#is the musk to cover it up?? does he KNOW???? i have questions

[lazylittledragon]

wait wait wait hold on a second. hold on a fucking second.

so the scent of the hells is described as ‘sulphuric’, and yurgir identifies raphael from smelling “cherries, musk and sulphur”

if you’ve never smelled sulphur before it’s a very specific rotten egg smell which means raphael is walking around trying to be all smooth while smelling like a fart

[slushycoookie]

Can't Sleep

Relationship: Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader

Word Count: 1,643

Content: Smut (forreal this time), vaginal fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, Minors DNI!

Summary: You can't sleep and are a little horny. So you decide to bother your husband.

A/N: Took me a bit to write this one. Only because I wasn't sure how to end it lol

You couldn't sleep.

Your eyes landed on the clock for the fifth time tonight. The time never changed. It was half past 11 on a Friday night and your husband wasn't home.

Hands felt his side of the bed in longing. He was working late tonight. There were things he had to finish up. He said five hours ago. Now, you were restless and perhaps a little horny. It was your own fault. Your mind started to race as you imagined Miguel coming home to you. Wanting to release the stress Spider Society gave him. So he towered over you in bed, having his way with you by covering you with kisses and rough touches. Hearing you whine as his touch was driving you crazy. Feeling his hardened cock against your thigh. He was as desperate as you by grinding on you.

You sat up, throwing the sheets away. Your body was getting warm at your rampant thoughts. No point in sleeping now. You checked the time once more, only a minute going by. Miguel would still be up, right? The man you loved was a major workaholic. You wanted to make sure he didn't overwork himself.

That's what your goal was when you put on your pajama bottoms. Shoving your feet into your pair of Spider-Man slippers and donning a simple gray jacket. You went into the bedside drawer and pulled out the watch Miguel gave you. He said it was for emergencies, but you and him knew you were going to use it for more than that.

You portaled right outside his lab, tiptoeing through the dark to see your partner on the platform. He was watching all of the monitors in total concentration. Still alert and wide awake.

“It's late.” His voice boomed through the room. You could never not be amazed at his enhanced senses. “Why are you still here?”

Before you could speak to let him know it was you, Miguel's eye cut over and an instant shift. His face softened, delighted to see you. The look caused your heart to flip. He lowered the platform, striding over to embrace you. His musk filled your nostrils, not helping your increased arousal at all.

Miguel pulled away, gesturing towards your outfit, “What's this?”. You probably should've worn something sexier.

“I couldn't sleep. So I got up and wanted to see you.” You said while holding his hand.

He glanced down at your slippers and sucked his teeth, “Did you have to wear those?”

“Yes.” You rolled your feet in the comfortable footwear.

You did your questioning like every good partner does. Asked him how work was, if he ate dinner, and whatever errands needed to be done tomorrow. Before you did what you really wanted to do.

You were high up on the platform so you were used to heights. While Miguel finished up reports as he promised you he was almost done, you hugged him from behind. You held back in smirking at the way his back muscles tensed up. Your hands flat against his abdomen.

“What are you doing?”

“Hugging you.” You rubbed your chin against his back. “Is it distracting you?”

“No…”

You waited for Miguel to resume his duties before running your hands along his stomach. Feeling his abs made you roll your eyes back. Your hands caressed him as if trying to put his muscles to memory. One thing you knew about your husband was his erogenous zones. He loved being touched on his neck, his lower back, and around his navel. So you circled the latter slowly. Nail dragging against his suit with ease.

He let out a low sigh, his movements faltering when he swiped a monitor away. You wanted to go lower. Feel him getting hard at your little touches. You held back, planting a gentle kiss on his back. You stopped circling his navel before maneuvering to the side. You ignored the eye glance he gave you as you were in front of him now, taking an interest in his work.

“All of these reports have to be signed off?”

Your body formed goosebumps when Miguel's hand landed on your hip, the other signing off the digital documents. “Yes. My least favorite part of the job. It's so tedious.”

You hummed at the valid annoyance he gave you, backing up a little against his chest. His arousal pressed against your back. He wasn't fully hard yet but it was working.

“Do you…want me to help?” Your head tilted back to gaze at him. His reddish-brown eyes stood out from the dim light. “It's just making a signature, right?”

Miguel cleared his throat, “It's more than that. You have to read the report first to make sure it's viable and-” He stopped when your ass shifted against him, still gazing at him with wide eyes. The grip on your waist tightened. You got him right where you want him.

“And? What else?” You asked, a glint of curiosity in your voice.

He pursed his lips, “Never mind that. What are you doing now?”

“Nothing.” You batted your eyelashes. “I wanna help you finish your work faster.”

“Sure…” His tone tinted with annoyance, but his lips formed a smirk. “Since when did you care about my reports?”

“Since forever.” You shrugged it off, begging him to have you help. He obliged, allowing you to place the reports in a folder he created when he was finished. And you did. Being a good partner who’s supportive. Who occasionally rubs their ass against his cock.

He got a little rub each time you put a report in the folder. A tiny one, enough to make him pause. While his hand was still on your hip. Each time you rolled your bottom against him, the hand squeezed your flesh. He didn’t permit you to stop either. So you kept going.

The reports were soon ignored. Heavy breaths filled the room as Miguel was rolling his hips against yours. Creating a perfect rhythm as he humped against you. He bent you over against the console. You looked back to watch his face lower at seeing your bodies flush against each other. He was so attractive like that.

To your surprise, Miguel grabbed the nape of your neck, pushing you down as he rutted against you. “Help me with reports, my ass. I know what you really wanted…” You hummed at his hand squeezing your plump cheeks.

“A-And? What did I really want?”

To answer your question, he pulled off your pj bottoms, throwing them and those slippers he hated away. Your underwear was with it, leaving you bare from the waist down. His large fingers dipped down, slicking himself with your arousal. The hand gripping your neck slid down your back, under your shirt. Stroking your back as he played with your sex. Pumping two fingers in and out of you.

“Jesus…” He grunted, “All of this for me?”

You arched your back, reveling in his rough fingers handling you like it was nothing. His thumb brushed against your clit occasionally, not giving you enough stimulation you needed.

“Miguel…stop playing…”

“Shh, mi amor. Esto es reembolso para ti jugando conmigo (This is payback for you messing with me).”

You whined at the mercy of your partner and his teasing touches. You should've said you wanted to fuck outright. But he was being nice, giving more attention to your sensitive bud. His slick fingers glide along you with ease. The hand that was on your back went around to grope your breast. Pinching your nipple as he kept rubbing you. You were so close, on the brink of climaxing. But he stopped, earning a cry from you.

“No! Why did you-?”

A sharp thrust inside made you gasp. Large hands landed on your hips to pull you even closer to his body. Miguel's hard chest pressed against your back, his face buried in your head.

“Fuck.” He groaned as if he was experiencing you for the first time. Your mouth gaped as he pulled out completely before slamming himself back in. His large thighs hitting your ass repeatedly with each thrust.

This is what you wanted. What you imagined all night. To have your husband fuck you silly.

Grunts and moans filled the lab. You only hoped that no one was in HQ, or you and he would be in a rude awakening tomorrow. Miguel was a force to be reckoned with. Each powerful thrust makes you submit to him more and more. He knew what to do as he reached around to play with your clit after each thrust.

“Yeah…just like that…” You whimpered, feeling your impending release rising. You couldn't move as he had you trapped with his large body. Causing you to submit to him.

“Come on, nena. Let go for me.” Miguel grunted in your ear, not stopping his touches. Your eyes rolled back, back arched as you squeezed around his cock without warning.

Miguel stuttered, feeling your walls contort to him, not expecting you to climax so quickly. But he wasn't far behind, pounding into you to provide himself some relief. Your name came out of his lips strained as his seed filled you up inside. Tiny thrusts into you to make sure you got it all. His face nuzzled into your neck as he held you, soft kisses on your nape.

The two of you caught your breath in silence. Only the hum from his workstation filling your ears.

“Let's go home.” Another kiss to your head as he started handing you your clothes. He helped you put on your underwear and bottoms as you stumbled to his side.

“Are you sure? I thought you had more work to do.”

Miguel shook his head, pulling you to him as he created a portal back to your place. “I'll finish it later.”

[lisztomaniqcc]

!! 18+ MDNI !!

cw: fem reader, stepcest, stepdad!price, age gaps (early 20's - early 50's), puppy hybrid!reader, short reader, musk kink, cockwarminh, consensual somno, breeding kink, hairy dad bod price !!

stepdad!price who's infatuated with puppy hybrid! reader, always eating her out until she cries !! she's so dumb and airheaded and doesn't understand that it's wrong bcs it makes her stepdad happy and her puppy parts all tingly !!

stepdad!price who bends her over his lap to inspect her tiny puppycunt to make sure she's not fooling around with any icky boys !! making sure that she knows he'll be able to tell bcs of her broken hymen (poor dumb thing doesn't realise that can't happen :(()

he's so obsessed with how her tail goes all rigid when she cums, overstimulating her on a vibe all the time just to see it happen !!

he knows its wrong, she's barely even 20 and he's in his 50's, but if he wants a healthy litter he needs to pump her fertile womb with his seed !!

stepdad!price who lets her hump her cunnie on his hairy and squishy tummy, letting her overstimulate herself and cover him in her cream :((

she constantly has her head in his neck or armpits after he works out, going all dumb with how heady and masculine he smells :((

he only ever fucks her ass because she's just too precious to pop her cherry now, not when they're not married :(( he still has her mother to deal with, once she's out of the question he'll spend weeks breeding her and making sure she's stuffed full of his cum, she'll give him a nice and healthy litter of pups !! all swollen and pregnant from his seed :((

always fucking her full nelson and standing to show her how tiny she is compared to him :(( he's so big and muscular and hairy :((

letting her give him sloppy kissed because she's so inexperienced and does know how to kiss him properly :((

cockwarms him on her knees, his length impaled into her throat, her head on his thigh as he strokes her puppy ears and hair, not moving as she falls asleep, waking her up by violently thrusting up into her, watching as she gags and moans around him <33

forcing her into prone bone and putting her into a headlock, her cheeks squished against his massive biceps as she squirts repeatedly, the plug of her womb being mashed and abused :(( his hairy and squishy tummy settling on her back perfectly as his weight forces her into place :3

he always gets her to sit on his lap so he can finger her, only ever using his ring and middle finger with his palm up, it's the easiest way to stir up her puppycunt and find that little reset button in her that has her drooling and cumming !!

stepdad price! that always looks so proud when she's worshiping his cock :((

"Tha's it luv, such a good girl f'me huh..?"

"Ffffuucckkk, gag on my cock like that again, c'mon, i know you can do it, such a dumb girl f'me"

(i have no clue what this is 😽 unedited ofc)

[raindotdrop]

🔞 vergil x reader | whole new breed

‧₊˚♡ summary: you were turned into a devil to save your life after a fatal attack. adapting to this new form has been okay⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯until you experience your first heat.

‧₊˚♡ word count: 2.2k

‧₊˚♡ content & warnings: smut | fem reader | piv | heat cycles | fluffy, they're in love | first time writing smut after reading so many hahahah hii

The transformation you underwent from human to devil, it was never meant to happen. You didn't know it could happen.

You were meant to die months ago, but your lover didn't allow that.

It was a brutal mission. While your fellow hunters were panicking, already grieving you⎯it took Vergil minutes to recite an ancient ritual. The man sacrificed his own flesh like it was nothing, then watched you rise from your bloody spot on the ground, ready to rejoin the fight.

He reduced fate to a joke that day, spitting into death's embrace for trying to claim you. Claiming you is his job.

Your devilish transition has been relatively easy. You look the same, sound the same, act the same. Really, the only difference is your strength. Nothing feels heavy or tiring to you anymore, nothing hurts.


Except for one thing.

Does it hurt? You aren't sure. It's... distracting, if you had to describe it. Day by day, you've been feeling more feverish. Needy, lonely, grumpy, dripping. You've forgotten the names of everyone else in your life because Vergil is dominating your foggy thoughts.

He's been working for days straight now, leaving you to worsen in your shared bed. Normally, he answers your every demon-related question and tends to you, but he's gone.

Without him present, the mere thought of him leaves you humping whatever smells like him the most. His pillow is drenched in your fluids, his clothes held up to your nose as you orgasm.

An obscene amount of slick pours from between your legs at all times, to the point where you've ditched bottoms. Your nipples are too sensitive to be covered, too. If it's fabric and not your fingers then it hurts.

Something is definitely wrong, but you don't care about all that human side versus demon side junk. You want Vergil. You don't want this frenzy to end on its own, you want him to come home and fuck it out of you.

On his side of the bed, everything is soaked. You're pathetically attempting to finger yourself at different angles and speeds because you're praying you can replicate the way he does it. Laying flat on the sheets is how you've chased your past few highs, any other position is too much of a chore.

His scent is growing stronger, your fingers pump in and out as you're buried face down in a pair of his boxers. The musk is so powerful all of a sudden, it's as if he's there. You're cumming from the intensified smell alone, shaking harder than you have in hours. Nobody warned you about the sensitivity your senses would develop.

Before you even lift your head from the bed, you're blindly reaching out for another piece of clothing to destroy. Someone grabs your wrist before you can.

With a jolt, you look up, and none other than Vergil is looking down at you. He seems to be studying you moreso than anything else.

"So I was off. I predicted your cycle would strike next week, not now..." he muses aloud, but you barely understand him. Despite Vergil being the one to grab your wrist, you've turned the tides so you're clinging onto him instead, both hands gripping him. Almost in disbelief, as if letting go means he'll vanish.

You roll onto your back using his arm as an anchor, revealing your glistening breasts to him. You're trying to tug him down onto you to no avail, whining rather than greeting him. You blink up at him, as he observes the way you leak like a waterfall from his proximity.

"Beautiful," that word kills you inside. You keep yanking at his arm, animalistically, your demonic side obscures every single word you've learned. "I would have relieved you days ago, had I known. Well, I⎯⎯"

"Vergil!" you cry out in frustration, the only word on your tongue.

Pity flashes on his features when he sees how much discomfort you must be in. Vergil had taken up extra work so he could free up his schedule during your first heat. It pains him to see his incorrect calculations lead to this.

Of course, it makes his pants feel tight and fills him with almost as much desire as you (if that's possible), but he wishes he could have guided you through every single step with care, not be invisible while your heat worsened. You must have been so confused...

"Vergil, please!" you snap him from his thoughts. Propped up on your elbows now, your eyes are watering. Sobbing, almost, and you're sucking on his fingers.

Every cell in your body craves him so much, it feels like you're going to explode. The confusion you felt from your heat's onslaught is long gone, replaced with a 'this is so right' feeling the moment Vergil entered the room.

His wet fingers pop from your mouth and stroke your cheek, coating you in your saliva. The affection in that gesture is your saving grace, you know he's going to please you from that touch alone.

"Alright. I won't keep you waiting." he says, his tone is more gravelly now that he's fully realized what he's going to do. This was unexpected, but he isn't objecting whatsoever.

Your body is so sensitive from the amount of climaxes you've inflicted on yourself, that when Vergil begins to shrug his coat off, you can't tell if you actually just orgasmed from the sight or not. The pulses around your body intensify as he reveals his bare arms to you. Do you want to watch him strip, or are you so impatient you want him to just fucking take you already with his clothes barely hanging on? It's unclear. You begin to paw at his thighs, trying to shred the fabric off.

"Eager little thing..." he coos, swatting your hands away so he can undress with no obstacles. He's stripping faster than ever before, but to you, it feels like he's moving in slow motion. Every second that he's not inside of you feels like a thousand years of emptiness. "I'm here now, don't worry." Despite his reassurances, he's the one who's worried, hoping you aren't in any pain.

Once his cock springs out, leaking precum from the feral sight enticing him, you lunge at it. Instantly, the whole length is wrapped around your lips. You're too distracted to properly suck him off, shaky hands touching him with no rhyme or reason.

Vergil chuckles. "Now, this isn't about me," he says, knotting his fingers in your hair so he can pull your mouth off. You put up quite a fight, common sense clouded by desire. Your mouth isn't the hole that's begging for him, it's just the nearest one, so it reaches in without thinking.

"We have time for that another day." The force he had to apply, it has you tumble backwards on the bed. Gasping on your back, you're already kicking at the air, aching to be close again. Drool stains your chin because you just tasted him after imagining it for so long and your body is screaming for seconds.

You see him sitting at the foot of the bed, fully bare. The sheets beneath him are coated in your release. His precum joins the mix as he rakes over your figure, mind racing with thoughts of how he can tame you when you're like this. It's a challenge that leaves his cock straining in the air.

He sternly says your name right before you try crawling back, and you freeze.

"Lay back."

The authority in his tone gets through to you, so you rest your back on the damp pillows. It takes every ounce of self control not to clamber over to him, but you know he's a man who should be listened to.

"Good girl." You twitch. He notices. "I'll fix this. Allow me,"

Relaxing in this state is impossible, but as you lean backward, the shaking in your body eases up. He kneels in front of your quivering form, still searching for any signs of pain, knowing how long your heat was left unchecked.

Your devil side is shrieking at you to touch him, but your human side finally triumphs over it, laying back so he can ravage you. Stilling yourself, breaths steadying...

An experimental hand of Vergil's rubs at your folds and all that progress is undone. You arch into the mass of pillows behind you, whimpering out, "Vergil.. please, more..!"

"I have to see if you're ready." his stern tone remains, guiding you through this the way he always intended to.

He gathers up slick, feeling you up. Obviously, you're wet enough for him to fold you over and pound you right there, but he still has to confirm for himself. Your comfort matters so much to him, even like this. Once he realizes the extent of your wetness, the fact your pussy has been getting stuffed all day, something primal ignites within him.

"I am... please, I'm so.." your begging doesn't even make sense, but the sweet sound of it nearly has Vergil trip over his words, betraying the composed way he presents himself.

"Yes, you're ready. The things you must have done before I arrived..." he trails off, having to stop himself because that imagery is dangerous territory. "You'll have to show me, next cycle."

His toned arms position themselves near your neck, a snug embrace that you nuzzle into. He wants to hold you if he's going to ruthlessly breed you, never letting you forget how much he loves you.

If only he knew that every moment you're alive is a personal reminder of his devotion, whether he's there or not. His ritual, his sacrifice, his refusal to let you die is why you're here. His love for you transcends biology and reality itself. Human or devil, you're his.

His tip smacks at your entrance and it sends you spiralling. His eyes are fixed on your face, so it takes some positioning to find your hole. He's a demon too⎯the way your face is coated in tears, slick, plus a mixture of his spit and yours, drives him absolutely wild and he has to inhale your scent just like you did with his boxers.

"So beautiful," he echoes his previous words as he buries himself to the hilt, your walls all but absorbing him. The tears of joy that stream down your cheeks are kissed away by his busy lips. You begin to utter out a 'please', which he swallows right up. "No need to beg, I'll give you everything."

He kisses you like a man starved, fucking you hard into the mattress. His upper and lower halves work in tandem to make up for lost time, whispering praises and consuming you.

He doesn't have to hold back anymore with your newfound demonic endurance. To say he's drilling you is an understatement. Everything feels shaky but so right. The sensitivity of your heat-riddled body already has you clenching and cumming around him. Less than a minute in, and you're not ashamed. You're already trying to embrace the next one.

"Let it out," he grunts into your jaw, peppering kisses to it to mask his own sounds. He wants to focus on you, not him. Vergil tells himself you'll receive five climaxes minimum before he comes close to his, but you're making it difficult for him. "Let it all out, that's it... let me care for you, my vixen."

One arm holds you close, but the other has a more important role down at your clit. It rubs circles into the nub, and you're fluttering around his cock again. You feel his length twitch uncontrollably in response, on the verge of emptying himself inside you.

Vergil knows he can't actually impregnate you unless in his devil trigger form. He spent time researching how this moment will unfold for you.

"You'll be safe," is how he expresses this to you, unable to hold back any longer.

You're breathless when your walls are splattered with his seed. He spurts and spurts with no sign of stopping⎯your heat absolutely impacts the one you mate with, you discover.

As you're filled, he pulls himself out so the stream of cum can reach your torso as well. Your stomach leading up to your breasts is coated, then your expressive face. If a body part exists, it's marked by him. Vergil's grunts grow louder than your lustful cries for one singular second before he bites your neck to muffle them.

The fire inside of you feels quenched for a few seconds, like you can finally resume your daily life, before it snaps right back to being unbearable.

You rub yourself against Vergil's weeping cock, silently begging for another round. It's not enough. Will anything be enough? You don't see an ending to this rut, just an urgent dream of Vergil stuffing you again. His cum trickling out isn't a finality, it's lubrication for the rest of the night.

Picking up on your unrest, he repositions his hips with ease. "You and I will be here a while," there's another nip to your neck to accompany the rocking of his hips, "best to get comfortable."

[simpjaes]

how about jealousbf!heeseung who takes you to the empty soundproof vocal rooms and stuffs you full with no mercy after you looked at jay a little too much while they were doing their dance practice

tags: front man heeseung, wannabe groupie reader, he's not her bf !! non idol au, they're just in a band !!

wc: 1k

looking at jay was never an issue until heeseung was looking at you.

who would blame you though? it's not your fault Sunghoon always brought you to band practices. it's not your fault that Heeseung never really paid attention to you before they managed to finesse their way onto a label.

then again, it's not like you knew that Heeseung was always looking. You always seemed to share a gaze between him and everyone else too, so it wasn't really a competitive thing until he noticed you consistently looking at jay more and more.

Hah, always the fucking guitar players too. What do they have that he doesn't? Aside from skilled fingers?

Arguably, Heeseung's fingers are quite skilled too. Just because he's the front man doesn't mean he can't fuck like a guitarist.

So, well, it all really started when you didn't show up. It's rare that you don't, honestly, and all the members seem to miss you when you're not there but man.

Jay sure is a fucking asshole.

"I think she wants me." He joked that one day, nudging Sunghoon and watching them both nod in confirmation that yeah, it's probably true.

"I could take her into one of the soundproof rooms, none of you would even know." he said on that same day, giving Heeseung the idea to do it first.

After all, it's not like he hasn't seen you disappear into sticky bathrooms or dingy band van's at several small town shows with other bands and their members. Why would he be any different? Why would Jay be any different?

Exactly. You're a wannabe groupie and Heeseung is far too willing to feed into your fantasy of fucking a rock star now rather than later.

Jay likes the chase. Heeseung likes the hunt.

And so, that next "practice?" Of course you showed up. Bright eyes, slutty outfit, doe eyes blinking in awe at a bunch of guys who haven't even debuted past a burned CD with shit sound quality? Heeseung approaches you.

Being the front man and all, it's not hard to get you alone as the members take their time doing their own work on the new song. Heeseung's vocals were all finished, and Jay was too wrapped up in his guitar solo recording to notice you eye fucking him again.

"Welcome back, we missed you last time." Heeseung starts in a sweet voice, opening his arms out for a hug.

You kind of quirk your brow at him because, well, you've known the dude for like two years by this point but never has he done more than an awkward side hug while covered in sweat and the scent of musk and alcohol after a show or a hard practice session.

"Oh?" You question, surprised by the grip he holds on you.

"Wanna come with me somewhere?" He asks again, even though the question felt more like a demand in the way he immediately starts dragging you away from the recording studio and into the hallway.

You don't really say much, being more of a go-with-the-flow person than anything. You just shrug, following him into what you obviously know is one of the sound proof rooms they've used previously to practice the noise music.

Working out the kinks of a song doesn't always sound so good, yknow? Nobody really wants to hear that shit til it's ready either.

And it's not like you're stupid or anything. You know what this is, when he steps inside and closes the door behind you. In fact, you're entirely down for it despite not really knowing why the band's front man suddenly wants to be alone with you.

"Hah," Heeseung smirks, watching you already start to slip your shirt off. "I knew it."

You just kind of look at him.

"Well, what else would I expect after being dragged in here?" You ask, pausing your movements and allowing your shirt to fall back into place against your waist.

"I don't know?" He laughs back, rolling his eyes at you briefly before boxing you up against the wall. "Jay?"

You smirk.

"Honestly? Yeah. We've been eye fucking each other for ages." You laugh, brushing Jay off entirely. "Didn't expect you to be the one to come after me."

"Well, if you would have stopped staring at his fingers for thirty seconds maybe you would have noticed it."

"What can I say? He moves fast."

"And you think I would? You've seen what I can do with my tongue, right?"

You pause, noting all those instances during shows where he definitely treated his tongue like some sort of mating ritual. Licking up his microphone, flicking it between his fingers, even going as far as flattening it at multiple city girls that seemed to want a bad boy for the night.

"Don't think I have, actually." You roll your eyes playfully, blinking at him innocently. "Care to elaborate?"

Man, he elaborated.

Without another word, actually. Which was a bit of a shock to you, considering he likes to rasp those vocals all night through song and shrieks. Ah, the sounds are so much different vibrating when his tongue is buried into you, moving faster than you'd have expected.

What's worse? You never really noticed how pretty his vocals could sound until he was muttering out words of degradation towards you. He went in raw, explaining that it's his right. That he should be the first to feel your pussy squeeze him dry. Whispers questions of how many other men have been in you like this. Asking if you've always been this breathless for them. Asking why you're not screaming loud enough for Jay to hear, even through the soundproof room.

In reality, your throat is dry from allowing yourself to be loud for him. Rasping and panting confirmations of his filthy words, only to feel him plunge into you harder, harder, harder. Like a mantra of a song he only wishes he could write.

The proof of having you before Jay could, the proof of fucking you better than anyone else could.

By the end of it all, to Heeseung? Doesn't really matter if every other member of his band has a turn with you know. He's only gonna ask what his dick tastes like. He's only gonna ask if they fucked you cross eyed too. Because he knows the answer will be no.

Why?

Because you keep coming back for more. Up until Jay takes note, mentioning a month later to Sunghoon, right there in front of everyone,

"What's gotten into her? She practically ignores me."

And of course Heeseung smirked, giving him the answer he probably didn't want to hear.

"Me."

[marionthegeek]

Stede is in the Gravy Basket, Izzy is Alive

The season 2 finale of Our Flag Means Death is odd.  It hits weird. I think I know why. And this is going to sound bananas, but give me a chance to explain.  Maybe you’ll agree.

It has a huge tonal shift. It seems to speedrun Stede and Ed’s romance. It feels like we’ve missed out on something from the end of episode 7.  The fight scenes and pirate plans are nonsensical, even for OFMD. And most egregiously, a prominent character is killed off in a way that feels disingenuous to his story arc, just for starters.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.  We need to go back to the beginning of season 2.  The season opens with Stede looking more piratey than ever. Beard, sash, earring… oh he’s his own fantasy of a real proper pirate.  He’s clashing swords with Izzy Hands and demanding to know where Ed is. He’s dreaming. In the dream he kills Izzy. He and Ed run into each other’s arms while screaming each other’s names. They crash into the surf. Ed says “I knew you’d find me, Babe.  I knew you’d find me, Love.” Stede keeps asking if they’re good. Ed dodges the question. Then Ed asked about the smell. Stede wakes up in a crowded room with farting and shushing roommates.

At first I thought the finale was supposed to be just a “satisfying” mirror to Stede’s dream. Stede and Ed call each other’s names and run into each other’s arms in a display that resembles a more grown up version of Stede’s dream fantasy. There’s some wild sword fighting not unlike Stede’s dream duel with Izzy. And Izzy dies.

It does mirror, but I didn’t find it satisfying. All of the characters except Stede feel flattened. Stede gets to make the heroic plan (that we never even hear) while there’s at least five pirates with better skill sets for it in the room. Ed, as Blackbeard, was described last season as “History’s greatest tactician”; Zheng Yi Sao conquered China; Jackie just took out a room full of British soldiers. Izzy and Auntie are right there. You could make arguments that Jim or Frenchie, or pretty much anyone could make a better plan. Then Stede says “It’s only suicide if we die,” which is horrible considering the plan gets Izzy killed.

Stede’s really the only person in that room who thinks Stede should be making the plans.  So I got to thinking, what if it's not just mirroring the dream? What if it is a dream? Last shot of episode 7 is an incoming cannonball. Maybe he’s unconscious.

Huge shout out to @Arty_Sunflowers on twitter (I’m not calling it X, fuck Musk) for pointing out that that isn’t the only episode that ends with a cannonball. Episode 2 ends with Jim swinging a cannonball down at Ed’s head.  Stede’s not just dreaming, he’s in the Gravy Basket!!!! (Stede even screams “Oh my God!” at the end of episode 7 in the same tone he screams “Oh my God, I don’t want to die.” in s1e9.

Stede’s hopes, dreams, and insecurities shape everything in the finale. And it helps explain the absurdities in the episode when you remember that Stede is living out pulp adventure and romance novels in his head. (He even looks like someone on the cover of one in his episode 1 dream.) But Stede can’t be dead, you say. He’s literally the main character. Well, Ed was dead for a whole episode. Let’s take a closer look.

I could and probably will do another essay on Lucius as a POV character and Ed’s mental health and how the threads they seemed to have dropped aren’t as dropped as they appear. But all of that hinges on me proving the Stede is in the Gravy Basket theory. So for this essay I’m focusing on that.

So for starters we’ve got the cannonball scenes. They’re eerily similar even if the method of cannonball propulsion is different. We don’t know Ed is dead and in the Gravy Basket for about half of episode 3. Neither does he. It makes logical sense you can be there without realizing it for a while. Buttons even said Ed didn’t know whether he was in the Gravy Basket or not in episode 4. It definitely messes with your reality.

One of Ed’s issues is self hate. He manifests Hornigold as his companion. Stede is desperate to be a good pirate and have people be proud of him. And he lives in his fantasies a lot.  So his dream shapes his experience. There’s a whole bit about Zheng needing “soft” and Auntie saying she’s proud of her. That isn’t their issue. It’s discordant with the show previously. But it is Stede’s issue. He’s manifesting.

When we first see Stede and Zheng in episode 8, they’re in a familiar spot for Stede, the bridge from episode 1. But why are they alone? When we last see Stede and Zheng in episode 7, several characters are within 5 to 10 feet of them. Did none of them decide to escape with Stede? Izzy, Lucius,  and Jim are closest. But we know Pete was there begging Stede to stay down during his fight with Zheng. Archie was definitely in the bar. That's why Jim entered the fight. So why is it only Stede and Zheng at the bridge? Because, going back to rescue others fits into Stede's hero fantasies. 

Zheng and Stede also argue about who pulled who to safety and how they got there. Stede waxes poetic about being a failure his whole life, but things always seem to work out for him. He’s such a main character mediocre white guy in this scene. He saves Zheng from two random soldiers, then she has to save him from them. Then they fight a bunch more soldiers on the beach until Blackbeard manifests in full leather from the ocean.  It looks cool. But it's absurd, even for OFMD.

Speaking of Ed, he begins the episode waxing poetic about nature and calling fishermen simple.  Those things are more Stede than Ed. Pop pop tells Ed, “You have no skills” which is something Izzy said to Stede in episode 5.  He also tells Ed, “If you were ever good at something, go do that, you bum.” If Stede’s insecurities could be distilled into one sentence, it would probably be that. (He also talks about being like a wave. I’m not 100% sure it's a The Good Place joke, but it would be thematically appropriate.)

Pop pop also tells Ed he “ruined dinner.”  Back in season 1, in Stede’s flashbacks to life with Mary and the kids, Stede thinks he’s ruined dinner. But remember, we also see another version of the scene where Stede is laughing with Mary and the kids.  Stede isn’t exactly a reliable narrator. Even in his own head.

Despite it being beyond unlikely, Ed finds soldiers reading one of Stede’s letters. I know physics in this show is sketchy, but this seems like a good time to point out no one found the red silk. Stede wants Ed to read a letter and for it to fix everything between them. The letter, plus Stede being in danger, make Ed swim out, find his leathers, and emerge from the sea with them on, while the music is the Swede’s solo from Stede’s fuckery in s1e6. Stede wants to be rescued by his handsome pirate in leather, again, just like a pulp adventure romance novel. Little chance of Ed swimming out and finding his kit.  Even less of him getting leather pants on under the water.

Back to the beach… for some reason two squads of soldiers are wandering around out on an empty beach. A visually incredible fight scene occurs. It honestly reminds me of Pete’s story in s1e2, including flips. Ed and Stede yell each other’s names exactly as in the dream. Like I’m pretty sure they used the same audio track. The same song (I Love My Baby, Nina Simone) starts playing. Ed says “I love you.” Stede says “I know.” (We’ll come back to the Han Solo joke in a minute.) They have a bit more absurd fighting then Ed, Stede, and Zheng sit on the beach complimenting each other. And Ed calls Stede “babe”.  He’s never done that outside of Stede’s dream and this moment. He’s called him mate a couple of times.  Babe is exclusively in Stede’s head.

Back in the Republic of Pirates, the crew are locked in a cell that is actually the “vista suite” at Spanish Jackie’s.  Izzy gets a heroic entrance. It’s as cool as Stede thinks Izzy is. And he gives a speech that sounds like what he probably told Stede to get him to relinquish the suit in episode 5. Piracy is about belonging to something. You can’t ignore the wishes of the crew.  Izzy also knows details about Captain Kidd and Pinocchio. Not impossible, but not exactly Izzy’s wheelhouse. It is Stede’s though. He’s obsessed with pirate tales and he read Pinocchio to the crew.

Stede, Ed, and Zheng show up just as Jackie has poisoned a bunch of soldiers. Stede makes a plan, despite everyone else being more qualified. Everyone disguises themselves as soldiers. Now we’ve seen the crew of the Revenge wear disguises. They never do the weird free styling they do here. Only Stede actually looks like a British officer. Zheng at least wears the disguise properly. Suddenly Ed has a multi gun bandolier like Blackbeard in the books. Pete ripped the arms off. Izzy is still wearing his vest. Doesn’t make sense if we’re going for stealth. Neither does not checking hostage Ricky for weapons or putting Izzy and his wooden leg at the front of the group.

If I'm right, Stede wouldn't know Ricky was behind the explosions. However,  Ricky is basically evil Stede. He's Stede's perfect foil. All of this is reflecting Stede's psyche. So, of course, it's Ricky.

Izzy gets shot and says quite a lot of nonsense in his death scene. “They love you, Ed.” Um, 3 of them were going to leave like five minutes ago. Ed has made some progress with the crew, but we’re not at “they love you Ed”.  The only person who thinks the crew loves Ed is Stede. Stede who weeps for Izzy while most of the crew aren’t showing much emotion. Stede can barely deal with his own big feelings. His fantasy doesn’t give the crew room to have them. Also, given the rest of the season, having Jim just let Ed be the person cradling Izzy doesn’t fit. The crew is also pretty stony at Izzy’s funeral.

I feel like it should be noted the last shot of Izzy in episode 7, he’s got one are around Jim and a hand on Lucius’s shoulder. He sat in Wee John’s lap in episode 6. Reactions to his death don’t make sense.

Also, Izzy’s terrible grave marker is very … Stede. He’d think it was a brilliant idea.

I didn't understand at first why Izzy had to die, even in Stede's dream world. Stede clearly likes him a lot better now. Why kill him? Well, it's because we're supposed to think Buttons is there to go to the Gravy Basket for Izzy. When actually he's already arrived in the Gravy Basket and he's there for Stede. Also, mentors die in pulp adventure novels. Stede sees Izzy as a mentor.

They go aboard the Revenge for Lucius and Pete’s wedding. It’s cute that the crew performs the ceremony, but I’d venture a guess that’s because Stede doesn’t know a captain should do it if it's legally binding. Stede does love the romance of it all.  The sudden uptick in monogamy is also very Stede. He barely understands monogamous relationships. Polyamory is beyond him.

Then Stede and Ed, who earlier told Zheng they’d help hunt Ricky, go back to the island where Izzy is buried to start an inn in a run down shack.  Stede knows Ed wants to do this because Ed told the (Taika’s) kids that they ran an inn.  We hear Ed ask “Jesus, what is that smell?” Now, at first, I thought Izzy, because Ed “knows the smell of my rotting first mate”. But what was the last thing to happen in Stede’s dream? A fart joke.

Last scene is Buttons landing on Izzy’s grave. To retrieve Izzy from the Gravy Basket? No, Izzy’s not dead. He’s with Jim and Lucius, probably watching over Stede’s corpse. Buttons is there to retrieve Stede.

This theory fixes the plot holes and dropped threads problem. We’re coming back to them next season. Ed's amends making should be far from over. And we see several moments during the season where he acknowledged that. And yet here on the island they've set up a horror movie and called it a happy ending.  Well, Stede is the type of boss who thinks things are fixed with a pizza (Calypso) party. In Stede's mind, this is a happy ending.  But really Ed is still off finding himself,  Stede is (temporarily) dead, and Izzy (who is not dead!) is probably guarding Stede's corpse.

They haven't resolved the domestic violence thread, but they haven't dropped it, either. Izzy is alive. Stede and Ed aren't together (yet). There's still time.

This also explains some of the freewheeling nonsense David Jenkins has been spouting in articles. Ed doesn’t see Izzy as a father figure and mentor, Stede does.  Stede almost turned to mush when Izzy approved of him. And David is writing a three volume adventure novel. Han Solo (Stede) is in carbonate (the Gravy Basket). The perfect end to the second act. See, I told you we’d get back to the Han Solo joke.

I still have problems with the season.  I really think they need a sensitivity reader. Even just implying a newly disabled character was fridged is certainly a choice. Especially given the amount of time devoted to how the character handled the disability. The DV scenes were brutal, as well as the suicide attempt, and the Human Puppet joke. I think they need someone trauma informed and disabled in the writer's room. (David Jenkins hit me up!)

Overall, I liked season 2. Especially once I realized Izzy wasn't dead. I'm looking forward to season 3, the conclusion of the Gentle Beard arc, and hopefully 6 seasons and a movie of Izzy (to be clear, he's not captain) and the kids sailing up and down the coast being gay and doing crimes, occasionally checking in with Stede and Ed.

Seriously, David, call me.

Historical Note: IRL Blackbeard died on November 22, 1718, killed in a naval battle off Ocracoke Island in North Carolina. IRL Stede Bonnet died December 10, 1718, hanged in Charles Town, South Carolina for piracy.  IRL Israel “Izzy” Hands survives piracy, death date unknown. I know this show doesn’t actually care about historical accuracy, but this lends a little support for my Ed died, then Stede died, and Izzy isn’t dead theory.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Misdemeanor Of The Heart: Chapter 22 (Human Alastor x Reader)

Chapter Trigger Warnings: UwU Fluff, Angst, implied sexual assault

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The basket clattered to the ground, spilling containers and napkins. Glass shattered as the cups hit the ground, but you hardly noticed it. Alastor’s foot caught in the basket as he stepped forward, trying to save you from crashing into the front of his car as an uncharacteristic curse dropped from his lips. 

It didn’t do him any good, only crushing the basket as he himself stumbled. The cool steel of the car bit into your back. Pain ripped through your healing ribs as you gasped. The pain faded into the background as Alastor caught himself just a moment before his body crashed against yours. 

His hands landed on either side of you, braced against the hood of the car. You could just feel his chest brush against yours as you took gasping breaths, more out of shock than anything else. 

He was so close now. You could feel him. God help you, you could smell him. Musk and pine with a touch of cigarette smoke. The smell along with his warmth made your head spin. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, not moving away. 

“My ankle twisted was all,” you whispered, eyes darting between his, then down at his lips as his tongue darted out, wetting them. “I just stepped wrong.” 

“I’m glad,” Alastor said, lifting a hand to brush stray hair behind your ear. “It’d kill me if you came to any real harm with me.” 

Alastor waited, watching as your eyes roamed his face. His heart beat in his chest as fire felt like it burned through his blood, threatening to eat away at the resolve he maintained ever so carefully. 

He leaned forward and you tilted your face up, eyes wide, looking so much like a doe caught in headlights. Tempting, god above, you were teaching him what temptation truly meant. If this is what those women felt as they chased after him, desperate for as little as a look, he understood it now. 

A deep sigh ripped from his chest as he rested his forehead against yours, taking in the warmth of your skin and the way you trembled ever so slightly, trapped between him and the car. He should let you up, should give you space to breathe, but it was taking everything in him not to take what distance you had from you. 

He wouldn’t. God, how he wanted to, but he wouldn’t. You had your choices taken from you again and again. He had watched from a tree, fucking helpless as the man you married invaded the sanctity of your body against your wishes. 

Had you ever kissed a man willingly? Even once?

Was there a time when you longed for lips against yours? Was it ever good for you? You had told him that there hadn’t been anyone before your husband. Had you ever longed for his touch at one point? His lips? 

Selfishly, Alastor hoped not. 

What would it feel like to kiss someone he desired? How he wanted to taste your kiss, but you failed to move. He needed distance before he lost his mind, before curiosity burned the last of his resolve. 

Distance. He needed to give you space. Slowly, he did just that, pulling back. As he did so, he noticed your hand resting against his chest. Had it always been there? He didn’t know. He had been so absorbed in the way your eyes darted around his face that it very well could have been. 

You could feel the way his heart beat under your hand. His open jacket covered some of your fingers. Having your hand under his jacket, even just partially, felt far more intimate than the kisses he would place to your temple or the way his hand would linger, holding yours. 

They were not kisses, you told yourself. Yes, they were, your heart screamed back. You didn’t know which was true.

“Why did you pull away?” you asked the question in your heart before your mind gathered control of your lips. 

“You’re married,” he said softly.

“Oh,” you said over him, looking away, shame burning in you as your hand slipped from his chest. “I’m sorry, I-”

His hand wrapped around yours, holding the palm of your hand flush against his heart, ensuring you had no choice but to feel how rapidly it was beating against his chest. 

“I don’t care about that. I only mean to say it should be your choice.” Alastor said, eyes locked on you as he hooked your chin with a finger, pulling your face back to his, ensuring you saw him as he spoke. “I will not be just another man taking from you, forcing you.”

Your choice.

What a strange concept. Tears burned in your eyes as you tried to put your thoughts in order. You took too long, and he was pulling away again, a guarded smile across his lips.

You acted before you could think about it anymore. You only got one life to live. The bible had taught you that lusting after someone that was not your marriage mate was as sinful as the act of adultery itself. In your heart, you know you had already paved your road to hell. 

The fabric of his shirt bunched under your hand as your fingers balled into a fist, grabbing ahold of him as you threw your other arm around his neck. You didn’t know what you were doing, never had you initiated a kiss before, but you’d seen it in films and from couples that actually cared for eachother. 

You pulled yourself up off the car, or maybe you were pulling him down to you. You didn’t know for sure. Then his lips were against yours. His hand, which had left your chin when you moved, hovered in the air for a moment before resting against your neck lightly. 

Would he push you away?

Fingers curled around your neck, weaving through the hair at the nape as he leaned into you. He drug his hand from the hood of his car, wrapping his fingers around your hip as he held you in place. 

Sanity clawed back into your mind as you pulled away, blinking your eyes open as you looked up at him. What would he do? What would he say? You pulled your lip between your teeth as you waited. 

He had said it was your choice and impulsive though it may have been; you had made your choice. 

Alastor’s hands were long, strong, yet elegant. His thumb caressed your jaw and then applied pressure, just under the bone, to encourage you to tilt your head up a little more. 

Then his lips were on yours. You could feel the way he sighed into the kiss, his chest moving with it as the breath washed over your face. His hand wrapped around your lower back, pulling you tighter to him. Your hand ran up his chest, fingers dancing over the collar of his shirt, taking in the soft feeling of his neck.

His hand on your lower back ran up, holding you closer. It seemed with every exhale of air; he pulled you closer as his lips moved against yours, pulling and pushing. Each time his lips left yours for a gasping breath, he was back again.

As you pulled air into your lungs, his kiss pinched your lower lip softly between his lips. Your head spun. Never had you dreamed it could feel so good to simply be kissed. His hair was as soft as you dreamed as your hand slipped along his neck.

Your thumb brushed against his jaw and your head swam at the feeling of a patch of stubble, ever so small and slight. A missed spot from his morning shave, just under his jaw. A speck of imperfection, hardly noticeable unless you ran the pad of your thumb over it. 

Your lips closed around his, returning to the kiss as you tried to better slot your lips together, trying to correct the misalignment. Any thoughts you may have held onto as he showed you what it felt like to be kissed was lost as something warm and wet darted out between his lips. 

You were not sure if he was trying to lick his lips or yours, but the way he felt had you gasping, begging for air. It was intoxicating, more so than any wine you’d drank in your life as you tasted him as his tongue softly swept into your mouth. 

His kiss wasn’t greedy. Nothing about it hurt. Nothing about it was a battle. It was soft, sweet. You were gasping as his tongue withdrew, leaving you to chase it. You flexed your fingers, scratching his scalp lightly in the process as he continued to pull back. 

Your name was a whisper on his lips, his voice ever so thick and naked as he said, “I’ve got to get you back.” 

“I don’t want to go back,” you whispered back. “I want to stay with you.” 

“We must be careful, ma cherie.” Alastor whispered, leaning in and placing a soft, chaste kiss against your lips before stepping back, putting distance between your bodies. 

You softly touched your lips as you stood in the kitchen, the sink filling with hot water. Laurence hadn’t been terribly impressed with dinner, but the cleaning had earned you mercy for it. 

It felt like you were suffocating, waiting for the sound of his office door closing behind him. Alastor had said he would leave you a note, and you just needed to sneak out to get it. 

Warm hands wrapped around your waist, pulling your back to a too wide chest. Bile rose in your throat as you felt Laurence’s hands smoothe around your front. 

Lips that disgusted you brushed against the top of your head in a vile mockery of the lips you couldn’t stop thinking about. 

“Laurence, honey?” You whispered, frozen otherwise in place. 

“I’ve got a business trip tomorrow,” he said, holding you. “It was sprung on me. That’s why I was so stressed this morning.” 

“That’s alright,” you said though you were less and less sure that it was as you spent more and more time with Alastor. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, baby.” 

“I know,” you said, guilt and doubt clawing into you. Your husband was here, arms around you, and you kept thinking about another man. Why couldn’t you feel the way you did for Alastor for your husband? 

“The tip will have me gone overnight again,” Laurence said in your ear. 

“Tomorrow night?” You asked, trying to not sound hopeful.

“Tomorrow night.” Laurence agreed, “I’m going to go upstairs and bathe. Be ready for bed when I’m done.” 

“Yes, Laurence,” you said, tears welling in your clenched eyes as you willed them not to fall. It would be worse for you if you cried, it always was. If you took it with a smile, it wasn’t as bad. Sometimes though, it felt like Laurence’s goal was simply to make you cry so he could be angry about it. 

You looked up from the dishes in the sink as you listened to your husband walk toward the stairs, eyes training on the apple tree in the distance. You couldn’t see it, not really with the darkness of night. It felt like Alastor was out there, looking back at you. He promised more that you couldn’t reach out for. Alastor was something you wanted so badly and yet, as long as you were married, you could never have him. 

There was rat poison under the sink, tucked behind bottles of vinegar and cleaning solutions. You put it there yourself, back in the fall. Tears slipped down your face as you questioned how much it would take to be free of the man you called your husband. 

Then your eyes rose a little more while the sound of Laurence’s weight creaked on the stairs. As Laurence turned on the water, running the bath, your eyes locked on a flash of light. It was little more than a spark coming from the darkness around the apple tree. 

You couldn’t kill your husband, Alastor wouldn’t want anything to do with you if you did. A good man like Alastor would never want a woman who killed another, a woman who committed such an ultimate sin. He needed a strong, infallible woman who would help him push forward.

You wouldn’t deserve a moment of his time if you did something as monstrous as murder. Wiping tears you hadn’t noticed falling from your face, you dried your hands on your house dress and walked through the kitchen on the toes of your shoes. Each step was careful and slow, ensuring that the heels didn’t click against the floors as you walked toward the back door. 

Slowly, you opened the door and slipped outside. The sound of crickets and cool night are enveloped you as you glanced up, expecting to see your husband in the bedroom window waiting to catch you. 

He wasn’t. Your bedroom was dimly lit by the gaslights in the hall. You were in the clear. Walking quickly turned into running as you crossed the back garden. It was dark, and you nearly tripped over your own feet and then again on twigs.

It was selfish, a fleeting hope that wormed itself into your heart, but you hoped he was still there. You wanted to see him again, to feel his arms around you again. Even for just a moment, you wanted to feel his kiss again. 

He was gone when you reached the tree. Disappointed huffs of breath puffed between your lips as you stuffed the fleeting heartbreak down. There wasn’t time to be disappointed. He had been there. You had seen the light from a match being struck. 

Reaching blindly into the hole, you found it. There was a notebook and sticking out from it, a torn-out page. Grabbing the page, you unfolded it, heart in your throat as you struggled to find a ray of moonlight bright enough to read by.

“My Darling,” Alastor’s neat penmanship started. “I enjoyed our lunch and dearly hope that you can say the same. It pains me so to return you to that house, knowing what you endure at the hands of another. I’ll be counting down the moments until I may see you again. Would it be selfish of me to check back tonight for a response? Perhaps, though, I must confess I will before I return home for the night.

Until then, A” 

You held the note to your chest, heart beating fast. Next to the notebook in the hole was a lighter to burn the letters, but you couldn’t stomach the thought. Instead, you folded the paper and tucked it into your apron. It was a risk you couldn’t help taking. 

It was dark and you could only hope your penmanship would please him as much as his did you. It pained you that you had no time to sprawl a lovely message to match his. 

“I don’t have long,” you started, crouched next to the tree as you braced the notebook on your knee. “He’s going out-of-town tomorrow for work. He’ll be gone overnight. I want to see you, if that’s alright. I dearly wish to see you again.” You signed the note with your initial, just as he did and folded it, tucking it along with the notebook and pen into the hole.

Would he have been by already before returning home for the night? You didn’t know. You hoped he would be by again, even in this late hour. It was selfish. He needed rest too, but you hoped that flash of light wasn’t him saying goodbye. 

For a moment you felt the need to snatch the paper up and scrawl a declaration of your feelings across the page. Leave it to speak everything you were to afraid to say, too ashamed to say but instead you turned away. 

You’d been out for far too long already. You needed to get back. Laurence would be out of the bath and looking for you soon. Based on how he held you, you doubted he would tolerate your presence being absent from the bedchamber. 

“I’m sorry,” Laurence said, running his hands over your arms, bodies lit by nothing but the moonlight through the window. That too was quickly fading as clouds moved in. 

“You needn’t be.” Your eyes traveled, looking everywhere but at your husband. 

“I’ve been working so much we’ve not been able to make it to the cinema much lately. Even our lunches have fallen off.” His lips moved against your neck as you tried to stand as still as you could. 

“You’ve been working hard,” you whispered. “I don’t hold it against you.” 

“You don’t seem to appreciate how hard I’m working,” Laurence’s voice turned sharp. What you said was wrong. You didn’t know how or what the right thing was, but you had said the wrong thing. 

“Of course I do,” you forced yourself to turn and face him, though you couldn’t make yourself reach out for him like you knew he wanted. 

“Then fucking act like it.” Laurence’s mouth crashed against yours in a hard kiss that seemed to be a mockery of what you had learned a kiss could be. “Icy bitch.” He said as he tore your nightgown down your body. 

It was near the middle of the night as Alastor crept through the small forest, note in his pocket. The cloud cover was far too thick for him to have a hope of reading it, but that was alright. 

It was a note from you. That’s all that mattered. At least, he hoped it was. He knew it wasn’t the note he left, written after he had delivered you to your back door. 

Once he was safely through the trees, he sat on the first park bench he found, tucked under the warm glow of the streetlamp. Oh, how his heart pounded and that feeling in his gut bloomed as he took in your slanting letters, messy from speed and poor writing position. 

Tomorrow. 

He could see you again so soon. He’d have to plan something. Would he take you out for another evening on the town? Perhaps not Mimzy’s. The memory of Laurence there may be too fresh still. 

The next town over? No, he didn’t want to waste so much time driving when he could be with you in a more intentional sense. His home was the only logical decision. He’d have to make something for dinner, make it worth the night in. That would be fine, large home and middle class upbringing aside, you seemed content with the simpler things in life. 

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers including the first page of the next chapter of MisD a day early!!

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[vivid-ink]

"The Love Shack" Teaser Snippet

Relationship: Neteyam(23) x fem!Omatikaya reader(21) x Lo'ak(22)

Author's Note: I've had this sexy little plot bunny in my head for a wee while now, so here is a little teaser snippet of the oneshot I'm writing for a threesome between NeteyamxReaderxLo'ak, which I will upload this weekend. Emotionally, it is more NeteyamxReader, but the final work will definitely see Lo'ak get in on the fun too. 😉

Story Summary: You’d heard the whispered speculations and stifled giggles during the daytimes. You’d seen the furtive glances that the other women cast at Neteyam and Lo’ak through coquettish eyes, cheeks stained a blushing mauve as they exchanged coy smiles with the two brothers. And during the nights? Hell, you’d heard the moans and wanton cries for yourself… You were definitely curious, but did you have it in you to go through with their proposition?...

Warnings: Adult content 18+ MDNI Teaser content: Mentions of group sex, suggested threesome Final story content: Will include threesome smut, sex toy play

Full Part I is up now HERE

You blinked dubious eyes at Neteyam and your ears lowered a fraction. You huffed out a jaded laugh and gave a slow shake of your head, “Ugh I can’t believe you. I never expected group liaisons to be your thing. But it’s none of my business and you can do what you like. It isn’t my place to judge. It just surprised me is all.”

Neteyam took a tentative step towards you, “Why does that surprise you?”

You swallowed hard, noticing the way Neteyam had begun to close the distance between you. Part of you was regretting the way you had just run your mouth and admitted you were perturbed by his choice of nighttime activities. You should have just kept your gob shut and gone home. Now you were cornered and he was asking questions.

The mild breeze that had been blowing before had vanished and the air lay heavy and thick around you. You didn’t know if you were imagining it, but you could really smell Neteyam. A fragrant musk was pouring off him and Eywa help you, he smelled so good…

Aware that Neteyam was still waiting on an answer, and not wanting to appear affected by the close proximity you now shared with him, you spoke measuredly, “You’re just so polite and proper all the time. I guess I didn’t expect you to have such a wild streak.”

All Neteyam could smell in the humid air was you, the lovely perfume of your scent assailing his senses and making every fibre of his being ignite with desire. It made his blood pump fast and hot through his veins with the increasing pace of his thumping heart. You thought he didn’t have a wild streak?... Oh, how he yearned to introduce you to the red-blooded male that existed within him…

“The side of me you see when we work is only one side of me. I’ve got a fun side too.” Neteyam breathed softly and there was a gravelly note to his voice that you’d never heard before.

It was deep and captivating, and it breathed over you in hot shivers that made your nipples peak behind the covering of beads and leaves over your breasts. Ever so slowly, his head tipped downward towards yours and he took yet another step towards you, bringing the both of you almost front to front with nothing but a scant sliver of space left between you.

Feeling a twinge of remorse for being judgemental earlier and making presumptions about his character, you whispered an apology, “Sorry for being presumptuous. I shouldn’t judge you.”

“Don’t apologise, just come to the outpost tomorrow night. Consider this your personal invitation. It’ll be just you and us. No one else.” Neteyam’s nose caressed the soft skin of your cheek and the action elicited an involuntary shudder from you.

Neteyam’s use of the word ‘us’ reminded you that Lo’ak was part of the picture too.

You, Neteyam and Lo’ak in a secluded space exploring the possibilities of sensual indulgence… You were a little shocked to find that the sentiment did not repel you.

Instead, you felt a spear of anticipation low in your belly…

Author's Note: Things are going to get STEAMY and oh so juicy in here. Sing out in the comments with your thoughts and let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post the full work this weekend. 😘 Credit to @cinetrix for her beautiful renders of an adult Neteyam that I've used in the story cover image.

Full Part I is up now HERE

[froppy-butterflyfan2000]

🧶🌊🌈💖🗡️🐉💙🍪⚡️ for Vincenzia!

Sure! Oh by the way, it is Vincenza.

🧶 - Do they do any arts, crafts, or creative hobbies?

In the aftermath of the war between the Queenguards and their allies and The Titanic Ten, the resurrected legendary warriors, and rebel monsters whose side with them, and the arrival of the continent, Sweetopia, where The Candyfolk Kingdom reside (created by @cooltmoney95) coming to help aid everyone in the rebuilding of Mewni, she take up baking to help provide food aids for the people of baking. Vincenza is fast enough magically to delivery messages (if her crow, Salem is needed by the Second Division) to Captain Fum and food aids. Even considering helping Spikeballs (Her knight, Vega’s dad) out in construction work in repairing villages. But baking is what she got into the most in the rebuilding phrase of Mewni. The scent of breads rising up in the oven, freshly baked are so wonderful. This is all thanks to Vincenza spending her time with Gino Churro.

Cartography (when exploring Mewni in her free-time).

Occasionally singing (Warning: Covers your ears! She sounds like a combination of a mirror-phone vibrating, scratching on the chalkboard, and crow.)

💙 - Describe their bedroom! Is it personalized, unchanged? Messy, neat?

Vincenza tried to make her room neat and tidy to be presentable of her royal status. Her clothes are kept in her dress cabinet (it is where she stash board games and a box of her maps). She make sure to dusts it before the maids do. However, the room will occasionally have eagle feathers and outdated maps of Mewni, that she drew, scattered on the floor. Vincenza make sure to pick up the outdated maps and put them in a box for safekeeping. Otherwise the maids will throw them away by going into the trash, or worst, her mother see them.

Vincenza personalized her room to be a mix of Bloomcore and in-between Gothpunk and Whimsigothcore.

🍪 - What are their favorite scents?

Earth/Dirt (Thanks to Fum)

Cherry Blossom

The smell of freshly baked breads (Thanks to Gino Churro, @cooltmoney95’s Breadfolk and a part of the Sixth Division)

Bergamot Musk Scented Candle to ease her fatigue (useful for her because it delay her hunger whether she use her magical ability). It also help ease her anxiety.

Roses from Eclipsa’s Garden

Pig-Goat Stew and Smoked Pig-Goat Leg

Goblin Dog

Smell of the maps

Fresh air and floral scents of the the forests (both from Pixtopia and Mewni)

🌈 - Do you associate any colors with them?

Teal Blue

St. Patrick’s Blue

Navy Blue

Cerulean Blue

Vermillion Orange

Red Orange

Bright Red

Cherry Blossom Pink

Magenta

🐉 - Very serious question… are they more like a dragon, or a unicorn?

A unicorn, due to how rare I am in writing stories about her that I promise to, and her being one of the first Pixie Hybrids in existence in Tales of Mewni. Vincenza only appear in @kururu418’s Tales of Mewni (main storyline), the stories I typed using prompts, and the story of her and @laylaylamode’s Jia exploring Noceto Forest. I really need to finish the sequel. 😥

🌊 - Does this oc have a secret or repressed desire?

Her secret desire is to marry Fum (this character is The Captain of the Fifth Division and he belongs to @kururu418), but everyone in the Queensguard know. Her colleague, Robin Skylight (@cooltmoney95’s ToM SVTFOE next gen character) calls her Simp. 😂. That is why she is honing her size manipulation, in order to becomes bigger. By bigger, I means giant-sized, so she can challenge Fum to a duel of love. However, Lilli (ToM Brownie OC of @doomface) seem to beats her to it 😂.

People to play with in Dungeons and Dragons. (Although, I don’t know how to write a story of people playing that game. 😔)

⚡ - Does this oc have any unusual or “irrational” fears?

Ice Magic (because it is responsible for her unable to fly because of a broken wing), specially Astro’s Ice Magic.

Rubella’s cold stare when Vincenza is late for her lesson on diplomacy. Rubella Lucitor belongs to @cooltmoney95.

Losing control of herself when she get very wrathful/apeshit.

The Grove Guardians in the forests of Pixtopia Dimension.

🗡️ - Does this oc have a signature object, accessory, or weapon?

Her scythe, The Befallen. It is forged in The Waterfolk Kingdom and is a gift from her twin sister, Cordelia.

Her red flowers hair clip.

Navy Blue hooded cape/Snowy Owl (A Beast in Pixtopia that was slain) Feathered Cape

💝 - How much effort do they put into appearances? Do they have a favorite article of clothing?

Vincenza doesn’t put much in though. Usually always wear her double dutch braids in her duty as a knight.

When it come to social events and representing the pixies in Pixtopia, Vincenza put a lot of effort in her appearances when it come to social events. She wears a Dutch Braided Bun when attending meetings with the heirs of Mewni Kingdoms and Monster Tribes on Cordelia’s behalf.

In her time on Earth, Vincenza is low-key into gothic fashion (Originally Pastel Goth. Vincenza is trying out a combination of Romantic Gothic Fashion and Faerie Gothic Fashion). Her theme of fashion is a cherry blossom theme.

[thecubspeaks]

If you're still taking prompts. Strength; something with Wyll and Shadowheart. Doesn't necessarily have to be shippy.

i'll always take a prompt!!

[tarot card prompts]

Strength (Strength, courage, persuasion, influence, compassion)

Shadowheart hears Wyll approaching from behind, but pretends not to-- not until he speaks, and makes his presence unavoidable.

"Shadowheart? Dinner is ready-- you ought to come eat something."

She makes a vague hum of acknowledgement, but doesn't move. So Wyll doesn't move, either. It lasts for a little while, the silence. She's the one to break it.

"Are Wyll Ravengard and the Blade of Frontiers the same person?"

Shadowheart can't see what Wyll's face does in the minute pause before he chuckles and comes to sit beside her. "That's quite a question. Why do you ask?"

"Because you have a very irritating habit of insisting people are themselves. It's what you said to me. You are Shadowheart. But I haven't the faintest idea what that means. But you must know, since you insist upon it so often."

Wyll sits in silence for another moment, there on the log she found just outside their little roadside camp. Even with the Risen Road cleared of the Absolute's army, it isn't save to wander far alone, but since leaving the Shadowfell, company is difficult to bear.

"I suppose what I mean when I say it," he says at last, "is that even if you feel unmoored, there is a truth to you that shines through for others. You may not see it yet, but it is there to be found."

"And that's comforting to you?" She looks over at him at last. He looks back. The devil's ridges on his face cut deep shadows in the sunset light. "To rely on the rest of the world to define you?"

"Not to define me. I hope," he adds, an irrepressible waver of uncertainty that he quickly covers up. "To see me. When I lose track of myself."

Someone says something that sends a burst of laughter up from the camp behind them. The scent of the last of the fresh food scavenged from the ruins of Moonrise wafts over on the air, with the pleasant musk of campfire smoke. Shadowheart stands.

"You didn't answer the question."

Wyll, standing too, laughs. "No. I guess I didn't."

[maybeamiles]

Finally got around to watching Glass Onion and WOW is it good. And awkward because their Elon Musk parody is named Miles, just like me. Very flattering in the first 5 minutes and not so much for the last entirety of the movie.

Highlights from my watch include

Oh my god I am no longer flattered by sharing a name with this Miles character. "Inbreathiate"??? *gags*

Oh this is such good filmmaking. "I just wanna have a normal weekend with my friends" (robot dog carrying everyone's luggage struts past iin the background. This is great. So many people are pulling their weight and it SHOWS.

"nobody wants you to break the system itself" - said by man who has not broken any piece of the system in question. Anyways great theme statement and great way to frame it in the mouth of an antagonist.

"every single one of you is holding on for dear life to Miles Bron's golden tiddies" *covers up said tiddies*

"It's a dangerous thing to mistake speaking without thought for speaking the truth." Man these writers are on FIRE today!

Also, Miles keeps saying he loves everyone. But I don't think that's completely true. Cause his love is like, "I love you as long as you go along with my crazy plans." Whaddya wanna bet that Andi said no to him, and that's why he destroyed her career. And given that he keeps inviting her, he's probably very lonely. These are probably the only human connections he has.

"winner gets an iPad" something that is completely useless to everyone here, who could buy a thousand of them and not feel a dent in their bank account.

Well it wasn't chekov's "shooting your dick off" but it still is absolutely checkov's gun.

You know I was expecting a lot of Chekov's guns. I was not expecting Chekov's hot sauce.

"She meant the world to me." shut the FUCK up Miles. You have never loved anyone enough to say they meant the world to me. Oh sure maybe she was important to you. You did let her have half a share in your big company that let you fuck around all day with famous people. But you know what it means to love someone? To say they mean the world to you? It means that you are willing to let the world burn for them, to give up everything for their sake. You have never given up anything that mattered in your entire life. You do not love these people, you buy their affection with gifts of power in the hopes that their presence will fill the void in your heart and it never does, right? it's never enough. Because you do not love them and you never will. So they will never love you back.

Edit: I recognized a really stupid designer chair that looks like a woman's body in the background of the wide shot of the pool scene. I've actually seen another version in person, and it is one of my life's regrets that I may never get a chance to sit in that chair.

[karsite-moved]

some gale thoughts:

there is a constant pressure on his chest, sometimes restricting and suffocating. sometimes heavy and unbearable. there's always some level of discomfort. around where the orb sits is discolored and bruised, there are other spots along his body that are the same bruising. these do not disappear until post-game when the orb is gone from him.

he's almost always making some sort of noise, mainly talking- to whoever will listen but he also hums ( when cooking ) and mutters under his breath when thinking / rationalizing something out. 99.9% of the time he's always thinking about something. ( how much he reveals about himself personally differs with his approval of you, naturally. ) i love that he canonically talks in his sleep.

books books and more books. everywhere about his area in camp is covered in them, which he's happy to loan out so as long as they return in the same condition. he's also more than happy to infodump on any given subject and will ask questions of the other companions if he doesn't know much about the subject or is just curious ( though if the subject is sensitive he'll leave it alone. ) / please play chess or mind games with him, he loves that sort of stuff.

his libido is slightly higher than average and he's a very attentive partner, prioritizing his partner's pleasure above his own ( act 2 astral scene?? showing off All Of That. ) he likes everyone and has little preference. though he does have particular inclinations ( liking how tav smells, 'musk' / looks in battle, etc. one of the reasons why i enjoy him with lae'zel because of how she'd look in battle- covered in blood and all fierce. ) ( as long as you're nice, exceptions being the aus w/ a darker gale / god gale. )

how mystra saw gale vs how gale saw mystra is incredibly different. in my opinion!!! -> for gale, mystra was everything but for mystra, gale was just another chosen- impressed by the way he wielded magic but an indifference to him in regards to his humanhood. ( no hate, i just feel you can replace gale with anyone that sought to use the weave in challenging new creative ways and mystra would feel the same about them as she did gale. )

gale does not regret the time spent under her attention ( nor elminster's ) and while he still speaks of her in the positive for the most part, he no longer hold her on such high a pedestal, even throwing the occasional shade. the opinion above is something he picks up on after tav convinces him in the positive that he doesn't need to blow himself to atone for his folly.

gale is a bit of a proud individual but there's a lack of confidence in his person, not of his skills. this mostly has to do with falling out of mystra's favor. he is someone that wants to be needed even if it is something as simple as his opinion. the 'let me be useful and prove myself' sort of mentality that dips into unhealthy on occasion.

[irisopranta]

FFxivWrite Prompt 7: Noisome

The Clockwork Boutique was just opening as per usual. Iris was happy that that it was business as usual. As she was about to get started with a current order for a fancy dress for noble lady in the pillars, a man enter the shop. The bell didn’t need to alert her that he was there. His stench was powerful enough to compete with a morbol’s breath.

Iris turn to the source. She saw the man wearing clothes torn and tattered. Whatever pieces where covering him was covered in dirt, grime and soot. His monocle was cracked and cloudy as though he dug it through the trash. Iris couldn’t get a closer look at as he smelled like rotten karakul milk and over fermented mead. “C-can I-I help you sir?” She asked from a distance, coughing from his musk.

“Most Fortuitous,” the man ignored the shopkeep’s question. “What a lovely shop filled to the brim with such gorgeous outfits.” He wondered a bit as her approached the wedding dress she had out on displayed. Iris looked on horror before preventing him on touching the dainty cloth of the dress.

“Sir!” She exclaimed to him, trying her best to hid her gagging as she was now close to him. “Is there anything I can help you with, sir?” As she tries to best to not offend her guest.

“Ah miss. I take it that you are the needlewoman?” He looked Iris up and down. “Mayhaps, I’m mistaken. You could be any more than laundress.” He scoffed. Iris was taken aback. How dare he insult her. She knew there were some rude Ishgardians around, any city will have that. However, that man is the most painfully Ishgardian man she had ever met. She wasn’t sure what this man’s deal was. She thought it was pretty bold of him to walk into her shop smelling as bad as he does, with clothes as torned as they were, and with that dated vocabulary of his.

Elwin, coming up from the storage area below the store, noticed the musk that over took the shop. “Aye Mis’ Iris, What’s goin’ on? Why does the shop stink?” He turned the corner to see the Elezen man that had been hassling Iris while he was down stairs.

“Ah, there is he is. The harberdasher!” The man walked up the Elwin “Put it there my good man.” He reached out for Elwin’s hand to give it a good handshake. Elwin wasn’t quite sure what make of this situation. He was only starting to learn how tailor under Iris’ tutelage. He looked over to Iris in hopes this was some prank. Iris was just as clueless as he was and gave him a shrug.

Iris just looked onward on what horrors her assistant is enduring at the moment. She thought for a moment as the man started talking to Elwin’s ear off.

“Oh Ser Elwin, I have some ideas on how to best serve our most esteemed guest.” She signal Elwin over to her. As he got close to her, he hunched down a bit. “Listen, that man is rude, but I doubt that he will leave us alone if we just kicked him out.” Elwin nodded. “I’m going go to Francel to alert that we are going to do and will need to use the firmament’s spa for this one. I want you to take him there to at least bath. Tell him it’s a service when we need to get know our client more.”

“Is that alright to lie to him?” Elwin asked, uncertain that he could do the task.

“In this case, yeah. Look he seems to think you run the show here so he might listen to you more.” Iris sighed as she looked at the man. “While he bathes I’ll replace his clothes because let’s face it, the smell probably ruin that fabric.” Elwin sighed, he’d hoped that Iris was right about this. The two split to do their task in this whole operation.

[yet-another-heathen]

What is the character’s go-to drink order? (this one gets into how do they like to be publicly perceived, because there is always some level of theatricality to ordering drinks at a bar/resturant)

What is their grooming routine? (how do they treat themselves in private)

What was their most expensive purchase/where does their disposable income go? (Gets you thinking about socio-economic class, values, and how they spend their leisure time)

Do they have any scars or tattoos? (good way to get into literal backstory) 

What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances? (Good way to get some *emotional* backstory in.) 

For Henry of course

I know this was a very hand-picked set of questions, and for that I adore you so much, Red. [Henry asks that you send Yves his love.]

TW | alcohol use, depression

1. Go to drink order?

He has two go-to's that he likes to rotate between. His favorite of the two is a Lion's Tail, an older-fashioned drink made from bourbon, allspice liqueur, lime juice, rich demerara syrup, and bitters, often garnished with lime peel. For the bars that don't happen to keep allspice liqueur on hand, a Boulevardier is his second choice (a drink very much like a Negroni, but made with bourbon instead of gin). He'll usually ask the bartender for a sugar cube or two thrown in to the latter.

You want to know the way to soften his heart a little, though? Order him a White Russian.

2. What is their grooming routine?

Most of his grooming routine is centered around shaving and around his hair. He takes the time to use a blow dryer, and chooses hair products that allow him to style his hair loosely up and back without it getting crunchy. He has one light-hold pomade that has been his go to for years. He also shaves on a daily basis with a classic solid-blade straight razor. He finds the rhythm of sharpening it on its strop very soothing, and uses it as a regular grounding practice that he's worked into his daily routine. (Yes, that's a bit of his nerdy psychologist side coming out: may as well practice what you preach. Besides, it does work.)

Henry also fairly regularly dyes his hair. He discovered a few years back that he is prematurely going grey, and covers the salt and pepper with his natural dark brown. A certain pesky vigilante already incessantly teases him about being an "old man" and knows he would hear no end of it if he found out he's going grey. (Though no, if you asked him, you won't get him to admit it.)

He prefers woody/musky scents in his soaps, and sandalwood is one of his favorites. While you would expect a man like him to also have a ludicrously expensive set of colognes, he actually has one middle class scent that is a long standing favorite of his: a little pink bottle called 'Joop! Homme'. It's a spicy-sweet scent with a rounded smell of musk, heliotrope, and grapefruit. [Yes, for those of you wondering, it is a real and very underrated cologne]

The last part of his routine before getting dressed is to apply moisturizer to his stump. As he'll tell you, there's nothing worse than the scar tissue starting to itch through the day.

3. What is their most expensive purchase/where does their disposable income go?

Most of Henry's readily disposable income goes to the upkeep of his four safehouses, or is used under a pseudonym for lobbying. But when that is said and done, the thing he spends the most on for himself alond is what Wes coined "The Second Library of Alexandria". Henry has a stunning collection of first-edition, rare, and historical books that would (and have) made some of his fellow scholars weep. It would make Henry turn red to admit how much he has spent on them over the last twenty-ish years, but safe to say that they alone account for more than what he has spent on his flat, safehouses, and the Audi combined.

4. Do they have any scars/tattoos?

Quite a number of the former. His largest scars are the ones that circle what is left of his arm, the surgical scar down the center of his chest that has accommodated several repeated heart surgeries, and one more under his left collarbone where his ICD was implanted. He has dozens more from the years of doing what he does, but they tend not to get noticed in comparison.

He has only one tattoo, and he got it out of necessity rather than desire: a simple medical tattoo on the left side of his rib cage where a defibrillator paddle would go, denoting his Long Q-T syndrome. (And yes, it has already saved his life twice.)

5. What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances?

There isn't a simple question to this one, because it depends so heavily on where the story we are. But Henry lets himself cry quite a lot, even if he almost always makes sure he's alone for it. His driving force is that he cares about people perhaps a little too much, and over the years he's backed himself into a horrible corner. Between murder and unspeakable violence, working under the crushing hand of someone he hates, keeping everything and everyone he truly cares about secret, trying to singlehandedly change the tide of power evil people hold over a city of millions, blaming himself for every single failure to do so, and feeling that there is no escape from the world he's built that won't cost the lives of innocent people? On top of being a psychologist who knows that crying is a healthy outlet for emotion and stress?

Yeah, he cries a lot.

In general, it's much more concerning when he goes through long spells without crying. His depression is fairly well-controlled on medication, but he still has breakthrough episodes where he'll feel hopeless and numb that can last for a few weeks at a time. And, what do you know, they're usually brought on by spikes of stress caused by any/all of the above somehow getting worse. It's those times that the people that care about him know to keep a particularly close eye on him, and it's a relief when he finally does find he is able to cry again at last.

[pumpkinstep]

At the edge:

The ceiling beams blurred and moved into focus, in and out, clear than murky than clear again.

Reclined in a chair, Jacob could feel how heavy his body was, how it took up space and depressed the cushions beneath him.

He could hear his father in the kitchen, he could hear muffled voices and light hearted conversation.

he didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to care about what they were saying or doing. He didn't want to be in his room, reaking if vomit and blood. Nightmares had kept him awake, cries for help that would never come haunting his thoughts.

though he'd showered recently, he still felt filthy, his skin a sticky clammy mess, he felt, a feeling he had yet to get used to.

the ceiling beams went out of focus again,  blurring into brown fuzz as he heard a door open then close again. two people left, he was vaguely aware. Finally he was alone, or so he thought.

Not long after his father left, a door formed and opened between two bookshelves. Not long after it appeared, a small form stepped inside.

Without looking he knew who it was, just by smell alone, he knew who it was. It was something animal, a musk he'd recognize anywhere. It was something akin to unwashed dog, an almost stale and greasy scent covered by something sickly sweet. It could have been chocolate at some point but now it was simply sugar, it's earthiness lost to the musk.

He ignored the intruder and kept his vision unfocused until a small hand waved over his face.

he huffed out a sigh, proving he hadn't died yet, before focusing and looking at who had stepped in.

it was Coby.

He'd never seen him like this before. Sure he's seen him in quite a bad way before, bloodied and bruised, snot running with cheeks drenched in tears, crying so hard his missing teeth were visible. Of course, for all his suffered expressions, he was silent.

Coby stood before him with messy long hair. His strawberry blonde locks grown long and curly towards the ends, hampered by grease and keeping them straighter than they usually would be. His caramel eyes, large and doe like were empty and tired, heavily accentuated by dark rings as if he'd been losing sleep or rubbing his eyes too much from distress.

Just like me....it's almost like a complete reflection, Jacob thought as he looked at him, I've seen that look before...

He shifted and lifted himself up slightly with the arms of his chair, sitting back and proper to give his guest his full attention.

"what do you want?" he asked, feeling his voice come like gravel in his throat.

When was it the last time he'd spoke to anyone? It had been a while, he reasoned, since hed seen anyone since the nightmares started.

The small teen, barely tall enough to reach Jacob's chest when standing next to eachother, pulled a small chalk board from his hoodie pocket and began to write.

He looked hesitant, his lettering slow and unsure and, just when jacob was about to get impatient, he turned it around.

[Do you have rope?]

Jacob read the question, then read it again, turning the words over in his mind as he slowly looked up at Coby who flinched under, what the strawberry blonde felt was, his contemptuous gaze.

"What do you need it for?" Jacob finally asked, narrowing his eyes a little at him, only adding to his intimidating appearance.

Coby fidgeted with his board, suddenly looking away and pulling into himself at the question.

Ah....so I was right...he knows I know this isn't just a normal request... Jacob thought, resting his head on a hand whilst propped by an elbow. He would wait, he had the time. How he answered, he figured, would determine how he'd respond.

To him, they were not in his father's livingroom, instead, it was a cliff. He saw the boy standing at the precipice and with every fibre of his being he was begging for Jacob to push him.

He heard him loud and clear, even if he hadn't really made his intentions clear, he understood. He didn't have a right to pull him away, and while regret made him want to reach his hand out to pull him in to his arms and change his mind, he knew he couldn't make that choice.

Not after what he'd done to the young man.

silence grew like wild black berries and just when it became almost unbearable, the sound of chalk on board broke it.

[it's for plants. I want to hang up some plants in my room. very heavy ones.] the board read when he finally finished.

"plants, huh...real heavy ones too? I didn't know you liked plants but...who am I to judge." Jacob rasped, stuffing a hand into his own hoodie pocket before removing a thick and sturdy rope from within.

Having used magic to summon the loosely wound bundle, he was confident it wouldn't rip under any circumstances.

"You better find a good tall sturdy place to hang them. you don't want anything to break...it's a little disappointing to lose a pot if whatever it's hanging from breaks." he said, keeping his tone uninterested and casual while he held the bundle out.

Coby stared at it then reached out to take it, recoiling at first as if it were a snake that was about to strike before snatching it up.

"you should show me your plants the next time I'm over." Jacob said with a yawn.

Coby slowly nodded as he stared down at the rope in his hand. soon he awkwardly turned and left, not bothering to thank Jacob for his help as he did so. He didn't mind, he knew that was probably the last time they'd ever see each other again.

However he had a feeling he wouldn't go through with it. He was a coward and had plenty of people who would knock his door down to check on him in times like this. He wasn't worried...not entirely.

He had the thought to call him back or follow him, to give into his guilt but he found himself glued to his chair with the knowledge he'd done enough and now it was time to let go.

even if he wanted to make him stay, he had to trust his friend and have hope.

It was all he could afford to do.

at least that's what he told himself as the door closed and he was alone once more.

since then, he was kept busy with his own troubles and his straining relationship with his father. He wouldn't learn of the outcome until years later.

when he heard the news, all the guilt he'd felt bubbled up and presented itself as hot bile that flooded his mouth and burned his throat.

tears stung his eyes as no loss had struck him as harshly as this.

While everyone spoke of suicide. he knew deep in his heart that the real word they should be using was murder.

@thealphapigeon @ghostiebloo

[sa7abnews]

Trump chats with Musk in lengthy, overarching interview as Harris continues snubbing media

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Trump chats with Musk in lengthy, overarching interview as Harris continues snubbing media

Former President Donald Trump spoke with tech billionaire Elon Musk in an overarching, lengthy interview Monday evening on X as Vice President Kamala Harris continues avoiding the media since landing on the top of the Democratic ticket for the White House. “It’s pretty sad when you think that somebody that does this for a living can’t answer a question or is afraid to do an interview, and in her case, with a very friendly interview. She’s got all friendly interviewers,” Trump said of Harris Monday evening during his roughly two-hour interview with Musk on X Space. Trump’s comments come as Harris has avoided the media for 22 days. She has snubbed formal press conferences or sit-down interviews, including for a Time magazine cover story, since she emerged as the DNC’s nominee for the White House after President Biden dropped out of the race last month. “She is considered more liberal, by far, than Bernie Sanders. She’s a radical-left lunatic. And if she’s going to be our president, very quickly you’re not going to have a country anymore. And she’ll go back to all the things that she believes in. She believes in defunding the police. She believes in no fracking, zero,” Trump added of Harris. KAMALA HARRIS DECLINES TIME MAGAZINE INTERVIEW AS SHE CONTINUES TO AVOID THE PRESSTrump’s interview with Musk kicked off after 8:30 p.m. Monday, following a “massive” distributed denial-of-service attack on the platform that caused delays, Musk explained on X. More than 1 million people ultimately listened to the interview according to the live tracker throughout the discussion. X MELTS DOWN AFTER TRUMP-MUSK’S INTERVIEW ‘SPACE’ IMMEDIATELY CRASHESThe two held a laid back interview, where Musk prompted Trump with topics before the 45th president was offered ample time to elaborate on policy issues such as immigration, the assassination attempt on his life last month, spiraling inflation and closing the Department of Education in favor of states taking the mantle on school systems. “I want to close up Department of Education, move education back to the states. … Of the 50 [states], I would bet that 35 would do great. And 15 of them, or, you know, 20 of them, will be as good as Norway. You know, Norway is considered great,” Trump said, while noting left-wing states such as California could struggle if he does eliminate the DOE. The 45th president also spoke at length with Musk about the current state of immigration in the U.S. “I believe it’s over 20 million people came into our country. Many coming from jails, from prisons, from mental institutions, or a bigger version of that is insane asylums. And many are terrorists. And I’ll tell you what, they’re coming not just from South America. They’re coming from Africa. They’re coming from all over the world. They’re coming from Asia. They’re coming from the Middle East,” Trump told Musk, who endorsed Trump earlier this year. Trump said that despite Harris’ recent rhetoric to address the spiraling migrant crisis at the border, she and Biden have had years to address migration but “won’t do anything.” “She had three and a half years, and by the way, they have another five months that they can do something. But they won’t do anything. It’s all talk. She’s incompetent and he’s incompetent. And frankly, I think that she’s more incompetent than he is, and that’s saying something, because he’s not too good,” he said. On the topic of immigration, Trump also credited a slide his campaign made showing immigration stats for saving his life in Butler, Pennsylvania, last month during a rally, when shooter Thomas Crooks attempted to assassinate him. The 45th president looked over to the slide on immigration data when Crooks opened fire, which narrowly saved his life as the position of his head had abruptly changed. “That slide — illegal immigration saved my life,” he told Musk. “The incredible thing is that the chart, I used it less than 20% of the time. It was just a moment.””It’s always to my left, never my right, and it’s always at the end of the speech,” Trump added of the position of the slide. “I’m going to sleep with that chart always,” he joked. FBI INVESTIGATING IRAN’S HACK OF TRUMP CAMPAIGN DOCUMENTSTrump went on to rattle off a list of wars and world events the U.S. could have avoided if Biden were not in the Oval Office, while noting he was tough on nations such as Russia, China and North Korea and knows the countries’ respective leaders “well.”  “First of all, the Israeli attack would have never happened. Russia would never have attacked Ukraine, and we’d have no inflation, and we wouldn’t have had the Afghanistan mess, if you think of it well … if you take a few of those events away, and we have a different world.”HARRIS CAMPAIGN POSTS DEBUNKED CLAIM THAT TRUMP CALLED CHARLOTTESVILLE NEO-NAZIS ‘VERY FINE PEOPLE’He pointed to his tweets back in 2017 when he slammed North Korea’s Kim Jong-un as “little rocket man” as tensions heightened between the two nations amid a series of North Korea missile and nuclear tests. “I had that problem worked out very quickly,” Trump said of North Korea. “It was nasty at the beginning with Rocket Man … [Jong-Un] said he has a red button on his desk. I said, ‘I have a red button on my desk too, but my red button is much bigger, and my red button works.’ And then I called him ‘Little Rocket Man.'””Anyway, here’s the bottom line. All of a sudden, I got a call from him, and they said they want to meet, they wanted to meet me. And we met … and I got along with him great. We were in no danger, but President Obama thought we were gonna end up in a war, a nuclear war, with him,” he said. BURGLARY AT TRUMP CAMPAIGN VIRGINIA HEADQUARTERS CAUGHT ON SURVEILLANCE CAMERA UNDER INVESTIGATIONTrump also addressed Biden’s exit from the 2024 race, saying it was a Democratic “coup” that pressured Biden to drop out. Biden dropped out of the running last month as concerns mounted surrounding his mental acuity and 81 years of age and Democrats and traditional allies of the party called on him to exit the race. “This was a coup. This was a coup of a president of the United States. He didn’t want to leave, and they said, ‘We can do it the nice way, or we can do it the hard way,'” Trump said. “They just took him out back behind the shed and basically shot him,” Musk added before Trump slammed Biden as “the worst president in history.” TRUMP CAMP THANKS WH FOR CONFIRMING THERE’S ‘NO DAYLIGHT’ BETWEEN HARRIS, BIDEN: ‘KAMALA CREATED THIS MESS’Trump made a return to X, formerly Twitter, earlier on Monday after nearly a year of not posting on his once-favored social media platform. Before X sold to Musk in 2022, Trump was suspended from his Twitter account following the breach of the Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021. He seldom posted on the platform after Musk reinstated his account, only sharing his mugshot in August of last year. “Are you better off now than you were when I was president? Our economy is shattered. Our border has been erased. We’re a nation in decline. Make the American Dream AFFORDABLE again. Make America SAFE again. Make America GREAT Again!” Trump posted earlier Monday amid a flurry of campaign ads. Ahead of his interview with Trump, Musk hyped the interview as one that “should be highly entertaining!” as it “​​is unscripted with no limits on subject matter.””This country is going down, and these people are bad people that we’re running against. And they’re liars. They make statements. They do things that are so bad. They say they’re going to make a strong border. They say they’ve been great on the border, and they’ve been the worst in history. They say they stop crime,” Trump said towards the end of the interview. “It’s so incredible.” Get the latest updates from the 2024 campaign trail, exclusive interviews and more at our Fox News Digital election hub.