#it was vile and unforgivable

[gayofthefae]

It zooms in on El when Max says

"The day that he died. I think that's why I just stood there. Not because I was scared or weak but because...I didn't know if he deserved to be saved."

[penguinpartypalooza]

I'm taking my life back. You can't hurt me anymore.

[ciderjacks]

being native rn feels insane. Like at some point shit just becomes really funny. White americans are so insanely INSANELY deluded all you can do is laugh at them, because if you dont laugh your head will explode into flames and you’ll go out into the streets indiscriminately stabbing white people like your life depends on it.

[txttletale]

why is spyfall part 2 on your list but not part 1? is there a substantial difference between the two?

(frankly i barely remember those episodes beyond the fact the master was in them and there was something about an aeroplane.)

part 1 is genuinely promising! it ends with a fun reveal (if questionably handled), the setup of 'doctor who is doing a spy thriller pastiche' is a fun high concept idea, it made it look like season 12 might have been worth watching. then part 2 torpedos all hope anyone may have had instantly

[the-tiniest-demigod]

WHEN WERE YALL GONNA TELL ME THERES A REMAKE OF PURBLE PLACE ON STEAM????

[cuteniaarts]

What a shame… you always had such beautiful hair

[whumpyourdamnpears]

I would love an introduction to your characters

-- @another-whump-sideblog

(I’m not sure if I should include face claims in this introduction. Perhaps I should reblog it with some?) Characters are from this story

Dani is the main character and our whumpee. She’s twenty-two years old and a waitress at a small-town diner. She’s strong-willed, snarky, and entirely exhausted with you and your bullshit. When she does something unforgivable to one of her patrons, she lands herself in our whumper’s, Jack, cabin in the woods, states away from the life she’d been living

Max is Dani’s “friend” (it’s complicated) who tasks himself with finding out what happened to Dani when no one else will, including their local law enforcement. He’s hardworking, caring, and, quite frankly, a nervous wreck. This whole situation is working him to the bone, and it’s certainly not helping him with his rampant anxiety disorder

Jack is one of our stars of the show, our fifty-something-year-old serial killer who’s been doing this since he was in his twenties. He’d be a vision of religious piety if, y’know, he didn’t take women back to his isolated cabin, torture, and kill them in the name of faith. He’s hardworking and resourceful, which he’d need to be, considering he lives off-the-grid and lives a self-sustaining lifestyle

Sarah is Jack’s daughter. She’s nineteen years old, and she’s never been off the family property. She’s grown up believing whatever her father has told her about the world, how it’s filled with bad and dangerous people and that it’s safer for her to be isolated from it (the irony is astounding). She’s a loving and kind person, although a little awkward due to her social isolation, but she’s really indoctrinated in what she’s been taught her entire life. Which means she’s not much of a help to Dani. Not yet

[technicoloryuri]

You're never gonna believe what they're making me do for money

[sunny-talks-about-alex-clones]

in you go, Viling!

[bigtiddydevilbf]

I haven't finished the book but The Shining movie did Jack Torrence so fucking dirty. It's like they didn't even know the story, like they were given the synopsis for it and slapped some shit together calling it a day

[ziracona]

Makes me crazy when I see people seriously debating the morality of vampire lifestyles and they’re like “Actually, any vampire who robs a blood bank instead of feeding on random humans is much /more/ evil because hospitals need them for medical procedures and they’re not an unlimited resource, whereas an attacked human not drained dry will make their own blood back to normal eventually,” as if the human body is the only aspect in play in this scenario and snagging a bag of A+ is a universally net -1000 karmic action, while the lasting trauma to some mom on the way to pick up kids from piano lessons being assaulted by a monster that rips into your neck in a dark alley and drains you within an inch of your life isn’t a quantifiable aspect of the equation whatsoever

[rabbithaver]

i''m so pathetic i'm so useless i am so worthless i am a fundamentally vile disgusting selfih person and i deserve to suffer for it

[beast-of-the-void]

.

[ofcorpses]

rereading my favorite underappreciated book series reawakened the need to be obsessed with the worst villain ever i need to split his head open with a sledge hammer i need to crack his chest open and play with his organs i need to see him tortured i need to see him scared i am so normal about him

[moechies]

toji ❤︎’s head from virgins . .

he’s super mean.

toji holds your head still with a tilt, forcing you to look up at him. your eyes water from the sting of his grappling fingers tangled in your hair, unforgiving.

you’re situated before him, fat cock sliding against the side of your dewy cheek. it’s embarrassing and vile, but you can’t help yourself from sticking your tongue out for a taste, just one.

“nasty girl .”

he taps the pudgy tip against your lips, in which you open on command. surely he wouldn’t have to tell you that much.

drool and pre dribbles from your leaking mouth, dirtying your thighs and the floors below you, making him cringe at the mess. the one he’d have to tidy up later. this is what he gets for trying to fuck on a virgin, he presumes.

nonetheless, that’d be a worry for later.

for now, all he could focus on is your soft, watery mouth. uncontrollably producing saliva , making it a perfect place to stick his dick in. and to add onto that, you’re cute. it’s like a 2 in 1, he jokes to himself.

“open wider . don’t panic, or you’ll bite down .”

he grumbles, squeezing in a finger into your mouth besides his cock to prevent you from biting down. it elicits an uncontrollable gag, one that has you squeezing your eyes tight in order to halt your tears.

he hears your inaudible mumbles of ‘no, no,’ most likely because his girth is well beyond what a virgin should be able to take in her mouth. you seem to be no different, gently prying at his fingers and moaning onto his dick; which doesn’t help your case.

how could you not panic ? he was huge, and it hurt. your throat burned viciously, although roughly 4 to 5 inches was still yet to be inside your mouth. you attempt to push him away, pressing against his meaty thighs, but to no avail.

“behave now, little one.” he tugs at your hair, pulling your mouth off his dick and what’s left is truly adorable. a cute, braindead little cock-sucker , your drool coating your chin and trailing down your body, your gaze leading off somewhere he couldn’t care less about.

he rubs his cock head against your cheek once again, forcing your attention back onto him.

“y’r daddy didn’t teach ya any manners?”

“h-he did—“

“so what’re you bein’ so messy for ?”

he grins when you attempt to tidy yourself to the best of your ability, wiping away the spit and tears that coat your face.

“‘s okay. this daddy’ll teach you how to do it right .”

[beloveds-embrace]

Dukedom au masterlist (yes i need to update it ik) and we will not talk abt the abrupt ending 😭

The grand ballroom of glittered with the light of a thousand candles, their flames dancing across marble floors and golden fixtures hung from the ceilings. A symphony played softly in the background, a perfect complement to the hum of ongoing conversation and chatter. You stood at the center of it all, draped in a gown of midnight blue silk, embroidered with silver thread that mirrored the stars. A gift from Simon, one that had you staring at the beautiful dress in awe.

Tonight, you were the very image of grace and poise.

Your face and movements are calm and collected, hiding what you truly feel beneath. Lately, whispers of dishonor had begun circulating; rumors that your husband had fled a border skirmish back when he’d been deployed, abandoning his men, yet had paid for the matter to be buried. Vile lies, born of cowardice and malice. John’s name, his reputation, and the honor of your house were at stake; disloyalty towards the empire was seen as treason, and that was unforgivable.

You would not allow it.

The first spark of rage had ignited the moment you’d overheard the vile accusations from another lady, one of your more arrogant rivals who had laughed snidely. From there, the rumors spread like wildfire, poisoning the halls of the court and society.

But you were no stranger to such games like these. Tonight, after much planning, you’ll put an end to this farce.

You began with your loyal ladies-in-waiting. Each one owed their position to you, and in return, they offered their unwavering loyalty. “Listen carefully,” you instructed them during a private meeting in your sitting room, the door locked behind you. “Go into the court, the markets, the salons- anywhere whispers thrive. I want names, places, and patterns. Who speaks these lies, and who listens too closely?”

They curtsied and departed without hesitation, melting into the bustling world outside of the manor. Meanwhile, you turned your attention to your maids and house staff. Servants were the lifeblood of any noble house, privy to secrets thought hidden.

You met with them personally with Kyle’s help, ensuring they understood the stakes. “Speak subtly,” you said, your voice calm but firm. “Let it slip that those who spread these rumors do so for their own gain, that there’s no substance to the rumors. Plant doubt. Create cracks.”

“As you wish, my lady.” Kyle nods his head, hands on your waist. He leans down, and kisses your forehead, and you smile all sweet and pretty at him. “Whatever you want.”

While you wove your network of spies, John watched quietly from the shadows of the manor. Though he trusted you implicitly, he couldn’t help but feel a mixture of awe and unease. He didn’t want to doubt you, but he worried nonetheless for you.

In his study, he sat with Kyle.

“How’s she faring?” John asked, puffing a cigar as he leaned back in his chair. Papers were scattered on his desk, though they didn’t require immediate attention or replies. Pressed close to Kyle, bodies warm, he didn’t want to go back to working for now.

Kyle hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “She’s… efficient, John. The staff is utterly devoted to her even without my help. I’ve seen no signs of hesitation in her plans.”

John chuckled dryly, though there was a flicker of appreciation in his eyes. “I am not surprised. She’s scarier than any battlefield, Kyle. And they love her.”

With the groundwork laid, you began preparing to host a big gala at the manor. Invitations were sent far and wide, carrying the promise of exquisite dining, captivating entertainment, and the opportunity to curry favor with one of the most powerful families in the region.

None dared refuse.

Johnny worked tirelessly to ensure every detail of the menu was flawless, and though he would have helped anyways, he still enjoyed all the kisses he got as reward from yoh. “You’re pilin’ it on thick, Duchess,” he remarked one evening, wiping his brow as he inspected a rack of lamb. “Even for you.”

“This isn’t just a party, Johnny,” you replied, humming. “This is war.”

“War it is, then. Anything for you, bonnie.” he muttered, diving back into his work with renewed determination. After a very heated look from you that had him preening, though; he looked handsome in his element. And you’ll make sure to really show him your appreciation for all his hard work later, in the privacy of your rooms.

At every other gala and gathering, you moved through the crowd like a dancer with a purpose. You guided conversations subtly, planting seeds of doubt and faltering those who tried to be a bit too brave- and your reputation as a “people’s princess” helped so greatly. Your allies- the few you trusted among the nobility-played their roles perfectly.

Simon, especially. You had specifically asked for his help, curled warm and cozy on his lap one night. He’d kissed you breathless and told you he would always be there for you.

“Lord Marcan, was it?” Simon mused during one party, his glass of whiskey balanced effortlessly in his hand. The others immediately listen to him; though he isn’t the most talkative noble, his words carry weight. “I’ve heard some interesting things about him. Did you know he’s deeply in debt? I wonder how far a man would go to escape ruin.”

The other nobles exchanged glances, uncertainty flickering across their faces. You watched from a distance, satisfied as Simon delivered the blow with effortless charm.

Your web was nearly complete, each thread pulling tighter around Lord Marcan- the instigator of the rumors- until he had no room to maneuver. At the final ball of the season, the one hosted by you and John, you made your final move.

You descended the grand staircase as the guests gathered, your presence commanding attention. At your signal, the servants unveiled a surprise: a performance of actors reenacting a scene from an old skirmish. But this was no ordinary play; it was a dramatized retelling of that battle, one that highlighted John’s bravery and leadership even when Lord Marcan had tried to say John had fled that day.

The crowd was entranced, all earlier doubts finally wavering and shattering. You saw Marcan shift uncomfortably, his face pale as his lies unraveled before him and eyes turned towards him in disgust.

From the balcony above, John watched with Simon and Kyle at his side. “She’s terrifying.” he murmured, though his voice carried a note of awe.

Simon smirked. “You married a bloody tactician.”

Kyle simply nodded. “She fights for you, for us, John. And she wins.”

By the end of the evening, Lord Marcan was a broken man and his wife, Lady Marcan who had laughed at you by the rumor, was seething. Their allies abandoned them, their name tarnished by his cowardice and deceit and her aftions.

And the rumors about John’s supposed abandonment of his men? Gone.

That night, as you removed your jewelry in the quiet of your chambers, John approached you. His hands rested on your bare shoulders, his touch warm and grounding.

“You’ve been busy, beloved.” he said, his voice soft but laced with admiration.

“I did what needed to be done.” you replied, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “I know you could have simply challenged him to a duel… but we didn’t have full confirmation it was him who started. I had to do it this way.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re terrifying, love. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

From the shadows of the room, Simon leaned casually against the doorframe. “She’s not wrong, John. Best keep on her good side.”

Johnny’s voice echoed from the hallway as he came by with a tray of food. Kyle comes as well, carrying glasses of wine. “Aye, and keep feeding her. Keeps her from plotting.”

Kyle sighs, though he has a smile on his face as he sets the glasses down and instead comes to help you. “…he isn’t exactly wrong. You were incredible…. And scary.”

“Perfect, in other words.” John hums, an eyebrow raising. You do not have enough time to ask anything before he and Kyle are gently turning you around on the seat, face to face with John who kneels down. “You’ve worked so hard for me, for us, my Duchess. Let me take care of you now, hm?”

“John…“

“No more words, my love,” he shakes his head, Kyle’s hands reaching to unlace your dress, your corset, until your breasts spill out. John doesn’t even seem mildly bothered by the layers of your skirt, flipping them up until you are indecent in front of your men and he is face to face with your panties. The way they look at you, so much want…

You don’t mind. The slick spot forming speaks more than enough anyways.

“Tonight,” John murmurs, kissing your inner thighs. “Will be all about spoiling you, wife.”