#if they see an opening they'll be more than willing to throw it all away on the off chance you're dtf

[she-who-vatches]

women wear make up because being attractive buys them a lot of social capital. men will try to fuck you either way, but when you don't cater to the male gaze they assume you have low self esteem and will tolerate anything. when you perform femininity, they pretend to be so fascinated by you and listen to what you have to say.

most of us know by now they're only pretending to be nice, but we'll settle for that over being disregarded entirely. that's what women mean when they say they wear makeup for themselves.

[rainrot4me]

Behind The Veils

Summary: Hiking to capture the perfect sunrise photo for your portfolio, you stumble upon a supposedly abandoned cabin, your curiosity driving you to investigate. When you're met with two very large and very aggressive masked men, they decide that they'll put you to good use.

Characters: Masky & Hoodie x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Bondage, gagging, choking, throat fucking, restraint, teasing, dominance, threesome, vaginal, anal, eating out, cumming on face, threatening, chasing, bargaining, mentions of guns, ropes

Words: 6.1k

You would do anything for a good shot. Trespassing included.

Working on your portfolio for school was proving to be more physically demanding than you anticipated, but if it meant you got in on a good scholarship, you were willing to break a few laws.

Your heart raced as you pushed down the barbed wire fence and swung a leg over. These woods were off-limits as deemed by the state, but you knew of a beautiful mountainscape that would make for a perfect sunrise picture. And, considering how your portfolio was currently looking, you needed this shot. Glancing at the “Private Property, Do Not Enter” sign one last time, you swung your other leg over and pulled your backpack back onto your shoulders. 

You filled your large pack with enough stuff to last you a day. A sleeping bag, a one-person tent, a fire starter, and all the other junk you could think of. It was late afternoon now, and you planned on setting up camp closer to the lookout and hiking the rest before sunrise. It would be a couple of miles, but you were willing and excited. Photography was your life and passion, and you planned on following it through no matter the challenge (or legality). 

Pushing away from the barbed fence, you trekked through the dense forest, with no clear path in sight. You pulled out your phone and found your map, searching for an easier way to the scenic lookout, but finding no angle except the one you were taking now. You groaned, shoving your phone back in your back and continuing on. It wasn’t all that bad though. The weather was warm, a breeze blowing through the dense trees and cooling you off. The late summer afternoon had animals and bugs buzzing, creating a nice scenery to walk through. You wouldn’t only get a good picture, but a nice hike in as well.

But as the day passed and the sun stooped lower into the horizon, the woods were becoming less and less inviting. The animals had gone quiet now, with no chirping or singing of birds in the trees. The only noise was the low humming of insects in the grass, an ominous feeling creeping on you the darker it got. You knew it was only your mind tricking you, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching you. Only about two miles out from the lookout now, and this felt like a good place to set up camp. 

Hurriedly, you unpacked your bag, popped up your tent, and rolled your sleeping bag out. The sky was dark with the colors of the sunset, but it provided just enough illumination to gather fallen branches and make a small fire stack. You crouched down, tossing some brush and leaves into the pile and striking the fire starter, creating a spark that flamed into a small fire. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to heat your bowl of food and provide you warmth against the cooler night air. Still so strangely quiet, the forest was dark, unable to see past the glow of your fire. You tried not to psych yourself out, but you gripped your pocket knife close, fiddling with the blade anxiously. You knew there were no people out here. At least none besides brave teenagers who dared each other to throw parties out here. Your main concern was a bobcat or some wild animal running up on you, but you thought scaring anything off wouldn’t be too difficult.

You breathed deep, trying to calm your nerves against your racing mind. Deciding you were tired enough, you zipped open the small tent and wrapped it up in your sleeping bag, closing the tent back and nestling it. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and grasshoppers in the grass, but your brain was still on high alert, listening closely. But when nothing came, your eyes eventually fluttered close and you slipped into sleep. 

-

Morning eventually came, and you were pleasantly surprised with how little you stirred during the night. Unzipping the tent, the cool morning air rolled in, pulling you awake. The forest was covered in a dense wave of fog, the sun still low on the horizon and just barely peeking up against the horizon. Jumping up, you quickly packed your things and shuffled your backpack on. But when you went to stomp out your smoldering fire, something in the dirt nearby caught your attention. Peering closer, your heart sunk, fear rising in your throat. In the damp dirt, a very large bootprint was sunk into the ground. As you looked, you found more following closer to your tent. You began to silently panic, swinging your head around to look through the trees, but sighing when you saw nothing. Your heart still raced with the knowledge that someone had been walking around near your camp making you sick. 

Stomping out the rest of the fire, you scurried away back onto your path, walking a little faster than you were before. As you walked, you tried to convince yourself that maybe you were tricking yourself. Maybe it was your boot print that you accidentally left, or someone that had hiked there before and it was just their leftover tailmarks. But you knew that boot was easily four sizes bigger than your own, and that boot print looked way too fresh. Shivering, you continued your trek but kept a close eye out, jumping at any slight movements.

Eventually, you crept up the mountainside, breathing heavily as you raced against the sunrise to the rocky overlook. The fog had settled, a thin haze of mist against the grass all that remained. Gripping onto trees, you pushed up the hill, the lookout coming into view. You sighed heavily, tugging yourself up the rocks and eventually reaching the top, breathing heavily. But as you caught your breath, you tossed your backpack off and rummaged through for your camera and the stand. The sun was just barely peeking up, offering a nice pink haze across the entire scene. Your excitement bubbled as you found your supplies and began to set up at the edge of the rocks.

High up on the mountain, you could see the stretch of the forest, the trees looking even more dense from up high. It was stunning as the sun reflected off of the morning dew. The mountain range in the distance complemented the horizon beautifully, the sun shining right between the peaks. Clasping your camera onto the tripod, you turned it on and angled it, catching the expanse of the forest in the lens. You smiled wide, snapping dozens of pictures before repositioning and capturing more. You would go through them all later, editing and angling them just perfect for your portfolio. This scene just screams adventure, solitude, and daring. It was perfect. 

As you finished taking pictures, you noticed a gap in the treeline further up the mountain, another great angle of the mountain range. Grabbing your stuff, you hauled further up, clicking through the photos you had already taken as you walked. These were exactly what you needed, but you wouldn’t mind snapping a few more from a different angle just in case.

Pushing through the brush of the mountain, you finally reached the higher peak, already throwing your stuff down to set up again. But as you set your tripod up, something in the trees caught the corner of your eye. Turning, you could barely make out the cabin hidden amongst the large trees. Peeking, your brows knitted, unsure of why there was a cabin out here in the first place. Turning back, you quickly snapped a few pictures before packing your stuff back up, the sun well above the mountains now. 

Pushing deeper into the trees, you studied the cabin, the small lodge otherwise invisible from outside the forest. The thick leaves and foliage disguised it, making it all the more ominous. Maybe it was a hunting cabin used during the winter or some old abandoned home before the state closed this forest off. You knew you should’ve been more cautious, but as the sun peeked through the trees and cast a warm glow against the dark wood, all you could think of was how good it would look in a photo.

Pressing closer, you hugged against the trees, trying to see the best angle for a picture. The cabin was older, with weathering and vines decorating the exterior. But it was charming, in a creepy kind of way. As you rounded to the side of the cabin only a couple of yards away, you lifted your camera and shot a couple of pictures, admiring the mist radiating around the lodge in the early sunlight. You trudged around to the back, lifting your camera again but stopping quickly. At first, you thought it was just the sunlight shining through one of the windows. But as you looked closer, you could see a small lamp turned on inside of the dusty window.

Your heart stopped, a cold shiver shooting up your spine. There was no way someone was out here. Especially not inside that decrepit old thing. You knew you should’ve high-tailed it out of there, packing up your stuff and shooting back down the mountain. But you being your daring self, you pressed closer to the small porch of the cabin, trying your best to peek inside the fogged window. When you eventually got so close your feet knocked the steps of the porch, you stepped up, sliding to the window. 

Cobwebs decorated the porch, and large vines and patches of weathering surrounded the wooden door. You couldn’t see very well through the window, but as you crouched against the cabin and peered inside, you were shocked to see nothing. There were no signs of life inside besides the small lamp, somehow powered on in the middle of nowhere. How it was getting electricity, you were too dumb to figure out. 

You stood slowly, trying your best to see further than the lamp through the fogginess of the glass. Maybe it was just left on accidentally? You hoped so. But who would come all the way out here? After deducing that the place truly was abandoned, you set your bag on the porch and lifted your camera. Even though scary, the closeness would make for a good picture. Angling, you captured the lamp framed by the foggy window. However, when the flash of the camera went off, a sudden thud echoed inside the lodge. Your heart dropped, white fear shooting through as you backed against the railing of the porch. Shit. Shit. Shit. The sudden loud thuds of boots sounded inside, your body scrambling quickly to grab your bag and run, but it was already too late.

The door slammed open in your face, knocking you back on your ass down the steps and onto the grass below. You didn’t even look up, turning quickly to dig your feet into the ground and sprint. You held your camera close to your chest, panting heavily as you dodged through the trees. You had no idea who was in that cabin, but you weren't going to stick around and find out. If they were crazy enough to live out here then they were crazy enough to hurt you, and fuck that. Nudging through the brush, you pressed through the trees, heaving desperately for air as your legs burned with fear. As soon as you felt like you had gained a good distance away, it all ended. You felt your head stop before the rest of your body, your limbs shooting forward before you were slammed down to the ground with a loud thud. Your head pounded, a large hand pressing your face down into the ground and giving you a terrible impact headache. You’d be lucky if you didn’t have bruises from how hard your body stopped. 

Groaning sharply, you squinted your eyes, your vision partially blinded by the thick fingers pressing down against your face. Your body panicked, writing under the weight as the body on top of you pressed down harder, restricting your movements. You wanted to scream, but your head was pounding too hard to speak, let alone scream. Clawing at the hand on your face, you whined, desperate to move as fear ran through you. 

“Quit fighting.” A gruff voice groaned in front of your face, pressing your head down harder into the grass. You tried to see him, your head pressed to the side so all you saw was the dirt and grass beneath you. Until you heard those boots thudding beside your head again, echoing against the forest floor. When they came into your vision, you panicked, the thick black soles blocking your vision. The figure knelt, the other person holding you down angling your head up to get a clear shot of the man crouching beside your head. “Well, hello.” This voice was lighter, scratchier than the other but not as rough. They were both men though, and large enough to hold you down. 

The man in front of you was odd, something straight out of a movie. He wore a white mask decorated with a face, little holes cut in the eyes so you could see his dark eyes. He glared at you, his brown hair messed in front of his face. You were caught in confusion, your eyes flicking quickly against him as you tried to gather as much about his appearance as you could. The other man gripped your face tight, angling you to look at the sky as the two of them talked. 

“She’s a fast little fucker.” The lower voice growled, nails digging into your cheeks as you began to struggle again. “Hold her steady, don’t let her wiggle out.” The other one commanded, standing and shuffling away. You finally caught sight of the other one, a mustard hoodie pulled over his head, a dark ski mask painted with a red frowning face. Who the hell were these two? They looked like some emo band wannabes and it seriously was beginning to scare you. What in the world were they doing in the middle of nowhere dressed like that? The one with the hoodie was staring right at you, his face covered but his eyes roaming your body. “What the hell are you doing out here anyways?” He gruffed, snapping your camera out of your hands. You gasped, reaching for it but him holding it above your reach.

“I was- ah- taking pictures. Of the sunset. I- I’m a photographer.” You huffed, tears pricking at your eyes as he remained unamused. He ignored your response, looking to the other one who was now dragging your bag towards you two. Zipping your backpack open, they rummaged through your belongings, throwing your supplies out onto the ground carelessly. 

“Damn, so she was the camper out last night.” The lighter voice rang, tossing your sleeping bag onto the ground. Your heart sunk, tears finally spilling over your cheeks. So someone had come to your campsite last night. This was getting worse by the minute. 

“Shoulda just killed her then like I said.” The darker voice growled, throwing your extra pair of socks down too. You sobbed into his hand, your hands clawing against his hand as he refused to let up. The one in the white mask crouched again, staring you directly in the eyes. “Knock her out, bring her back to the cabin.” 

The last thing you saw before you blacked out was the hilt of a gun slamming down against your head, a sharp pain rining before everything went dark. 

-

You had no clue how much time had passed when you awoke, but the sun was low in the sky, the colors of the sunset already spilling against the horizon through the window. The inside of the cabin was warm, a low fire crackling in the fireplace across from you. You glanced around, the inside was just as shabby as the outside, but the furniture inside wasn’t half bad considering you were tied to a table chair. Thick ropes wrapped around your torso, securing you against the back of the chair as you struggled. Your head pounded, a sharp throbbing echoing from the spot the gun made contact with your head. When you fully came to, you heard the loud ring of arguing from somewhere down the hallway, the small cabin doing little to conceal their words.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Masky, that on our only fucking week off some bitch decides to get curious.” The one in the hoodie, you recognized his voice. There was loud stomping, one following the other as they came closer down the hallway. “I say we just kill her, Hoodie, but you always need to interrogate the little shits.” The masked one growled back, the both of them coming into view through your hazy vision. They both glared at you, closing the distance between you as you struggled against your restraints. You could barely breathe as they hovered over you, their intimidating presence making it hard to stay calm. “Ple- Please. I just, ah, got lost. Please.” You gritted, pressing your feet against the floor and pulling against the ropes, but they didn’t budge. Respectively, Masky and Hoodie, their names fitting, leaned closer, basically ignoring that you had even said anything. 

Masky slid away, grabbing your camera off the dining table and sliding it to Hoodie who turned it on. They flicked through the photos, you awkwardly staring as they studied each photo. “Seems like she was just taking photos,” Hoodie grumbled, handing the camera back to Masky as he glared back to you. “Ain’t half bad either.” You flicked your eyes hurriedly between the two, anxiety growing in your stomach as they silently examined your camera and you. There was no reading these guys, their every emotion concealed behind their stupid masks. Were they going to kill you? Over taking some pictures too close to their shitty cabin? What a way to die.

Masky tossed the camera down, you cringing as it scooted onto the table. “Looks like she wasn’t lying. Lucky you.” He grinned slyly, leaning against the table. They both had this bad habit of just looking at you and not speaking like they were communicating in their minds. It seriously freaked you out as you again tried to tug against your restraints. “Just let me go and I swear I won’t tell nobody. I- I’m just tryna take some photos.” You whined, shriveling in on yourself when they pressed closer again. They stood tall, looming above you and just stared. It was impossible not to just squirm under them, their eyes studying every inch of you. Their weird dynamic made you unsure, their personalities so different but complimenting each other perfectly.

Defeated, you hung your head, your head hurting too bad to plead anymore. But when you looked down, you noticed what they were looking at. Your face blushed, eyes widening as you shot your head back up at them. Your shirt was torn to pieces, your bra doing little to hide your tits through the shredded fabric. It must have happened when you were slammed to the ground, the thick underbrush tearing at your clothes before they dragged you back to the cabin. Your cheeks went dark, embarrassment creeping as you tried to hide yourself, but the ropes under your tits pushed them up further. When they noticed your embarrassment, you could hear them chuckle. “Embarrassed, huh? Sorry, Hoodie here isn’t very good about being polite while chasing someone.” He laughed, pressing close to your left, his gaze fitting on your tits. You squeezed your knees together, your stomach tight with embarrassment as Masky stared at you through the mask. 

“Yeah, not very sorry if it meant I got a view like this,” Hoodie grunted, shoving Masky’s shoulder as he pressed closer to your right, leaning his masked face down closer to yours. You glanced quickly between the two of them, unsure of what to do as you felt trapped between two wild animals. Anger ragged at you, your face growing hot. These creepy freaks were perverts too, great. You thrashed against the ropes, kicking your feet forward but Masky held your knees easily. Hoodie gripped your jaw in return, angling your face to look at him as they held you still. “But I’m still not opposed to shooting you.” Masky huffed, digging his nails into your skin. Hoodie laughed, turning your head in his hand to get a better look at you. You struggled slightly, pressing your face against his hand in retaliation. “Feisty.” He smiled. Hoodie’s playful provocations and Masky’s intense gaze made you acutely aware of the charged energy between the three of you.

Masky gripped your knees tight, pushing them down against the chair and sliding his hands to your crotch. He tried to rub his hand against your clothed cunt, but you resisted, wriggling your hips down against the chair. “Don’t be all bratty now. I’m sure Hoodie would love to break that little attitude.” Masky huffed, gripping your legs apart. You whined, Hoodie’s answering grip against your cheeks. You glanced between them, shutting your eyes before sighing. “If I let you… whatever. Are you still gonna kill me afterwards?” You whined, struggling against the ropes one final time. The men glanced between each other, then back to you.”Depends on how good you take us. We’re trying to enjoy our week off of work but you had to just run up on us, huh? You gotta earn your way out of this one.” Hoodie barked, fiddling with the zipper of his jeans when you noticed the slight bulge prodding through. Your cheeks grew dark again, your eyes shutting as you gritted your teeth. “Not my fault you’re squatting in the middle of nowhere.” The hooded man gripped your face tighter, tugging his pants down and letting his large cock spring free, the thick length bobbing in front of your head eagerly. “Then maybe don’t go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” Giving the length a few good pumps, he pressed his cock head against your mouth, tapping it against your lips before pulling your jaw down. You glared up at him before sliding your tongue out, flattening against the head. Hoodie’s playful dominance contrasted with Masky’s more forceful desire, their eagerness coaxing you. 

Hoodie grunted, holding your jaw open as he pressed the rest of his length in, your jaw unhinging to fit the sheer thickness of him. Your eyes slammed shut, throat constricting around him as you strangled to breathe. He huffed above you, fist tugging at your jaw as he forced you to begin bobbing on the length. You strained, tongue pressing against him as he fucked into your mouth haphazardly. This was rough, but his tight grunts and moans made your stomach flutter. Masky was quick to wrap his fist around your hair, gripping it tight and tugging your head in time with Hoodie’s thrusts. 

It was becoming difficult to breathe as Masky slid his free hand down in between your thighs and began to unzip your jeans, pressing his hand down underneath. His fingers found your clothed clit easily, rubbing harshly against the bud and waking it up. You grunted hard around Hoodie’s cock, breath catching and ragged as he refused to let up. His large hands were rough on your jaw, forcing it to stay open as his hips thrust into your throat. It was like Masky could read his movements, pulling your hair back or pushing your head forward to match his hips, making Hoodie grunt and moan loudly above you.

Tears pricked your eyes, the need to breathe becoming desperate, but you knew they didn’t care. Masky hands had abandoned your panties and were now under them, rubbing against your bare clit and making your hips jerk. “Ah- Damn. Bitch’s got a damn good mouth.” Hoodie growled, gritting his teeth. Masky just chuckled, sliding his thick fingers down your folds and pressing against your entrance, your stomach fluttering when he pressed the digits inside. You moaned loudly, slobber drooling out the corners of your mouth as Hoodie nestled his cock inside your mouth and refused to move. Your body strained against the ropes, hands gripping the chair as you begged for air, eyes wide and pleading with tears. Hoodie laughed, hands holding your head still and keeping you suffocating on him. Masky was gripping your hair in return, prodding his fingers deep inside of you and watching closely as you choked. 

“Come on now, don’t make the poor thing pass out.” Masky cooed, curling his fingers inside of you and making you gag hard, body straining to moan around the cock. Your head was light, the lack of air getting to you as you choked, eyes growing heavy. Hoodie huffed before he popped out of your mouth, a thick string of slobber still connecting his head to your lips. Pressing your cheeks together, the hooded man chuckled, slapping his glistening cock against your swollen lips. “Nah, she’d be too boring knocked out. I like to watch her submit.” He growled, fisting his length.

You moaned sharply, eyes closing as Masky continued to curl his fingers, drawing noises from your mouth. He slid them out, his fingers glistening with your arousal, holding them up. He let go of your hair, his hand tugging down his zipper and freeing his strained cock. It wasn’t much bigger than Hoodie’s, but your raw throat didn’t make you thrilled to have two large cocks in your face. Hoodie gripped Masky’s wrist, pulling his hand to his mouth as he slid his mask up, barely revealing his mouth. Taking the soaked fingers in his lips, he swirled his tongue around them, reveling in the taste. Masky watched carefully, cock twitching in front of your face until Hoodie popped the fingers out of his mouth, smiling wickedly. “Yum.” He growled, kneeling between your legs and shoving your knees open. As he shoved your jeans down and off your legs, Masky was quick to grip your cheeks and slide the head of his cock into your mouth. However, unlike Hoodie, his hands let go, placing them on his hips as he watched you. “Well?” He grunted, your questioning look evident as your lips stayed wrapped around the head.

Hoodie was pressing your folds apart, his mask still hooked above his nose as do dove in, licking a thick stripe between them. You grunted, flinching as he lapped at your arousal. Masky still watched impatiently, eyes baring into your face. “Told you you were gonna have to work for it. Either get to sucking or I put a bullet there instead.” He grunted, tilting his head.

You furrowed your brows, your anger pooling but soon interrupted by Hoodie’s tongue breaching your entrance and curling. “Fuck you.” Reluctantly, you began to bob your head, chest straining against the ropes to suck as far down as you could. Masky was cocky, a smug expression in his eyes as he watched you slide down as far as you could before choking and retreating. You slipped your tongue around his head, lapping at the precum that pooled out. The tongue in your cunt made it hard to focus, little whines and moans vibrating on the cock in your mouth as your pleasure grew. 

This was all kinds of insane, but your resolve was slowly breaking the further Hoodie’s tongue lapped up into your cunt. You huffed, sucking hard against the head of Masky’s cock and trying your best not to gag. He watched, unamused, very different from the grunts and gasps that Hoodie sported earlier. “You can either gag on it, or I’ll make you. I won’t be as nice as my friend though.” He snarled, smacking you on the face lightly, leaving a little red mark. You huffed, Hoodie still eagerly eating you out, groaning as he fisted his cock between his legs. Reluctantly, you unhinged your sore jaw, your throat pleading not to as you pushed further, throat constricting as his head pushed through. Gagging, your eyes slammed shut, gripping the chair beneath you. Only then did Masky’s face contort, little grunts and huffs of air muffled behind his mask. His nails dug into his hips, shallowly thrusting without showing too much desperation. 

Your cunt was growing strained, Hoodie’s tongue poking and prodding and dragging you closer to your orgasm. Your back arched, choking on Masky’s cock as your orgasm rocked you, your hips desperately stuttering against Hoodie’s tongue. Your walls constricted, Masky shoving his cock deeper as you heard him grunting, warm seed shooting into your throat. It caught you off guard, but as your eyes rolled and cunt throbbed, you mindlessly swallowed the liquid. 

Hoodie pulled his tongue out of your cunt, standing quickly as he pulled a pocket knife out of his jeans. You panicked, fear contorting your face before realizing he was cutting your ropes off, them falling to the floor. “You’re gonna cum on my cock next, sweetheart,” Hoodie growled, gripping your arms and pulling you, hauling you to the couch behind you. You were still panting heavily as he sat on the couch, hauling you onto his lap and straddling his legs. Masky was quick to follow, his ragged pants behind you as he stood behind your back, pressing his chest against your shoulder blades. 

Trapped, Hoodie gripped your hips, cock throbbing under you as he angled himself, nudging his head against your clit. You flinched, sensitivity running through you as Masky ran his hands against your ass, gripping tightly and pulling them apart. Reaching around, he forced his fingers into your mouth, your tongue running over the thick digits. Hoodie gripped your hips down, pressing your entrance open with his thick cock, straining against your sensitive walls. You whined, stretching sharply as he pressed inside, moans stifled by the fingers in your mouth. Pulling back, Masky rubbed his wet fingers against your puckered asshole, your spine instantly straightening as you realized what he was doing.

“Oh, don’t get scared now,” He smiled, sliding the digits against your hole. You gripped Hoodie’s shoulders as he pressed inside, your cunt throbbing as he bottomed out, moaning sharply. At the same time, Masky pressed his middle finger inside of your asshole, a sharp sting ringing through your body. Hoodie pulled your hips up, thrusting you up and down against his length, your hands gripping tight on his shoulders. Masky curled his finger, probing and stretching the tight ring of flesh as he worked you open, soon adding another one. You were overwhelmed, the mix of pleasure and pain sending you reeling with moans, your skin hot to the touch.

“God, you’re so tight. Pussy sucking me in.” Hoodie huffed, nails sharp against your hips as Masky tugged your shirt over your head, free hand kneading your tits. You were whining, head spinning as Masky stretched you open, Hoodie filling you at the same time. “Bet you’ve never been fucked in the ass before, huh? Gonna have you screaming.” Masky cooed against your neck, mouthing against the skin as he fingered your asshole quickly. 

Pulling out, he nudged the cock head against your hole, gripping your waist as he slowly pushed. “Hold her.” He grunted at Hoodie who held you nestled on his cock, hands forcing you to bottom out as he twitched inside of you. As you felt the slow push, you began to squirm, hips jerking forward. Masky nipped at your neck, sliding his tongue up to the back of your ear and nibbling, groaning as the head of his cock pressed through your entrance and popped in, a sharp sting rining you. Crying out, Hoodie began to slowly thrust up again, huffing his pleasure as he watched your face contort. “Looks so good when you’re helpless.” He grunted, your hands gripping his hands around your hips and pulling, begging him to let off. He still held, teeth gritting.

Masky pressed slowly, cursing as your tight ass clamped down, offering him little room to thrust as he rutted against you. He was big, and the stretch was uncomfortable. But as he reached his hand around to rub your clit, your whines turned to strangled moans, Hoodie resuming his devastating pace. 

Before you knew it, they were both thrusting into you, your mixed grunts and gasps echoing through the small cabin. You were overwhelmed, jaw going slack as their hips thrust in time with each other, cocks brushing against the other inside of you. They pressed close against you, Masky’s teeth digging into your skin as his fingers rubbed harshly against your swollen cunt. “Relax, sweetheart, let us just ruin you.” He groaned, hips pressed flush against your plump ass and rutting up, making you whine. 

Their pace was ruining you, for sure. Your eyes roll and jaw slack as you grip tight, trying to steady yourself. You couldn’t breathe, air catching in your throat as you cracked a moan. You could feel yourself getting close again, Masky’s fingers working you just right. The sweet mix of pleasure and pain ruined you, gasping hard when Hoodie slammed your hips down. Their pace was becoming ragged as well, hips rutting against you as their groans grew heavy. “Go on, cum all over us, sweetheart.” You whined, their hips heavy and voices rough as you felt that familiar pull spill over. “Oh God, please-”

Your cunt constricted, clit throbbing under rough fingers as you screamed your orgasm. It was dizzying, both holes clamping down and throbbing around the thick lengths as they continued to pound you. Your sensitivity rocked you, hips squirming and tears spilling down your cheeks as you tried to claw away from their still brutal pace. 

“Oh don’t go running now.” Hoodie huffed, lifting his hips off the couch and slamming inside, relishing in the way your tightness held him. They both grunted, Masky tangling his hand in your hair and slipping out of your ass, your loud whine making him curse. Hoodie was soon to follow, standing and throwing your back down on the couch, the two of them standing shoulder to shoulder above you. You were panting, sweat coating your brow as you watched them fist their cocks in front of your face, their grunts and huffs echoing behind their masks. “Open up.” Masky barked, pressing his cock close to your face.

Fucked out, you obliged, too tired to give up a fight. They groaned, cock heads touching as they came on your flattened tongue, their seed striping across your face. You closed your eyes, squirming as the warm liquid coated your face and their moans became ragged. 

After they settled, your eyes were heavy, blinking calmly as they watched you. Hoodie slid over to the kitchen table, grabbed your camera and flipped it on, laughing as he snapped pictures. Your cheeks were dark, your face fucked out and tired as the flash blinded you. “Looks real good without cum all over you.” He smiled, stuffing his cock back in his jeans as Masky did the same. Masky grabbed your ragged shirt, huffing as he wiped your face clean, your tired eyes making him laugh. “I like you a lot better when your mouth isn’t running.”

You couldn’t be bothered to give a response, just slumping down further into the couch as sleepiness dozed you. The two men chuckled, watching closely as you finally slipped into a very vulnerable sleep.

-

When you stirred, the first thing you were met with was the forest floor, grass tickling your nose. It was light outside, the early morning light slightly blinding your tired eyes. You sat up, looking around quickly but sighing when there was no sign of the men or their freaky cabin. Your backpack was beside you, leaning against the barbed wire fence where you had entered the forest, your camera sat on top. Standing, you grabbed the camera, flipping it on as you quickly looked through the photos. 

You cringed as you looked at the lewd pictures of yourself, embarrassment crippling your face. You were thankful for their mercy, but their bruteness made you groan, your lower region still sore and throbbing. You threw your bag over your shoulders, hopping back over the fence as you made the trek back to your car.

You glanced back one final time, nervously scanning the forest edge, but sighing when you found nothing. 

You got more than you came for, but at least your portfolio would be good.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[another-lost-mc]

Hello! Hope your doing well, I just wanted to request how Lucifer (and his brothers if you want) would react to an MC with a birthday on the same day or near their birthday? I am requesting this because I only just found out my birthday is the day after Lucifers, I really don’t know how I never realized this, but yeah. You don’t have to do this right away I know your busy, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your day/night!

- 🥀

a/n: that could lead to so many fun and touching moments! my birthday is the day after solomon's and I think a combined party with him would be awesome, as long as he's not allowed to cook anything.

sharing the same birthday with mc | the demon brothers + dateables

1.2k words | sfw | fluff | gn!reader

cw: slightly suggestive in belphie's section because it's him. hints of possessiveness if you squint (mostly the dateables).

There are different reactions to knowing your birthday is on or near their own. Almost all of them will try to prioritize your own preferences instead of their own. If you do (or don't) want to celebrate your birthdays together, they'll accommodate you so that you have the best birthday possible. ♡

Lucifer — He's the Avatar of Pride and one of Diavolo's closest friends. A large celebration is inevitable and he has a certain image to uphold. If it were anyone else but you, he might be offended about sharing the spotlight of his birthday with someone else. Since it is you, he's not only open to the idea, but he's suddenly more invested in making sure the others take the preparations seriously. He also realizes that throwing one party (and dealing with the chaos that ensues) might be better than trying to throw two parties.

Mammon — He's totally onboard sharing his birthday party if it's with you. Everyone goes all-out to make the party bigger and better, and he's not going to complain about that. He still wants to do something special though, just the two of you. Maybe the day before or the day after the big party, nothing fancy, as long as you can focus on each other. Plus, he just happens to have another present he got for you, one he didn't want to give you at the party in front of everyone else. It's more sentimental, and he blushes when you open it and your eyes sparkle happily like the most beautiful gems he's ever seen. Without the others around, he gets to keep this perfect moment all to himself.

Levi — This works out great for him and he's more than willing to share the spotlight with you. It draws attention away from himself which means he's not as anxious. He doesn't usually like how much of a fuss everyone makes about his birthday. He might actually enjoy himself more knowing that he has something else in common with his Henry you. When the celebrations get too intense and completely unbearable, he can sneak away while everyone is distracted by the other guest of honor. Honestly, he thinks you deserve more attention than he does anyway.

Satan — He knows you have excellent taste and is completely fine to let you choose what kind of party to have. His brothers complain about his boring birthday ideas: going to a museum or gallery, seeing a play or obscure film in the human world. It's painfully transparent when they're more enthusiastic about doing those things if you want to. Satan can't find it in his heart to be (too) angry about it, because he holds your hand or sits next to you the entire time. He's going to make the most of it and no one else can complain. It's his birthday, after all.

Asmo — The only thing better than a big party celebrating his birthday is an even bigger party celebrating both of you! He's almost unbearable during the planning stage - he insists that everything must be perfect because you deserve nothing less than that. By the time he's done organizing everything, his birthday almost feels like an afterthought because he gets so caught up in making it the perfect day for you. He holds your hand and tucks you against his side when the party guests greet you and offer their birthday wishes. He takes countless selfies of both of you, but he keeps most of them for himself because he just can't bring himself to share them. You're stunning in the matching outfit he gave you as part of your gift, and he feels like the luckiest demon in the three realms every time you return his happy smiles with a bashful one of your own.

Beel & Belphie — They're already used to sharing birthday parties with each other, and they're happy to share with you too. They love their brothers and appreciate their friends, but on their birthday, they would rather spend the day with you alone. Their dream birthday is the perfect blend of all three of your interests. Beel gets to splurge on his favourite foods, and Belphie clings to you like an overly affectionate sloth. He's half-serious when he asks you to feed him because he's too tired to feed himself, and Beel just smiles around a mouthful of food watching the two of you bicker across the table. Beel gives you his gift, something thoughtful but practical, something he knows you wanted. Belphie nuzzles against your shoulder and slides his hand under the hem of your shirt and promises, "When we get home, we should have a nap - and I'll give you your present then."

Diavolo — His birthday is already one of the grandest celebrations in the Devildom, and he likes that it also falls on Halloween. Adding your birthday celebration to his is the best excuse to throw the biggest party in the three realms. Even if you share a party together, he makes sure that all the attendees acknowledge your birthday as much as they acknowledge his. He makes a toast in your honour and invites all your other friends to do the same. It's a glimpse of what it feels like to treat you like royalty, and Diavolo thinks he wouldn't mind sharing his birthday (or more) with you.

Barbatos — He doesn't usually like it when the others make a fuss over his birthday. It feels sort of pointless to someone with his power - time has strange meaning to him now. He softens his resistance to big parties or elaborate plans when he realizes he shares that special day with you. He would gladly take a personal day to celebrate his birthday (or yours) if you ask him to, since it's your company he enjoys the most. The Little Ds work hard to make sure Barbatos has nothing to worry about on his day off, but he's suspicious that they're only behaving so well because of you. Every year he looks forward to his birthday because he can spend the day spoiling you, and since your birthdays are so close together, he has the rare luxury of being spoiled by you too.

Simeon — He would prefer to spend his birthdays with you alone. He doesn't have many desires, but your company is something he craves constantly. That doesn't change when your birthday is the same as his, or is very close to it. If he's smart about it, he can make your combined celebration work to his advantage. It's not a lie when he tells everyone that an outing or special trip might be more exciting than a party at the castle, and it's hard to resist when there's still so much of the Devildom for you to experience and explore. (Simeon mostly counts on having more opportunities to sneak you away for some alone time if the others are distracted by their own activities.)

Solomon — He gloats that your birthdays are (nearly) identical, as if you're kindred spirts that share a special bond the others don't. (He brags about it so much that if they didn't care before, they're annoyed by it now.) The month of December in the human world can be so festive and nostalgic, but he understands why having a birthday during a holiday season can be a double-edged sword. Sometimes your birthday felt second-place to the other celebrations going on that time of year. You're his adorable little apprentice, and he promises like an oath that you'll never be disappointed or alone on your birthday again. You've never felt so special because you know he means it. (Your only request is that he lets someone else handle the birthday cake.)

read more: when it's mc's birthday (nsfw) | obey me masterlist

[r0-boat]

Possessive

Cat hybrid! Ingo x reader x Cat hybrid! Emmet

Cw: slight yandere, jealous, and possessive Behavior.

They owe you their lives for rescuing them. Ingo I'll never forget the day it was a cold snowy night him and his brother, who had been surviving outside for as long as they could remember seeking refuge in an old abandoned train tunnel. Emmet being stubborn, refusing his brother's torn coat no matter how cold he was. Him and his brother were tired cold and starving this town was unforgiving too wild hybrids and they were not cute kittens anymore and nobody was willing to bring home two strange men.

Thats when Emmet, trying desperately to huddle into his own clothing for warmth, noticed a bright light coming down the tunnel. As the bright light approached they noticed a figure, a human. Emmet hissed at the figure, all day they had been running from mean humans and other hybrids just to find a spot to sleep but Ingo did not want any trouble he understood his brothers frustration but responding hostility would only brew more hostility. The human had a green uniform and the light came from a lantern they were holding. They came to inspect the old railway tunnel as their boss was hoping to remodel and refurbish for future use. But they did not expect to find two hybrids cold and dirty looking glaring up at them. The one with a smile was growling at you, his tail fluffed and his ears flattened. The one who had a frown his voice scratchy husky as if he was suffering from a cold spoke quietly

"Please we do not want any trouble if we're trespassing; we'll leave immediately."

Your heart broken too technically they were trespassing but you couldn't just kick them out like this.

"Do you need help? Here come with me."

Ingo with speechless, unable to answer this was a random human who offered their help normally he wouldn't trust strangers but they are in no shape to decline help of any kind Emmet was confused. Surely this was some kind of joke? But seeing his brother take the humans offered hand, he was still wary, but he would have done the same.

Now, their lives have changed. Ingo smiles fondly, seeing his brother now practically begging for the human's attention.

Emmet hated you at first; he would stay respectful and cordial, but other than that, you'd always keep his distance. If he weren't with his brother, he'd be somewhere else. Now he's attached to you to the hip, insisting on following you around anywhere. And he can't blame him. You are as kind and gentle as your heart, taking in two strange hybrids, opening up your home to them and your heart. And their mind has saved their lives. They are indebted to you, and they'll happily do anything and be anything you desire.

Now they walk side by side with you, your scary "dog" privileges. You like they keep the creeps away, but sometimes…

"Ingo… I told you we were going to have a guest tonight. Why did you throw him back out?" You were sad and Confused. You brought home a date, and for some reason, you are normally polite and well-mannered. Hybrids started acting strangely, cold, and childish, squishing themselves in between you and your date. Literally and figuratively, as they squeeze themselves in between the two of you or cut into your conversations, anything to steal your attention until your date who has gotten fed up with their shenanigans and leaves your home.

"My dear, I don't know what it was about him, but he didn't feel right to me," Ingo said.

"What are you talking about? He was great, perfect even. Emmet ?" Looking over at his brother for his opinion Emmet who had a triumphant smile on his face, bluntly stated, "Good riddance, I'd say. He did not deserve you."

You sighed in frustration, resting your head in your hands. This was the third date they had chased off. It's not like going somewhere would stop them the last two times you tried; they were conveniently in the same place you were.

"Guys, please. If you don't stop chasing people the way I might actually get a partner. And not die alone."

Emmet wiped his head around, walking toward you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. "don't say that; you are not alone because you have us."

Ingo agrees, taking your hand in his, steel gray eyes staring into yours. " That's right, you already are a part of our 3-car train. You don't need anyone else."

[merakiui]

How would things go in the instance Jade and Floyd don't want to share darling ? 🤔 I know you keep writing them as they're okay with sharing, but they're also selfish and greedy too, so I'm curious of how you think it would play out. 😮

They basically fight over you like you're the last potential mate on the planet. You're all they see and all they want, but since neither is willing to compromise and share then they will definitely try to win you over in their own ways. Jade takes a very sweet, romantic approach, always sending you coy smiles and sidling up to you when you're standing beside him in hopes of charming you with kind sentiments and flirts (which are usually genuine, but sometimes if something comes from Jade you can't help feeling suspicious). He invites you on his mountain hikes and to the botanical gardens to water your plants together.

Floyd just acts like himself. He thinks Jade's trying too hard and that makes him look lame. Floyd will spoil you with lots of random gifts because he likes to give things to you. He'll gift you a potion with a very odd color and odor that he brewed in alchemy or he'll give you a nice piece of jewelry he got from one of Azul's clients or he'll give you a plushie that reminds him of you. Floyd loves to be around you at all times, so chances are if he's skipped his shifts or doesn't show up in class then he's gone to wherever you might be.

They also avidly cockblock the other, so neither ever gets a chance to kiss you, hold your hand, get close enough to initiate intimacy. Every time Floyd tries to open his mouth wide to show off his pharyngeal jaw, Jade is quick to stuff a snack in his mouth (cream bread, gummy candies, peppermints, lollipops, whatever he happens to have on him; Jade always has snacks on him for these reasons) to stop Floyd, who rounds on him with raised fists and an irritated growl. Jade has the most delightful smile on his face, all while calmly reminding (and artfully dodging every punch Floyd throws), "It isn't very polite to open your mouth so casually at others, Floyd."

Or when Jade prepares a meal for you (which has an aphrodisiac or mushrooms with numbing effects mixed in) and Floyd, despite his hatred of mushrooms, will quickly intercept the meal with a very bright grin, happily thanking Jade for feeding him because wow was he starving! Floyd has to suffer the consequences afterwards, when he's locked away in his room with all the feeling gone in his body or overwhelmed with a lustful heat he just can't shake. Jade always tuts at him when he checks in; naturally he saw this coming, but it's still troublesome that even a mushroom dish won't stop Floyd from getting between the two of you. He'll just have to try harder. Though no one knows Jade better than Floyd does, and no one knows Floyd better than Jade does. They'll predict the other's moves with ease just to get in the way.

And then there are the times when they get so irritated with the other that it leads to physical fights. The amount of times Azul has had to summon you to the lounge to break up their fights before they cause any more damage... orz but the twins always listen to you; they always stop throwing punches the minute you speak, immediately trying to place the blame on the other for starting the violent scuffle so that you'll feel more pity for them.

"You shoulda seen how mean Jade was, shrimpy! He hit me first. It really hurts, ya know. How's about you kiss it better for me? Please, shrimpy?" Floyd will beg with a pout while he cradles his bruised cheek, masterfully playing the part of the sweet, innocent, injured brother.

Jade smooths the wrinkles in his unkept, torn uniform, also looking equally hurt. "To think my only kin would resort to such nasty violence... (Name), you must understand that I only meant to protect myself. It was Floyd who became so rough..." If he really wants to send a proper message, he might even fake cry, tearing up in a way that looks so authentic you might be compelled to go to him first.

Azul cannot believe these fools are acting like this when they both have work to attend to. They're running a business here, and time is money! They can't afford to be distracted with these foolish spats, but Azul has no room to criticize because he's just as down bad for you as the twins are. And while they engage in their sibling rivalry, he gets to slip into your heart slowly but surely as he takes note of what works and what fails when the twins attempt to impress you. :)

[pocketramblr]

For the ask game 5 thing do one where Naomasa is Giran's sugar baby 😈

yeah. why not.

1- "Now, information is my livelihood, so I can't give you something for nothing..." The broker started, giving the detective a curious look over. The rookie is stiff, and frowns deeper. He's too clean to bribe for anything and will leave if there's nothing useful here. On saying so, he turns, but the broker tsks. "I didn't ask for money, did I? From you, detective, i wouldn't need much. How about a light?" He pulls a cigarette from his pocket. But the detective doesn't smoke, has no lighter, and says as much. The broker knew it and smiles, wishing him better luck next time. Then the detective whirls, grabs the gun from Giran's pocket, and holds it up. "You won't pay, but you're willing to shoot me for information?" He says, incredulous, but not fearful.

"No." Detective Tsukauchi clicks the gun-shaped lighter, and lights the end of the cigarette. "But you're willing to talk now, you said?"

Giran laughs at the audacity and throws the guy a bone, laughing harder when the detective turns and tries to hide his blush by pushing down his hat as he leaves.

2- The broker decides he quite likes this new detective. He decides to keep giving him information for a bit of sugar- a joke, a light, he once got Tsukauchi to grudgingly lend him his coat as Giran's light, open shirt wasn't suitable for going home in the rain in. He did finally return the coat (in exchange for something else of course) and Tsukauchi could never get the smell of smoke out. (For his own part, Giran is curious about the perfumes the detective always seems to wear, but that's far from the most interesting thing about him, so.)

3- Once they establish that they'll be meeting each other semi-regularly, they do some research on each other, background check, quirk check, all that stuff. Then it becomes almost a game to avoid directly triggering the other's quirk. Giran, naturally, has much more fun than Tsukauchi during these games but hey he's giving the guy stuff for free so what's he going to do, complain? (yes. he complains often to Sansa.) Giran's even giving Tsukauchi information about AfO- not everything, he doesn't even know everything, but he's sure telling far more than he'd sell to anyone else. He justifies this as no betrayal to his customer because Tsukauchi couldn't possibly be a threat. What's he going to do, secretly turn out to have All Might on speed dial and help the hero kill AfO a second time?

4- .... um anyway so when Popstep gets Bee'd, Giran tsks at the question Tsukauchi asks him, looking all the wrong ways into the villain factory. "You know, the last victim was a hero's daughter. He paid a pretty penny to get what he needed to save her- but he already knew the real problem you're missing; I was happy to do it." The detective asks what he wants this time, and Giran says he'd like to share a smoke. Tsukauchi isn't sure when he started carrying a lighter (lie: he absolutely is) but he uses it regardless, then stares as Giran offers the cig to him.

"I don't smoke."

"I know. I said I wanted to share a smoke with you."

Tsukauchi finally takes it, almost chokes on it, and fails to keep Giran patting his back over it while telling him about the way to stop the bees. But then Giran takes the cig back to bring to his own lips, then handing it again between them. "There's more you'll want to know. Try another drag."

The taste of tobacco doesn't quite mask the taste of bile when the extent of the parasite is explained.

5- Oh yeah the whole 'All Might Kills AfO a second time' thing yeah that happens at some point after Vigs but before canon, why not, a treat for Toshi. So Tsukauchi actually sees Giran leaving just before everything comes down and skulking around the edges of the scene later. He turns away and lets the broker leave. An exhausting 36 hours later, when he finally returns home and goes to bed, he wakes to find Giran on his balcony. He warily joins him. Giran complains about the loss of a very good customer, and Tsukauchi mentions a suspected accomplice who got away.

"And why'd you let him get away, Detective?"

"I thought he'd be more willing to help later."

Giran doesn't dignify that with a response, merely musing that he's paid to have people killed for less than what Tsukauchi cost him.

"So you think I'll be worth more later instead? An investment?"

"Ah, hah. No. We have the same reason, yes, but we both know that aint it."

"Then what is it?"

Giran smiles, getting closer- then Tsukauchi blinks and he's gone. Confused, he looks around- just a very strong, smokey scent, and when he goes back inside, his alarm clock says the time is later than he expected by a few minutes. Tsukauchi's heartrate begins to pick up when he puts it together- or maybe it was already going faster when he started remembering again.

[hedgiwithapen]

okay last one! "If you don’t know my options, don’t judge my choices.” any fandom you want! just wanna see your (heartbreaking i'm sure) take on it.

I pick Leverage!

(set during mid s3!)

"Nate, we need to talk," Eliot said, grabbing the team's mastermind by the arm and dragging him to the empty bar. He looked around, making sure the others were out of earshot. Thankfully, they were.

"Alright then, talk." Nate said. Eliot wanted very badly to punch him for how blithe he was being.

"This is too much, Nate. Moreau? Absolutely not. I'm telling you as your hitter, we can't do this. we Shouldn't do this, and we can't."

Nate sighed, reaching for a glass. Eliot smacked his hand. "I'm serious."

"Yeah, yeah. Didn't I get you a train? Didn't we beat a Steranko? We can take Moreau. We have too." He retrieved the tipped glass, and a bottle to go with it. His eyes already looked glassy.

Eliot had had enough.

"Of course. It's your decision, every time, isn't it? Like you know better than the rest of us? We can find another way to keep you out of jail, man. You're so damn worried about your reputation, you're so full of your own damn skill-"

"Eliot," Nate said, steely. "Drop it."

Eliot recoiled.

"No! Not if you're bent on this bullshit. Sophie may not be willing to call you out, but I am."

"You don't get to judge my choices when you don't know the options." Nate took a long drink.

Eliot huffed, seething. "Your options, huh, and what are those? Get the team killed or look bad? I can see how that would be a tough--"

"You're all dead if we don't." Nate said. "At least if we try, we stand a fighting chance."

Eliot stared. "Excuse me," he said very, very softly, the kind of voice that made men who knew him very, very afraid. "What?"

"The Italian. Those were her terms. Six months to take down Moreau. Or it's open season on the team. You, you'd probably be fine on your own. The rest of them? It just takes one guy getting lucky. One cut harness, one rigged safe. A vase with a bomb in it…"

"You lied to us. You kept this from us. We could have --"

"Gone to ground? Hidden, for the rest of your lives? They wouldn't have been very long. Taking down Moreau is your only shot. Our only shot." Nate looked at the bar. "I'd have told you. When we hit five months. Or if the team decided to walk away. But it wasn't… you didn't need to know. That's my job."

Eliot shook his head. "Your job," he repeated. "Well, mine is to keep this fa--this team safe. Don't make it harder."

"Are you going to tell them?" Nate asked.

Eliot hated his answer. "No. You're right. Knowing would throw Hardison off. We can't have mistakes, against Moreau. But I'm telling them when we finally run at him. They'll need to know then. " He looked at the ceiling, hypocrite that he was, he took the bottle from Nate, and didn't tell him anything more.

[northwest-cryptid]

I do honestly think it's really interesting how willing people are to look past things they dislike when it's being used/done by someone they do, but they'll still attack individuals for the same shit.

Like "AI is bad" unless it's being done by someone like Dougdoug, in which case most people are largely able to look past the idea that AI is bad, this is likely because it's being used in such a way where the AI is very obvious and open; and because it's being used for comedy. The thing is, anyone using AI has the ability to use it in this way; but the concept that "AI can be used ethically and in a fun way that doesn't hurt people" isn't considered on a larger scale. It becomes more of an "AI is bad, but if you're popular enough to get away with it; have fun."

Or "Chocolate is literally created via slave labor, buying or enjoying chocolate contributes to slavery." Unless you're that guy who makes chocolate sculptures for tiktok and shit. In which case we'll just focus on the fact you're weaving chocolate or something, and not pay any mind to the sheer amount of chocolate you're using and the fact that this likely covers more money going to the same slave labor chocolate production as like 100 individuals buying a kitkat on lunch because they want a snack. People look past all of this because the art he makes with chocolate is undeniably impressive and fun to watch.

Don't even get me started on "racism is bad, portraying minorities as stereotypes and especially making them antagonistic in media is wrong..." Unless you're Mihoyo in which case you'll find extreme success with Genshin Impact despite literally referencing Native American people for your main fodder enemies; people are willing to look past this because I guess the game is fun and the waifus are hot? I don't know man I don't play racist games.

Misogyny is wrong and sexism in the workplace, or as a cultural norm needs to be dealt with; and indie companies need to be held to the same professional standards as anyone else; but if you're ProjectMoon you get a weird pass on throwing such a shitstorm that you not only get your game momentarily boycott but you also can't handle your business connections well enough to manage not having an entire webcomic shut down. Yea WonderLab is now lost media congratulations, the whole of your shitty business dealings came to light; underpaying staff and treating third parties like garbage because "you're just a little indie company uwu" when you've been raking in the big bucks for a while now. Don't worry though because your audience is too attached to [Blorbo From My Games] to give you any real backlash that will negatively effect your company.

So like, what then? Am I saying we should demonize all these people?

Well no actually that's not the case, though I DO think you should boycott Genshin on the grounds it IS racist; and you absolutely should boycott Limbus Company until the company behind it can get their act together and stop being sexist assholes and generally a shitty company.

That being said, if you think I'm trying to attack dougdoug or the chocolate man who's name escapes me at the moment; you can't be further from my point. My point here is to stop attacking people overall; seek solutions to the problem without attacking the individuals. If you see me, as a single individual buying a kitkat on my lunch break; this is not the time to inform me that I'm somehow contributing to slavery before you go off and reblog "he's weaving chocolate!?!?!" As if that's not literally far worse than what I'm doing.

"But I CAN effect what YOU'RE doing, I can't tell him he's contributing to slavery and make him stop!" Why not?

I mean seriously why the fuck not? You understand these people are only given power by the viewers who support them right? The people who buy their products, the people who give them money.

If he can find a way of supporting businesses that don't use or profit from slave labor then great that's a fantastic change. Similar to how Dougdoug not only writes most of his own scripts but uses AI in such a way that it's ethical, it doesn't involve stealing or victims.

The take away there should be that it's possible to use these things in a way that doesn't hurt people, this is why I think it's different from companies like Mihoyo and ProjectMoon as much as taking any shots at ProjectMoon sucks as a fan of their games; I think sexism and anti-capitalism is more important than some blorbo from my games. That's why I'm not only not spending money on Limbus, but I'm not even playing; I refuse to inflate their user numbers and give them the marketability. I refuse to tell them that doing wrong doesn't have consequences.

"Yea but are you actually doing anything? Does it actually matter?" Well yes and no, yes because if I don't do anything then nothing will happen, nothing will change; nothing will get better. However no because I'm just one person, and if you've ever worked retail and heard the classic "you just lost a customer!" You know as well as I that one person on their own doesn't matter much in the grand scheme of it all when it comes to things like overall company success. However if we all keep giving these racist, sexist, and just generally scummy companies our money and time and activity to market; because "I'm just one person" then nothing is ever going to snowball into a noticeable amount of people.

Boycotts don't work unless a majority of people participate; and I'm sorry but the reason these companies make what they make is to pander to your impulse, to your attention; they prey on your weakness to not be able to break free from them.

That's WHY Genshin has so many waifus and husbandos and bullshit like that; they prey on your inability to control your emotions and thus you will continue to spend money for a chance to obtain your favorite characters and once you do you have an attachment to them; you spent god knows how much money to get them; you invested so much time in getting the currency to roll/pull/draw for them.

That's WHY Limbus Company writes the characters and content they do; because they know you're too invested now; they aren't worried about a silly boycott because they've seen it won't matter. They already know all they need to do is keep releasing more content, and you'll keep playing, you'll keep spending money on it; you'll keep getting hype for whatever comes next. It doesn't matter if you think they're a sexist company, if you think they're capitalist scum; because you're still playing their game, you're still giving them money, you're still supporting them.

This is even true of Tumblr, and it's what I always say when people bring up the fact tumblr isn't listening to anyone telling them about the whole issue of transphobia on this site.

Yea of course tumblr isn't going to listen to you, you're still here. They don't care what you say as long as you still use their site; so long as you still provide them with content, so long as you still inflate their numbers and make their site profitable. You can do whatever you want they're not going to care; if you actually make a big enough stink to make the site unmarketable they'll just precisely ban you, remove the evidence; and move on. They won't ban everyone; if they did that they wouldn't have content; they're only going to lift a finger to bring down the hammer where it absolutely must be done.

Tumblr's CEO went off site to attack a trans girl and while everyone complains about it, we're all still fucking here aren't we? So they absolutely do not care that you know, they absolutely do not care that you're talking about it. In fact god knows that if a post like this ever got super popular and my voice started to matter; I'd just be banned, I'd just be removed with surgical precision; ensuring they leave enough of you all here to keep the ecosystem alive and well so they remain profitable.

I think people point fingers and accuse and blame and throw shade way too much, I don't get on people for AI bullshit for a lot of reasons; but the biggest is that if someone is misusing AI that's the fault of the individual; the person actually doing the theft; not the AI, you don't blame a hammer for breaking a vase; you blame whoever swung it.

Tumblr is a melting pot of various people with various views on things and it's so tiresome to see these sort of half baked moral points getting thrown around "hey if you're not boycotting this you're bad and wrong and a horrible person" okay great, you're not boycotting things I think you should be though so does that make YOU a bad person? It's all fucking relative and honestly unless everyone bands together to make change it's not going to happen, so either agree on something and stick to it; band together and better the world around you; or stop attacking each other for the sins of big companies.

[fennthetalkingdog]

Heyo, so um... I wrote a really long thing. But because homophobia and transphobia is mentioned (not endorsed or condoned, but I used a couple of quotes so I don't know if that counts as being explicit about it?), here's your warning now!

You know, one of the biggest challenges of being trans, for me, is realizing that not everyone's out to get me. Granted, I was set up for failure from the beginning; both of my parents were (and still are) homophobic and transphobic, and though they wouldn't throw me out of the house or disown me for it, they heavily disapprove of it in general. And that was a traumatizing experience for me, as a kid that has such a close relationship with them that I tell them everything even now. To open up to the people I love the most and be told, "No you can't be trans," or to admit to both them and myself about a crush and be told, "But that's ungodly." And besides my brief experience with the general queer community, barely enough to realize that being queer and trans was a thing that you could be, that was my first main experience with being queer, and it set the tone for almost every other interaction between me and queerness for years. Every time it came up, I stiffened, preparing myself for someone to argue it didn't exist or that queer people were just maliciously tricking others for some reason or another, and even when my school friends and teachers accepted me immediately, I couldn't relax and was stuck thinking, "But when will everything go wrong??"

Cut to a few years after and you have me, in college, going by my chosen name on literally everything that's not legal and (a lot of times) openly telling folks my pronouns. But it's taken a lot of character development to even get here. It took me a month going to early college and being completely away from my parents to realize that people actually won't care too much and will just use your chosen name and whatever pronouns you ask for (even neopronouns, to some extent; though there will be a lot of stumbling and questions involved, people close to you will be willing to go through that even just for your comfort). It took me until literally a few months ago to fully come to terms with the fact that people automatically (and accidentally) misgendering you isn't malicious at all, and in fact they'll often feel kinda upset if you don't correct them. And also, you don't need to tell everyone your pronouns. (I've taken to not correcting people who I'm not especially close to, especially because even though I am a boy, none of my body is changed and I can't blame others for assuming. Plus some people find connection in a shared identity [like being the only two girls in a group], and I don't have to feel pressured to correct them and break [or at least somewhat fray] that. But other people have different boundaries and comfort levels.) It didn't take me long to get comfortable with being feminine once I realized I was trans, but it took me so much longer to realize that if you tell the people around you that you're a boy, they won't see you as a girl just because you dress or act more feminine one day versus another.

But for all this to happen, you need to tell people about your identity; be comfortable with answering questions about (almost) anything and everything, because people might be confused and it's best to approach that with an open mind rather than a closed and boobytrapped one. My wonderful college friends are a great example of that—they consistently call me a boy and make man jokes and call my hawaiian shirts dad shirts and call me a femboy on my feminine days. But months before now, I had to have a bunch of conversations with one about how I saw myself, my relationship with gender and sex, what body modifications were involved in my view of myself, and more. (Some of these conversations are more than you'd just give a plain friend, but I didn't mind getting a little personal so that was my boundary. Also there were many days when I felt myself getting reflexively defensive and I had to leave, think about the topic for a week or so, and come back with a calmer mind.) And even now I still give my friends feedback on what pronouns feel good, if how and when they use them feels nice (since I like having my pronouns mixed), etc. because I've had to teach myself that showing that I like something won't get me scorned or ridiculed. It's a very, very slow process and it involves learning just as much about yourself as it does telling that to other people, but let me tell you it's so rewarding.

Now, there are still times when people are legitimately homophobic/transphobic to me. Like, I haven't even come out to my parents yet, despite literally telling one of their sisters that I'm nonbinary, because I know that I likely will never be able to change their views and I don't want to put myself through that pain again. So when I hear them talk about queerness (which doesn't happen often, thank goodness, but still occasionally does), I still prepare myself for the worst. But part of my healing was restricting that response to just them and people who have already proven themselves to be queerphobic. I don't want to be a person that gives someone a bad experience with the queer community just because I'm defensive thanks to my own experiences, because though I can't control them, I would never want to be someone that, even unknowingly, causes someone else pain.

(And yes, a major factor in my ability to even come to this conclusion is the fact that I'm no longer constantly living with my parents. I waited 2 and a half years to finally not be under their roof, and during that time that was all I was doing: waiting. It's only been since I could leave that I could truly process everything and try to form thoughts on the matter because I'm no longer just trying to survive. So I'm not talking mainly to those people who are still waiting, but still, if you're stuck having to wait, don't feel bad that you can't grow. Sometimes all you can do is wait, and in the end, that's just as important.)

So yeah, that's the mindset that I've been trying to build over the past year or so of finally being free to be myself. And I'm trying to carry it on to other parts of my life (the autism/ADHD, the nonhumanity, the blackness) just because it's a happier and more productive way to spend my life than constantly being on the lookout for bigots and avoiding people who could just be ignorant. Because I can't control them, but I can control me, and I don't want a bigot to decide how happy I live my life even after they're gone.

[lexa-griffins]

Clarke is the stereotypical bad girl in school while Lexa is the over achieving nerd. Clarke's parents hire Lexa to be her tutor so Clarke can pass her classes and finally graduate this year

Lexa is so frustrated at Clarke because she never pays attention during her tutoring sessions. She's too distracted and can never focus.

Although her classmates may think Lexa is an angel, she's actually very kinky and slutty. Lexa decides to use sex to incentivize Clarke to study

It actually works

Lexa isn't the biggest believer in seeing the best in people. Why should she find excuses for people who want to show nothing more than their worst selves?

That's exactly what she feels like with Clarke. She is not tutoring her out of the goodness of her heart or because she believes deep down Clarke is a good soul with a brave heart. No. Clarke is a wannabe bad girl who does little more than smoke behind the school, skips classes like she isn't two years behind, and pretends like the world is all about what she wants. All Lexa is here for is the Griffin's paycheck, who seem to hold to the strong belief that their daughter will be able to graduate anytime in the next decade, and while Lexa would disagree, she needs to show up every weekend while they are away on some business trip to tutor their very uninterested daughter in a room that reeks of weed.

And right now, as Lexa tries to explain to her once again the themes of the novel they were assigned, she teuly fails to see any good in Clarke. She's sighing with boredom, making sly comments about everything Lexa tells her, Lexa can tell their belief is oh so very misplaced.

"Clarke, did you hear what I just said?"

Clarke is spaced out, staring somewhere in Lexa's direction but clearly not looking at her.

"Hm? Oh, no."

Lexa closes her eyes for a second, trying not to pop the vein her head at repeating herself for the fourth time. As she starts to repeat herself, focusing on Clarke's face, she realizes where her attention lies.

"Are you staring at my tits?"

Without a drop of shame, Clarke smirks, "Yup. They are much more interesting than whatever it is you are talking about. Did you know they jiggle slightly when you shake your leg in anger at me?"

Immediately, Lexa freezes the leg she's been bouncing nonstop in anger for a good half an hour now.

"You are so gross."

"And you are entirely too hot to be this fucking boring."

Lexa shots up from where she's sitting, putting distance between herself and Clarke, "Urgh. You are just- fucking impossible."

"Well, I dont give a single shit about any of this. Never have. And I doubt you'll change my opinion on it."

Lexa bites her lip as she tries to contain her anger. She can not afford to lose this gig. If the Griffin's realize Clarke is making no improvements they'll try and find someone better and she cant fucking afford to that. They pay too well for such a simple job.

As Clarke lies in bed, unbothered by the red in Lexa's face or the silence in the room, Lexa's mind finds what might be a risky, but perfect solution for her troubles.

She steps towards the bed without hesitation, throwing her legs around Clarke's waist and sitting on her lap with confidence. She bites back a smile as she watches Clarke’s eyes grow bigger at the sudden boldness of the move, her mouth opened in shock.

She tries to rouch Lexa's hips but Lexa quickly slaps them away.

"How about this? I ride you and if you get the answers right I'll let you cum." Lexa states nonchalantly, pretending the thought of it doesn't excite her, pretending the sudden hardness she feels againt her crotch from Clarke's own pants doesn't make her shiver.

Clarke smirks at the thought, hand once again trying to find Lexa's skin, "Damn Woods, I never thought you-"

Lexa pushes the hand away, more aggressively this time around, "I need this fucking job and for me to keep it you need to learn. If this will make you at least pay attention, Im willing to do it. But dont think Im doing it because I've been secretly dreaming of fucking you."

"Maybe not me, but I think you've been dreaming of something like this for a while now."

Lexa feels her breathing shake when Clarke's hand touches her thigh, "I have not."

"Oh, c'mon Lexa. I'm not as stupid as i may seem. No one jumps into the riding a dick train just to keep a side gig."

"Fine. I get to ride dick and keep my job. Seems like a good deal to me, happy?"

"And what exactly do I get from this?"

Lexa is feeling herself getting wetter by the minute and Clarke's parents should be home in about an hour. She really doesnt have time for Clarke's stupid games.

"Good grades, a quick fuck and your parents off your ass?

Clarke seems to think about this for a second before making a face, "Doesn't seem like enough of a motivator."

Fuck this girl. Lexa finds herself slowly grinding on Clarke's clothed boner, somwthing the girl underneathher seems unbothered by, "what more could you possibly want Clarke?"

She wastes no time in geabbing a handful of Lexa's ass and squeezing it through her jeans, "If i pass the class I get to fuck your ass."

Lexa stops her movements, scrunching her face at the suggestion, pretending the idea didn't just get her wetter, "You are un fucking believable. Fuck that, forget I even suggested it, good luck finding someone else to tutor you!" Lexa exclaims as she moves away from Clarke with difficulty, her core wanting nothing more than to continue her grinding.

A hand grabbing her arm stops her, "Hey! Okay, okay. Forget that." Clarke pulls her in top of her once again and this time their faces are inches apart, "i accept the deal."

Lexa nods solemnly. She reaches her notebook and opens it next to them. She makes quick work of both of their pants, faking complete calmness when Clarke's boner jumps out and nearly hits her face, sliding the condom around Clarke's dick with expertise. Shes dripping at this point and she lowers herself onto Clarke's dick with ease. There is a smirk on her face when she sees the bliss in Clarke's face by being buried inside of her.

Lexa starts moving, slowly, back and forth. "Clarke?"

"Y-yeah?"

"What are the main themes of the novel"

"What?"

Lexa stops her movements completely, earning her a desperate groan from Clarke. "What are the main themes of the novel? There are three."

"Hm..."

"Id you get them right, I'll ride you faster. If not, I'll continue the slow pace"

Immediately, Lexa sees the wheels turn inside Clarke's brain "Death hm.... Famine and Family?

It seems she found a way to get to Clarke. She moves faster without warning and almost immediately Clarke moans, glad to have gotten it right.

They continue the game until Clarke manages to answer as many questions as Lexa is comfortable asking before she herself finds the urge to cum is too much.

As Clarke answers the final question, Lexa rides her hard and fast, letting control go out the window, allowing Clarle to grip her ass and gride her dick deeper inside, cumming deep inside Lexa.

"Fuck." Clarke chuckles as she comes down from her high, "thats ine way to learn useless shit."

"I accept your condition."

"My condition?"

"If you pass I'll let you fuck my ass. But. You need to get an A, not just pass. I dont work with under achievers. "

Clarke smiles genuinely this time and Lexa feels her heart skip a beat at the warmth in her face. Its gone the moment Clarke's smile turns into a smirk, "That good?"

"You are so gross."

The sessions repeat, twice a week. The results are clear as day with each quiz, Clarke's parents impressed at the improvement, so much so they start paying for more lessons, payment Lexa takes gladly.

And with each excellent new mark, the closer they get to the payment of their agreement, with Clarke so mucj as biting Lexa's ass as she gets dressed, a whispered "you're nearly mine" that makes Lexa roll her eyes and pretend the bite didn't set something off in her.

Lexa is really hopes Clarke gets that A.

[skylarstark4826]

Up at the shack in the Hallelujah Mountains, Jake and Dr. Augustine had been in their link units for a couple of hours while they mingled with the Omaticaya in their avatars. They'd be there for the rest of the day.

Trudy and Norm had been in his bunk for nearly as long, and didn't plan on leaving it any time soon either.

The scientist woke to a warm hand idly tracing circles on his shoulder; he smiled and hugged the pilot briefly in response.

Trudy had a lot on her mind and spoke thoughtfully, "Norm, do me a favor?"

He didn't hesitate, "Anything."

Her request surprised him. "Get off of Jake's back."

Norm's eyes popped open in surprise and he picked his head up to look at her. "Hey, wait a minute…"

Trudy turned her face towards him; her gaze was steely. "No, you listen." The tone of her voice matched the look in her eyes, and he went quiet. Norm was reminded that the passionate woman he was holding was also a ruthless killer when circumstances required it.

"I've been watching since the two of you got here. You know what I've seen? I've seen everyone in the biolab spit on Jake because he's not Tom, right from Augustine on down. Like its his fault that he's here. Like its his fault that Tom's dead. Like he's deliberately screwed all of you. Shit, Norm, has anyone on the Avatar team walked up to Jake and said 'I'm sorry you lost your brother'? Or are you all too busy feeling insulted?"

Norm had to look away in the face of that accusation because he knew Trudy was absolutely right.

The pilot sighed, "Christ, is it any wonder that he's Quaritch's man, when you guys treat him like crap?"

The scientist was shocked. And guilty.

Trudy looked at her lover with a haunted expression. "You know what a Marine sees when he looks in another marine's eyes? He sees someone who's gone to Hell, crawled through it lengthwise, and come out the other side. Just like he did. Just like I did. That creates a bond between you that nothing can ever break." Her voice got hard. "Jake's my brother, Norm, and you're treating my brother like shit because the Omaticaya bruised your ego by choosing him over you. Jake didn't do anything to you. Get over it."

Norman couldn't help himself; he got indignant, "Now wait a damned minute…."

Trudy cut his protest off viciously. "He's lost his fucking legs, Norm. How many people have the guts to volunteer for Pandora with no goddamned legs? Would you? Or would you sit around and whine and moan or just give up and die like almost anyone else in that position?"

His protest died in his throat.

She glared at her lover, "I've heard you bitch that he has no training."

He started to puff up self-righteously, but the pilot punctured his ego ruthlessly. "Look at it from the other side. He has no legs, no training," she stared at him meaningfully, "no one who's willing to help him at all, and he's doing it. He's succeeding. He's in Hometree, with the Omaticaya. Would you be able to do that, if you were in his position? Would you even try?"

She sighed and lay back down on the bunk, looking up at the ceiling. "I've been watching you throw a hissy fit for the past month like a spoiled brat. You're a better man than that, Norm. But honest to God, if you science guys give a damn about the Na'vi you'd better wake up fast, cause Quaritch sure as hell doesn't."

Norm was shocked – and diverted, "What do you mean? Quaritch wouldn't do anything stupid, would he?"

Trudy was uneasy, "I don't know, but I've got a bad feeling about that man. Reminds me of a pit viper – doesn't make a move for hours then bam, you never saw it coming. And Selfridge," she confessed, "Call it crazy, but I've seen indifference do a hell of a lot more damage than outright hate. I never trust a man who doesn't give a damn about anything. They'll turn on you as easily as on anyone else."

She looked at him with an odd expression. "Norm, you told me you have hundreds of hours in your Avatar. It's old hat to you now, but it wasn't always like that. Think back, remember the first time you ever linked. What did it feel like to have your spirit ripped out of your body?"

He shuddered. It'd been the most frightening – and exhilarating - moment of his life. Despite his eagerness, despite his training, he'd almost lost it. You were changed forever after your first Avatar link – if you survived it. You never looked at your physical body the same way ever again. The 'attitude,' the drivers called it. You could tell just by looking at someone whether they were a driver or not, because they had a body-awareness that no one else had.

Trudy nodded as if he'd answered her question. "They say almost half of potential Avatar drivers are lost in that first link. Their brains or their psyches can't handle it, or they just don't come back. Even with all the training they get put through beforehand." She looked at him with pain in her eyes. "Jake had what, a week to get used to the idea before they shoved him in cryo? Linked the day after he got here, with no training? With all of you breathing fire down his neck? Don't tell me that a bunch of you weren't hoping he'd be lost in that first link either."

She was right. Norman closed his eyes, admitting the truth in her accusation without a word.

"Norm, if the whole point of this project is to get in with the Omaticaya – which Jake has done – then you're throwing away the exact opportunity you'd hoped to create. If there's one thing that gets branded on a Marine's soul, it's that you achieve the mission. Are you going to throw the mission away just because you got your pride hurt? Cause if you are, then I'm in the wrong bunk."

He opened his eyes and looked at his lover with pain written all over his face.

Trudy continued, "Jake's a good man, Norm. He's trying to do what's right. But you haven't been helping him see what that is, and you sure as hell haven't been making it easy for him. If you can't bring yourself to help him, at least leave him alone. Hell, if you bothered to just talk to the man you might even find a friend."

He reached out contritely and took her upper arm in his hand. "You're right. I've been an absolute ass. I'm sorry. I promise, no more hissy fits."

She tilted her head sideways, "You'll stop harassing him? Help him out?"

The scientist promised, "Word of honor. You're right, the mission comes first. Who gets credit for it isn't important."

The brilliant white smile he loved to see broke out over her face, "Now that's what I'm talking about. Knew you were in there somewhere." She rolled over onto him, wrapped her arms around him and kissed him quite thoroughly.

Down the corridor, the link units kept humming quietly.

[panie-wanie-dean-bean]

Something slimy in the mines, you say? Is it fuckable? Will it kill me in a sexy way? April is going to have to stop me from throwing myself down the mines

I'm following April into the mines to see what's up with the slime. If she can sneak into my bed I can sneak into her workplace - Anon

I thought I'd group these together since the people need to know what horrors await them in the mines lol

So, the mines are heavily, heavily, guarded. It's one of the only places in town with actual security cameras and there's a keycard system to make sure only April and Linda can get in. If you manage to swipe on of their cards you can get in though they will see you through the cams eventually after which they'll send in a rescue party, aka April

But, once you're in stuff gets a little funky. It starts out as a regular cave but the deeper down you go there's these patches of pulsating rock. They start small but the farther down you go the more common they are, get even further and the rock starts to fall away from the movement, letting you see the pink fleshy interer of the cave

You might be too caught up with that notice that the mineshaft beams have stopped being wood, white bones like structures hold the cave open for you as you descend even deeper down. The farther you go the stronger a sickly sweet smell becomes, culminating in a large cavernous room

Some of the walls before had eyes but the ones in this room are huge, all of them deferent colors, and all of them trained in on you. There's a rumble in the cave that almost sounds like a large purr as thick, slimy tendrils detach from the walls of the room and slither towards you

It's oddly gentle with you, the tendrils softly petting and hugging you. One glides across your lips, and whether it's because of the amount of slime or your own willingness, it slips into your mouth. You piece together that the scent must have been coming from the slime as a warm sweetness coats your tongue and throat

You begin to squirm as a familiar heat pools in your stomach, the tendril in your mouth only feeding you more of it's slime to help you prepare. More tendrils emerge from the walls, helping you out of your clothes and bringing a nice cooling sensation to your skin as they explore you

They make sure they've got a hold on you before lifting you up towards the ceiling of the cave, the giant eyes looking you over, studying you as it brings you over the edge again and again and again

You pass out eventually, waking up in your own bed as if it was all a dream. But you can feel it's slime still inside you, and the warmth hasn't left. Luck for you your savior April is right there with you, and more than willing to help you clean up

[flaresanimedump]

Ranpo who's madly in love with Fukuzawa but thinks he can't have him. Ranpo devoting his life to Fukuzawa but resigning himself to live the life Fukuzawa infers he should - one day Ranpo will get married and Fukuzawa will retire and they'll only see each other every other weekend and Ranpo will live for those rare moments. He'll accept it when he loses Fukuzawa and go on living.

But every time something really, life-threateningly bad happens he fucks it up. He goes mad and challenges enemies who could crush him if he was just a little less manic, he jeopardizes the things Fukuzawa holds dear, he steps into the line of fire himself rather than let Fukuzawa fall.

After one of these times, after he's nearly died saving Fukuzawa and he hates himself for it because despite his desperation in the moment he knows what his death would do to Fukuzawa, when Fukuzawa's incensed and doesn't understand why he would endanger himself when he knows Fukuzawa would never recover if Ranpo died to save him, after, when he's safe in Fukuzawa's arms again and his own resolutions come crashing back into him too late to matter, the vision finally shatters.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice choked and shaking. "I can't love you the way you want me to."

It's true and he knows it. He can't. He's failed. He'll always throw himself on the fire for Fukuzawa. He can't see him as a shield or a shelter easily cast aside. He can't see him as a guardian to eventually move on from. He's not even a god, just a man who Ranpo can't bare to let go.

Fukuzawa who never really thought all that hard about the way he loved Ranpo, only how best to do so. How best to defend him, how best to support him, how best to build the world around him. How best to clear the path for the life he deserved. How, dear god how, to show him affection as anyone else would.

Fukuzawa who does all of these things to the best of his ability with his whole heart and then some because it feels like something's missing. There's something else he should be doing. Ranpo flourishes but stops short of some things too soon. His eyes linger on a couple holding hands only for him to turn his eyes away, downcast. He never looks interested in anyone, but he stares at couples so longingly Fukuzawa can't help but notice.

When Ranpo moves out he does it with great fanfare and a lot of whining. But it's the heavy weight in his steps that rings in Fukuzawa's ears, a trudge of endurance, of defeat.

And his touch always seems to linger, the glide of his fingers more of a caress at times over Fukuzawa's. There's something delicate and strange to it he's never experienced before. Something longing, but for what he's not sure.

So when Ranpo says I can't love you the way you want me to he doesn't understand. That's exactly how he's always felt, but how he's always felt isn't how Ranpo means it. He can't see how it's even relevant now, when Fukuzawa's quick reflexes were the only thing that kept Ranpo's heart from stopping moments before.

He grips Ranpo's shoulders and shakes him, desperate to make him promise never to do this again. "I don't care what happens to me as long as you survive! You have to let me protect you!"

"I care!" Ranpo shouts back.

Fukuzawa still doesn't understand. People willing to hide behind him, to let him protect them. And there's no one he wants to do it for more than Ranpo. "Why!? Why would it be so hard for you to-"

Ranpo surges up and silences him with a bruising open-mouthed kiss. Fukuzawa tastes salt and fire and brimstone and blood, and when Ranpo pulls away his cheeks are shining with tears.

"I'm sorry." Ranpo says again, his voice tight as Fukuzawa stares at him wide-eyed.

Ranpo burrows his face into Fukuzawa's chest and shakes. Slowly, more out of reflex than thought, Fukuzawa settles a hand on his shoulders.

He's quiet for a long time.

"No," he says at last. "I'm sorry." His hand shifts to stroke Ranpo's head, the other coming around him. "I've been selfish, haven't I?"

[sadmanyeyes]

Chapter 6

At the airport, Yakumo and Pai give their goodbyes to Ling Ling, thanking her for all her help. She tells them that she put a tracer on the Ningen that should work for two years and Huang will back them financially during their search. Ling Ling tells them that if anything comes up, or if Mr. Asuri returns, she'll contact them right away.

They leave back to Japan, Yakumo cooking Pai up some breakfast. He gets her from her room (his room? They're not sleeping together so...) and sees her looking at a picture with him in it. He says it's a photo of him and his friends. They even sent him letters while he was in Hong Kong with Pai. Pai doesn't know what friends are, apparently. Friends are people who threaten to kill you for missing out on a motorcycle trip, it's all rather simple...

He goes off to school, telling her to stay at home and wait for him to come back. As he's on his way there, he wonders out loud how his friends will react if he tells them that he's a super-zombie. Pai watches him...with her third eye opened.

At an assembly, Yakumo does tell his friends...and obviously, they don't believe him, one calling him out for missing the motorcycle trip to give them this super-zombie crap. He tries explaining again...but ultimately gives up and apologizes. When they're willing to let it slide, he starts up again, giving the whole "you have to believe me" spiel. One asks for souvenirs. He gets uppity about it.

Their one female member, Natsuko, greets them outside. She's mad at him but says she's fine with it, saying they have another trip planned for this year. However, Tatsuya (the big friend) says that Yakumo won't be coming because he went into debt while he was in Hong Kong and he totaled his bike. Now Natsuko wants to choke him.

One random panty shot later, the friend group takes Yakumo to a junked up motorbike that someone threw away. Nerdy friend Sayu says he can fix it so everybody, including Yakumo, can go to Karauizawa after all! Remaining friend Hideyoshi says that they'll use his dad's truck to haul the bike out of the heap. Yakumo asks him when he got his license and Hideyoshi huffs that he doesn't need a license; he knows how to drive.

Yakumo smiles, causing Natsuko to ask him what he's so happy about. He says with the way everyone's acting, he feels like he's still a part of the gang. She tells him to cheer up and he leaves, feeling like his life is finally going back to normal...then three-eyed Pai shows up, calling him a fool.

She asks him what happened to his promise to make Pai human. He tells her that it wouldn't have done any good to stay in Hong Kong and he has his own questions for her. Three-Eyed Pai tells him he needs to leave Japan, that he can no longer live as he used to and that staying here will only lead to tragedy. His life is over and will probably not last for more than two weeks. He tells her to fuck off and get out of his life before Natsuko walks up and asks him who he's yelling at. He sees that Three Eyed Pai has disappeared.

Later, Hideyoshi drive the gang around (badly) in his pick-up truck. He blames it on the manual and Yakumo tells him not to kill them before the trip. They should be fine because Tatsuya is giving him the directions...how's that supposed to help his driving is anybody's guess.

Natsuko points out he's being wistful again, like he's going to disappear again. Yakumo doesn't respond before the friends hits a police checkpoint, Hideyoshi worried that they could be suspended...or worse, expelled! Yakumo tells everyone not to panic...and Hideyoshi jumps the divider, trying to flee as the cops see him. Yakumo tries to cover the license plate as they drive off, remembering what Three Eyed Pai told him about his old life not lasting two weeks. He smiles...and tells the others to get away as he throws himself back onto the hood of the cop car, getting ran over.

Everybody stops to pull over and check on him, thinking he's dead. Then we get this lovely image:

He roars at the cops, causing them to run away. He complains about the pain as he regenerates...and reiterates to his friends that he's a super-zombie, telling them they can go now.

The chapter ends with them riding in the pick-up truck, Yakumo oblivious to how freaked out everyone is as he brags about how they got away.

[soulofgenocide]

Demonic Trespassing

Genocide's head shot up from his desk, the Soul in his human form letting out a groan as his nice nap was interrupted by a scent entering his domain. He groaned in annoyance and wiped away a bit of drool, pressing his fingers to his temple as he could already feel the headache coming. It was always the same tale, always the same bullshit no matter how many warnings were sent, posted, or screamed into their ears there was always Demons trying to kill or tame Genocide to climb in power. The Soul kicked open the asylum's doors to see a small group of lesser demons, lead by what he assumed was either some noble or decently ranked military general that was almost double his size, but all that got him was a yawn.

"You are violating the Blood Infernus pact and are being warned to leave the area immediately, any actions other than your immediate retreat will be taken as a hostile act."

One of the lesser demons approached Genocide and the Soul let out a sigh, already seeing the cocky smirk on their face and sensing this was going to become a laundry day.

"Show some respect! You are in the presence-"

Genocide placed his head on top of the little demon's head gently to make him quiet down, and with a small smile the Soul rammed his fist through their throat and severed the head by purely blunt impact. He watched the headless corpse fall over and then raised the head to his lips, taking a violent, loud, and disgusting chomp out of the flesh on it before tossing it back to his friends.

"According to the Blood Infernus pact, if hostile actions are performed by demonic beings within the territory of any Soul, that Soul is free to eliminate anything deemed a nuisance. You are all, a nuisance, I was fucking sleeping."

The lesser demons began to move, full of fear but willing to do anything to climb the ranks they charged at Genocide, however it would've been more effective to search for and throw rocks at him. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven little Demons were torn in two and tossed across the yard as decoration as the Soul yawned again and stood before the only remaining, the higher 'noble'.

"Why both sides choose to annoy me when I've said I'll leave both be if they do the same for me is beyond me, is the education that shit in Hell?"

"There will be consequences if you harm me."

As the noble spoke Genocide mimicked them with his right hand, a blank and tired look staring up into their eyes as it then turned to a middle finger.

"Wage war over some dipshit that ignored all warnings and tried to violate a peace pact? Yeah. Surely that's what they'll do."

When the noble went to speak again Genocide knocked their left leg out from under them, sending them toppling backwards with him jumping onto their chest immediately after. Once again their mouth went to move except this time Genocide grabbed their jaw, snapped it free and used their own bottom teeth to ram through their throat. A mess of torn flesh and quiet gurgles was all that was left as he climbed back off, taking a piece of torn cheek for a snack. Removing it from his mouth for a moment he blew a kiss towards the sky, before snickering and going back into the asylum to nap again.

[angryhausfrau-writes]

I Travel Troubled Oceans: Chapter 28 - In Which Everything is Going Splendidly

Charles nods to the young Black boy who has been guarding the entrance to the underground fight ring the last few times he's gone. There's a scar marking him as a member of a street gang on his collar bone, just barely visible above the ratty white vest he's wearing. The boy is too young to be an enforcer just yet, can't be more than thirteen or so, but Charles would bet that's where he's headed. Guard duty sometimes involves turning away idiots who've been banned for one reason or another, and that sometimes requires hitting them with a tire iron, or the baseball bag the kid's got leaning against the wall next to him. Makes for good training.

He gets nodded through by “security” and Charles feels the scar above his own clavicle pull as he heaves open the rusty scissor gate on the freight elevator that leads down to the maintenance basement where this nights fight is happening. The office park has been abandoned since it was half-built as part of the speculative real estate boom in the 80s, right before construction was halted during the subsequent crash in the 90s, and it's one of the been in bankruptcy limbo ever since.

See, Charles has been picking up some new property valuation skills over the past year or so and it's become like second nature to assess whatever rotting hulk of a warehouse or car park or office tower he ends up in, even though they're not particularly interested in corporate spaces. And the return in investment on a place as rundown as this wouldn't make it worth it even if they were.

Charles descends into the musty depths, past mildew streaked walls and industrial lighting. Every other bulb appears burnt out or broken, even behind the metal cage guarding each light, and much of the descent is in darkness. When he reaches the sub-basement, it's not much better. Emergency lighting illuminates the cracked and water stained corridor before he's spit out into the vast, open, empty sub basement. Shop lights have been strung up in a corner, and all the street toughs and gangsters have congregated there, waiting to beat the everloving shite out of each other.

He greats the few he knows well enough for casual drinks down the pub. And a few who are as close to rivals as he knows anymore. The ones who want to throw themselves at him to see if he'll eventually break. To see if there's a crack in his defenses, to see if he's weak, the way he was always afraid ofbeing.

They generally end up broken instead, crawling off to whatever stinking hole they're squatting in to lick their wounds before trying again next week.

He doesn't blame them. He did the same thing when he was starting out. Half-starved and wild and willing to get himself beaten half to death just to prove himself to the man who held his leash.

And maybe someday they'll turn on their leader, their master, the same way Charles did, and be free.

He also tries to greet some of the newcomers that have been showing up the last couple of months. They're mostly from the Bahamas and it might help sell their cover as former residents of the islands if they're friendly. Plus Max likes any intel he can get on new gangs forming to fill the power vacuum left by him and Flint, and to a lesser extend, Jack. Jack who had handed control of his little drug empire over to one of his smarter and less addicted pushers, who's running things pretty much same as usual unless Jack makes a special request for them to attend this or that party. But that doesn't mean the chosen successor will actually be a success and Charles tries to keep an ear to the street during fight nights. Toughs are as inclined to gossip as anyone, in his experience.

Except the Bahamians, who pretty much stick to themselves and don't seem inclined to talking much even then.

They do seem to be keeping an eye on Charles, though, as much as he keeps an eye on them. Subtle glances from across the room, blink and you'll think you imagined it. Caught only out of the corner of your eye, but glaringly obvious if you know what you're looking at.

They're sizing him up for some reason. And he doesn't think it has anything to do with the fighting tonight.

But Max says they're nothing to worry about. She still has her finger on the pulse of the street. Still owns it. All the pickpockets and cutpurses. All the street corner pushers. Mid-level gang bosses pay tribute to her, and she's starting to get her grip on the white collar criminals and the government officials they own, thanks to their new identities as respectable people. So if Max says don't worry about it, Charles won't. And instead he'll lose himself in the calm he feels before the rush of blood and adrenaline of a fight.

Councilor Featherstone shuffled another application for planning permission from the friend of an enemy to the bottom of the ever-growing stack. Ordered an ecological impact survey to be conducted for one proposed building site in Wales and waived it for another.

Life was good. He had a beautiful, loving wife. A large, well decorated home in a fashionable suburb, usually reserved for Westminster types – or minor nobles. His neighbor was a baronet! They nodded regally to one another in passing! He was finally getting the sort of recognition a person of his position deserved.

The bribes. The fancy dinners. The consulting fees for do-nothing jobs on various boards and committees. The friends (Jack) in high places, able to connect him to the world of wealth and privilege he'd only been able to dream of before. The sort of wealth and privilege he'd only been able to rub shoulders with as he'd stammered and stuttered his way through long dinners with department heads who all knew each other from their posh grammar schools.

Now he's able to hold his own during those long, boring dinners. Now he has people hanging on his every word.

Yes, life was good. And he owed it all to Jack.

Jack who had a head for business, and real estate investment in particular, that was nigh uncanny. Every investment a hit. Every piece of property picked up for a song and turned around at a monumental profit. A profit he got to share in.

Every piece of planning permission he signed off on, rubber stamped, moved to the head of the queue just got him a bigger slice of the pie. A pie Lord Hamilton had never been particularly inclined to share, keeping the payout for himself and fuck everyone who actually made any of his little deals happen.

Featherstone thumps his heavy antique desk (a gift from Jack) with his heavy antique gold ring (another gift from Jack) and pushes Lord Hamilton and his unreasonable attitude out of his mind. Yes, things were looking up with new business partners – who treated him like a real partner – and the future seems brighter still.