#is this a good advertisement? probably not
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
adyophene · 5 hours ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Radiotrio day 6: Roleswap!
Alastor - Charlie
Husk - Vaggie
Niffty - Angeldust
Deets under cut!
"Alastor":
Alastor is actually Cain going under a pseudonym. He's trying to redeem sinners not out of the goodness of his heart, but as a fuck you towards Adam, his estranged deadbeat Father. He vaguely believes redemption is possible, but on the outside he gives off the vibe of thinking its nonsense. Eve, who is in hell, is the one payrolling the whole thing. As the first Sinner in hell she holds a bit of power. (Eve - Lucifer swap)
Al exclusively advertises the Hotel through radio commercials and jingles and doesn't really care that it is probably is why no one knows about it.
"Husk":
A fallen angel who always fucked off and drank and gambled during exterminations instead of killing sinners. When he caught his wings were chopped off and he was left for dead. Alastor found him and offered him a deal. Al would keep Husk's identity secret so long as Husk worked for him. Husk tried to refuse and goad Al into finishing him off, but was instead lured into a bet. He lost and became Al's right hand cat.
Husk doesn't believe in redemption at all. He is trapped in Heaven's mindset that once you fucked up you're done forever. He puts up with Al's antics with a heavy amount of booze.
Niffty:
Hell's favorite killing machine. Niffty is a weapons spokesperson working for Carmilla. She's recorded by a camera crew when she goes out to kill his rivals and its all pitched as a fun and brutal reality show with a star who revels in the thrill of the hunt. Niffty loves her craft and is extremely skilled, but is becoming burnt out. She suffers from an addiction to amphetamines to keep up her 'high energy camera persona'. (When exhausted she just ends up freezing out and staring into the camera ala the gag in the show.)
Niffty is ambivalent about redemption, but likes to stay at the hotel cause she likes Al and Husk, and because it gives her a break from work.
Charlie: A former human who made a deal with Lucifer so she could come down to hell and try to help the undeserving sinners there. She is absolutely ecstatic about the hotel and is all but overbearing in trying to help Alastor achieve his goal.
Vaggie: A sinner who went to hell for her 'extremely violent tendencies', despite the fact that all her actions were in the protection of herself and family/home. Charlie found her in the aftermath of a territory dispute, and after helping her/hearing about her backstory, all but glued Vaggie to her side. Vaggie doesn't believe in redemption, due to her guilt/shame over her violent past, but is dragged along by Charlie.
Angeldust:
Charlie's mysterious and excitable friend. Angel loves a good 'naughty boy' and doesn't so much as clean, but rather struts about posing in whatever meido costume he likes for the day. Charlie knows his past and is the reason he works at the hotel. She thinks he is a good candidate for redemption. Angel doesn't really care either way and is just happy for a shit easy job that he can dress up cute for and slack off all he likes!
I don't know when, but I might come back to this roleswap idea in the future and expand out other swaps!
157 notes · View notes
boolger · 7 hours ago
Text
A lapdog at a farm - chapter 5
<-former chapter -AO3 link -next chapter -> Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. WC: 6.3k
tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, it dies later on, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy
MDNI. MDNI. Dead dove do not eat.
Authors note: do note there will be the use of prong collars in this. Just like all the other fucked up stuff in this, i don't support that irl, but this is fiction. On a different note, it will probably be at least a week before I can give you another chapter lol, shit is happening, my sinners and im holding on. Also thank u to all the nice asks and comments ive been sent. means a lot <33. ENJOY!
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
You could only stay in the farmhouse for so long; even though you desperately wanted to stay inside, Price dragged you outside, talking about fresh air and enjoying nature. 
To you it was nothing but lies and the smell of animal shit.
There were no pavements, no cars flashing by, no advertisements or shops, no scents of food or sweets trying to lure you in. There were no hybrid clothes shops, where John would play dress up with you for his next party. Show him how the lingerie set he picked out looked against your tail.
He would make sure your nails were always perfect and manicured. Without the claws, he made sure you knew you were loved anyways, your nails adorned with expensive nail polish and gemstones. Anything that his Daisy, his princess, his darling, his puppy wanted, she always got.
Now you were here, following him into the stables, to see how far Nikolai - who had forced himself into your life - was with the tractor.
Warily looking out for the hybrids, staying close to your owner.
The stitches were gone and everything was healed all nicely - that didn’t mean that you wanted to start over and get more bites that would need stitches. Once was enough. Hopefully Price and Nikolai understood that too.
Also, you didn’t want to get fucked dumb by those mutts again; they didn’t deserve your pussy. Especially not Ghost or Gaz. Not really Soap either, he had just been nice because he had to. You were sure. They were nothing but stupid working dogs, who didn’t know how to behave.
Your owner, John Price, looked in love; he was watching Nik just as much as he was watching the tractor. The stress that had sometimes followed him home when you lived in the city was no longer visible. It had left his bones, made him happy and pliable, clearly blossoming in his new role as a farmer. You loved him but what the fuck were you supposed to do with this whole situation? Pretend to be happy?
You were a pet, so it wasn’t like you had any options. And your attempts at persuading him to move back to the city hadn’t gone well. Resisting your ever present urge to let him fuck you, would probably not do you any good. Earn you a spanking from both him and Nikolai. They might even throw you to the hounds.
One of those said hounds were getting closer to you, the hybrid making you tense up a little.
“You’re looking good, princess,” Gaz said casually, shooting you an awfully charming smile, his tail wagging while you tipped your ears backwards instead of replying.
“Feeling better?”
You didn’t reply, merely stared at the tractor, boring as it was. Maybe if you ignored him, he would go away. He stepped closer to you, his dark gaze resting on you, while you stepped closer to John, growling as a warning.
“Behave,” Price said over his shoulder, clearly more interested in that Russian man of his, than your safety.
It only took another step and Gaz’s teeth a tad too close to you, to send you bolting out. Back inside it was then, you concluded, enough farming bullshit for today.
Only to meet Ghost in the way, his scarred face grinning smugly, ears tipping towards you.
“‘Ello pup.”
Nah, you weren’t fucking with that today. You managed to see the shadow of Soap before you bolted again.
Running still wasn’t your best talent; so though you knew it was stupid, you decided to do what you weren’t allowed to anyways. You crawled the wooden fence, ignoring the male hybrids' shouts and barks — as well as the fence’s slight squeak - and landed on the other side with a grunt. 
The corns were tall and you took a breath, looking over your shoulder, only to see a worried looking Soap being the closest.
He let out a concerned whimper.
“Dinnae lass,” he warned, a softness in his voice that you recognized from your moments inside.
You would deal with the consequences and the punishment that Price would give you for leaving the ground. It was better than getting your shoulders bitten to pieces - so you got up and rushed into the tall corn field. Abandoning the male hybrids.
Stupid. They were all stupid.
Maybe this should be your new go-to hiding spot. You could hear them bark aggressively but not getting nearer. They weren’t allowed to leave either. You felt your chest swell a little with pride over the idea. You wouldn't be gone for long, just until they lost interest in you.
It was several seconds before you stopped, panting with your tongue out. You couldn’t see the fence or the farm from all the corn by now, which finally meant some peace. Your tail wagged and your body relaxed, a soft wind playing with your fur for a moment, making the corn move around you, like waves in the ocean.
However, that peace didn’t last long.
“My my,” the voice almost appeared out of nowhere and you turned slowly, unsure but still afraid of what you would see, “what are you doing here, perrita? On my property?”
You knew Alejandro and Rodolfo had gotten a hybrid, but you had been too swept up in your own nightmare to ask about her; now, as she towered above you, seeming more wolf than dog, you would rather have one of the mutts on your own farm. A scared little whimper escaped you.
“You must be Price’s precious lapdog, no?” She asked, slowly moving in between the corn with ease, as she circled around you, fear making you stay still, “a little city puppy, forced to be out on a farm. How sad.”
There was no trace of sympathy in her voice. It took you a moment to swallow some spit and another moment to take a proper breath.
“I’ll go home again, I’m sorry.” You tried your best to seem submissive, leaning forward a little, tail tugged along your leg. You at least had your owner at the farm - but here? Here, with this new, wolf-like hybrid, you didn't have anyone. You weren’t even supposed to be here, weren’t allowed. Sure, you knew Alejandro and Rudy, but they also knew you weren’t supposed to be there.
“Hmmm,” she answered in a rumble, licking her teeth slowly, casually showing off her fangs, “what’s your name, perrita?”
She screamed danger. Her energy screamed ‘I can make worse wounds than them’ and you certainly didn’t feel like testing that. In fact, you would rather get as much distance between you and her as possible.
“D-Daisy.” It was the name Price had chosen, not that you were really called it. But you weren’t going to tell this hybrid woman who looked like she could swallow you whole, that you were usually called princess, pretty girl, puppy or sweetheart.
“I’m Valeria,” she replied, finally stopping her circling, only to step closer to you. She wasn’t really that tall, but her energy was as if she was,  she had strong arms and legs; scars littered her too, her hair short, ears big and tipped forward without a care in the world. Her collar was thick and sturdy, opposed to your own fancy one.
You almost wanted to point out that yours was prettier. That you were a lapdog, not one of the working ones, that you were not made to be played rough with. That you were no threat.
You could hear barking in the distance. Voices calling out for you. Even though you hadn’t met Valeria for more than a minute, you already knew you wanted to get a good distance between you and her.
“Uh nice to meet you, but I better get back home, sorry-“ you turned around quickly but before you could even think to bolt, strong arms were around you and the other dog hybrid pulled you close to her chest.
“Eres tan linda e ingenua,” she almost lovingly growled into your ear, and while you didn’t understand what she was saying, you were much more distracted by her tongue. She licked your cheek a couple of times, slow and wet strokes; you got the feeling that she might eat you raw without regret and you twisted a little in her grip, letting out a louder growl. She laughed, one of her hands pawing at your tit, claws sinking into the fabric. She smelled of danger and lust; like the mutts at home when they first got their dirty paws on you.
“I’m gonna enjoy me—“
“VALERIA!” Her name echoed through the fields, making both of you freeze. Like a warning rushing in between the corns, her name couldn’t be ignored.
She growled deeply, seeming annoyed with the disturbance, while you wanted to kiss whoever of your neighbors it was. She rolled her hips, humping your ass twice, before she was interrupted again.
“Valeria!” It was Alejandro, you realised then, who yelled once again, “ sé que la tienes! Let her go!”
With one deep sniff of you, while you whimpered, the wolf-looking hybrid finally let go of you.
“I won’t be as nice next time, perrita - now go, before I change my mind and take you from your boys.”
You didn’t need to be told that again and didn’t want to argue that they weren’t your boys - the moment she let go, you bolted towards the way you came. 
How they knew that she had gotten a hold of you wasn't clear, but it wasn’t like you were gonna turn around and ask Alejandro or Rudy.
The answer came to you anyways; one angry looking John Price stood with crossed arms, phone in hand. A grinning Nikolai next to him and three growling hybrids moving back and forth along the men and the fence. Every single one of them stilled and stared at you as you sheepishly walked to the fence, tail between your legs and ears tipped down.
You stood, just for a moment, with the fence in between you and the others. Considering staying there, as if that would be a good solution.
“Get your arse over here,” Price snapped, his voice stern and dark, as he put his phone in his pocket, marching towards you. 
You hastily and in a rather inexperienced manner, climbed the fence and got to the right side. Instantly, tears welled up in your eyes and you let out a whimper, almost ready to tell about the horrors you had just been through - only to bark loudly at the hybrids as they all charged towards you, hands touching you, only stopped by a sharp whistle. 
“Nyet,” Nikolai called harshly, “off her. Now.”
Soap and Gaz instantly let go, stepping back as John reached you, but Ghost didn’t move. His hand rested on your neck, pressing your collar against your skin, his nose almost fully pressed against your temple. 
“Let go.” Price’s voice was sharp and you let out a little whimper- not sure who of them you would rather deal with right now.
“She smells wrong,” Ghost replied, not moving, but his voice not as harsh as it could be, “smell of her.”
Her. You didn’t know whether Valeria would be in trouble over this or not. You had been the one to step into her territory anyways. She wasn't the one who had jumped a fence after all.
“We will fix that.” 
Ghost let out a grumble but after two seconds of staring at each other, the hybrid finally let go of you, earning himself a swift “Good boy.” 
Then Price grabbed into the ring in your collar and pulled, ignoring how you instantly broke into tears, excuses and explanations spilling from your lips like a waterfall, desperate to avoid punishment. You didn't want to stay with Valeria, but you didn’t want this either.
You were dragged past Nikolai who shared a short glance with Price - and they gave each other a short nod.
“C’mon boys,” Nikolai then called, the hybrids instantly moving to him, even though you could feel them staring at you, “we’re gonna join them.”
They were what? You cried harder, tugging at John’s arm, your owner ignoring your pleads and cries.
“I’m sorry sir, I got scared, I didn’t mean to run away,” you babbled, every second word followed by a small sob or whine, tail between your lets, almost making it hard to walk normally, “ they scared me, I was gonna come back, I’ll be good sir, I’ll behave! I wasn’t running away!”
There was no mercy from your owner, who just marched you towards the farmhouse that had almost become home by now.
If someone had told you a year ago that you would be a dog on a farm by now, surrounded by working hybrids, you would have laughed in their face. Loudly and impolitely.
You? Pretty lapdog living in the city out on a farm?
You weren’t even at the house yet, somehow crying harder because you felt so sorry for yourself in general. You were such a perfect lapdog, such a perfect being, forced to be out here, in the cold countryside. A tragedy.
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
The prong collars looked like they would choke too and you wanted to scream merely at the sight.
“I’m not running the risk of having my darling all bitten to pieces again - this will hopefully help you to remember.”
None of them seemed too happy about it; you couldn’t blame them, you wouldn’t want those either, but you were horrified by the idea of getting bitten as harshly as they did last time. If both Price and Nik hadn’t been there, you doubted it would be possible to get the collars on them.
You were still crying yourself, from the shame of having jumped over the fence and creating chaos, only resulting in this.
The moment they were allowed, they were on you, ignoring your whimpering and fingers trying to push them off - Soap was the nicest, helping you get your clothes off instead of letting the others rip them, even if all of them were obsessed with your smell. Or well, with how you smelled of Valeria to be exact.
Soap licked your cheek and you growled at him, tipping your ears back, trying to push him away, fingers against his chest; but he didn’t move, only pressed himself closer, growling back to prove he was stronger than you - that you were supposed to be submitting to him.
“They shouldn’t be this aggressive,” you heard Price point out to Nikolai, but you were too distracted by Soap grinding his still clothed crotch against your poor, exposed cunt - you whined his name, but he didn’t stop. 
“Gonn’ mark ye, hen,” he promised in a murmur, teeth sinking into your jaw for just a moment - a warning tug in the leash made him let go almost instantly, instead licking the spot a couple of times, “gonn’ make ye smell all bonnie again.”
Both Gaz and Ghost were barking, but they were both held by the collars by Price and Nik, kneeling next to them, clearly antsy.
“-are working dogs-” it was hard to hear them, over your own mind buzzing so much, over the barks and the pleasure that you hated, “-hierachy is importa-”, one of Soap’s hands disappeared and a moment later, you heard his fly get tugged down, “show them where the line is, so–”
You howled in a high pitched tone as he forced his cock inside you, making you twist and try to push Soap okay. The stretch was intense, burning despite how wet you felt. “It's okay, bonnie lass,” Soap growled, forcing his cock a little deeper into you, nosing at your shoulder, near one of your scent glands, his hands moving to grab onto your thighs, “we’re nae gonna hurt ye.”
You both knew it was a lie - but you at least trusted Soap a little more than the two other mutts who were watching, knowing he could control himself. They were barely able to sit still, tongues out, almost drooling, while their eyes were dark in a way that reminded you of that time in the shed.
He forced his cock deeper, the knot finally reaching the opening of your poor, stretched cunt and you let out a sound at the fear of it sliding inside you. The scent of Soap was already beginning to overwhelm the scent that Valeria had left behind against your will - a part of you wished you had fought her more, had attempted to hurt her more.
The cry that left you was pained and afraid - his fangs almost having forced its way through your skin; you were only saved by John, who pulled Soap back by the collar, the prongs digging into the hybrid’s skin.
“Behave, boy,” John snarled while a mixture of a whine and a growl left Soap, as he helplessly pawed at the collar, “No breaking skin - already told you.”
“‘m sorry, sorry,” he promised, a pained tone to his voice, “dinnae mean tae.”
You doubted it was true; there was a darkness in the air despite the way your owner tried handling them.
He was let go off and the moment the prongs didn’t painfully dig into his skin, he was on you again, tongue on the indent he had left, his cock pressed into you again, his tail wagging.
“‘m sorry,” he barely managed to say in between his licks and moans, before his hands were back on you, his moaning louder, as he ignored your whines of slowing down. Your own hands grabbed onto his mohawk and ears, but the hybrid did nothing but moan even louder, moving his hips a little upwards and fuck - he hit the perfect spot, grinning like a feral hound when he noticed and heard your sounds.
You came against your will, crying out and spasming around him, his hands grabbing harder onto your thighs, claws teasing the skin.
He was panting and moaning like a hound, mounting you like there was nothing in his mind but the feeling of your cunt.
“Gonna fill ye up,” Soap promised, words barely escaping his mouth, drool dripping down on you; not like you cared, too gone yourself to really do so.
“DON'T knot her,” Price’s word cut through the air like a sharp knife, slicing into your mind; you wanted him to knot you, a part of you realized, no you needed him too - while another screamed in delight of not having to be stuck to him.
“Nnngh,” his hips were going so fast it almost hurt as they clashed against your skin, “please sir, please plea—“
“No.”
The hand that appeared made you shudder - and then a second later, Soap came, almost a guttural scream leaving him; you could feel Price’s fingers near your cock, stopping him from sliding his knot into you. 
“Later,” Price answered, then pulling Soap back by the collar and hair, your own hands slipping easily from him, “we don’t have the time to wait for all of you to knot her right now.”
The moment he was pulled away, you moved, whimpering and curling to the side, wincing as cum slid out from your pussy; it wasn’t John’s, you wanted it to be your owners. You barely had time to breathe before Nik released one of the others. Gaz pushed you onto your stomach - one hand on your neck to keep you down as you snarled.
“Wait,” you barked, ears tipping down “lemme breathe, for fucks sake—“
“Need you, puppy,” Gaz merely replied, grabbing onto your collar and tugging, his other hand pulling on your tail, ignoring your yelp, “gonna make it all okay again.”
“Nothing happened-“ you snarled, trying to make him let go, but you separately rose to your knees in order to levitate the pressure on your tail.
“Why did you smell like her then, huh?” He all but snarled, finally letting go of your collar, to push down his own pants, “stinking of her lust!”
You tried twisting to grip onto his ears to tug at them, hoping it would make him let go of you but he merely let go of you fully for a moment - your wrists were caught by his hands and he slammed them against the wooden floor.
“Be nice, собака,” Nik warned him, “I’m in no mood for broken bones.”
You barely heard him nor Gaz’ aggressive reply; you were too busy, having a realization. 
They were jealous ; you weren’t sure why it had taken you so fucking long to realize. The three mutts were jealous somebody else, somebody they didn’t know, had touched you and hadn’t you been so fucking upset, you might have laughed.
Instead, you felt a cock forcing its way into your cunt, making you howl in pleasure against your will; the slide was easier this time as Gaz fucked you, as you were already wet from the round with Soap - and now with his cum as well, Gaz fucked you almost smoothly. If not more aggressively than Soap had.
It didn’t take long before his teeth sank into your skin, the first two seconds it was nothing more than an extra grip, his cock roughly thrusting into you as if attempting to move your organs, his drool sliding along your skin, mixing with your sweat. His claws were digging into your skin slightly, but even more into the floor - while you were a mess, panting and attempting to growl in between your pathetic moans, barely able to see straight.
The pressure he bit you with changed quickly however and suddenly you were whining in pain, so loudly that you almost didn’t recognize your own voice.
Apparently Gaz had tried to bite Price in aggression over being ripped away from ‘his bitch’ as Nik called it, and you heard the harsh words and slaps, while you sank down a little, your tits pressed against the cold floor, your cunt empty. 
He was back as soon as he disappeared though, pulling you up again, only to almost instantly try to bite you again – halfway pulled away once more. You looked over your shoulder, seeing how the prong collar dug into his skin for a short moment until Price let go of him again.
The moment he was back, you turned however, using the moment to grab onto one of his long, dark ears and tug; it was almost a squeal that left Gaz and you heard both the hybrids bark and growl, Nik saying something – but it was the harsh spank from the leather leash that made you loosen your grip. 
“Behave, Princess,” John was squatting down next to you, strong hand on your pretty collar; it stood out so violently when compared to the others’ current prong collars, “or I’ll get you a collar too.”
“They’re mean!” you whimpered, giving him your best puppy eyes, before sending Gaz an angry look, as he was barely held back by John.
“Well you’re not quite playing nice either, eh?” There was a slight amusement in his voice but you didn’t get to comment on it, before he moved again.
Price gave Gaz more leash and the hybrid was instantly on you again, but this time Price didn’t let go of the metal ring in your own collar, keeping you in place, as if to remind you to behave; to remember he was right here, calling the shots.
“Yeah, Princess,” Gaz mocked, pushing into your cunt again with a moan, the movement in his hips exposing the fact that he was wagging his tail, “Behave.”
“Shut up!” you hissed angrily, a tug in the collar reminding you that Price was right there. 
Gaz’ hands were mostly on your hips - he nuzzled against your back and neck, licking your shoulders and in between your shoulder blades - he bit you a couple of times, but they were barely anything more than nips, a gentle tug on his collar reminding him to behave.
Then one of his hands moved, almost catching you off guard and making you whimper - it slid beneath your stomach, pawing at it for a moment, before it found its way to your cunt where the two of you were still connected, his thrusts still hard; he touched your clit without hesitation, snarling out words you could barely recognize. Mercilessly forcing you towards another orgasm.
Price let go of your collar and you let your head slumber down against the floor, wincing at the small pool of drool that had been created, hating how you pushed back against Gaz, the dual pleasure of his cock hitting that right spot and the fingers on your clit, so good you could barely breathe.
You barely heard Price’s command of not knotting you, from the mere tsunami of pleasure that overtook your body as you came, a howl that barely made any sound, snapping of your teeth and the pawing at the floor. You tightened around his cock, the knot having been so close, oh so close to being forced into your over oversensitive cunt - but then it was pulled out of you, almost making you sob.
Cum spurted on top of your lower back and ass cheeks, before Gaz willingly went - you could hear the almost instant sound of him and Soap making out with each other. And there was only one person back, which meant you had to go now.
A hand grabbed onto your ankle, dragging you backwards as you managed to crawl forwards a few steps - you turned around, back on the floor, raising your opposite leg to kick Ghost in the face, but the other hybrid caught it easily; grinning at you, almost feral-like, lust heavy in the air. Sometimes you forgot they had been in the military for so long.
Leather connected to your skin once more, this time on your raised thigh, a whine leaving you, your eyes flickering to look up at John who stood with the leash curled in his hand, ready to spank you with it once more.
“behave,” John hissed at you, while Ghost chuckled. Idiot.
You didn’t have much time to argue, Ghost letting go of your ankles, just to grab onto your thighs and pull you closer; he was kneeling, almost pulling you into his lap, that feral grin still there, fangs exposed.
He leant over you much quicker than you had anticipated, ignoring your growling and snapping with teeth - one hand resting next to your head, the other pulling down his boxers, pants already open.
Was his cock this big last time? It was like you couldn’t remember the last time right now, you could barely think, in fact, your mind was overwhelmed with so many things. Pleasure, oversensitivity, pain and anger - his dick seemed inhumanely long.
“Not so snappy now, huh?” he crooned, voice low, his free hand grabbing onto your plush thigh, fingers digging into the fat, ears tipped towards you as he spoke, “cockdumb already?”
“nnngh,” you tried pushing at his clothed chest, twisting in his grip, but it was no use; it was like the cock inside you kept you from doing anything. Somehow you managed a small “shutup” and that was enough to set Ghost going.
“Gonna teach you to not go whoring again,” Ghost snarled against your skin, tongue sloppily leaving a wet trail of spit over one of your bouncing tits, simply ignoring your hands trying to push his face out of the way, a plethora of moans and small yaps leaving you as he didn’t stop fucking you with that monster cock of his. You knew you were being watched, both by your owner and his boyfriend, as well as the two other hybrids, it only added to the humiliation of being turned on.
“Belong to us,” his words were barely audible as he growled them, the wet sounds and rustling of his clothes seeming to overtake it, “not her.”
“I won’t, won’t go, won–” you were barely aware of the words slipping from your lips, the volume rising as you felt his teeth scrape against a spot on your shoulder over your right breast, “nonon, please, I wont–”
“Ghost–” Price’s warning was stern, the little tug in the prong collar making him grumble, licking over the spot a couple of times - your eyes met. 
Ghost’s eyes almost seemed like they wanted to own you too; as if it was no longer John who you bowed to, but the pack that you didn’t want, on a farm you didn’t want to be. His thrusts quickened and then his eyelids lowered together with his head – biting down into your skin.
Despite his fast attempt at breaking your skin, mauling your flesh into his, Price was quicker – pulling him back by the collar. He held an extra grip on his hair and you managed to look up, see through the tears.
It was like there was a flood in your ears, Price looking mad, Ghost’s ears tipping backwards as he spoke.
Fighting to get some air into your lungs, you panted and tried wiggling free. Ghost’s fingers merely dug deeper into your plush thigh even though he was currently pulled back by the prong collar, the tips of his claws pressing against your skin as a warning.
The moment he let go, Ghost was back at it, staring down at you with a dark smile, grunts and small moans even leaving him. It took a couple of moments before Price let him have enough leash to bend down over you again and this time Ghost growled into your ears instead of your skin. Licking your furry ears while you whimpered at the feeling and the words.
They owned you; were going to breed you, use you, keep Valeria away, and do whatever they needed to keep you. You were theirs. The moment you let us, he had panted, we will love you.
There was an odd feeling in your stomach, almost as if you were going to piss yourself, but with no mercy from any of the men, one of your hands dug into his short hair and the other grabbed onto his shoulder as you screamed.
It had been a while since you squirted and it took you by surprise, just as it did the others. There were several barks, voices but then Ghost was fucking you even harder than before, bordering on painful, forcing his mouth against yours. You came a second time, this time not squirting but it almost felt more intense.
Ghost came just a moment later, perhaps caught by surprise himself, but he made sure not to knot you. 
The world was spinning around you. There were teardrops in your lashes as you squinted up at the hybrid, who was still pushed inside you. Price’s hand petting him shortly on the head before pulling him back.
There was speech but you barely noticed - then strong hands pulled you up into a lap. The overpowering scent of leather and oil told you who it was and despite your slight hate for Nik, your tail wagged as he pulled you into his arms, cooing at you.
“Such a strong puppy,” he praised, one of his hands drying away some of your drool, caressing your cheek as he sat on the floor with you on his lap, cum no doubt dripping onto his clothes, “you deserve treat for being so good, da?”
Compared to the first time you had met Nikolai, you didn’t want to bite his hand anymore - he clearly didn’t fear you doing so either. You snuggled into his hand, nodding as you squinted up at him, a  small “uh-huh” leaving you.
His hand disappeared and then there was a faint rustling of plastic - even without seeing it, you smelled it. It was that mouthwatering scent that made you weak in your knees that first time and your nose instantly sniffed, almost trying to sit up further to get a look of where it was - to get it before the boys did. Nikolai laughed, letting out a “there you go, milaya,” letting you grab the piece of jerky from his finger, instantly sinking your teeth into it with a pleased sigh. Your tail wagging a little again as you heard Soap whining over not getting a piece.
You even had to take a bath with them afterwards. Your life was officially over - you made sure to tell Price that, who just huffed and rolled his eyes. Sure, you weren’t the biggest fan of showers, but you wanted the cum off and you wanted a bath in the tub… alone. That was your thing.
“- ‘nd they’re gonna use up my shampoo and my conditioner -” you continued overdramatically as Nik carried you in front of John, the russian man merely snorting at your pitiful complaining. 
“We’ll buy more-” John tried to point out, but to no avail, life might as well be over for you right now.
“- ‘nd my brushes - all my nice brushes!”
“I will be sure tae use yers, Mo ghràdh,” Soap happily proclaimed, sending you a wink, fully naked as he was, his usual collar back on, small red marks on his neck from where the prongs had been, “I will use theim the wrong way. Just fer ye.”
Gaz snickered and even Ghost let out a chuckle.
“Jooohn,” you whined, only struggling a little as Nik sat you down in the tub, the water already nice and warm, your poor body having needed this, “I’m gonna need new brushes.”
“I doubt that, Princess,” he cooed, petting your hair, “Now who wants to join in th–”
Soap was in the tub, sliding in behind you before John could even finish his question, happily ignoring your pout and growl.
“Dinnae be like that,” he crooned, “where is yer special shampoo?”
This day had been awful.
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
“Princess.”
You almost jumped as the voice called for you and you turned, squinting slightly in suspicion at the sight. Gaz stood in the doorway, all calmly, looking at you, playing a little with his gloves. He didn’t look aggressive and didn’t smell turned on; in fact, he looked pretty harmless, his tail wagging ever so slightly, ears turning towards you and an almost shy smile.
“What?” you asked, sitting up in the dog bed, crossing your arms, not caring about sounding nice, looking him over for a moment before adding, “you’re dragging in mud.”
He looked down at his shoes, letting out a little ‘oh’. They weren’t really supposed to be in here, so you didn’t really understand why Gaz stood there. You didn’t really care either.
The other might be beautiful, but he was still not one of your favorite people. 
“I - want to show you something,” he finally said, one of his charming smile appearing, though it was a little more careful this time, “Soap said you would probably like it.”
“What is it?” You didn’t sound too impressed.
“It's a surprise,” he smiled a little more.
“If it's your knots, then you can–”
“Jeez,” he rolled his eyes, as if they weren’t fucking you silly on the livingroom floor the other day, “it’s not. Nothing like that.”
“Promise?”
“I do,” he answered, wagging a little more than before, “Swear on my tail.”
"Hm. Where is it?”
“In the barn.”
You scrunched your nose at the mention of the barn, the idea of being stamped to death by a horse already scaring you.
“It’s nothing scary - I wouldn’t bring you if it was.”
You let out a sigh, before getting up - he went to the hallway again and you followed, stealing one of John’s jackets as well as a pair of his boots, before following Gaz outside. 
“Some air would do you good once in a while, ya’ know,” Gaz said after a few moments, “we’re not that bad all of the time, Princess.”
You huffed, wondering for a moment if you should just turn around and go back. “You haven’t really proved me otherwise.”
He let out a hum that almost sounded agreeable but opened one of the doors to the barn, ushering you inside.
“It’s all good, I promise,” he said once more and you reminded yourself, that if he tricked you, you were going to snap off his tail. Pretty as it was.
He steered you to a booth where you noticed the heat lamp at first, more than anything else - but then you saw them, letting out a little gasp.
Tiny baby goats, all snuggled together in the hay beneath the lamp. A few of the mothers stood nearby and one of them came to the door of the booth, sniffing at Gaz’ hand, before letting out a bleat - then turning around again.
“They’re adorable,” you whispered, looking back at the babies, some of them looking at you, others sleeping with no worries in the world. 
“Aren’t they?” Gaz asked with a smile, “They were born yesterday night. Come.”
You let out a scared sound as Gaz opened the door to the booth.
“Won’t the mothers attack us?” you didn’t like how Gaz chuckled to your genuine, fearful question but he shook his head.
“Nah, me ‘nd the others hang out with the animals all the time.” He explained, petting one of the mothers who came to greet him for a moment.
It was cute. You had to admit that, even with your limited love of the farm animals.
“But I don’t.” you pointed out, still standing in the door of the booth, afraid to step into the hay and join the other as he sat down next to the baby goats.
“No, but the mothers know I won’t let a predator near,” he explained gently, “Not at daytime and not during the night.”
“Oh.”
There was something special over this that you could not explain. You didn’t want to explain it. You sat down next to Gaz as he patted the spot, still a little unsure about the momma goats - but none of them battered an eye as Gaz took your hand and made you gently pet one of the babies.
“They’re so tiny,” you whispered, almost to yourself, for once not hating or fearing Gaz. At least for right now, you were just in a moment together with him, doing something that you hadn’t expected would be that nice.
68 notes · View notes
Note
Good day!
I am a white woman of a certain age and when I was growing up in the Seattle area, the word for this hairstyle
Tumblr media
was always "dreadlocks", shortened by people my young (at the time) age to "dreads".
For several years now I have noticed I never see "dreads" or really even "dreadlocks" anymore. It's locs.
I'm not confused by the verbiage, I've never not understood what "locs" means, but I do still inherently think of the style as "dreads" first, simply because that was formative for me.
Is this shift just a living language thing, where common usage just replaced one term with another? Was my experience regional, and only in the PacNW were they ever called anything other than locs? Is "dreads" actually racist and I've just never been exposed to the information that I should have been in that regard?
(And if so, I sincerely apologize for its use in this ask and mean absolutely no disrespect)
As an addition to this question, I did try to look it up myself first, but Google is such ass now (or I just couldn't get the right search terms for seo to yield results) that I couldn't find anything useful on it. I did find WAY too many pictures of white people with this hairstyle, and an overabundance of sales pages for white hair extensions in some variation of this style. I wonder if that's common, or if it's just because Google knows I'm white and the search results reflect that. Either way, it was obnoxious that I had to word my searches extra specifically to get Black hair in my results.
Thanks for all you do!
To answer your questions in not the right order:
1. It's both. You are white, which means the things you research are probably going to be more geared towards an algorithm that fellow white folk use. They gotta advertise to you!!! And, Google is just racist. It's why I try to convince people on here that you have to get specific with your searches and use key words you find to dig deeper to reach what you want. Because if you just type in "Black hair styles" you're still gonna get a lot of white people and AI. It's obnoxious ASF and always has been. Can't just toss your hands up at the first wall.
2. It's a cultural thing, trying to reform the imagery of the hairstyle, a sort of reclamation if you will. I've mentioned in prior lessons that not everyone is going to get up in arms if you say dreads or dreadlocks. I prefer locs. It's mainly because saying dread has a connotation that my hair is dirty, nasty, uncared for. People, often white and in positions of power, hear dreadlocks and they think weed and tangles and lazy stereotypes that just aren't true. So it wouldn't be racist if you called someone's locs dreads, but it would be racist if they told you "I prefer locs/please say locs because-" and you said "well when I grew up it was dreads" okay well that's not how I identify them, so.
77 notes · View notes
keferon · 1 day ago
Text
Well I just finished improvising chapter one of Mecha AU :D
I recommend you read it on BlueSky because the formatting and redacting there is better but you also can read it all here under the cut
Summary:
Jazz huddles in the cockpit, turns on the comm channel, and habitually ignores the static
“This is 1061. I don't know if you guys can hear me, but I have news. I've found other mechs in space! But..”
He taps nervously on the console panel
“I am not sure they're piloted by humans.”
---------
Jazz isn't sure at what exact moment his life turned into anime completely. It was probably when a huge monster appeared in the sky above his home? Yeah...it must have been then.
The big green thing blew up almost half the city before it was destroyed with so much explosives that the government probably had to empty their pockets to scrape together that much.
In the future, of course, they had to repeat the feat.
And then again.
And again.
Either the government of these monsters had a lot of extra money, or the monsters were free volunteers.
Jazz tried to watch from a distance. Ideally from a place where it would be hard to yank him out. Even with a stick. Even for a massive space monster.
%%%%
If you think about it. This wasn't anime yet. It was more in apocalypse film territory.
The anime started when a smiling man in a surprisingly expensive suit came to Jazz and offered to take a few tests to see if Jazz was suitable for some sort of special earth protection program of his. The pay was suspiciously good, and the list of medical forms was suspiciously long. But last week, a huge shark-like thing had trampled Jazz's last workplace and well...there wasn't much else for him to go to.
The man smiled and looked like a toothpaste advertisement as he shook his hand.
Yeah, the anime definitely started with that.
-----
It's actually amazing how a shitty thing like alien monsters and giant robots can become habitual. Maybe even beloved. Not monsters, of course. No.
But robots? Definitely.
Jazz is one hell of a pilot. One of the best, as his superiors like to say. They don't really have a way to test who's the greatest pilot in the world because the life span of the average pilot isn't usually very long. Jazz doesn't mind. He knows he's good, but he doesn't want to think about how good. Other pilots like to compete for the top of the charts. Numbers, kills, promotions and everything else that goes with it.
Jazz is mostly just vibing.
His early tests don't show very high or impressive potential for compatibility with combat mech technology, but once he's out of the simulator and into the real thing....
Jazz can't explain it. He just feels it. He just stops seeing the dashboard in front of him, stops thinking about how comfortable the pilot's seat is or how to hold the controls.
Jazz gets in the cockpit and stops being human.
Jazz gets in the cockpit and turns into metal and machinery. Rockets and joints. Hydraulics and thousands of sensors.
His hands become huge, able to crush a car. His legs gain new articulations. His body moves in ways completely impossible for a human and it feels so familiar, as if he's always been like this.
It feels like him. Like home.
Jazz isn't interested in promotions because important people aren't allowed to operate mechs. Not allowed to be mechs.
Jazz wants to be a mech.
He's just not ready to trade that feeling for anything else.
————
War gets crazier as time goes on.
Every time Jazz thinks it's going to end now, someone steps on Chekhov's gun in the ceiling.
The aliens aren't going to die out or leave.
Humans refuse to go extinct.
It's a tug-of-war that inevitably leads both sides to think that if they can't win with the ‘pull harder’ method, they should try something new. Something creative.
That’s how Jazz finds himself in the middle of developing a mech capable of travelling through space.
Because whoever is making the decisions up there has decided it's time to get more aggressive and start fighting on more than just their own territory.
The aliens have so far been too comfortable taking advantage of the fact that space is inaccessible to humans. They've always had places to retreat to. Places to hide to lick their wounds. Jazz thinks it makes sense. Sort of. If there's anything left in this world that respects logic.
The development department takes some time and an absolutely obscene amount of money to figure out how to launch a giant robot into space without the human inside it turning to paste.
They show an incredible ability to organize space and play a game of tetris where instead of blocks there are vital systems like air storage and provisions falling from the ceiling.
Jazz, as someone who has been forced to participate in hundreds of their tests and observe their tenacity, is genuinely proud of them.
His pride even overcomes the fact that they have been close to turning him into a paste more times than he is comfortable counting.
They stick him in hundreds of variations of different armor and plating and make him perform the same boring motions a million times to “make sure there's no risk of depressurization”.
Sometimes he's shoved to the bottom of a swimming pool and asked to perform mission simulations without coming out of the water. This is the only part of development that Jazz actually genuinely loves. Swimming is fun when you're metal and don't have to breathe.
%%%%%%%
At the end of the tests, Jazz is left with a hundred or so system upgrades, increased weight by almost half, nice new armor, and added height. His legs now have another joint in them. Some of the pilots complain that it hurts them to even look at Jazz's freakishly bendy legs, but their opinion fades under the weight of delight.
Jazz loves the new joints. New joints mean he can navigate even wackier surfaces now.
For the first official space mission, the superiors choose him without much hesitation.
Space is unfamiliar territory. And no matter how hard you try, you can't fully recreate its conditions without being there. This means that no amount of training and simulations can fully prepare pilots for what will be waiting for them there. They're going to have to adjust. Improvise. Find ways and solutions on the spot.
Jazz is good at that. Exceptionally and impressively good. He also has enough thirst for adventures in him to go along with the idea.
But most importantly, he's undeniably the best when it comes to controlling a battle mech. His ability to “ I don’t know I’m just vibing you know” is envy-inducing and wary at the same time. Mechs are huge and heavy, and in the hands of someone who doesn't fully know what to do, they're pretty damn clumsy.
Jazz is one of the few who can control a battle mech as naturally as his own human body.
In theory that means if he's thrown into a zero-gravity environment, he can handle it just fine. No worse than if he could do it without the mech. Or at least not fail dramatically enough to embarrass the entire engineering department.
Jazz promises to do his best, shakes all the hands necessary for pretty pictures, and uploads a file with simple instructions.
This mission shouldn't be anything too bizarre except for its location. He is warned that a lot can go wrong, but then immediately assured that a whole crowd of experts will be waiting and watching and will respond at his first call.
Jazz politely thanks them and does a few simple movements to make sure all the joints in his legs are working properly.
His boss smiles like he's advertizing toothpaste and promises him a nice big raise if he'll continue to work on space missions.
Jazz somehow manages to forget that this is where anime usually begins.
________________
Things are going very wrong very fast. Most unfairly, for a completely unexplainable reason.
Jazz is quite successful at getting around in space. The lack of gravity is incredibly uncomfortable at first, but he adapts. It takes time to understand the movement, but nothing beyond the plan.
At one point he even has fun. He spots a satellite orbiting the Earth and waves cheerfully at it, hoping it is recording.
He confidently completes the exploration and is about to turn back when something huge and possessing an uncomfortable number of limbs materializes in front of him literally out of nowhere.
He is surprised and a little disgusted, but the monster's appearance wasn't entirely unforeseen. His instructions are simple. Anything larger than an elephant and not a human being must become dead.
A fight with a strange space thing is no problem. The problem is that the thing is losing very quickly and is clearly panicking about it. Jazz is just about to rip another leg off of it when an unidentifiable bright green light flashes around them and suddenly the whole world starts to feel bloody wrong. Space feels like it's stretching and shrinking at the same time. Jazz can't tell if he's feeling the pressure or if he's being torn apart.
He's screaming. Not from pain, but from surprise.
And finds himself standing in the middle of a crowd of similar monsters.
The one he was just about to kill makes some gurgling, panicked noises. The other monsters freeze, either surprised or frightened, it's impossible to tell.
Jazz manages to notice that he's inside some kind of room. His brain finds no suitable alternative for a quick description. He has never been in such strange places before
He doesn't even have time to take a step when there's a muffled click from behind and he's blinded by the green light again.
He doesn't know what to expect when he opens his eyes.
The first time, the strange green light dragged him through every possible sensation in just a couple of seconds, and that was enough to scare the hell out of him.
The second time, it feels like it lasts forever. He tries to look at his watch, but his eyes refuse to work properly. Which ones of his eyes? He doesn't know. One overlaps with the other. He feels terribly tiny but at the same time it's like his body is everywhere at once. Somewhere in the far corner of his brain, flickers the thought that mixing experimental technology with obscure alien magic is a spectacularly bad idea. The amount of things that could go wrong wouldn't fit in any insurance policy, even if they were writing small text under a microscope. Who ‘they’ are, he's not imagining. His boss and his advertising teeth probably.
Jazz clenches his fists, closes his eyes, and tries his hardest to at least just not pass out. The Engineering Department will owe him so much pool time for all of this.
That's assuming he survives long enough to see the engineering department again.
He tries to focus on the simple things.
Everything around him feels like ‘WRONG’.
He can't breathe.
Maybe the urge to stay awake has been overrated.
He's falling.
*********
When he wakes up, the first thing he notices is cold hands on his head.
Someone is gently turning it, probably to examine him.
There are voices above him. He doesn't recognize them and can't distinguish what they're saying.
The palms of the hands are hard. They feel like they're made of metal.
He hears more voices.
For a scary second he worries his brain is broken, but the more he listens the more he realizes it's just another language.
A completely...unfamiliar language. Unlike anything he's ever heard before.
Hands move away and he chooses that moment to open his eyes.
Long time ago, he used to go to all sorts of movie and art fan festivals. There were always a lot of cosplayers trying to outdo each other in the art of character creation.
The picture that meets him is actually a surprisingly strong reminder of those times.
The people crowded around him are extremely colorful. Also quite small compared to his metallic body.
The strange thin lilac creature is saying something. It sounds questioning.
The other lilac creature shakes its head negatively and judging by its intonation redirects the question to someone else.
Jazz tries to figure out if the green light could have made him see things. Because it's unlikely the afterlife looks like this.
Someone very furry peeks out from behind the backs of the lilac creatures and authoritatively pulls out a thing that looks like a regular tablet. They poke at it for a couple seconds and then show everyone in the crowd a picture of some kind of robot simultaneously pointing at Jazz.
The crowd disagrees.
One of them says something poking Jazz with his hand. He wonders idly if it's the same hand. No, it's the wrong size.
The picture changes to a different one.
The effect is the same.
Another round of poking and prodding later, Jazz's fried brain gets it.
They're trying to figure out what he is.
Little colorful things. Probably never seen a robot like this before?
He doesn't have time to process the thought properly when the floor he's lying on starts to shake violently.
The creatures shriek in frustration and Jazz, who until then had been sure he was in some kind of building, suddenly realizes that. Oh, shit. No. The surface is moving.
Is he being taken somewhere???
Jazz looks around in confusion, trying to figure out who it belongs to.
He makes an attempt to jump to his feet and all the creatures crowding around him all start screaming at the same time. He doesn't understand it, but it sounds hysterical, angry and so damn unpleasant to his poor head. Someone shrieks and from somewhere to his left there are sharp clicks and the floor shakes and Jazz wants to go back to the bottom of the pool where it's dark and quiet and
Someone picks him up under his elbows from behind. Not exerting much pressure or holding him down. Just offering support.
A new voice comes from the back of the room. Louder and much lower than all the previous ones and, notably...not from the floor.
And meets the gaze of another giant robot.
__________________________
Side note: to those of you who went to hang out with me while I was writing. Thank you hejdhfngn I appreciate the company❤️
Oh by the way I’m in the process of writing the Mecha pilot au right now you can read if you want :D
1K notes · View notes
cyarikaplease · 1 day ago
Text
if i could give you the moon
no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader
summary: You move into a new neighborhood and decide to join the local YMCA to meet people, bringing you to Joel Miller and his wife, Liz. You develop a small crush on him, keeping it to yourself. But when he reveals to you that he’s in open marriage, you decide to take a chance on him, no matter the consequences.
Warnings: lots of angst and smut
You’re standing in a long line at the YMCA waiting to sign up for a membership. It’s kind of crowded and you’re wondering if this is a bad idea. But then again the Y is so close to your new apartment. It would be kind of pointless to sign up for a membership somewhere else that’s farther away and probably more expensive. So you wait until it’s your turn. The woman sitting at the desk hands you your little YMCA card for your keychain and says, “The gym is upstairs and the pool is down the hallway on the left. Both have locker rooms attached.”
You nod and head down the hallway, pushing past the doors into the pool room. The strong scent of chlorine hits your nose as you enter and your feet make a splish sound when you walk on the wet tile. You spot the door to the locker room on the other side of the pool, scanning the room as you do but trying to make it not look like you’re staring at people. The truth is you just want friends. You’re new to the community and eager to make friends. And the Y seemed like a great starting point for new friendships. 
It seems to be mainly women at the pool today which makes you feel a little more comfortable. You go into the locker room and change into your swimsuit. And that’s when you meet a woman a little older than you named Liz who’s using a locker two spots down from you.
“I’ve never seen you here before,” she says, not looking at you while she changes into her swimsuit. 
“Just joined today,” you respond. 
“I’m Liz Miller,” she says, turning to you and holding out her hand, “My husband and I come here.”
You tell her your name and ask, “Do you live in the neighborhood?”
“A few streets over. You?”
“My building’s two blocks away.”
“Nice. Are you new in town?”
“Ahh so you don’t know anyone. Well I’ll be your swimming buddy today.”
“Sounds good to me,” you tell her, following her back out to the pool.
You get in the pool without needing to adjust to the temperature; it’s already pretty warm. You swim laps with Liz, stopping occasionally to talk in between. Your eyes burn from the chlorine and you make a mental note to pick up goggles. She tells you about her husband, Joel. He works in construction and she works in advertising. She’s leaving for a work trip tonight for two weeks in New York City. Your first friend and she’s already leaving for two weeks. Looks like it's back to square one for now. Eventually it’s time for her to go and you’re feeling a little winded anyway. You get changed back into your t-shirt and gym shorts in the locker room and skip using their shower. You live two blocks away so what’s the point in showering here. You walk back out to the lobby together and that’s when you meet Joel. 
You’re taken aback for a moment at just how good looking he is, even under the shitty fluorescent lights in the lobby. His hair is a little damp, presumably from sweating after a good workout. His facial hair is a bit patchy but it’s endearing.  His warm brown eyes feel like they’re staring directly into your soul as he shakes your hand, his touch lingering just a little too long. But Liz doesn’t seem to notice. You notice that he’s not wearing his wedding band although Liz is wearing hers. Maybe he just forgot to put it back on after working out? It’s a shame he’s married because he’s totally your type. But you’re just glad to have two new acquaintances. 
“Now you have two familiar faces here,” Liz says, smiling at you. 
The three of you walk out to the parking lot together but they go to separate cars. You get the sense that they don’t seem like a couple that’s codependent on each other. Or they both came here straight from their jobs. Who are you to judge? You just met them. You have no idea what the dynamic of their relationship is like.
You walk home as the sun starts to set. It’s a warm evening in late June and the Y membership is about to come in handy when you need to cool off from scorching summer heat. You go home and take a shower before winding down for the evening and heading off to bed.
Work goes by pretty slowly the next day. You’re anxious to swim or even work out in the gym to exert some of your stress. You’re also just eager for a chance to make more friends. You come from work and change into work out clothes, bringing your swimsuit with you in your bag. You walk to the Y and contemplate working out in the gym but opt for the pool instead. You change in the locker room and step into the pool. It’s pretty dead tonight. There’s only 3 other people swimming in this ginormous pool with you. You swim a few laps by yourself before getting bored and deciding to leave. But as you get out of the pool you notice none other than Joel Miller walking through the door on the other side of the room. He catches you looking at him and immediately walks directly towards you. You feel a little self conscious for a moment at the fact that you’re greeting him in your sopping wet swimsuit that’s clinging to your body. 
“Hey, how are you?” he smiles. 
“I’m alright! Did Liz leave last night?”
“She did. She left around one in the morning.”
“Damn that’s late. Aren’t you tired from driving her to the airport?”
“Nah, she took a taxi.”
Maybe your suspicions about them not being codependent were right afterall?
“But anyway I came to check on you before I left for the night.”
“You’re sweet. I was just about to change and leave, too.”
“I’ll wait for you in the lobby,” he says, gesturing back towards the door.
“Uh, sure! I won’t be too long,” you say before turning and walking to the locker room, maybe speedwalking just a tad. For some reason you got the sense he was staring at your ass as you walked but you didn’t dare turn around and look. You dry off and change into your clothes hastily before walking to meet Joel in the lobby, butterflies swelling in your stomach for some reason. 
You meet him in the lobby with a big smile on his face, drinking in the sight of you with your flushed and hair wet. 
“Get a good workout in?” he asks.
“Mhm. You?”
“I did. It was a lighter workout for me today.”
“That’s nice… Well I’ll see you around?”
“Mind if I walk you home?”
You’re taken aback at first because why would he want to do that? But then age you don’t know the neighborhood that well yet and it is getting dark out. But you also only live two blocks away so what’s the point of him walking you home. 
But before you can contemplate it even more you say yes. 
And so you’re walking to your apartment side by side, not really saying anything at first until you can’t bear the uncomfortable silence anymore. You make small talk until you reach your building.
“Well, this is me,” you say, stopping in front of the door to your apartment building.
“What do you have planned for the rest of the night?” he asks.
“Uhh not much. I have a new bookshelf I’ve been meaning to build since I moved in. Maybe I’ll start that tonight?”
“I can help with that,” he says, taking a step towards you. 
You gulp at the idea of Joel Miller alone with you in your apartment. This really isn’t a good idea. But he’s the one who offered. And you can have him leave straight after it’s done. 
“S-sure,” you say.
You lead him through the hallways and flights of stairs in your building until you reach your place. You slide the key into the lock and go inside, holding the door open for him as he enters. 
“Sorry it’s kind of a mess. I’m still not one hundred percent moved in yet,” you say, feeling a little self conscious at the state of your apartment. 
“Nothing to apologize for,” he shrugs, “Now where’s this bookshelf?”
You bring him into your bedroom of all places and point to the flat cardboard box leaning against the wall.
“There. As you can see I haven’t even attempted it.”
“That’s okay,” he chuckles.
You sit on the edge of your bed as he goes to work. You watch him construct your bookshelf little by little before you ask if he needs anything.
“Want a bottle of water?” you ask, rising from the bed. 
“Sure,” he says, looking up at you from his position on your floor.
You go into your kitchen and grab a cold bottle of water from your fridge. You go back into your bedroom and crouch down on the floor to hand it to him. And that’s when he locks eyes with you, staring at you intently until his lips suddenly come crashing into yours. 
You pull away immediately and shout, “What the hell?! You’re married! What do you think you’re doing?!”
“Hey,” he says, placing his hands on your shoulders, “I’m in an open marriage.”
You raise your eyebrow in disbelief but before you can say anything he speaks first.
“I’m being completely serious,” he says, his big brown eyes pleading with you.
It’s not completely unbelievable. Some of your friends were in open relationships. You yourself have never been in one and you’ve never been with someone that is. But deep down, you want him and he seems sincere. 
“Listen, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you before I just did that. I understand if you want me to leave,” he says, starting to get up.
You sigh.
“No you can stay… but you’re right, that would’ve been nice to know beforehand.”
“Does that mean I can do it again?” he whispers, his eyes searching your face for an answer.
You close your eyes and the butterflies swell in your stomach again. Somewhere in your mind there’s a small voice telling you this is a bad idea. But it’s small enough that you ignore it.
“Yes,” you whisper.
He lips meet yours again as he presses you against the edge of your bed. His tongue grazes your lips, begging you for access. And when you give it to him his tongue explores your mouth as his hands caress your face. You kiss him back and slip him a little tongue, too, but it's clear that he wants to be the dominant one. You give in and let him as his mouth, face and hands completely overtake you. He pulls away for a moment and you two look into each other’s eyes. Almost as if you’re reading each other’s minds you both stand up and move to the bed. You lay down and your chlorine crusted hair splays out on the pillow. You silently wish you got to shower and shave before this happened. A sexual encounter with your new acquaintance was not in the plans for tonight. 
He pulls his shirt over his head and removes his shorts before hovering over you. You take in the sight of his naked body, tanned skin peppered with beauty marks. His legs are toned and muscular just like the rest of him. But what he does have is a small pudgy belly that maybe doesn’t particularly match the rest of his physique but is still attractive nonetheless. His large hands move up your thigh and underneath your shorts. He slides them off in one fluid motion and moves down to your thighs, spreading them open. He drinks in the sight of your cunt rapidly getting wet in anticipation for his touch. He bends down and licks one long, slow streak up all the way up to your clit. And that’s when you ask, “Are you sure? I didn’t get a chance to shower after swimming…”
“Don’t care,” he murmurs against your core, sending vibrations through you.
You shudder at the sensation and let him continue, relaxing a little. His tongue works small slow circles around your clit as you raise your hips a little, pressing them more on his face in response to his touch. He hooks his arms around your thighs and pulls you even closer into him. With his arms around your thighs you can’t squirm as much but that also lets him press his lips, tongue and nose directly into your cunt, bringing you closer to orgasm. You cum against his face, coating him with your release, soaking his nose, lips, chin… practically the whole lower half of his face. He laps up the rest of your juices before bringing his face by yours.
“You taste so good, darlin’. Ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.”
You feel your cheeks go hot at his praise. He goes to take off his shorts and asks, “Did you want me to use a condom?” 
“That’s okay. I’m on the pill,” you say, still feeling a little breathless.
He chuckles at the post orgasm inflection in your voice and says, “Okay, darlin’.”
You spread your legs for him and he gathers your release from your cunt on his fingers. You shudder at the sensation. He slicks his already hard cock and aligns himself with your entrance, thrusting into you slowly until you take all of his length. His hands grasp your waist as he begins to fuck you relentlessly, burying his cock deep into you with each slam of his hips. He showers you in praise, telling you how you’re such a good girl for taking his cock so well. All you can do is moan and whimper in response. 
You’re sure your neighbors can hear between the creaks of your bed frame, both of your moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. But you’re entirely too blissed out to care. With one last forceful motion of his hips against yours you come undone, your cunt fluttering around his cock. Your orgasm pulsates through your core and sends shockwaves throughout your body. Before both of you know it he’s releasing his load inside you, painting your inside in thick ropes of cum as he lets out a guttural moan. He pulls out of you and immediately starts apologizing but you just laugh.
“That’s what the pill’s for,” you chuckle. 
He lays down next to you on the bed and already starts yawning. 
“You can crash here if you want,” you say, “But you owe me a finished book shelf in the morning,” you chuckle. 
“Whatever you want, darlin’. Tomorrow’s my day off,” he murmurs against you, the sleepiness evident in his voice. 
“Deal,” you whisper, before drifting off to sleep yourself. 
You wake up the next morning wrapped in bedsheets and the scent of Joel Miller as he sleeps pressed against you. The realization of last night’s decisions is setting in and while the anxiety in your gut rises, something about it also feels so right. You peel yourself off of him and go to the bathroom. He stirs and wakes up watching your naked form from behind as he whistles at the sight. 
“Shut up,” you laugh, “Hope you’re ready to build that bookshelf.”
“Oh I’ll get right on it, darlin’,” he says, sneaking up on you from behind and wrapping his arms around your waist. You lean back against him and close your eyes. All of your anxieties and hangs ups about the situation melt away as he holds you in front of your bathroom mirror. He presses a kiss on the top of your head and goes to work on your bookshelf. You make him a cup of coffee and bring it to him after you brush your teeth. He gets the bookshelf done in no time and the two of you are left with the rest of your Saturday, completely free. You decide to take a shower together, washing each other in this new form of intimacy. You realize he doesn’t have any other clothes to change into so that’s when he has the idea to walk back to the Y, pick up his truck and head back to his house. You throw on your clothes and get ready to walk back to his truck, silently hoping the parking lot wouldn’t be too busy this morning. What would people say if they saw you two walking to his truck together? If he’s in an open marriage, though, does it even matter?
Before you leave he says, “You stay here. I’ll come back for you.”
You nod and wait for him in the lobby of your building. He pulls up front and you hop in the passenger seat. Awkward silence fills the drive until you get to his house. He brings you inside and leads you to his bedroom. You look at the pictures of him and Liz while he packs. You’re staring at a wedding photo when you think to ask, “So how long have you been in an open marriage?”
He pauses for a moment and says, “Only about a year. I found out she was cheating on me and I proposed the idea of an open marriage instead of getting a divorce.”
You’re conflicted. You feel bad for him that he went through that but he also seems happy now, content with his decision on an open marriage as far as you can tell. 
“I’m sorry,” you say, “That must’ve been really hard for you.”
“It was,” he replies, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, “But I’m doing much better now. I don’t tell a lot of people about the open marriage, though. My friends and family still don’t know because it’ll open a whole line of questioning as to how we got here. And then I’ll have to tell them how she cheated on me and I just… I don’t think I can do that.”
He sounds hurt; betrayed. You turn around to face him and meet his eyes, filled with sadness, and say, “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”
“Thank you,” he whispers before kissing you, “Come on. Let’s go have a fun weekend together. I packed enough clothes to get me to work Monday morning.”
“Okay,” you nod, following him back down the stairs. 
At least they don't have kids, you think to yourself. That would make this situation about a million times messier. 
You get back his truck and drive back to your place, the tension in the air dissipated after his heartfelt confession. You spend the rest of the weekend together going through a cycle of fucking, watching TV, showering and talking. You learn so much about him and his background; his family, where he grew up, what he does for a living. He tells you everything and you feel you can tell him everything, too. The connection you feel with him is one you’ve never felt with anyone else before. It almost makes you forget for a moment that he’s married to another woman. 
But now it’s Monday and your fun weekend with Joel has come to an end. He has two long days at work ahead of him so you can’t go to the Y together until Wednesday night. You’re a little sad but you get it. He can’t spend all of his waking hours with you. The next two days drag on and after you get home from work you find yourself feeling lonely. And it doesn’t help that your sheets smell like him. 
But after two agonizingly slow days you finally get to see him again. You walk to the Y with a little pep in your step at the thought of seeing him again. You find him in the lobby and he greets you with a smile.
“I thought I’d swim with you today instead,” he says. 
“Sure,” you tell him before both of you walk to the pool room together, separating as each of you enter your respective locker rooms. You change quickly and meet him by the pool which by some miracle was completely empty tonight. You get in the pool with him and swim a few laps but mainly the two of you spend time messing around. Until he pulls you close and looks you in the eye. The heat of the pool room and his hot breath are almost too much to bear. But then he kisses you and suddenly you forget all about how you are. The kiss grows more and more passionate and you start to worry that someone will walk in and see.  You pull away to tell him to stop but he grabs your hand and leads up the pool steps. 
“What are you doing?” you ask as your bare feet hit the slick tile. 
“Going somewhere more private,” he says leading you to the single stall bathroom on the same wall as the locker rooms. 
“Here?” you question him.
“Why not? It’s empty tonight,” he says, opening the bathroom door, “Ladies first.”
You go in the bathroom and he follows you, locking the door behind him. He wastes no time reaching for the strap of your swimsuit and peeling it off of you. He slides off his swim trunks and you bring your hand to his cock, caressing it lightly to tease him.
“You’re killin’ me, darlin’. Please,” he whispers by your ear.
You giggle and give into him, wrapping as much of your hand as you can around his cock. 
“Fuck,” he whispers, closing his eyes in pleasure. 
You love making him feel good and you especially love when he vocalizes it. You spit in your hand and stroke him more, picking up the pace. But before he can finish he stops you and licks his fingers, bringing them to the entrance of your cunt and teasing you this time. You whine at the featherlight touch and beg for more. 
“Doesn’t feel so good huh darlin’?” he teases. 
“Please,” you whine. 
“Fine,” he sighs, sounding fake annoyed before pushing a finger into you slowly. 
You lean back against the sink and spread your legs wider for him, begging for more. He gets off on watching you writhe in pleasure from just one finger before slipping in another. He curls them upwards, emitting soft moans from you as he brings you closer to the edge. But before you can cum he pulls them out of you and slathers his cock with your wetness. You whine at the sudden absence but you’re cut off by the sensation of his cock slamming into you. Your breath hitches and he watches you get adjusted to his size, eyes scanning up and down your body from your face to your tits to your cunt gripping his cock. He supports you against the edge of the sink and pumps into you with more force. His cock hits your g-spot perfectly with every slam of his hips. You know you’re not going to last long between that and the adrenaline of fucking in a public space. Your orgasm washes over you as your cunt grips and releases his cock like a vice. He releases his load into you and you’re filled with the familiar sensation of his cum coating your insides. He pulls out of you and places a sloppy kiss on your lips before whispering, “Good girl.”
He helps you stand on your feet and you both go to put your swimsuits back on. 
“I’ll go first, okay?” he says. 
You nod and he swiftly leaves the bathroom, locking the door behind him. You wait a few minutes before leaving the bathroom and returning to a thankfully empty pool room. 
“Change and go home?” he says, looking over at you.
You nod and go into the locker room to change, in disbelief that this is your life and that Joel Miller just fucked you in a bathroom at the Y. This would become your routine for the next two weeks until Liz comes home, fucking at the Y, your place and even his. Something about doing it as his house felt slightly wrong though. And you know exactly why but you choose to bury that feeling. 
It’s the night before Liz comes home from her work trip and you’re at your apartment, spending one last night together until he has to go home to his wife. 
“When will we do this again?” you ask hopefully. 
“I’ll let you know when, darlin’,” he says with the gentlest tone. 
You nod and your stomach starts to hurt, worrying at the possibility that this was it for the two of you. 
Liz is officially home and you’ll see her at the pool tonight. You have mixed feelings about it. Two weeks ago you would’ve been excited to reunite with your new friend. But now after learning everything you know you’re not sure about how you feel about her. 
You walk to the Y and your legs feel like jelly. You’re also nervous to face her again after everything that happened with you and Joel and it makes you wonder… Did he tell her about the two of you? Is he planning on it if he hasn’t already? Regardless, you're not going to be the one to tell her. He’s the one married to her; he can do it himself. 
She greets you with a warm smile in the locker room, commenting about how she was in need of a good workout. You just smile and nod, for fear that if you open your mouth you’re going to spill everything to her. 
You swim together and keep the conversation mainly about her work trip. She tells you she has to go on another one in two weeks and you fear that that will be the next time Joel will want you. 
You finish your laps and change in the locker room before meeting Joel in the lobby. He treats you differently around her, like he did when you first met him two weeks ago. You watch them walk to their separate cars before walking home. The realization hits you on the way back. He’s not going to be yours for at least two weeks. 
You were correct in your assumption. The second Liz leaves he’s calling you up, asking if he can come over. And you give in without thinking. 
You open your door when he arrives and let him in before asking, “How long is she gone this time?”
“Just a week,” he says softly. 
Before the mood can shift into a more depressing tone he wraps his arms around you and presses wet, sloppy kisses on your neck. You missed him too much to care about how upset you are deep down, letting him take you again tonight. 
You go into your bedroom and he pushes you down onto the bed. He pulls off your shorts and he spreads your thighs apart. 
“God, I missed this so much,” he says before bringing his tongue to your core. 
You close your eyes and grips the sheets for purchases as his tongue works your cunt. He pulls one orgasm out of you quickly and already begins working on the second. He slicks his fingers and inserts them into you slowly before returning his tongue to your clit. It’s almost to the point of overstimulation until your second orgasm washes over you. You coat the lower half of his face and his hand all the way down to his wrist with your release. He lays on the bed next to you as your thighs continue to shiver from the aftershocks of your high. You go to reach for the waistband of his shorts but he stops you.
“Tonight’s just you darlin’.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mhmm. Missed you so much.”
You kiss his cheek and fall into the crook of his neck. He rubs your back as you two catch up, telling each other about the past two weeks without one another. You missed him so much and the voice in your head is small enough to ignore it again.
And this becomes your routine for the summer. Whenever Liz is away Joel is yours. Sometimes she’s gone for a couple weeks at a time. Sometimes it’s just a few days. She’s also not always going away for work either. Joel tells you she visits her boyfriend, too. Which in return makes you less guilty about your situation with Joel. But you also feel weird about becoming her friend so you keep her at an arm’s length, beget letting the friendship transcending past the Y. You’ve made other friends in the process, though, upstairs in the gym. You use the gym on the days you know for sure that he won’t be there, usually Mondays and Tuesdays. 
One day as you’re on the elliptical a girl named Julien strikes up a conversation with you. She’s a year older than you and she introduces you to her girlfriend, Angela. Another day when you’re using the pool, you meet an older woman, old enough to be your grandmother, named Agnes. She does water aerobics to keep herself active in her older age. She tells you that you remind her of her granddaughter. She’s one of your favorite people to spend time with. Another day as you’re walking through the lobby as you’re leaving you accidentally bump into a woman named Marina. She’s a teacher at the local elementary school. Sometimes you’ll join her for happy hour after work. Even if you’re in a messy situation with Joel you’re glad that you finally have a small cluster of friends. But the thing is… They’re all close to Liz in some way. Marina went to the same sorority as Liz. Agnes’s husband worked with Liz’s father. And Julien is Liz’s cousin. None of them have mentioned anything about Liz and Joel being in an open marriage. But then you think back to what Joel said; about keeping it on the down low and that quells your anxieties… for now. 
This routine brings you all the way to the start of fall. Joel’s birthday passes and Liz is home for that, meaning you can’t celebrate with him until her next work trip in a few days. She’ll be gone for five days this time. 
He wants you to stay with him while she’s gone and you reluctantly agree. You’ve never spent more than one night at his place. But the truth is… you’ve fallen in love with him. And you would do anything to make him happy. 
You pack your bag and he picks you up at your apartment. The drive to his place is tense and the tension follows you all the way up to his bedroom where it finally dissipates.
You push him down onto the edge of the bed for him to sit. You slide his pants down where you see his cock pitching a tent in his boxers, a dark spot forming where the pre cum is leaking. You pull down his boxers and waste no time taking him in your mouth as far as he can go. Your hand wraps around the part you can’t fit. You swirl your tongue around his head and your other hand goes to cup his balls. You want to suck him until completion but he has other plans. He pulls you up his face and brings you in for a sloppy kiss before falling onto his back. And you know exactly what he wants. You pull your shirt over your head and take off your pants, straddling him until you sink onto his cock. Both of you sigh at the sensation and you begin to rock your hips against him. His cock is buried deep inside you and with every motion of your hips it hits you at the perfect angle. Your hands are flat on his chest and his hands grip your waist, squeezing you until you cum around him, soaking his cock and groin with your wet release. You’re filled with the familiar sensation of his cum spilling into you before you hop off of him and lay down beside him. 
“That was amazing, you’re amazing,” he sighs, kissing the top of your head. 
You’ve never been with someone that made you feel so loved and valued like Joel has. And that’s what breaks your heart the most. This is the greatest love you’ve ever known and he’s married to someone else. 
You fall asleep in each other's arms and wake up the next morning to go to the Y. You tell him to drop you off at your place so you can walk there, so it doesn’t look suspicious. But he doesn’t care. You feel a pit form in your stomach. Someone is going to catch you two together and you know it. And it begs the question… is it really an open marriage if he has to hide you from everyone in his life? That thought has crossed your mind before, of course. But you’ve been able to bury that feeling down… until now. 
He pulls into the parking lot and you scan it for anyone you may know. But that’s pointless. Everyone here knows Joel and Liz are married. 
You get out of the truck the whole walk to the front door your head is spinning in different directions in paranoia. Joel brings a hand to the small of your back as you walk in. The automatic doors slide open and you see no one you know fortunately. 
You go to the pool together and walk to the locker rooms, there’s small clusters of people spread about but again no one you know. You get changed in the women’s locker room and your paranoia worsens. You step back out to the pool room and your ears start ringing. You’re on the brink of a panic attack. Joel takes one look at you and immediately knows something’s up. He pulls you into the single stall bathroom that you’ve fucked dozens of times in and caresses your face. He doesn’t have to say anything. He knows you’re not doing well and all he can do is hold you. Just when you think you’re about to calm down the door opens. He forgot to lock it. And you see none other than Julien staring at you wide eyed and mouth agape. She doesn’t know what to do for a moment and you’re both staring back at her while she stares at you. You feel like you’re gonna throw up. Suddenly she turns on her heel and bolts. Without thinking you follow her and she goes all the way to the parking lot. She stops and turns to face you, tears springing in her eyes. 
“Don’t tell me it’s true,” she says.
What did she mean by that? Were guys suspected of being involved? Were you guys not careful enough?
“I… You don’t understand. He told me they’re in an open marriage. I never would’ve…” you trail off, but you can’t lie to her. 
She scoffs and says, “Did you really fall for that? You can’t possibly be that fucking stupid. He’s already cheated on Liz once and that was his lie the first time.” 
You feel complete panic overtake you in its purest form. Everything you’ve built, every friendship you made feels like it’s all coming crashing down on you. 
She goes to leave and you go to follow her again before she turns and snaps at you, “Don’t!” 
You watch her get in her car and drive off and you’re left in the parking lot, completely dumbfounded. 
You go back inside as you start profusely sobbing, trying to make it back to the locker room with your head down. You feel like everyone is staring at you; like you have a million eyes all hyper focused on you. You don’t see Joel when you return to the pool room but in all honesty he’s the last person you want to see right now. You hastily change in the locker room and go to leave the pool room and that’s when you spot Agnes in the shallow end. She doesn’t even have to say anything, she has the most disappointed look on her face. Tears sting your eyes once again and you practically run out of there and into the parking lot. You stop for a moment to catch your breath before taking off down the street towards home. You reach your door and your hands are shaking as you insert the key. You fall into your apartment and collapse onto the floor. The shock and betrayal you feel right now is indescribable; it’s a pain you’ve never known before. You lost the person you love and all of the friends you’ve made. All of it slipped away from you right before your eyes. 
Not only are you feeling betrayed, you’re also feeling like the biggest fucking idiot in the world. You gave him the greatest love you’ve ever given another person and it was all built on lies. And you feel stupid for falling for those lies. 
You hear your door open but you don’t bother to look up. You know it’s Joel but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. He collapses on the floor and pulls you into him. But you’re falling apart in his arms. He’s holding you like you’re going to slip away from him; like you’re water in his hands and he can’t keep you whole. Your tears are soaking his shirt and you can feel him crying against you, too. 
Somewhere inside you you know that he never understood the love you gave him. He’s crying but he doesn’t understand why. 
To you, your love was your greatest gift to him. But to Joel, it was anything but. 
40 notes · View notes
danieandflars · 1 year ago
Note
What's terra ignota?
It's a science fiction series by Ada Palmer about a 25th century Earth which thinks itself a peaceful utopia, and its descent into chaos as the cracks in that utopia start to appear. It is somehow both deeply profound and the most bonkers, complicated thing to explain and I love it so much, it's my favourite series.
Features:
18th century larping
Magic 13 year old with Toy Story powers
The worst and most pathetic guy imaginable
Extremely serious discussions about religion, gender, freedom, peace, politics etc. etc.
Pokemon are real
It's definitely not for everyone and very stylistically weird, which some people are going to love and some are going to hate. I recommend taking the first chapter at face value, I find it a pretty accurate snapshot of how the story will feel to read, and if you're offput by it from the beginning, it's probably not going to get better for you.
But if you *like* that shit. :) get ready.
96 notes · View notes
miusato · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Drawing them like this feels so so wronggggg
153 notes · View notes
elftwink · 1 year ago
Text
to preface this post i am anti-advertising i think we should explode the entire industry but it's sooo funny when you people make posts like "and they don't even work!!" like. sorry to be the bearer of bad news but yes they do. that's why we have to put up with so many despite everyone hating them and thinking its annoying. because they actually work really well and make a shit load of money
718 notes · View notes
add1ctedt0you · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Untamed - Episode 19
Throughout the night, he [Jiang Cheng] had somehow managed to sleep a couple of times. The first reason was that, having been too tired from crying himself weak, he couldn't help from passing out. The second reason was that he still had the hope that this might be a nightmare. He couldn't wait to wake up after some rest and open his eyes to find himself lying inside of his room back in Lotus Pier. His father would be wiping his sword in the main hall. His mother would be angry again and complaining, scolding Wei Wuxian who winked in a funny way. His sister would be in the kitchen, thinking as hard as she could about what to make today. His shidi would be refusing to do their morning lessons properly and jumping around.
The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, Chapter 59, Poisons- Part Four
398 notes · View notes
alexturner2005 · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Nick O'Malley's old band, The Dodgems via omalley_yellamo & yellamo0
47 notes · View notes
bethanydelleman · 16 hours ago
Text
Two extra points:
People often erroneously assume that all/most of the Bertram's income comes from Antigua. This is most likely untrue. Sir Thomas was in financial trouble because Antigua was giving poor returns AND Tom ran up some massive debts. He probably could have dealt with one or the other, not both. Plantations in England are mentioned and a five mile park around the manor house, so it's likely they have a good income in England which Antigua supplements.
Secondly, the novel never reveals what exactly Sir Thomas had or fixed in Antigua and he is presented as a moral character throughout. His redemption at the end is about mercenary ambitions in England and in regards to his children. Whatever point Jane Austen was trying to make about slavery, I never trust anyone who says they know exactly what it was. It might be more about Fanny Price/the position of women in British society (a point explicitly made in Emma*) which is not super palatable today. It may be about how the entire gentry's wealth is founded in suffering. I don't know. But I find people who dismiss the entire book because Sir Thomas is (possibly) a slave owner really annoying. Just because we are explicitly told Sir Thomas has interest in Antigua doesn't mean any of the other extremely wealthy men are innocent. What kind of trade made those Bingleys so wealthy?
*“Excuse me, ma’am, but this is by no means my intention; I make no inquiry myself, and should be sorry to have any made by my friends. When I am quite determined as to the time, I am not at all afraid of being long unemployed. There are places in town, offices, where inquiry would soon produce something—Offices for the sale—not quite of human flesh—but of human intellect.”
“Oh! my dear, human flesh! You quite shock me; if you mean a fling at the slave-trade, I assure you Mr. Suckling was always rather a friend to the abolition.” “I did not mean, I was not thinking of the slave-trade,” replied Jane; “governess-trade, I assure you, was all that I had in view; widely different certainly as to the guilt of those who carry it on; but as to the greater misery of the victims, I do not know where it lies. But I only mean to say that there are advertising offices, and that by applying to them I should have no doubt of very soon meeting with something that would do.”
Emma, V 2, Ch XVII
Don’t Write Off Sir Thomas
Sir Thomas is a very complex character and it’s important to understand him. He is both a deeply moral person and involved in slavery and that makes him human.
Yes, Sir Thomas is probably a slave owner, or a person who invests in sugar plantations that use slavery. But that is not how he sees himself. He probably doesn’t even think about it much, he sees himself as a moral father, a good member of parliament, and a good husband. And the tricky part is that he can reasonably be both.
Slavery is bad (obviously), but we are also on a very precarious high horse when we judge Sir Thomas and the rest of Regency England. Most people then probably didn’t think about the origin of their sugar, just like we today don’t. Most people probably thought slavery was unfortunate, but how else do they get cotton or tea? It’s just how the economy works! It wasn’t in front of them, they had their own problems, they forgot, or they reasoned, or they justified.
Many many product TODAY (like chocolate and tea) are produced by slaves or in very slave-like conditions, some things in the very same countries. We know, or should know, that companies use child labour and that offshore factories in so many countries are terrible and inhumane. We should know that the cheap products we buy are made by people living in near slavery. It’s just how the economy works! It isn’t in front of us; we forget, we reason, and we justify.
Sir Thomas is not any better or worse than us. He does what many people do, he compartmentalizes. He does something totally immoral during the day and then comes home and believes he’s a moral person. That’s just his job (or investment), it’s not him. He goes to church, he supports the poor around Mansfield, and tries to raise his children with principles. Just because he’s much closer and much more involved in the evil doesn’t acquit anyone else. And just because slavery was clearly wrong, doesn’t mean that any of us are right.
So instead of just writing off Sir Thomas as evil because he’s involved in slavery, we should take a moment to wonder what someone in 200 years will think of us, and our economy, and our rationalizations of evil.
(This is why the 1999 adaption, which made him into a flatly evil character, did not do anything to forward our understanding of slavery. A nuanced discussion of how a person can both see themselves as moral and be involved in such a distasteful activity is the message we actually need to hear)
85 notes · View notes
icewindandboringhorror · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
finally finished all of one character's entire quests/optional dialogue/questions/etc.... 100,000 words... .... aughhh
#Given some of it IS lines of code and stuff but like.. minus all that it's still probably at least 85 - 95k words hhhhhh#AND I have to do this for another 3 characters. Then a few partial quests for 3 others. THEN the other random misc stuff in the game#(like there are public areas in the city like a park and a forest that you can go and do a few things at. and chat with a few random#townsfolk that aren't actually full characters or anything. And there's a community board where you can#browse some of the random job advertisments or silly things that happen to be posted around#and also pick up a few odd jobs of your own to help earn coin to buy gifts for the npcs. etc. etc.)#Originally I was thinking like 'ah I'll make a short little game just to try it out! :3 It'll take maybe a few months!''#haha........................hee hee........................................hoho#Also evil that it would have been done already if I didn't totally drop itand stop working on it for like 5 years randomly#i could have made 5 years of steady slow progress gradually. instead of like 'one initial idea dump + about a month of art and writing'#...... 5 year break..... 'sudden mad dash to try to get probably 400.000 words written in a year or less' lol#I just really want to be done and have something out there already so it can lead to doing other things in my world..!!!!!! T o T#Like this can be an introduction and then maybe from that I can make other games. or short story anthologies. or other such things#But there needs to be some initially not very complex easy to interact with starting point first I guess... if that makes sense#That's part of why I stopped posting worldbuilding lore dump stuff as often because its' like.. massive walls of novella length#text are much more inacessible to engage with than like.. ooh a game! and there's characters! so its more approachable! and theres#visuals! oo! and the text is broken up in small bits line by line with other things in betwen! oo! etc. etc. lol#Not that THIS is even very accessible. I think dialogue heavy interactive fiction/visual novel type stuff is pretty niche and considered#boring or tedious compared to something with more ''gamplay'' like where you can actually move around in a world#and shoot things or whatever lol. But its an inbetween point. something SLIGHTLY#more accesible for now. Since i just dont have the budget or means or ability to make some skyrim type thing obviously LOL#Though maybe if theres any interest in the visual novel that could lead to making other things too. or at least I hope. I have a VERY cool#idea for a more ''gamey'' type of game that is a super fun concept and etc. but I would need to hire at least 2 people to make it.. ough..#I could do all the writing and probably half of the art. But I think I'd inevitably need a 3d artist and someone who can Code For Real hbjh#the system for ren'py (the thing I'm making a visual novel in) is not that complicated if you stick to just simple dialogue and stuff.#Making a whole moderately sized 3d game with minigames in it and a bunch of quest features and etc. would be out of my simplistic scope#''just learn it yourself!!' ... i barely manage to eat and sleep reliably every day lol... i do not function well enough to spend months#learning that many new skills. I already have a lot of of things I'm good at (not in a braggy way but just factually like.. i already have#a wide variety of different things under my belt).. at some point I have to just be happy with what i CAN already do and focus on that#and admit I need to get outside help sometimes ghjbh... NO more new skills/hobbies!!! ... ANYWAY
23 notes · View notes
shift-shaping · 10 days ago
Text
hahahahahahaha
7 notes · View notes
waywardsalt · 4 months ago
Text
picked up a copy of and read the king in yellow (signalis reasons) and going in was like hmmmmm this probably wont end up being something i take inspiration from for the fic it’d be too on the nose to take inspiration from the king in yellow and i dont want much horror inspiration haha. and then like half of the book is romance anyways im so fucked either way yayyyy
10 notes · View notes
steelycunt · 1 year ago
Text
‘gay retelling of a classic!’ ‘feminist sapphic twist on this greek myth!’ why don’t you write a better book than that. i think we deserve better books than that
57 notes · View notes
illiana-mystery · 4 months ago
Text
Anyone else see this?
Shout out to my lovely mutual @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky for bringing this to my attention.
9 notes · View notes