the shiver rolling down your spine gave enough leeway that you understood the intent of his message.

“Deal,” you replied confidently, accepting the kiss he placed on your lips, a momentary tease of what the rest of the night would entail.

“Good. I don’t want everybody in here to know how dirty-minded my wife is.” You chuckled, glancing at him with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“That’s all you, baby. Don’t get it twisted.”

“Touché. But can you blame me? Not when you look this good in black.” He squeezed your thigh a bit harder this time, making his possession known the way you liked. “You aren’t the only one daydreaming right now, but a couple more hours, and we’ll make it a reality.”

You mimicked his grin, placing your left hand over his to clasp around his fingers. He instinctively took your hand, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles and grazing over the diamond ring that sat prettily on your finger. As you both talked to other relatives to pass the time, you kept his offer in the back of your mind, remembering to ticket it in once you’re away from prying eyes and in the comforts of your home.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[aychama]

As much as cult of the lamb is about overthrowing cruel rulers (the bishops), it’s also about letting you be just as cruel to your followers as they were to theirs e.g. murder, sacrifice, letting them starve/stay sick, cannibalism, sacrifice for gold, desecrate their bodies for meat, force them to eat poop/things that have a chance to make them sick or just straight kill them, extort them, unjust imprisonment if they wanted to, the moon necklace depending on how think it functions. There is a lot of bad things you can do as the lamb. And I guess my question is, is there any reason to believe that Lambert will be any better than the Kings once they are in power?

I love the story you’re making but it fills me with a dread that the end of the story is going to be some Shakespearean tragedy where everyone is either dead or miserable and the lambs going to look back and realize they’ve become no better than the tyrants they overthrew.

Yes this is very true for the game. Having godly power over others lives really does change one. Im not gonna lie as much as I love the game, the fact that we became just like the bishops does leave a bad taste in my mouth.

I will make my story a sad tragic one with heartbreak, betreyal and overall murderous but I still want it to have a (somewhat) good ending. I dont really want horrible actions and bloodshed to be the main focus of it because this au is purely for shipping purposes, the plot came after that and it is still changing and morphing as Im continuing with the story.

Im not an experienced storyteller so there might be some plot holes, out of character moments or me straight-up forgetting stuff from the original game so I hope you guys can bear with me on that lol

Me just want King and Knight to kissy kissy

BUTT!! I will still try to do my best or at the very least try to show you guys the visions I have for this story.

[sammyvhs]

home : 1.09 pt1 — jess’s sister.

You’re not stupid. At least you hope not. You pray you’re not. You knock on their motel door a little less sure of the fact, maybe it’ll increase in confidence when you see them.

It doesn’t. The second your eyes lock with Sam’s half-asleep ones you’re positive your breath hitches just enough that your heart stops beating momentarily. His messy hair, his exhausted expression, the dark bags under his eyes even him still wearing jeans and a shirt.

“Hey, you came.” You nod and lean into the hug he pulls you in for. His cologne is palpable, the same one he used to wear in Stanford and it’s comforting for you to know he hasnt thrown the bottle away.

“I came.” You whisper, letting go and stepping inside when he moves to let you in. Dean’s on a bed, looks like he’s sleeping peacefully. You wish you could too but everytime you close your eyes your sister is on the ceiling. Sometimes she’s calling out for you to help. Other times she’s telling you that you’re the reason she’s gone. Your carelessness. You didn’t lock the doors. The windows, you were fast, you didn’t hear anything, you—

“You okay?” Sam pulls you away from the dark thoughts and you nod. “Okay well, Dean’s asleep and I don’t think we’ll talk much right now, you can catch a few hours.” you nod at the offer, thanking him quietly. You're still in jeans yourself but you don't mind since you're not sure you’ll be sleeping. 

“I’ll take the couch.” he stares at you like you just said bruised his ego then shakes his head. “Sam, im serious, i dont sleep—”

“Vampire?” he jokes half heartedly and you smile.

“I just mean i usually take power naps. Please, sam, just take the bed.” he ends up pulling you on it next to him and you’re not sure why for the first time in months you fall asleep with no nightmares.

Sam doesnt. Sam wakes up suddenly, forcing you out of your sleep, to a nightmare. You’re shuddering thinking of the fact that you felt that safe in your dead sister’s boyfriend’s arms.

You pretend you’re asleep until sam’s breath gets softer and peel yourself off the bed and to the couch. Theres not much to do at four in the morning so you read, you snoop around for a bit, wonder how much sam would hate you if you opened his bag, and eventually take another nap on the couch. 

Still no nightmare, you wake up to the sound of Dean’s boots tapping against on the floor. You quickly sit up a little, taking in your surroundings.

“‘Morning, sweetheart.” your lips apart, sure you're going to respond like a normal human with ‘good morning’ but it doesn’t come, you just nod. “Want coffee?” only then do you notice the two paper cups in his hand.

“Sure, thanks, Dean.”

“Didn’t know what you liked so i got it cream and sugar.”

“It’s good, that’s how i usually take it.” totally not true, you actually take it with milk but you’re not sure you’re staying long enough for him to have to know that. He smiles at you, taking a seat next to you on the couch. “I’m sorry for showing up so suddenly, Dean.” you mumble before trying the coffee. It’s not bad, not your usual taste but definitely still enjoyable.

“‘S no problem, you’re always welcome with us, i gave you my number so you could call me at anytime.” you can’t be held responsible for any of the fluttery feelings in your stomach after that. 

“I guess… i felt like i was slipping, you know? My parents— me and jess never talked to them and they didn’t even call me when she died, i literally had no one, as pathetic as it sounds. Our dad’s side hates us, my mum’s side is on the opposite side of the world and they’ve been calling me but it’s not the same. Its not fair to do this to you two but i dont now what else to do, i just wish someone would tell me.” you're not certain when the first tear started flowing but your thankful its the only one.

“Hey, we’re here for you. Always.” Somehow, you don’t believe it.