#it's that one. that one is likely to fuck me up long term

[buni-gutz]

the only thing i absolutely know is one memory from when i was three. how? because my father was involved in the memory and he left when i was three. and three is reasonably the most likely age for me to start forming long-term memories that i can actually remember. not just a vague experience or something.

anything else is guess work based on what i think i can pick out from the memory. i started self-harming in a music class that taught violin at a young age? i was 7. i had frequent headaches and had to ask my 5th grade teachers frequently to go to the nurse? i was 10. i remember having my cats before i got with my first bf? got them when i was 12.

but really, i cannot be absolutely sure about all this. honestly, my memories are so fuzzy and mixed up and distorted, that i cant be sure what parts are actually part of that memory. did that music class teach violin? maybe im remembering the wrong time and they started earlier? did my cats become before or after the boyfriend?

even now at 18, almost 19, everything is pretty blurry. the ones after 13 are somewhat okay, as that is when i split off from the previous host and all these memories are actually actually mine. but trauma still really fucked everything up.

my youth is too much of a blur for me to be able to meaningfully differentiate the ages i was, like 6 or 8 or 10 or 12 are all basically the same collection of fragments. i can only surmise the ages i was for my traumatic memories through logical deduction

[vaguely-concerned]

from what I infer from some of his dialogue, my guess is that while lucanis hasn't had a proper relationship before he has had one night stands and short term flings. and -- listen, I know he's a dick and a menace and probably a hopeless case but please do still spare illario dellamorte a moment of your thoughts and pity for the role of incredulous yet intrepid wing man that he's all but certainly had to play on several occasions for that to happen. there are 100% people out there who were trying SO fucking hard to get no strings attached laid by this stupidly hot emotionally unavailable mysterious stranger who won't be in town for long without lucanis ever realizing it. people who would have remained tragically unlaid if illario weren't there to clue him in.

I'm just imagining Illario staring in pure dismay and disbelief at his dumbass of a cousin failing to pick up what someone isn't just putting down but scattering all over the floor like glittery confetti burning with a magnesium flame brightness to spell out 'SIR PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE RAIL ME THIS IS AN OFFICIAL ENTHUSIASTIC INVITATION TO MY BED' and having to push him out the door after them like 'maker's breath sometimes i don't understand how you have the wits to grip the right end of a knife, lucanis, they were throwing themselves at you and you just stared at them in mild puzzlement until they gave up and went away go fucking GET THEM for the sake of my sanity if nothing else!!!'

[greengoblinswifey]

Steamy Nights—Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— you’re a sheltered college student who recently got your first job as a housekeeper at a fancy hotel. you stumble upon Nicholas Chavez while cleaning and he invites you to his hot tub in his room where one thing leads to another. based on this request.

warnings— age gap(reader is 19) praise kink, slight body worship, fingering, oral(f!receiving), daddy kink, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, creampie, aftercare.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

It had been a few weeks since you left your hometown and the ever-watchful eyes of your parents. You were finally in college, away from the suffocating grip of your sheltered upbringing. Now, you were free—free to explore, meet new people, and experience the world on your own terms. You'd always been the quiet, reserved type, but something inside you wanted to change that. You were ready to break out of your shell, to do what everyone else seemed to be doing, partying, flirting, and fucking.

You'd just landed your first job, working as a housekeeper at one of the fanciest hotels in the city. The kind of place where top CEOs, celebrities, and influencers stayed. The pay was decent, and it gave you the freedom you longed for, even though you were still adjusting to the hustle of your new life. You had a lot of cleaning to do, and the hours passed by quickly, but today was different. You were already thinking about the freedom you'd have once your shift was over, but you hadn't expected to find what you did next.

As you entered another room to clean, you realized there was no “Do Not Disturb” sign hanging from the door handle. You assumed it was just another room to tidy, so you entered without hesitation. The sight that greeted you, however, left you frozen.

The man standing before you was unreal. His body was sculpted like a Greek statue, muscles rippling under his damp skin, droplets of water glistening on his chest. His hair was still wet from the shower, and he was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. For a moment, you couldn't find your voice.

“Sorry! I—I’m so sorry,” you stammered, your face flushed. “There wasn't a sign on the door and I just thought—”

You tried to turn away quickly, but your gaze was fixed on him, unable to tear yourself away from his presence. Your heart raced, and you couldn’t help but be entranced by his sharp features, the way the towel clung to his waist.

He chuckled softly, his deep voice sending a wave of warmth through your body. “It's fine, princess. Why so nervous?” he asked, his smirk playful yet intense.

You swallowed hard, trying to collect yourself. “I, um, I’m sorry, really.”

He took a step closer, and your breath hitched as he looked you over with what felt like a mixture of curiosity and awe. “Don't worry about it,” he said. “I'm Nicholas by the way, Nicholas Chavez.”

You blinked, a realization dawning on you. Nicholas Chavez. The famous actor. You’d seen him on billboards, in tv shows, and even heard girls talk about him endlessly. He was everywhere. And now, here he was, standing before you in nothing but a towel.

“I, uh, I know who you are,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up even more.

He smiled, eyes softening as he looked at you. “Good. You have a name?”

“Yeah, it's Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said smoothly, his voice low. He took a small step toward you, and you felt your pulse quicken. “So, how old are you?” he asked casually, his gaze lingering on you.

“I’m nineteen,” you replied, feeling a little shy under his attention.

He chuckled, his gaze never leaving you. “Nineteen, huh? You're—full of surprises.”

You blinked, unsure what he meant by that, but his next words made your heart skip a beat.

“How about this,” he said with a sly grin. “When your shift is over, come find me. My private hot tub’s always open. I’ll be waiting.”

For a moment, you hesitated, your mind racing. You’d always been the shy, sheltered girl, but something about the way he spoke, the way he looked at you, it made you feel different. More alive. Maybe this was your chance to break free from your past, to do something bold.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come.”

His smile widened, and he gave you a wink before turning away, heading back to the bed. “The door’s always open for you,” he said over his shoulder as he flopped onto the bed, his gaze lingering on you. “Take your time.”

You felt a rush of excitement and nerves all at once. You finished your cleaning quickly, your thoughts buzzing with what was to come. You couldn’t stop thinking about him—about his body, his voice, the way he had looked at you. You felt like you were about to step into a new chapter of your life, one that you had been longing for.

The hours passed slowly, but finally, it was time. You’d made sure to pick out a sexy bathing suit, to wear underneath your clothes. As you approached his room, your heart raced with anticipation. You unlocked the door with your housekeeper’s key and pushed it open, your eyes immediately falling on him.

Nicholas was there, lounging on the bed in nothing but his trunks, his body looking just as perfect as before. He looked up and saw you standing there, and his eyes darkened, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“You came,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction.

You swallowed, nodding. “I— I came.”

As he sat up on the bed, your eyes couldn't help but trace the lines of his muscles, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. He was a vision of pure temptation, and for the first time in your life, you didn’t feel nervous. You felt almost empowered.

You stepped out of your clothes and into the soft light of his hotel suite, the anticipation buzzing in the air. You tugged at the straps of your bathing suit, a sudden surge of confidence rushing through you as you revealed the simple yet daring swimwear underneath. His eyes flickered, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched you, his gaze darkening with something deeper.

“Fuck,” he murmured, his voice low and appreciative. “You’re gorgeous. Look at you.”

Your heart raced at his words, the heat in your cheeks making you feel more alive than you ever. You gave him a shy smile, but he could see through it, he knew exactly how his words were making you feel. He moved toward you, his tall frame casting a shadow over you as his hands gently took you in his arms.

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice steady and warm. You squealed in surprise as he effortlessly swept you off your feet, carrying you toward the hot tub on the balcony. The steam rising from the water mingled with the cool night air, creating a perfect atmosphere that made your pulse race even faster.

He set you down gently, the water soothing against your skin as he stepped in after you, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something magnetic about him, something raw and unspoken. He was powerful, confident, and completely in control, yet there was a kindness in his gaze that made you feel like the only person in the world.

“So, tell me about yourself,” he asked, his voice smooth like velvet. His hand brushed against your back, sending a shiver down your spine as you felt the warmth of his touch.

You took a breath, trying to steady yourself. “Well, I’m new to all of this. I grew up a little sheltered, honestly. But I’m in college now, and I wanted to break out of my shell—experience things for myself.”

Nicholas’ eyes softened with understanding, and he gave you a small nod. “I like that,” he said, his voice deepening. “You’ve got spirit.”

You could feel your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little nervously. “I guess I’m just tired of playing it safe.”

He stepped closer, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in just enough to make you dizzy. “What if I told you that you don’t have to play it safe anymore?” His hand found your cheek, cupping it gently as he held your gaze. “What if I told you there’s so much more to explore, if you’re willing?”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you nodded, not trusting your voice for a moment. His words had unlocked something inside you, something that felt like a new beginning.

“What do you have in mind?” you asked, barely above a whisper. You could feel the tension between you two, the chemistry so thick you could almost taste it.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “A lot of things. Are you down for anything?”

You could feel your pulse spike, the weight of his question making your stomach flip with excitement. “Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely audible, but the conviction behind it was clear. You were ready. Ready to let go and experience everything that this night had to offer.

Nicholas didn’t need any more encouragement. Slowly, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow at first. But then the kiss deepened, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You responded eagerly, your body moving against his as you got lost in the moment. His mouth was hungry, but gentle, as if savoring every second.

He broke away for a moment, looking down at you with something unreadable in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel the heat of his gaze burning into you. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his fingers gently grazing your skin.

Nicholas was so close now, his body radiating warmth as his hands gently traced the contours of your body, making you feel things you’d never experienced before. His eyes never left yours, and you could feel the raw hunger in his gaze.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he murmured, his lips barely brushing your ear. “Everything about you is perfect.” His fingers slowly moved up, grazing your side, sending a rush of heat straight to your pussy. He paused, then gently tugged at the strings of your bikini top, his eyes darkening as the fabric loosened. “God,” he breathed, looking at you in awe as the top fell away, exposing your tits to him.

You couldn’t stop the flutter in your chest, the way your pulse quickened at his words. You’d never felt more exposed, yet somehow, with him, it felt right. “So juicy,” he whispered, his voice husky as he lowered his head. His lips brushed the soft curve of your breast, and you gasped softly, unable to stop the soft moans that escaped your lips. “Your moans are hot,” he said.

Your body reacted to every touch, every brush of his hands. His touch felt like fire on your skin, leaving you trembling. The sensation of his hands on your body was overwhelming, and when his fingers gently cupped your breast, you couldn’t help but let out another moan, louder this time.

“God, your boobs are amazing,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin as his lips found yours again in a hungry kiss. You kissed him back with the same fervor, your body pressing closer to his, feeling the heat of his chest against you. His body was solid, strong, and you could feel every inch of him as he held you close.

His hand moved slowly down your body, his fingers grazing the edge of your bikini bottom. He didn’t rush, he was savoring every moment, as if he knew this was all new to you. His hand lingered there, rubbing over pussy through the fabric, making you squirm slightly. The water splashed around you, but it only heightened the lust between you both.

You moaned softly as he rubbed your clothed pussy faster, sending waves of pleasure through you. Your chest rose and fell with each breath, and the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still on your body, his eyes full of desire. “You’re so fucking hot,” he said. There was no mistaking the way he felt—he wanted you, just as much as you wanted him.

With a gentle but insistent pull, he guided you closer, your bodies pressed together, the heat from the water mixing with the heat between you. His lips found yours once more, and as you kissed him back, you felt the world narrowing down to just the two of you, two bodies, two souls connecting in the steam and the quiet night.

What do you want, princess?” His voice was thick with desire, his lips lingering near your ear.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding as you thought about what you wanted. “I need to feel more. I need you to make me—make me cum.”

He chuckled softly, his breath warm on your neck. “Good girl,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to your bikini bottom. He was so careful, making sure you were comfortable with every movement. He kissed you again, and this time the kiss was deeper, more urgent, as though he couldn’t wait to explore more of you.

The water splashed lightly around you as you both moved, the sound of your breaths mingling with the soft hum of the jets. His hand moved lower, brushing gently against you. He pulled your strings, easily ripping off your bikini then slipped a finger inside your wetness. You couldn’t help but gasp, the sensation of his fingers inside you unfamiliar yet thrilling.

“I’m a virgin by the way, I should’ve mentioned that earlier.”

“Shit, are you okay, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, pulling away slightly to look at you. You nodded, your fingers curling into his chest as you pulled him closer.

“Yes, I’m fine,” you whispered, your body reacting instinctively to his finger curling inside you. He slipped another finger inside you, your nails digging into his huge biceps and he took the moment to rub your clit. Your moans and the sound of water splashing was all he could hear.

“Nick— I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice thick with approval. “Cum for me, baby.”

And for the first time in your life, you did. You squirted on his fingers, feeling the tension in your body release as you surrendered to the moment, to him.

“Fucking hell, you look so pretty when you cum, y’know that?” he murmured, brushing your hair from your face.

“Well, it’s the first time I’ve ever done anything like this so, no,” you laughed.

You suddenly realized you were butt ass naked in front of a man for the first time as his eyes raked over your body, drinking you in like you were a sculpture in a museum. Your hands went instinctively to your boobs, covering yourself as he stared too long.

“Oh baby, don’t hide yourself, you’re fucking beautiful,” he murmured, taking your hands and placing it on his bulge. You felt how hard he was, and how big.

Nicholas pulled down his swim trunks, and stepped out of the water in all his glory. The warm water cascaded over his body and all the way down to his cock that was standing at attention. The steam was a paid actor like himself—setting the mood and reflecting the heat between you. He took your hand and helped you out of the hot tub, both of you dripping with arousal and remnants of water.

As you stood there, his towel draped loosely around his waist, you couldn’t help but notice how impossibly broad and strong his frame was. The water glistened off his chest, highlighting his defined muscles, and you felt an involuntary shiver of anticipation.

He stepped closer, his fingers brushing against your skin as he took up a towel and dried you off. You swallowed hard, heart hammering in your chest as his hands lingered just a little longer than necessary, making it hard for you to breathe.

“Come on baby,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding as he led you back toward the bedroom, your pulse quickening with every step. The moment you entered, he closed the door behind you, the weight of his presence filling the room.

Before you could even process what was happening, he pushed you gently onto the bed, your body sinking into the softness of the mattress. The action was quick, but there was nothing hurried about the way he looked at you—there was a quiet intensity in his gaze, like he couldn’t wait to see where this would go.

He stood at the edge of the bed for a moment, watching you as you caught your breath, your body still damp from the hot tub. “You know,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, “you’re absolutely beautiful.” His words sent a wave of heat through you, making you flush as his gaze dropped to your body, his eyes darkening with desire.

You could barely find your voice. “Th-thank you,” you stammered, trying to steady yourself, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to focus. You weren’t sure if you were nervous or excited, maybe both.

Nicholas moved closer, leaning down until his face was just inches from your glistening pussy. “Can I taste you?” he asked softly, his lips hovering over you.

You nodded, barely able to speak, but your lips parted as he moved in. His mouth moved against your pussy slow at first, tentative almost, as if testing the waters. But as he began licking faster, his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You responded by pressing your pussy against him, the heat of his mouth making you dizzy with desire.

“You’re taste so fucking good,” he murmured against your clit, his voice a husky growl. You moaned softly in response, your body already reacting to his tongue all over you. It was the first time anyone had made you feel like this, so exposed and yet so wanted.

Your breath caught in your throat as you gathered the courage to speak. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you whispered.

He smiled, that wicked grin curling at the edges of his lips at the nickname you appointed to him. “Wow, we’ll address that after you cum on my tongue, so go ahead,” he murmured, his voice dripping with approval.

As if your body was waiting for the go ahead, you arched from the bed, your hands immediately gripping his hair as you ground your pussy all over his mouth. You moaned as you squirted and he took the opportunity to slurp every drop of what your pussy had to over.

“Mm— that’s my good girl, you taste like fucking Heaven, sweetheart,” he praised in between his licks.

He moved up to you, his lips glistening with your arousal and you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him and relishing in your savory taste. As you did, you could feel his hard cock pressing against you, his pre cum leaking and smearing on you. It felt so good, you wanted to suck his dick but you needed him to fuck you even more.

“So, daddy kink hmm? Just when I thought you couldn’t get any hotter,” Nicholas said, that gorgeous smirk on his face.

You buried your face in his neck, grinding your pussy against his shaft as you let out small whimpers in his ear. You needed that dick, bad.

“You’re so needy sweetheart, what is it, you want my cock?”

You let out a soft ‘mhmm’ still grinding against him as your body shuddered, if you weren’t careful, you knew you’d cum from just doing that.

“Words baby, I need words, do you want daddy to take your virginity?” he asked. When he saw you, he knew he wanted you for a fun night and more, he would’ve never thought a beautiful woman like you was still a virgin and would be up for a night with him. Let’s be real, if a guy like him asked you to come to his room after hours, he was looking to fuck and you, a virgin, knowingly came to his room. Though, he needed to know you were on board.

“Yes, please, I want you to take my virginity, please fuck me,” you whimpered.

He reached to pull out the nightstand drawer and you knew immediately what he was reaching for.

“N-no condom,” you muttered, grabbing his hand, “I’d like to feel all of you for my first time, i-if that’s okay.”

“‘Course baby, anything for you,” he smiled.

He moved back on top of you, stroking his length and spreading the pre cum all over. Looking at how big he was, you wondered how he would fit.

“You sure you want to do this sweetheart? You can still back out if you want to, the decision is all yours,” he said, concern etched on his face.

“I’m sure Nicholas,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down.

His leaking tip rubbed against your folds, the sound of your wetness filling the hotel room.

“I’m gonna go slow baby but it’s still going to be a bit uncomfortable at first, if it’s gets too painful, all you have to say is stop, yeah?”

You nodded your head and smiled, appreciative of his words, you wouldn’t want to be losing your virginity in any other scenario with anyone else but him.

Slowly, he began easing his cock into you, muttering praises and placing kisses all over your face. Your face contorted from the pain and pleasure and you tried your best to relax so he could move further.

“It’s okay baby, it’s okay, the worst part’s gonna be over soon,” he uttered, before placing a kiss on your lips.

He slowly pushed into you more, peppering kisses and cooing at you. You’d never felt to full, your fingers when you touched yourself didn’t compare to how big he was inside you. Your jaw fell agape as the slight pain finally subsided and you were overcome with pleasure.

“Daddy,” you moaned as he began to move at a steady pace, his cocky repeatedly brushing against your sweet spot.

“There she is, there’s daddy’s girl,” he cooed, placing another kiss on your lips.

His words made your pussy clench and a flutter grew in your heart, this man was doing things to you no man had ever done.

“Faster,” you urged, grinding against him.

He granted your wish, pounding into you faster and making your body jolt upwards. Your moans and the sound of skin slapping filled the room and soon, you felt your approaching orgasm.

“So fucking tight, just clenching around me like that, I know you wanna cum, cum on daddy’s cock baby.”

Your nails dug into his back leaving a trail of fire and he pounded into you just the way you liked it.

“Oh fuck— daddy,” you cried, grabbing him and pulling him flush against you. You shuddered as your orgasm ripped through you, your juices soaking the bed as he pulled out.

As he looked down, there was a bit of blood between your legs and on his cock. He quickly grabbed a towel and cleaned you up then himself, placing a kiss on your thigh.

You glimpsed the blood stained towel and buried your face in your hands.

“I— I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—”

He cut you off with a passionate kiss, cupping your cheeks.

“You don’t need to apologize, it’s natural and normal sweetheart.”

You gave him a small smile and he flipped you on top of him swiftly, making you squeal.

“I know it’s your first time but I need you to ride me baby, need to see those fucking tits bounce and have you on top of me.”

“Anything for you,” you smirked, though nervous.

You lined his awaiting cock with your dripping pussy, rubbing it against you and making it drip down his shaft.

“Fucking hell, you’re amazing,” he moaned, bucking his hips.

Slowly, you sank down onto him, both moaning in unison as your warmth and wetness engulfed each other. It was like fireworks exploded, this was everything you had dreamed of. It was a burning stretch but the pain soon turned into pleasure.

You bounced on his cock and he moved his hips to meet your thrusts.

“Oh God— daddy,” you moaned, feeling him hit a whole new spot inside you, you thought was impossible.

“Yeah? You like that? You like riding daddy’s cock? Fucking say it,” he panted.

“I— I love riding daddy’s cock, fuck me harder,” you moaned.

“Good fucking girl.”

He thrusted up into you, grabbing your boobs and playing with your nipples as he did. Your moans were like music to his ears and soon, he felt the familiar feeling of your pussy fluttering and clenching around him like you didn’t want to let him go.

“Squeezing me so fucking tight baby, cum for daddy, soak daddy’s cock.”

Falling on top of him, your body convulsed and your orgasm overtook you, soaking his length and the sheets below you once more. You knew the housekeepers would complain, they always did when the sheets were covered in bodily fluid, hell, you did too, oh the irony.

“Stay just like that baby, daddy’s gonna pump you full of cum,” he murmured.

Nicholas pinned your hands behind your back, the action unusual but making your head swoon.

“Oh, you like that don’t you?” he asked, fucking up into you hard.

“I love it daddy, faster,” you begged.

“As you wish.” His cock began slamming into you faster and soon, you felt the unmistakable feeling of something warm, filling you to the brim.

“That feels so good,” you moaned, grinding against him.

“I know baby, take daddy’s cum, take it in that tight fucking pussy.”

He slowly thrusted into you before he pulled out, the feeling leaving you empty yet fulfilled.

You laid there, tangled in each other, feeling the rise and fall of each other’s chests.

“Did you enjoy yourself beautiful?,” he asked, as you leaned up to look at him.

“More than I could ever imagine.”

He smiled and gave you a kiss on the lips before making his way to the bathroom and coming back with a warm cloth. He cleaned you up, littering kisses as he did.

“You’re so beautiful, I’m so lucky,” he muttered. His words made your heart flutter, would this be a regular occurrence?

“I think I’m lucky too,” you laughed, “a famous actor just took my virginity.”

“And I’d like to take it all over again in the morning, will you stay the night?” he inquired, tossing the cloth on the couch.

“I don’t think I can, I already broke a rule sleeping with a guest but literally sleeping over in a guest’s room? I’d get fired and it’s my first job I—“

He cut you off with a finger over your lips. “Shh, forget who I am? I’ll pull some strings, and even if you do get fired, I’ll easily take care of you.”

You buried your face in his firm chest and he fell onto the bed beside you. The romantic night went on with you tangled in each other’s arms and Nicholas littering kisses all over your face. Who knew being a housekeeper would score you such a big tip.

[onlyangel4]

onlyangel4 1k event - P4. YT22. SMAU.

trope: secret long term relationship

pairing: yuki tsunoda x fiancé!reader

faceclaim: kiko mizuhara

1k event

y/nprivinsta

liked by y/bff, yukitsunoda, alexandrasaintmleux and 102 others

tagged: yukitsunoda

y/nprivinsta: this year was my third summer break as a wag and i have to say it was the best one yet

view all 41 comments

yukitsunoda: i fucked it for myself i'll never top this

y/nprivinsta: gonna have to think outside of the box baby

y/bff: i haven't stopped crying since you facetimed me

y/nprivinsta: i love you so much

alexandrasaintmleux: we need to go out and celebrate

iamrebeccad: i'm coming

flavy.barla: and me

francisca.cgomes: me too

pierregasly: so happy for you both

y/nprivinsta: thank you pierre!

landonorris: omg the shortest couple in f1 are getting married

y/nprivinsta: you really have the attitude of a six foot man

alexandrasaintmleux

liked by flavy.barla, iamrebeccad, charlesleclerc and 1,202,009 others

tagged: flavy.barla. iamrebeccad. francisca.cgomes. lilymhe.

alexandrasaintmleux: ladies night

view all 32,101 comments

flavy.barla: the best night ever

alexandrasaintmleux: even if we did lose y/n for a hot minute

user1: who tf is y/n

iamrebeccad: love you all

lilymhe: the best night out in a long time

user2: so we know they are all wags but who is that other girl

user3: the logical side of my brain says just a friend but the delulu side of my brain makes me think maybe we have a new wag

user4: i need to know who that other girl is

y/nprivinsta posted a story

written: watching the whole f1 community blow up trying to find out who i am has me giggling

yukitsunoda: they are guessing that you are a wag for literally anyone but me

y/nprivinsta: yeah i read an article that i'm lando's secret girlfriend

f1updates

liked by user6, user7, user8 and 45,283 others

f1updates: so lando was just questioned about the girl, y/n in alex's new instagram post and his reaction is the funniest thing ever

interviewer: "so is it true that you have a new girl in your life"

lando (confused as ever): "what? wait you mean y/n"

*he started hysterically laughing*

lando: "no me and y/n are not together, jesus christ you guys need to stop believing everything that you see on twitter, you are going to get me killed"

view all 4,211 comments

user6: that response makes me think she is deffo a wag

user7: but who is she dating lando

user8: y'all need to stop being so fucking nosey

y/nprivinsta posted a story tagging yukitsunoda

written: last dinner with my fiancée, here's to many more with my husband

alexandrasaintmleux posted a story

written: the last time i posted this girl f1 twitter almost went up in flames

f1updates posted a story

written: guys an interviewer just asked yuki if he did anything exciting with his summer break. his response was "well i got married" AND THEN HE JUST WALKED OFF

yukitsunoda

liked by y/nprivinsta, pierregasly, alexandrasaintmleux and 1,002,932 others

tagged: y/nprivinsta

yukitsunoda: introducing y/n tsunoda, the love of my life

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y/nprivinsta: i love you more than anything

yukitsunoda: more than sakura

y/nprivinsta: know your place that cat is my child

pierregasly: the best wedding ever

yukitsunoda: do you even remember it, you were so drunk

landonorris: i still can't believe people were shipping me with your wife

yukitsunoda: count your days norris

user9: holy shit yuki married a BADDIE

user10: omg they have a cat that is so cute

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[kanyerealdaughter]

#EX BOYFRIEND

sexual content , masturbation (f,reader) , cussing , intercourse , creampie , *cum tasting a bit*

———��—————————————

right now you’re currently driving to your ex boyfriend suguru house. you have no clue how to handle it to be completely honest, you never been too good with emotions but you both left on good terms and everything but you just can't stop the need you feel him one last time.

you pulled into his driveway preparing yourself to get all your stuff and leave as quickly as possible. you walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. after a few minutes he appears in the doorway, looking' sexier than ever. you were snapped out of the battle with your subconscious by his voices speaking out in a concerned tone.

" uh- you good..?"

" mhm, uh y-yeah, fine i just came to get my stuff remember." you replied weakly.

" well you're gonna come in?" he asked in his raspy voice, steppin' out of the way, letting me into his house.

you look over at the kitchen and remember all the times he fucked your from behind. so deep in you, so... rough. and the living room where he'd prop your legs up on the coffee table and eat you out. suckin on your clit…

your breathing picked up and you don't know what to do. your underwear is getting wetter by the second and you can't do anything about it... or can you? once the idea pops into your head, there's no turning back. you have to do it. you need to do it.

" um suguru can i use your bathroom?" you ask , pretending that you have to use the bathroom badly.

“ oh uh- sure. you remember where it's at right?" you nodded and headed off to the bathroom.

once you’re outta sight, you rush in, shutting and locking the door behind you. you don’t waste any time taking your jeans and underwear off. mmm you’re so wet… you don't even bother taking your shirt and bra off, you wanna make this quick.

you slowly insert your middle finger and it slides in with ease from all the wetness. you start to pump and move your hand. in and out. in and out. in...out. over and over. fuck it. you need this. you pick up speed, lifting your left leg up onto the sink for better access.

" mmm." you moan softly before putting your free fingers into your mouth to shut yourself up.

you can't be loud but it feels so good. you bite your knuckle harder in an attempt to hush yourself but it's useless. you move your hand quicker. the lightning fast speed of your fingers is amazing. you started to think of suguru. his big dick thrusting into you with quick speed. both of your skin hitting together because of his fast, hard pace.

" fuck." you muffled into your knuckles. his balls slapping against your ass cheeks. both of your moans and grunts are drowning out the others. you’re whimpering. you want to scream but you can't. you want him to fuck you so bad. you imagine him talking dirty to you even more.

" fuck, you like that i know you like it.

“ scream for me ma.." that was all it took to drive you over the edge.

" fuck yes..!"

you came all over your hand, hard. as much as you wish it were him you were cummin' for, you guess this will have to do. you clean yourself off realizing you’ve probably been in here for too long. you washed all your wetness and juices away from your hands, dried them and then went to leave.

as you opened the door, you found a very satisfied ex boyfriend suguru getting off right in front of the door. either he didn't care if you saw or he hadn't heard you come out.

whatever the case may be, you didn't care. you suddenly felt hot again. you once more felt the urge to have him inside of you again. watching him get off because of your moans from the other side of the door really turned you on. you need to feel him in you, at least one more time.

as you watched him, you could feel your juices pooling up as they did before. bitting your lip, you reach out and touch his dick. he looks up at you and you could see his once big dark purple eyes. eyes darken.

he stops and in a blink of an eye, you're pinned up against the bathroom door. with a strong large hand over your neck, his lips dive towards yours, connecting in a passionate yet lustful kiss. it was harsh and forceful, making your knees go weak. if he wasn't holding you up you would have fallen.

your hand instinctively wrapped around his hard cock, pumping in an attempt to please him. a quiet moan could be heard escaping his lips, that were molded together with yours, sending a long satisfying shiver down your spine. i need him in you now.

" i need you." you said in between kisses.

" i'm glad you said that ma i need you too my dick hard.." he said as a smile crept up on his face.

and with that he pulled his pants up and picked you up, carrying you to his room. when we reached your destination, he threw you on his bed and began stripping.

starting with his shirt, then his pants, then his boxers. you both kept eye contact as you began to get undressed with him taking off your shirt along with your push up bra.

when you both were done, he crawled up between your legs pushing you up on the bed. he once again connected your lips as he moved one of his hands to your breast. he squeezed and rolled my hard nipple earning soft moans from you.

you started to whine, letting him know that you can't wait any longer. a smirk draws across his face while he moves his hand down to my heat, collecting some of your juices on his finger, he stops kissing you and puts it in his mouth. he moaned lightly at the taste of you causing your hips to buck up at the sight.

he looked down and grabbed his dick and started rubbing it against your slit. pushing it a little to your clit, your legs shook. you’re so wet that he accidentally slid in hard, slamming into you, causing him to groan at the pleasure.

" you're still so tight fuck ma." he said in a low whisper. you moaned in response his pace started off slow but then soon quickened as his heavy breaths you felt in the crook of your neck. his thrusting grew harder. the bed creaked and rocked with his and yours movements.

" u-uh yess!." you moaned. it feels so good his grunts fill the room along with your moans.

" fuck ma you been givin my pussy..?" he whispered groaning at the end of his sentence.

you shake your no.

" words mama." he groaned.

" no o-ohh fuck." you gained the confidence too say no. he smack ass leaving a handprint thrusting into you kissing your cervix fasting into you even more making you moan.

" tell me, who does this pussy belong to?" he said while lifting my legs up by his shoulders, fucking me deeper.

(yesss kinggg lmfaooo ignore this.)

“ y-you." you barely got out in between your panting and loud moans.

" louder." he demanded.

" y-you suguru you suguru FUCKK.! u-uhh so deep..!" you ended up screaming, causing him to smirk.

" mhm." was all he said.

" fuck. f-faster." you said wanting more. his pace quickened from what it was before as all you could hear was his and yours skin slapping together.

" n-nugh!" you screamed. he was so deep and big he filled you up kissing your cervix once again

" s-shit..!" your back arched as your felt your orgasm forming.

" i-im gonna c-cum!" he stopped causing you to whimper.

" no.. fuck why suguru..?" you whined. he didn't answer but instead flipped you over to where your ass was up in the air and your back was arched. face in the comforter.

suddenly there was a sting on your ass cheek. smack. the skin on skin contact of his hand colliding with your plump ass made you moan.

" you like that." he said with a smile forming on his face.

smack another hard slap echoing throughout the room, the sound bouncing off the walls. you moaned again, this time a little louder. without warning he slammed his dick back into your soaking wet pussy making you scream at the sudden pressure.

his thrusting was quick and hard just like before. your pussy throbbed. your ass slapped against his front, reddening your cheeks smack.

" ooh fuck!"

it feels too good smack. he continued his thrusting that soon became irregular and uneven, getting even more sloppy. he was close and so was you.

" cum for me ma. cum all over my dick mamas ." you couldn't hold on anymore. your orgasm ripped through you like a tidal wave, but he didn't stop.

" ahh! f-fuck! fuck suguruuu!" his dick twitched inside you.

" mmm." he hummed.

“ scream my name again.” he said, his breath being just as scattered as his thrusts.

" suguru!" you screamed moaning right after.

" f-fuck ma..!" he stopped deep in you, filling you up with his hot spurts of cum. you shook and screamed into the comforter. you both stayed in that position catching your breaths for a few minutes and then he pulled out.

he cleaned up and then you both laid in his bed talking for about an hour until you finally decided to get dressed and head home. he stopped you right outside his front door by grabbing' your waist and pulling you into a kiss slapping your sensitive ass making you yelled out a yelp. he broke it off and tilted your head up to look at him looking him in his dark purple eyes.

" come back anytime you'd like and we can do this again ma." he winked at you but being all serious and then disappeared back into his house.

the drive home was silent. you didn't listen to any music, you just sat there thinking...

𖣂 KANYEREALDAUGHTER SPEAKS - old wattpad story.. since i couldn’t think of nothing.

words - 1.8k

» , ᴀ ᴋᴀɴʏᴇʀᴇᴀʟᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ

copyright ©️. ᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ . «

[moodymisty]

Author's note: What are you gonna do? Kinkshame me?

Relationship: Mortarion/Fem!Reader (to call it a relationship is kind of a stretch you only have his last name cause the vet paperwork requires it)

Warnings: NSFW, Nonnegotiable pet play (hampter), Degradation, Dehumanization, Kidnapping(?) Stockholm syndrome, Brief mention of reader having enough hair to put into a hair tie, Collar and leash, I dunno this is weird, This is totally unrelated to the Morty and his hot wife fic as much as his (future)wife would be down for being his pet, Inspired by @lemon-russ and her Mortarion pet fic series <3 and by inspired I mean like half of this fic is the exact fucking same cause i had trouble with the last half

The festering, bloated form of the Imperium was good for something, Mortarion thought.

Logistical tasks were nightmarish beyond all belief, shipments of requisitioned goods sent from place to place in the thousands if not millions. Many shipments disappeared outright; A planet now without food, a desperate front line without weapons. Efforts doomed purely on logistical error due to the sheer amount of traffic having to be handled.

It made slipping things between the cracks quite easy, however.

The box in Mortarion's hands is small by his standards, but for a human it would be quite sizable. They had offered to bring it to his quarters but he instantly refused, and Garro reiterated to the serfs that no one- including his own men- were to be near let alone in his quarters.

Not anymore.

When he enters the privacy of his chambers his shoulders relax slightly, and he hears the soft jingle of thin metal. It's quiet now- it used to be far louder but now that your cage is a bright display of plush blankets and toys, only weight on the exterior of the cage, and the metal of your collar, create any noise.

He smiles at the wide, excited look in your eyes, your fingers wrapped around the thin bars as you rise to your knees. The little dress you wear is still clean but a decent bit wrinkled, an array of lace and frills.

He'll have to change it; Along with a myriad of other chores he'll need to go after leaving you alone for so long.

"How are you, my little pet?"

You perk up and eagerly watch as he comes to let you out, but not too eagerly.

He doesn't like when you yelp and rattle the bars. He always wants you to be quiet above all else, especially during living hours.

"I have some new things for you, excited? Sit, and I'll show them to you."

You obediently listen legs curled to one side and nod, watching as he lowers himself to the floor on one knee. He grimaces and his bones crack and pop, but he manages. You look at him a bit worried, but you know he'll be fine.

You always love when he gets new things for you; New blankets, new pillows, new toys. Whenever things break he's always quick to get you new ones. It's so exciting to see what wonderful and colorful things he gets you from all of the places he's been, stuffing your life so full of plushness, soft fabrics and pastels.

The corner of his bedchambers your cage is in far more filled that it was when you'd first arrived, stuffed with spare things and little lights. If you were to just look at him, it would be almost funny; How lively and cute your home is in comparison to himself. His desk directly adjacent to you is solid wood, covered in burns, stains, and various bottles and jars.

In the moment it's nice, the free food, the blankets, the security; But when you think about it, its...

It's humiliating.

Degrading.

You feel less than human, though you suppose that's his intent; If anyone you knew ever saw you like this crawling around on all fours like a-

If any were alive.

Your planet was vicious, unforgiving. How you'd survived as long as you had was a miracle. To live there was to scavenge and fight for day to day survival, no thinking of the long term. You don't know if anyone you knew has even survived in few months you've been gone.

Has it been months?

Here, you're showered in plush toys and blankets, bowls and bowls of food. By a primarch no less. You were plucked from the sky by a being that from the sparse teachings of your forgotten planet was a man of incomprehensible power, a military of thousands at his disposal.

You even have a heating pad; Mortarion keeps the switch within your grasp after you wouldn't stop whining for him to turn it on.

For all intents and purposes, you're pampered. You are his pet, but you're safe, well taken care of, and loved.

It could be worse.

...could it?

You are still fully cognizant of that past life, before him. But why would you yearn for it's return- to a nightmare of struggle and fighting- when here, you're pampered and pet and fed until you're plump? You don't have to worry about anything. Your primarch does it all for you. Here you can sleep in a warm bed, eat your food and wait until master he returns and you can get some time out to stretch and play.

If you're very good, and he doesn't have any duties that take away his time, he'll let you sleep on his bed with him- not complaining when you crawl up to lay your head on his thigh.

He's been busy for a few days now, multiple nights you haven't seen him leaving you alone in the dark. It gets lonely, but you're patient- napping in your bed or playing with the myriad of toys he's given you. They keep you busy, but your little mind always wanders back to worrying if he's left you forever.

Reaching for the latch of your cage he undoes it and chuckles as you eagerly crawl to the entrance, almost visibly vibrating from excitement.

It's been days, and now he's going to let you out! You struggle to contain the excitement.

He opens the box and briefly shows you a peek of the things he's gotten you, before he gets distracted by something else.

"Your hair is such a mess. Come out."

He doesn't put a leash on you, letting you come out and stretch your legs a bit before getting back down. He sits at his desk, and motions for you to come by hitting his thigh.

When you do so, he begins to undo the tie in your hair and try to redo it. You wince a bit and move, earning a grunt of displeasure from him that turns into a mild coughing fit. Once he's finished coughing and clears his throat, he speaks at you.

"Stop wiggling."

You try to hold perfectly still as he fixes your hair, styling it the way he likes it. Sleeping in your bed for the past few days has made it messy, and you didn't have the tools to fix it yourself. Master does it for you anyways. He does it the way it should be, same with your clothes.

When he's almost done, he gestures for you to turn around so he can judge his own handiwork.

Something on his desk however begins making noise, and he looks in it's direction with no small amount of disdain. When he looks back at you, he grips your jaw and mushes your cheeks upward. It doesn't hurt, but it is a bit uncomfortable.

"Be quiet."

You nod- at least as best as you can.

He lets go of you and reaches to touch the device, and a voice starts talking.

"My primarch, Lord Fulgrim is attempting to vox you."

He lets out a loud sigh, clearing his throat once again. The dry scratchiness of it is palpable.

"Is it important?"

The man on the other side makes a contemplative noise, while Mortarion's rough skin brushes against the little hairs just in front of your ear. You tilt your head in the hopes he'll keep doing it.

"Lord Fulgrim did not specify when asked."

Mortarion pets you just a bit harder.

"...Let him through."

There's silence for a moment, before the voice acknowledges Mortarion and cuts away. A different voice fills the air a few moments later.

"Leaving Terra so soon Mortarion?"

The voice is smooth, melodic, and amused at Mortarion's expense. You continue to kneel silently between his legs. You lean against his calf a bit, lazily looking up at him. He looks down at you as he talks.

"I have many things that require my attention far more than your stupid parties, Fulgrim."

The voice on the other side chuckles, smooth and music-like.

"Fair enough. Guilliman and Lion were the same." He huffs before speaking again. "You think any of them would even miss my presence?

You perk up, but remain totally silent.

You missed him!

You missed every moment he was gone. Your cheek pushes against his leg harder in an attempt to show your thoughts without words, wrapping your arms around his calf, and he rewards you with a brush along your cheek. You smile happily.

"Probably not, though I could say that about more of the primarchs than just you." The voice quiets for a moment before speaking again. "Safe travels, Mortarion."

The voice is gone now and Mortarion returns his full focus to you, so you assume it's safe to make noise; Though you don't just in case.

"Good girl. You behaved." He looks at you. "Want a treat?"

A treat? Everything he gives you is so yummy, you nod and eagerly await whatever he's giving you. He gets up for a moment to retrieve it, before handing it to you.

You've tried taking food from his hands before, but he prefers if you just eat it from his fingers.

You take the treat, the yummy flavor hitting your tongue the moment your lips pull away from his fingers. There's a small something a bit hard in the middle, but you just chew through it. It doesn't effect the flavor in any noticeable way.

While you do, he latches your leash on the d-ring of your collar. You don't complain, just watching curiously as you chew your treat. He stands a few moments later, the leash wrapped around his hand.

"Come here."

You move to where he's going before the leash has a chance to snap taut, crawling onto his bed and onto his lap when he ushers you there.

"Did you miss me? It's been a few days."

You eagerly nod, hands gripping the fabric of his tunic. His lap is too big for you to straddle outright, so you straddle one of his thighs instead. When he raises that thigh, you instantly whimper at the feeling of pressure on your core. He sighs.

"Only a few days and you're already pent up again."

He sounds almost irritated, but he's quick to push around the fabric of your little dress to press his fingers against your cunt.

He toys and fiddles with your folds until they're nice and slick, whimpering in his grasp and trying to grind harder on his hand. Once he's done playing with you, he undoes the ties of his trousers to pull out his cock. It's half hard,

He leans back, pushing you until you almost straddle his hips and his cock lays rising between your thighs.

"Go on, pet."

You're so beyond pent up, even the toys he gives you weren't enough in the days he was busy. So it isn't long of grinding your sloppy cunt along his shaft before you're desperately trying to shove it inside of you, your master watching keenly as you move about awkwardly.

After only a minute or so of sliding up and down his cock do you feel a shudder run through you as a small orgasm rides up your spine, whining and biting your lip. Just the act of slipping him inside of you and feeling the stretch was so much, sinking into your tight heat. Your hands grip the material of his clothes tightly as he coughs, trying to hold them in enough to not be too loud for you.

"Poor pet, do you need more things to keep you busy while I'm gone?"

He mumbles something under his breath, something about an implant, but you're too busy trying to fuck yourself on him to really understand what he's mumbling about through the wet, sloppy noises.

It probably isn't stuff you should care about anyways. He handles all the complicated stuff, you just enjoy the things he gives you.

He tugs on the leash once, and you feel the fabric dig into the nape of your neck as you're pulled forward. You're beginning to tire, hips aching and sore. You slow down and grind down on him, groaning between your breaths.

"Do I spoil you too much? Are you getting lazy?"

No! You aren't lazy, just tired. Your mouth hangs slightly agape open mouth breathing, as he watches you.

"Keep going, pet."

You try and gather enough strength to continue, feeling his cock shift inside of you. His groans are louder and he accidentally begins pulling on your leash as he tries to steady himself with his arms, pulling you a bit forward as he finishes inside of you. The warmth and the feeling of his hips bucking up into you and jostling you around is what pulls another orgasm from you, whining over the sound of his groans.

After a few moments he slowly pulls from you, and you clench around nothing at the hollow ache, and feel some of his cum slip from you and dribble onto his cock.

He's quiet for a moment, before he sighs. You perk up expectantly waiting for what he has to say.

"You can sleep out tonight."

Your excitement is explosive, stretching your back with a squeak he finds endearingly cute. He needs to clean your cage he says, after a few days of not letting you out, the blankets are wrinkled and food crumbs are dusted around. Some of your toys need to be refilled with whatever treat was inside of them or some of another variety cleaned entirely, a thought that fills you with joy.

He lays a blanket on the foot of his bed, one of yours, and you move to sit on it and watch as he goes to change his clothes for sleep. When he returns and climbs into his bed, you watch eagerly before crawling closer.

You curl up next to his left thigh, laying your cheek against it. You look up at him and see the hollowness of his features.

He's so ghostly, yet he treats you so well. You've tasted and seen things you never knew existed.

Life...

It could be worse.

You could be scavenging for scraps- now you're curled up on your master's bed.

He reaches down and brushes his hand across the top of your head a few times, petting you. You push into his hand in a way that makes him chuckle.

"Good girl."

[beef-brisket]

Adam looked around while Lucifer bounced Avery on his knee.

Adam: So. Redemption, huh? It's uh... interesting idea.

Charlie beamed: Really!? I mean- yes. Very interesting. There's a lot of planning that has gone into everything.

Adam glances over to the bar: Yeeah, I can tell.

He wanted to tell the princess that she's wasting her time, but he really didn't feel like getting into an argument.

The fuck is happening to him? He loves starting fights.

Fuck it.

Adam: You know it's bullshit, right?

Charlie: B-Bullshit?

Lucifer glances over to them.

Lucifer: You should hear her out, Adam. She's done a lot of work.

Adam: Oh sure. This place is huge and everything but how many guests do you have?

Charlie gulped: Two-. But that's okay! Their doing great! They have weekly sessions-.

Adam: That's cute. How many have you redeemed?

Everyone was silent, even Avery.

Adam: ...You don't know oooor none?

Charlie looks away: none.

Adam: Hm. Interesting but not impressive.

Vaggie: Look, fucker. She's worked hard on this place and these sinners that are here! You can just shit on her idea!

Adam: Oh, consider ot well shited on, Vagina~.

Charlie glanced at Vaggie, did Adam know her?

Adam: It's just- I mean fuck. Look at it! Do you really think Heaven is going to let in sinners just because they know how to not be a piece of shit 24/7?

Vaggie glared: They let you in.

Adam smiled: Yeah, they did.

Vaggie storms up to him: Listen here, first prick. You can't just come in here like you fucking own the place and tell the PRINCESS of Hell that her dream isn't going to work!

Adam smiled wider as Vaggie went off on him. Fuck he missed this.

Adam: Oh, I can't? Well, I am technically a representative of Heaven, I've been there for nearly 10,000 years, bitch. It's my fucking job to protect every soul up there from the scum down here. So, why would I just bend over and let your little princess ass fuck me into letting sinners upstairs, huh?

Vaggies eye twitched: thatsnotwhatshesdoing.

Adam: Isn't it? Yo, Chandler, do you know what you need to do to pass divine judgment?

Charlie: Uh- I-It's Charlie- hi! Actually... I do!

Adam: Really? Well, you'd be athe only one, toots~. So, wanna enlighten us?

Charlie: ...Wait- no one knows?

Adam smiled: One person knows!

Charlie: Oh- who?

Adam: You. You just said you knew. Unless you were lying-.

Adam gasps: Which is a big no-no! So. Either you know what a soul needs to pass divine judgment oooor you don't. Which is it?

Charlie: ...I don't know.

Adam: There we go.

Charlie: Look- everyone deserves a second chance, right? If this is a long-term solution for stopping the exterminations, then shouldn't we all be doing our part?

Adam: Ha! Fuck no!

Avery: no!

Adam: That's my girl~. How about this, if you can answer this question for me, I'll support your hotel.

Charlie beams again: Okay! What is it?

Adam: What sinners don't qualify for your hotel?

Charlie: ...They all qualify- everyone deserves a second chance.

Adam: Oh yeah? Do you know what some of these assholes down here have done? Do serial killers deserve to go to Heaven? Do their victims deserve to live out their afterlife in fear because the cunt that fucking butchered them are now in Heaven?

Charlie: I... e-everyone deserves a second-.

Adam: Want to say something else? Something that's meaningful? Not everyone deserves a second chance, Channing. Some deserve to rot down here, and if I'm lucky, I get to shove my axe into their chest once a year. So, I'll give you one last chance. What sinners don't qualify for your hotel?

What about an au where Adam goes to Hell for night trips, wher ehe just parties and fucks. He has a disguise (it's just a slightly different looking helmet).

Lucifer joins his daughter and her friends at a bar, where he sees "Adam". He instantly knows it's him, but he's curious as to what he's doing.

So Lucifer spends hours flitting with him and buying him drinks to get him drunk. But Lucifer actually finds himself having a great time.

Long story short- they fuck, Adam doesn't let Lucifer know he's Adam. He goes back to Heaven and after a few months, he finds out he's pregnant.

Which is fucking weird cause he's definitely a dude, and he's very dead. But Lucifer's the Devil 🤷.

He basically has to play it off as him getting fat. It's working until the next meeting with Lucifer happens during his ninth month, and he's goes into labor right in front of Lucifer.

Lucifer: Why didn't you tell me your were fucking pregnant!?

Adam: Because you didn't know it was me!!

Lucifer: Yes I did! You have the same face!

Adam: ..... Oh..

[hikaruchen]

Reading this blog and procrastinating what I should’ve been doing at the moment, but it’s super helpful if you want to know more about the Anglo-Saxon and Viking material culture but don’t want to be bored to hell. All articles are done by an archaeologist specializing in mortuary archaeology, and he has already written several ones about burials and pagan practices during that time through the lens of The Last Kingdom. I’ve linked one of his posts before on ao3 when discussing about the historical accuracy of Alfred’s tomb effigy in the show under the pic Prayer from the Pagan, but didn’t really had the time to check others out. I just did it and find his other articles are actually super interesting to read as well.

For instance, back when I post this pic in January I said the colour palette was inspired by the Alfred jewel, but I completely forgot that it actually appeared in the show (2x04) where Alfred handed it to Æthelwold and said “Take this. It is a symbol of my kingship. Bear it with authority.”, which might be partially true but is hilarious if you give it another thought.

Because, why, in God’s name, would Alfred hand an ARTEFACT version of the piece he commissioned himself to his nephew? As Prof. Williams already stated (in this post), the Alfred jewel has long been assumed to be the handle part of a pointer stick for following words when reading a book, and if you look at the artefact itself it is quite clear that there’s a part that’s been missing as well. The reason why scholars think it has something to do with Alfred is because:

1) It’s written. The text on the frame literally says that “ÆLFRED MEC HEHT GEWYRCAN”, which means “Alfred ordered me made”. The more detailed explanation below (with the help of beloved wikitionary since I don’t understand Old English at all)

ÆLFRED (subject) Alfred, obviously MEC (object) me; accusative of iċ (I), but in the West Saxon dialect it’s actually an uncommon version of iċ’s accusative and is more often seen in the Anglian dialect. The frequently-used version for West Saxons is mē HEHT (verb) ordered; third-singular past tense for hātan (to call; to order etc.), often followed with infinitive verbs, cognate with heißen in German GEWYRCAN (verb) to make; I honestly don’t know if “to make” and “to be made” is just the same word in OE help And since the word order in OE is random as hell thanks to the case system (much like German which I eventually gave up learning because I don’t have a brain big enough for that. IT MAKES NO SENSE TO A NATIVE MANDARIN SPEAKER THANK YOU), it is eventually translated into “Alfred ordered me to be made”.

2) It was discovered in Somerset and has been dated to the late 9th century, and we all know what Somerset meant to Alfred

3) Alfred did say he would send a copy of his translation of Gregory the Great’s Pastoral Care to every episcopal see in his kingdom in the preface to it, with the book accompanied “an æstel of 50 mancuses”. Mancus was a term to denote a gold coin or a unit for coins worth about a month’s wage for a skilled worker, such as a craftsman or a soldier. Whatever that æstel is it must be worth hell LOTS of money

But honestly while I do think this interpretation sounds very much plausible I’m thinking about other possibilities as well - how many Alfreds exactly existed during his time? We know that Æthel in OE means noble, so people bearing this prefix in their names were usually royal members or at least aristocrats, but what about Alfred? Was Alfred a popular name? Or was it unique enough that he could just go by this name without mentioning his title at all? Imagine if it were an Æthelred who made this, who the hell would know which one of these it was referring to, Æthelred the King, Æthelred the Ealdorman, Æthelred Ealhswith’s father, or even Æthelred the fucking Archbishop??? And yeah, I know Alfred was the king ™ here and there isn’t really much space left on the frame after all, but surely it wouldn’t cost a bone to add a cyning behind his name, right?

Sadly, as it was in the pre-Domesday-Book era, I can’t find the statistics of Anglo-Saxon names at that time (but keep in mind that there were at least 19 Alfreds worthy enough to be mentioned in Domesday Book even after the conquest. I don’t know if this says anything at all but I do want to mention it) What I’m trying to say is while it is highly highly highly likely (and I do believe and want to believe in this theory!), we cannot be one hundred percent certain that this jewel was really from the Alfred we’re talking about. And even if it was, it apparently wouldn’t be carried around by Alfred like THAT. Because that would be like, “Bear this with authority! Even though the symbol of my kingship is broken!”, said Alfred to a king wannabe. Lol.

The other thing I want to mention is this post about the show’s use of Fuller brooch, the one Alfred wore in S2 when he was in his war gear.

First of all, it is indeed dated to late 9th century and is assumed by scholars to be made by metalworkers of Alfred’s court. Everything is fine except I don’t think you would want to wear jewelry that luxurious to war…but then there’s this thing:

MEET GIANT FULLERS!

Well, can’t blame them since I am basically doing the same thing with my drawings (i.e. using patterns on jewelry and illustrations from manuscripts for embroidery design). But it’s worth noting that designs that are suitable for one art form doesn’t mean they can be applied to another well, and that’s why I claim my art is inspired by Anglo-Saxon art but NOT historical accurate for the Anglo-Saxon period. The reason I still do this and think it is understandable for TLK crew to do so is because we simply don’t have that many resources to reference from when it comes to this time period, and fabrics and wooden buildings are just extremely hard to preserve by nature. Instead of screwing up the design on your own, it just has more fun to add real historical elements into your work. Look at those easter eggs!

Ok, that’s it. I hope you enjoy my long rant and have a good read from Prof. Williams’s works!

[ranticore]

answering all my asks in a big bunch

@help-system

it's kind of cool to think about actually & something i didn't consider (re: the implications for future generations). the reason he has to stay in a town flock isn't just because he's formed attachments there, but because he is vision-impaired and his feathers are fucked from lack of structural pigment and would struggle to live without the support system (for lack of a better term) of the town around him. his survival depends on living in a society. that also means he'll survive to pass on this trait when otherwise he would not. it's recessive so yeah could definitely be passed on!

@focshi

Oh habitat & life habits change the look of the nests completely. for the ama plains eagle harpies I was imagining a kind of gourd-shaped woven bower.. sortaaa like this as the eastern edge of the plains (where they live) has emergent columnar basalt and it's on these big stone stacks where they make their nests. use rope and picks to secure the bowers to the columns and the king's eyrie (the tallest one naturally) is built around a log tied upright with guy-ropes driven into the stone. they are all flexible enough that they blow around a lot in the wind without suffering much damage (see pic below)

in between them are net-like rope platforms and ladders as well as more 'spires' which are the trees propped upright on the columns. solid stone is the only safe 'ground' material to build nests on.

@gardenergulfie many of the monsters were bound by additional magical rules on top of the "you are twisted into a monstrous form" main thing. i hadn't thought of many tbh but i believe sphinxes were more strictly bound by their riddle names rather than just doing it playfully by choice, i know there was more but it escapes me. i'll have to think of some!

wyrms are cursed with immortality in a very classical sense so it would be impossible for Revelation not to be around in Cuinn's time. but ah... i wouldn't say it's in a good state

wildfire unfortunately is no longer with us. in mind & spirit anyway.

For eagle harpies, baby-rearing is not communal. The parents swap brooding/hunting roles (one broods/warms the young, the other hunts, they barely get time to sleep). Once baby is old enough to fly it hops out and joins the other fledglings in their eyrie. Parents rarely have anything to do with them after that but they will occasionally stop by to deliver discipline if they feel their offspring isn't behaving properly.

Partnerships are monogamous (but if the king wants your girl then that's his girl for the night) and last as long as any relationships might; could be many years, could barely last a season. there's a stigma against breaking up while tending a nest so some harpies with relationship problems tough it out for the sake of the kids (this never works)

The king does not care about his offspring as people, only as tokens of his virility and strength. Kings often boast of how many offspring they have (and the All-King can have hundreds) but do they know all (or even any of) their kids' names? of course not

Regular cobs do most of the fathering because most flocks don't have a king and they have to reproduce somehow. There's no visible difference between the offspring of a king vs the offspring of a cob. eggs is eggs

Eagle harpy pens can lay up to 4 eggs in one nesting season. Sibling aggression is common in the early days and if unsupervised they can kill one another but that's seen as a sign of lazy and inattentive parenting UNLESS the baby being picked on was kinda runty and then it's their own fault for being a whimp and they should toughen up. Parents can lay unfertilised eggs but rarely do, it's similar to a false pregnancy. Unfertilised eggs are eaten. Harpies of different species base cannot interbreed, but bear in mind that harpy species diversity is overall much lower than birds.

Eagle harpies are VERY protective of their eggs. It's not unheard of for other harpies of the same eyrie to steal their neighbours' eggs for various reasons (you can gain favour if you have one of the king's offspring in your nest....). many predators also might want to take some as well (sphinxes are... very ferocious predators of harpies, but also you gotta watch out for that little human who might have ambitions of being a falconer). parents will guard their eggs viciously.

I don't think it's unreasonable to imagine such a scam tbh... yeah sure take this egg it'll tooootally hatch into a big strong harpy. human falconers probably candle their eggs frequently to monitor them so i think they would catch on very quickly though hehe

[ambrosianymph]

GOJO SATORU TEASES YOU UNTIL YOU CAN'T TAKE IT

Pairing: You x Satoru

Content: fem! reader, edging, very light choking, dom gojo

Word Count: 1.2k

"Gojo..."

You barely recognize your own voice. Your timbre is uncharacteristically high-pitched, whining, mewling like a smitten schoolgirl, your head lolling from side to side. He's pounding into you with such inhuman speed that you have no choice but to relax into the rhythm of his powerful thrusts, your vision blurring with unshed tears.

"Yes, sweet girl?"

He replies between ragged breaths, a delicious smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. God, he looks so fucking pretty towering over you, cerulean eyes moving up and down your frame hungrily, burning over every inch of your salty, sweat-soaked skin.

How long have you been going at it? How many hours has it been? It feels like centuries, especially considering Gojo's one rule — the one thing he said to you before he plunged into you:

"You're only allowed cum when I tell you to, and not a moment sooner. Understood?"

"Y.. Yes, Gojo."

Why, why, why did you agree to such cruel terms and conditions? You were beginning to question your sanity. How many god-forsaken times has he brought you to the edge of passion only to send you plunging right back down, smiling viciously through half-lidded white lashes as he toyed with you? You're not sure how much more of this you can take.

He knew you were utterly in his control. You were on his time. And he absolutely loved it.

You feel a sliver of drool dripping down the side of your mouth, slipping down, down toward your cheek where Gojo's thick, veiny hand is stroking your face lovingly — a stark contrast to how hard he's pummeling into your fleshy center.

"I... I n... need to cum."

There it was again, the sound of your pathetic little voice, begging the Strongest to allow you the release you so desperately desired — no, absolutely needed.

His eyes glaze over with pure, unadulterated lust as he watches you beg for him. You've never seen him look so ravaged and so fucking smug at the same time.

"You've been such a good girl for me. Such a patient girl."

His voice is deep and breathy. He bends to whisper directly into your ear, sending a wave of chills down from the tip of your spine toward your hardening nipples.

"But not yet."

You groan loudly, a mix of pleasure and deep, deep frustration. It was all you could do to hold back your peak as he pulls away from your ear and grabs one of your legs, throwing it haphazardly over his shoulder, angling even deeper into your weeping pussy.

He was quite proud of his work, watching you come undone. Quite pleased to have you so pliant, so willing in his hands. The sight of your flushed cheeks, your eyes rolling in every direction, your legs quivering with every slap of his strong thighs against you — he couldn't get enough of watching you burn for him.

"Gojo... p... please..."

You nearly buckle as he teases you with long, luscious strokes from his thick fingers circling your clitoris, perfectly in-time with each stroke of his mushroom tip.

"What was that, my love?"

He replies, feigning ignorance. Pretending he didn't just hear your plea, switching his pace to an unbelievably cruel slowness. You're practically crying.

"Please, Gojo, please! I n.. I need to..."

The scene in front of you blurs as Gojo flips you around, suddenly and unceremoniously. He's sitting on his knees in the center of the bed, grabbing you by your waist and pushing you roughly down to plunge into you from behind. The back of your thighs echo in one loud, lewd SLAP against the front of his.

He stills his movement completely, rock hard and pulsing inside of you without thrusting. Your pussy clenches around him desperately, dripping in thick layers onto his flushed pelvis.

You whine and try to move your hips against his girth, but he holds you down with unparalleled strength, forcing you to stay still, impaled by his unmoving cock.

His breath is heavy with restraint, panting with the effort it takes to hold back from moving his hips. His voice is a coarse, shaky whisper from behind you,

"Tell me what you need."

Your heart skips a beat.

"I need you to make me cum, Gojo."

His hips stay still as he places his left hand around your throat from behind, very lightly squeezing. Just enough to add pressure without restricting your breathing.

"And what if I say no?"

Your hips buck again, but he pushes you back down with a strict firmness, holding you still as ever, chastising you. You can almost hear his smirk widening from behind you.

"I... I'm begging you, please, p...please!"

He reaches around with his right hand, left hand still gently gripping your throat. It makes its way slowly, teasingly down the entire shape of you, along the curve of your breast, brushing against your sensitive nipple, traveling along your soft abdomen, down, down, down, until...

"Is this what you want?"

You gasp softly as his fingers finally find your poor clitoris, buzzing with hot, unfulfilled desire. His hand dances in slow, languid circles around it.

"Yes, G... Gojo, yes..."

Your voice is tinged with desperation as he quickens his movement around your clit, other hand tightening around your throat ever-so-slightly, hips still refusing to thrust into you. You can feel him hardening even more inside you, pushing warmly against the tip of your cervix.

Your chest is heaving. You've completely lost control. You need it. You need him more than you've ever needed anything in your life.

"You wretched thing," he laughs, panting into your ear, "so desperate for me. So ready to cum all over me as soon as I give the word."

Out of nowhere, you feel a surge of hot jujutsu flash along the inside of your wet walls as Gojo snaps, suddenly and completely losing his composure. In an incomprehensible flash of light, he's thrusting up into you like it's the first time he's ever fucked you, his facade failing, his voice devolving into thick whimpers as he drums wildly at your G-spot over and over.

"Oh my god," he groans, "Oh my god, you are so fucking delicious."

It's all you can do to hold on for dear life as he pummels up into you, slamming into you, rubbing wet circles around your clit faster and faster as his hold on your neck helps push you downward onto his thick, aching cock.

"Cum for me. Cum for me now."

It's almost like time stops — like he's sucked you directly into Unlimited.

Your release comes from a deep, deep place inside of you, swirling from your center and expanding slowly over every inch of your shaking body. Your muscles tense and expand in a pulsating rhythm, milking his cock.

Some vague part of you registers a growing warmth and wetness spreading inside of you, indicating Gojo has reached his peak as well — but you're lost. Lost, lost, lost in wave upon wave of crashing pleasure as your orgasm suddenly picks up speed, traveling in an electric wave of jujutsu all the way toward your fingertips and toes, arching your back.

Your hips buck wildly against Gojo, pushing deeper into the most intense orgasm you've ever had, as he rests his head on the nook between your shoulder and neck and kisses you softly on the comedown.

Neither of you says a word as he pulls out and pulls you into a warm embrace, face-to-face.

"You're evil, you know that?" You finally say between ragged breaths.

Gojo's eyes crinkle into his characteristically innocent smile.

"Me?"

[physalian]

Character Types: Self-Destructive Paragon

I just came up with that term right now to describe characters whose philosophy is: I will be good and kind even if it kills me.

If you have a more apropos one, I’d love to hear it.

But I think being a “self-destructive paragon” with emphasis on the self-destruction is to be good out of spite, to be cynically optimistic, to do the right thing because fuck, no one else is going to, the world is shit, people can be shit, but I will not be people.

Similar to the Fixer but more self-aware and less of a doormat, the SDP is a character I think the world needs more of to stand against toxic positivity and exhausting silver linings.

Instead of “the world is good and I’m going to prove it :D” in the face of daunting misery and suffering, it’s “the world is messy and complicated and we are all suffering, but I have the means to do good, and nothing will stand in my way”.

Painfully naïve characters are not compelling (to me). They’re preachy, they always need rescuing, they strawman cynics and pessimists, and when they do face a situation they cannot put a positive spin on, they still hold the moral high ground with little room for nuance, and they tend to get into situations that no other character would be stupid and/or gullible enough to fall into.

It would be like if Katara was actually the Ember Island Players’ version of her for the entire show. Or, Aang’s caricature.

But she’s not. She’s suffered and been burned and humbled and isn’t at all afraid to get her hands dirty and risk her life doing what she thinks is right, like in "The Painted Lady". But she’s also messy and complicated, nearly killing a man in her revenge quest in "The Southern Raiders".

Katara will be good and kind and just and fair and noble, putting her life on the line again and again to prove it, but she's not as angsty (and not self-destructive) as the two examples I have in mind.

SDPs also tend to be written in bad faith, or as a bastion of virtue against other characters written in bad faith, depending on where you fall on the “hope is vital/hope is for children” spectrum for the message of your book.

Usually, other characters’ criticisms of the painfully naïve are that they have not suffered and their virtue signaling is tone deaf to their audience of people who cannot afford the luxury of looking on the bright side.

So, enter the self-destructive paragon.

This is a character who probably suffered deeply, for a long time, and who was painfully naïve until they had their wakeup call. But instead of devolving into a selfish cynic, they decided to not only be better, but to put their money where their mouth is and do better.

This is a character who was probably mocked and dragged down again and again by cynics who want to make them as miserable as the rest of the world, and gosh darn it, they just won’t break.

They might risk their lives, their health, their stability, or their reputation trying to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved, determined to help someone they’re convinced just can’t see that they need help yet. Or, they might be a Robin Hood figure, blithely shuffling resources around with some worldly calluses on their soul.

Or, they might have faith in the world, but have zero faith in themselves, making themselves the exception for every grace they extend to other people.

Even if their “self-destruction” is a permanent rage against the system and the cynicism, giving themselves fully to their cause and losing their sense of “self” in the process, this is a character compelled to go beyond their means, no matter the cost. These characters tend to not even think of themselves as "heroes" to be praised, they're just doing what they think is right and might suffer a bit of imposter syndrome when the laurels come their way.

I like these characters because of their fierce honesty, and the knife’s edge upon which they walk. You understand their morality and their integrity explicitly, and the lengths they will go to stand up for what they believe in can have horrible unintended consequences.

And who’s a better self-destructive, angsty do-gooder than the Dark Knight himself? Specifically the iterations where he isn't going around branding and murdering people. BTAS-era. Bats doesn’t give himself a break and he’s my favorite DC hero in large part because he has a villain’s backstory straight-up, and chooses to be good.

Spoiled little rich kid watches his parents get murdered and inherits impossible wealth and could very easily use all that money, power, and influence to become a supervillain in adulthood. He has the costume, the aesthetic, the brutality, the motive, and the means.

But Batman is a hero, and he will do good and be good, even if it kills him. He spits in the face of every real-world billionaire who rests on their winnings, every person in power who so superficially laments the plight of the poor. Is he perfect? Nope, but that’s more of the limitations set by the people who write him and not his character itself. He might not be a complete cynic about the state of the world, but he sure is a cynic about himself or as the Nolan Bats said: “I’m whatever Gotham needs me to be.” Even if that makes him a pariah to preserve the reputation of a better man (in his mind) so that Gotham can have their faith rewarded.

Raven of DC’s Teen Titans is also a self-destructive paragon, another character with the motive and the means to easily become a villain and be the worst thing to happen to the world, but chooses not to. Specifically the 2003 cartoon version. She’s been fated to bring about the end of the world, daughter of a ruthless villain whose sole purpose for existing is to be his portal. Her whole life she’s kept people at a distance, refusing to let people in to get her hopes up and have good things so she doesn’t have to lose and hurt them.

But she is a hero. Per Robin, “the most hopeful person I know”. And she will be good, even if it kills her.

—

I know "hero born from villainy whose personality is Angst" (Gaara fits well) is the bread and butter of shonen edgy bad boys but the difference I'm trying to highlight is how quickly these characters will throw themselves on their own swords, with crippling self-worth issues.

So of course I wrote them. Thrice.

One in Eternal Night of the Northern Sky on Amazon

And two in Little Red Dot up on Ao3

[lunarflux]

x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

a/n: soooo i've never had a taglist before, so if i'm missing anyone please say something lol

part 16: the cold acknowledgement of truth

word count: 1,924 tag: @bruhidkjustwannaread | @rubyxx16 | @bellabarnes1378 | @johnmurphys-sass

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The truth—it was a dreadful term. It was awful because there was a truth, but beneath that single statement, there was a whole story beneath it. That's why you loved books, loved your shop. Inside those walls were a thousand truths and their stories. The truth was always simple, but everything beneath it was not.

You stared at the photo of Ezra, pinched tightly between your fingers. Tommy was asleep, but when you picked up his trousers, the photo fell to the floor. In that brief second when it drifted down just before hitting the carpet, you felt the world stop. Hundreds of memories coursed from your heart until it reignited your veins. While your first reflex was to rudely awake Tommy from his slumber, after your thoughts settled, you realized that the more important part of this moment was that you had to explain yourself. You had to tell the story you'd avoided for years. The reason why you ran and probably would continue to run.

"I was going to ask you in the morning."

When you turned, Tommy sat upright in bed. He stared out at the wall, almost unwilling to meet your eyes because he, too, felt like he was caught in the middle of the lie. It wasn't a lie, but still, he felt guilty.

"You..." You took a deep breath. "Where did you find this?"

"Finn found it at the bookshop. In your desk." Tommy reached for a cigarette and attempted to hand you one.

You just looked at him, eyes not quite glaring but concerned. "How long have you had this?"

"A while."

You snapped, hand flying across his cheek. Tommy stood and grabbed your wrists as you tried your hardest to hit him again. He hushed you, trying to understand your incoherent rant. When you finally gave up resisting, there were tears gathered at the corners of your eyes.

He released you, taking your face in his hands. He pleaded with you in spite of the anger you tried to direct back at him.

"I was going to ask you, alright?" Tommy reasoned. "But you were still healing. You needed time, y/n. I wasn't going to put you through anymore pain."

"So, your solution was to fuck me first and ask questions later?" Your voice was laced with rage, but he continued.

"You know that's not what happened last night, y/n. Hate me all you want for wanting to wait, but you can't be angry with me for not wanting to be the source of your frustration." Tommy stroked your cheeks with his thumbs. He kissed you gently, and while you wanted so badly to hit him again, you relaxed just enough to accept the gesture. "We need to know if he is the reason why Bingham tried to kill you. But I will only ask you when you're ready... Or if it's absolutely necessary."

"And is it absolutely necessary now?"

Tommy nodded softly.

You took several deep breaths to steady yourself. You'd never told anyone about Ezra, not since you left London. But if you had to say it now, the fact that Tommy was the one who was asking allowed you a small comfort.

“Bingham doesn’t just hurt people. He breaks them,” you said finally, your voice just above a whisper. “And he knew exactly how to break me.”

Tommy said nothing. He ran his fingers through your hair, letting you find your words at your own pace.

“His name was Ezra,” you continued, eyes slowly shutting as if you needed to recall his face. “He was kind. And firm. Solid in life and his decisions. But he wavered because of me. He…” Your voice faltered, and you swallowed hard, tears growing heavy before sliding down your cheeks. “Ezra, he had seizures. Sometimes for no reason. Other times because something was unbearable. We never knew when it would happen.”

Tommy’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t press you to continue, knowing you needed the space to speak freely.

“You know, even back then, I was like this. I loved secrets. I loved when others told me theirs, and I did the same then just as I am now,” you admitted. You opened your eyes and met his with a somber smile. “I used it for my benefit. I thought I didn't have anymore secrets to keep from Ezra, but I guess there was one.

"I found him on the floor." You shut your eyes again, your lip quivering as you struggled. "It happened again, another seizure. It was so… So violent. I tried to get help. They took him to the hospital, and when I tried to follow, Bingham was outside. Said he spoke to Ezra, but wouldn't tell me what it was about. The way he looked at me—fuck, Tommy—the way he looked at me with that fucking smile. He made me feel like whatever he said brought on the seizure, and if it was about me, then Ezra's death was on my hands."

Tommy rested his lips against your forehead, and he felt you tremble.

You inhaled sharply. The tears kept flowing, but you forced yourself to continue. "When Ezra's father came to me, he just told me to leave. Never show my face in London again. Said that a man named Alfred Bingham brought him disturbing information, and that he was paying me a courtesy because Ezra loved me."

You chuckled bitterly.

"So I left. I might have had another choice, but I couldn't find another way out."

“And then you came to Birmingham,” Tommy said, his voice soft but steady.

You looked at him, your eyes glistening but defiant. “Not at first. Bingham found me again soon after.”

The fire crackled in the silence that followed, the weight of your words slowly drifting in the air.

"He made sure I would think it was my fault." Your eyes became distant. You reached up to your neck, and your fingers stroked just below your chin. "And he made me pay for the burden of that guilt with my skin."

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Tommy poured himself a glass of whiskey, his movements deliberate and slow, the weight of his thoughts pulling at him. Polly sat in an armchair across from him, her sharp eyes fixed as she waited for him to finally speak.

“Well?” Polly prompted, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “You said it was serious. So speak.”

Tommy leaned back, rolling the glass between his fingers as he stared into the amber liquid. For a moment, he seemed almost reluctant, a rare vulnerability in his normally stoic demeanor.

“I know who he is,” he said finally, his voice low and controlled. "The man in the photograph."

Polly raised an eyebrow, her interest piqued. “Go on.”

“She had a man once,” Tommy began, setting the glass down. “Ezra. Young, from what I’ve pieced together. Picture-perfect sort of love—at least from the outside.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the photograph the brothers had found, sliding it across the table to Polly.

She studied the image, her gaze softening for just a moment before she placed it back down. “And?”

Tommy’s jaw tightened. “He’s dead. And she blames herself.”

Polly frowned, leaning forward. “Blames herself how?”

“Bingham.” Tommy’s tone was bitter as he said the name, his hand curling into a fist. “He convinced her it was her fault. Told her that whatever happened to Ezra was because of her choices. Fed her guilt like poison until she believed every word.”

Polly sat back, exhaling sharply. “And was it her fault?”

“She doesn't know.” Tommy’s voice dropped, his frustration creeping into his tone. “She’s spent years living with the weight of it, not knowing if Bingham was right or if he was just using it to keep her under his thumb.”

Polly’s face hardened, her mind clearly working through the implications. “You're saying he’s not just going after her physically—he’s been in her head. For years.”

Tommy nodded, his fingers tapping against the arm of his chair. “It’s why she doesn’t let anyone close. Why she walked away that night, after…” He trailed off, his eyes flickering with a shadow of something unspoken.

Polly caught it, her lips pressing into a thin line. “My God, Tommy. How in deep are you?”

Tommy’s gaze snapped to hers, cold and sharp. “Deeper than I would usually care to.”

Polly tilted her head, studying him with a knowing look. “If you can't say you're in love with her now, then I'm afraid I've lost the point of all of this.”

Tommy didn’t answer, his jaw tightening as he looked away.

Polly sighed, leaning forward again. “Tommy, listen to me. Y/n isn't Grace. She doesn't just help you—she acts. She acts a little too much like you, and I know that's why you can't wrap your head around whatever it is that you feel for her. Most importantly, y/n seems to be the first woman in your life who is more than willing to prove you wrong without forcing you to change. She not only accepts you. She welcomes whatever darkness you might bring into her life because she's already in that world.

"If Bingham’s got her this twisted up over something she doesn’t even know the truth about, he’s not just a threat to her. He’s a threat to you. To all of us. If she starts doubting herself when it matters most, she could bring us all down.”

“I know that,” Tommy snapped, his voice harsher than he intended. He dragged a hand down his face, his frustration evident.

Polly softened, her sharp gaze turning more maternal. “It's about time you're honest with yourself as to why you're going through all this trouble for her, Tommy. Because if you don’t…” She trailed off, letting the weight of her words hang in the air.

Tommy stood, pacing toward the window. He looked out over the darkened grounds, his mind already turning over what needed to be done.

“If this is what it was supposed to feel like,” he said finally, his voice quieter but resolute. “I'm not so sure I ever really knew what it was.”

Polly rose, walking over to stand beside him. "What?"

"Being in love."

She placed her hand on his shoulder, masking the soft smile from his admission. “Just remember, Tom. You might think you’re protecting her, but some walls need to be broken before they can be rebuilt. And sometimes, people need more than a reason to fight. They need someone who gives a damn. She'll need more than a night in your bed to understand.”

Tommy’s expression didn’t change, but his silence spoke volumes.

Polly removed her hand and backed away towards the door, but he called her back with a truth more painful than he wanted to admit.

"He hurt her."

She stopped and turned to him. "How?"

The look in Tommy's eyes told Polly everything she needed to know.

She nodded softly just as the the sympathy of anger started to bubble in her chest. Polly held her head high, the face of maternal strength returning with her resolve.

"Then make sure the bastard gets what he deserves."

As Polly left the room, Tommy stayed where he was, the weight of her words settling over him. His thoughts drifted back to you. To the woman who had survived so much but carried a pain you refused to share. And to the flicker of something he’d seen in your eyes—a longing, buried deep, that mirrored his own.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Ahh gotta ask for more of this

🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️

I don't remember if you've mentioned how long you'll think it'll be, is a shorter one or a longfic?

Thanks💕💕 💋

Awesome! And I think it's just going to be a longer-ish one-shot. Like 15-20k? Idk! I'm at about 5k rn.

120 or 1k - whatever I reach first:

---

“Yes!” Eddie exclaims. Potentially unwisely but he’s unable to assess long term repercussions right now. “Yes, yes. Just like you. And… And I get why you haven’t told anyone here.”

Buck’s eyes widen. “I couldn’t! No one would believe me!”

Eddie frowns. Well, okay. He’s not that stealthy, if that’s what he thinks. Eddie figured it out. 

“Well, they might…” Eddie says carefully. “But I get it. Not a lot of people know about me either.”

Buck considers this. “But you’re from El Paso?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah? We’re everywhere, man.”

“Even inland?” Buck asks. 

What the hell? Is he like, against the South? There are queer people everywhere! The west coast and, like, New York, aren’t the only place with trans people. Also, Texas has coastline. Even if El Paso doesn’t…

“Yes, even inland,” Eddie replies. 

“Wow,” Buck exhales. “When did it happen? How?” 

What? What does he mean how? Same way it happened to him, presumably?

“Dude,” Eddie says. “I think you’re really high right now.”

Buck blinks. “I am. I am really high.”

“We should… Maybe we can talk about this sober,” Eddie suggests. 

“Yes!” Buck agrees. “Yes, I want to.”

Eddie smiles. “Okay. Grreat. That’s… That’s great.”

“Can I… There’s a beach! Can we talk at the beach? You know, privately?”

The beach? Why does he want to go to a beach? Is that a normal place to talk? He’d think, like, one of their places… A coffee shop? A park? Eddie can’t say he’s a big fan of the beach. Not that he’s spent much time at one, but… Well, he doesn’t imagine it’s a super comfy experience for him.  

“Uh, okay. Sure. If that’s what you want,” Eddie replies. 

“Yes! Please, I’m so excited, Eddie. I’ve never met anyone else like me,” Buck beams. 

“Never?” Eddie gapes. 

“No,” Buck confirms. “Why? Are there a lot of us?”

Buck is so fucked up right now. Damn.

“Yes,” Eddie replies. “Especially in L.A.”

“Oh! Is that why you moved here?” Buck asks.

“It was a factor, yeah.”

“Wow. Okay, wow,” Buck is grinning. “I’m so happy.” 

Eddie smiles. He might have too much LSD in his system to feel the requisite fear for what he’s just done, but he’s happy too. He thinks it’ll be really good to have a friend he can fully be himself around. 

🌻

Buck texts Eddie the next morning. Sends him a location. Not even an address. A latitude longitude location. It’s a small, rocky stretch of beach with road access between Los Angeles in Malibu. Strange, Eddie thinks. There are so many nicer options. Eddie wonders if, like himself, Buck is just nervous. Wants somewhere quiet. Again, one of their homes would have worked. 

When he parks the truck at their agreed upon meet-up time, Eddie knows Buck is already there. The Jeep is parked, but he’s not inside. He must already be down by the water. Alright. Whatever. 

Eddie gets out of the truck and heads down a wooden stair accessway. He sees Buck at the bottom, standing near the water, barefooted and just far enough away from the edge of the water to avoid getting wet from incoming waves. He’s wearing swim shorts and a tank top. Oh god. Buck doesn’t think they’re going swimming, does he? Eddie is really not okay with that. 

His hands are shaking by the time he makes it to the stony, uneven surface of the beach. It’s been so long since he’s ever slipped and told anyone. Of his own volition. That person died. And then… And then the next people to find out? They hadn’t wanted Eddie around anymore. So this? This could be a disaster. But it could also be great. He and Buck, they could be really great friends. Eddie thinks he needs that. More than he realized. 

“Buck,” he calls out, stepping awkwardly to avoid discomfort on his feet. There are a lot of fucking rocks. 

Buck turns around, wide grin on his face. “Hey! Eddie, hi!”

“Uh, so why this beach?” Eddie asks.

“It’s super private, for one,” Buck says. “Out of the way.”

“You’re afraid of being seen,” Eddie says. 

“Yeah, aren’t you?” Buck frowns. “I mean, I’ve tried to be so careful.”

“I don’t think anything about this is going to out us, Buck,” Eddie says quietly.

“Right, because it’s a quiet beach!” Buck grins. “You ready?”

Eddie blinks. “Ready to… Talk?” 

“Well, yeah. Talk,” Buck says, final word said with air quotes. 

Why the air quotes? 

[taylor-titmouse]

So recently I've been going through your long road tag on patreon (getting myself prepped to buy the book!) And I was wondering something about Dwarf of straps/packers;

You mentioned that they're used by both Rocks and Jewels, but does being a rock/jewel affect what the phallus might look like? It kinda made me wonder if jewel phalluses would be more ornate looking/brighter or decorated compared to more natrual looking ones for rocks? Or is it just more "it's the same and varied to whatever someone likes"?

that's a fun question

i would say that there are definitely stereotypes and expectations for what a jewel or rock would wear for a phallus. it's probably dependent on the culture of the particular fort, but you've got the general idea right: you expect a jewel to wear something ornate, and a rock to wear something functional.

that said, ornate jewel phalluses would be more like decorative codpieces, rather than something used to fuck (as jewels, while not Exclusively, are more likely to be bottoms. and again this is regardless of genital situation). so a jewel might have a diamond studded gold piece they wear to parties. nobody is expecting them to put that inside anyone, and if they Did want to hook up and top, they would swap it out for something functional. this is somewhat complicated by rich/royal rocks, who would also be wearing ornate cocks for flashiness reasons. (the dwarf term for how jewel-like wealthy rocks are is "encrusted". i made that up just now. it's their equivalent to effeminate)

in terms of Actual functionality, solid glass dildos are favored by jewels because they can still be beautiful. rocks will use a wider variety of materials. dwarves have Probably figured out a rubber/silicone equivalent given they've had their top minds on the problem for centuries. instead of using it for wheels or medical equipment they are using it for cocks

[alekthefox]

Kavetham/Haikaveh in fantasy/myth hybrids AU (Homebrew 5e D&D)

I imagine Alhaitham has some new Kaveh-related lie about his relics of earpieces (legendary in D&D terms).

Alhaitham: "I wear them to shield from Kaveh's voice. He's a siren."

NPC: "OH. You are traveling with a siren??" (terrified, impressed)

Kaveh, bird-human or bird-lion-human (Aarakocra or Griffin): "Ok, what the fuck?"

(Do not start the siren or mermaid argument, myths are different, both are correct. A siren in one myth is bird-human like harpies and in another fish-human like mermaids.)

Alhaitham: "These? My travelling companion, Kaveh, is a banshee. He burst my eardrums long ago."

(Banshee - screaming ghost, psychic damage inbound)

Kaveh, yelling from Alhaitham's fancy-ass cart, therefore not really beating the allegations: "YOU—!!!! Ohhhh! I'm picking your scales/feathers off tonight!"

(Can't decide between Gorgon/snake-human Alhaitham or his canon bird-coded self.)

Ramble headcanons below line

But also I absolutely need to see Haikaveh/Kavetham preening the other's wings.

And Kaveh puffing up his feathers. Specifically the chest feathers. Because Alhaitham's frustrating. Chest feathers because his shirt-less shirt—that's actually just sleeves cuz its frontless and backless—needs to stay from canon.

Where did Haithem get this relic? Illegal shit. Obviously.

Kaveh's probably a paladin (just for righteousness, not specifically religions or the crown or revenge) or a bard. Yes, bard. They don't always need to be musical. Make an architectural bard. But also you cannot tell me this man can't dance. OMG WAIT ARTIFICER? YES, HE'S AN ARTIFICER. THAT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE ACTUALLY. +AUTOMATON MEHRAK

Alhaitham? He's the most broken multiclass you can think of. Not one I can, but one you can. My suggestion rn would be wizard+fighter, there's a specific 5e wizard subclass that's broken with fighter. Or was that bladesinger I'm thinking of?? Either way he still pretends he's a feeble low-level wizardly scholar. And can put on a show if needed to seem like barbarian rage (AZAR!!!!) also thaumaturgy red eyes edgy fucking bitch (I love him).

I don't know much about the mechanics ok I just had a silly idea

[ecofear]

hi you're The rogue trader mutual to me so if it's not too much work could you tell me a bit about it :) i'm interested in trying it out and i did read the wikipedia article but i would like to hear something less formal

of course no pressure if you don't have time or energy for it

TAKES A DEEP BREATH

let me set up warhammer 40k a little bit.

this is a very rich with lore universe, it is full of things to consume and learn about, every warhammer 40k fan has their favourite things about it, and there's so many sub-communities based on these things. people who love the imperium, tech-priest fans, necron fans, all sorts, all in their little bubbles. it's fascinating! there's also multiple points in history people can fixate on! i know some people who only care about the emperor's sons (known as the primarchs) and the lorea and stories around them!

to give a very tldr rundown... warhammer 40k is a post apocalyptic world, long after humanity had left terra to explore the galaxy.

to start: people started to be born as psychic mutants, and that's how we got the first navigators, which allowed humanity to explore further than ever before, along with the creation of the warp-drive. this is when the imperium was first created. humanity thrived for a long time, but over time, psykers started to be born, think of them as humans who could use a form of magic. unfortunately, psykers are at risk of being possessed by daemons, or opening portals to allow daemons in, which caused the downfall of humanity.

and then, the emperor of humanity, started a great crusade, in simple terms, to save humanity. he formed the pact with mars' tech-priests to use their technology, and created the primarchs (his sons, which are just genetic clones of himself) as well as the space marine legions... thus the imperiums expansion began. and the start of the horus heresy... which is chronicled in like one of the longest book series ever... just consider it the imperium (humanity) waging war after war after war trying to expand and grow and save themselves, and losing, and winning, and dying, and... yeah. eventually this ends but - humanity stagnates, is probably the best way i can put it.

the game rogue trader is theorised to take place around 999.M41. this means it takes place in... warhammer 40,000! the horus heresy takes place in 30,000... but i think it's important just just set up that beginning part. humanity is fucked, lets put it this way. everything that happened has let humanity to be terrified of power. they cling to the emperor, cling to the past they've lost, much of their history, their knowledge, completely gone. but they are so afraid of things getting like they were, of someone gaining so much power like horus had, that they just.. can't allow themselves to advance again. to the point people who think about that or suggest it are called heretics and killed. to say the imperium isn't perfect as it is now is heresy - but without advancement.. humanity is going to die. they have stagnated and eventually they won't be able to continue - but they are so proud, they can't admit it, or see it.

warhammer 40k is a depressing series of watching humanity suffer, and not taking any chances to change it. they just keep trying to expand. to take over planets and systems. to control everything. they see every other alien species are wrong, villainous, antagonists, that must be put down. even pyskers are treated horribly, despite the fact that their own emperor they love so much, is a psyker.

in rogue trader, you play as a character chosen by the emperor to expand into systems much further out than the imperium has, lawless, dangerous... your job is to bring them under heel. to rule, absolutely. while also squabbling with other rogue traders in the same system who also want it - because personal power is just as important. rogue trader is a game where you literally don't deal with money mechanics because you have more wealth than you could possibly know. you have at least 25,000 people living on your ship, some who have never left it, generations of their families born upon your ship, with you as their almighty ruler.

it's a game where you can be the best ruler to your people you can be, either by following the imperium's law absolutely, or by actually doing the right thing - which is against the law, btw. you could even listen to the whispers of chaos in your ear, be a psyker who plays a little too closely to the edge, risking daemons and god knows what else. you are forced to make hard choices. you have weight on your shoulders that risks crushing you. are you going to lead your people to glory? are you going to protect them, and try to save them? are you going to lead them straight into the maw of a god who will consume them whole? rogue trader is a fun roleplaying game. warhammer 40k is a fun roleplaying tabletop game. being lawful good is being just another sheep in the imperium whos going to watch it sail to its death with a salute, being a bad character is actually wanting the best for people - for treating alien races with respect and not killing them on sight, and being evil is like becoming the chosen prophet of a god who wants to ascend you to their right hand like a bride...

and that's before we even consider the absolutely insane dynamics with your companions. your senechal who is so deathly loyal to you he will focus you into the maws of chaos? your psyker diviner who just wants to be loved and appreciated - and how terribly you can twist her in this desire? a sister of battle who finds a sick gratification in killing - but she's killing for her god, so it's completely just, of course. how about a tech-priest who borders on the heretical with such a tight rope that pushing him over the edge is too easy - as if he was already there to begin with? or a space marine - a wolf - who is exactly like what you'd expect a space marine to be. we even have some hidden companions... one of which who is so fascinating to me, a priest, a prophet, a chaos space marine....

and how genuinely interesting the romances are. do you want a classic period drama romance where you woo a noble lady who blushes if you hold her hand and thinks kissing it is too forward? do you want to melt the ice man who has so much trauma and you swear you can fix him? do you wanna seduce a woman by gifting her an entire planet while she broadcasts your sex across your entire ship so all 25,000+ people hear it? do you want to slaughter your own people for sexual gratification and torture your loyal subjects while engaging in bdsm with an alien who can be your dom or your sub but god forbid you try to switch - which also has an ownership branding scene? how about a 'me and you against the world' soulmates type romance with an alien who sees you as a primative beast but your desire to understand her and her people softens her to you - and the furthest this romance can ever go is holding hands within your minds as you meditate together? or how about a death cult assassin whos been slaughtering your enemies who hide upon your ship right under your nose who very much wants to become your right hand like a devoted paladin-assassin of blood and murder?

ok i've typed so much i've made my arms sore but i genuinely could go on if not for this limitation..... i love rogue trader. i love it. i love it so much. i get so sad when i see roleplaying game enjoyers having no interest in picking it up. it's life changing. it's everything. it's a roleplaying game where you are beautifully rewarded for roleplaying. there's so much freedom. it's delicious to be evil, to manipulate and twist people to chaos. its maddening to try and follow the right path and be punished for it. and its gratifying to follow the emperors will.