#liss reads

[ghuleh-draws]

spicy terzo please and thank you mwah mwah

mwah mwah ♡

(a scene from infernal)

[tubborucho]

the mangoball format i think is just pretty good. it's very condensed but there's enough space for fluff and comedy. it's very good for characterization

which, it makes sense it's an mcyt thing? because mcyt fandoms are very heavily character-focused so a format like that is a good fit

yeah! tbf i just in general like fics in this format, I used to read so many when I was in IT(2017-2019) fandom

[qtubbo]

How Tubbo took Cellbit with having practically nothing but good enchanted armor was kinda hot of him actually, wish Fred saw that

liss 😭😭😭😭😭😭 im sure fred would have loved to see it

[ghuleh-recs]

hi lovely, do you have any multi-chapter fic recs? like slow burn/tear my heart out type fics?? <3

sooo you have probably read most—if not all of these already. i try to only rec things i have actually read and unless you’re into papa x reader, i don’t have a ton of multi-chapter offerings for you. an actual travesty! i will say, these are all excellent as rereads. thank you so so so much for the ask! i am truly so obsessed with your writing/gifs/etc. i hope one or more of these piques your interest ♡♡♡

Born Under a Troubled Sign / @iamthecomet / aether x dew x mountain

Dewdrop goes from water to fire. It goes about as well as can be expected.

Bury Me Alive / @high-imperatrix / aether x dew

The ministry performs an unorthodox summoning ritual in their desperate need for a new water ghoul, and Aether finds his life unexpectedly turned upside down. Aether struggles to balance his increasingly more intimate friendship with the new little ghoul with his serious relationship back home—and his growing fear of getting sent back to the pits.

love is all you need (series) / @gayrickgrimes / dew x rain x swiss

a series where i explore swiss, rain, and dewdrop’s developing relationship. featuring polyghouls. they’re all dating, i just want to focus on these three.

The First and The Last / @anamelessfool / omega x terzo

I AM OMEGA. I AM THE FIRST AND THE LAST. I AM THE FIRST OF YOUR GHOULS, AND I WILL BE THERE AT THE VERY END. WHEN YOU DIE. Terzo manifests his first ghoul, Omega, in his first ritual using the gift of the Infernal Eye.

and to anyone else reading this: feel free to add recs of your own either in the replies or reblogs!! i want some multi chapter slow burn tear my heart out fics toooooo (╥﹏╥)

[ghuleh-recs]

*angry italian noises*

RITE HERE RITE NOW RANT

Where were the other Papas??⁉️? It isn't right that they had a combined thirty seconds of screen time!! ��😡 If it wasn't for them Then copua wouldn't even this opportunity would he?🚫?

ANd to make it worse🤬 it was lonG‼️So there should have been more time.to. honour papas of the past🙌 but I have already made this point. I had to go to the BATHROOM🚽two times 2️⃣ because it was so long. also who wants tolook at him that long anyway👹

why??????❓❔⁉️ does he get so many outfits! Designer outfits twenty of the same jackets in different colours??🔵🔴🟡⚫🟢 some papas just wore their robes(boring) and some papas were forced to have their shirts sewn into their jackets with very improper tailoring just because ""if you INsist on white gloves that need To be changed every day we have to cut costs elsewhere👿"* but cooia gets two robes ANS everything else???

Papa Iii is much more handsome 🧛and would look much better in the hd4k surroundsound big screen then HIM SO papa iiI deserves a film more and they should bring jim back just to show everyone this😏 and go show the people what its like to see songs sang. Properly!!! you have not been ciriced until you have been ciriced by papa 3💜💜💟 or so I have heard snyway...

YHE ONLY THING that is good is that it accurately shows what a rude SELFish self absorbed man this cOPis is(although the old man deserves no respect 👍🏻👍🏻) just tonight he ate the last cannoli without offering to aNYONE!!! ELSE‼️‼️ SO this i do think the film does right

BUT....

The door slams open and he almost drops his phone in surprise. He was sat where he had been sat all evening, collapsed into this chair in the clergy commons after his disappointing dinner, thinking. His expression soured even further now it seemed another one of his brothers was here to ruin his day.

"Are you reading reviews of the movie again, frattelino?" Secondo asks, squinting at him across the dark room. "There is steam coming from your ears."

"I am not reading them no," he smirks a little, pushing the glasses he usually pretends not to need up his nose before continuing to tap away at his phone with his pointer finger. Secondo flicks on the light switch disrupting him once again with the blinding light so he shoots him a quick glare before resuming his somewhat frantic yet stilted typing.

"I do not like that look," he accuses, pointing at him as he crosses the room. "What are you doing then?" He circles the armchair in which Terzo is slouched, leaning around to look at the screen over his shoulder.

"None of your business," he pulls the phone to his chest to hide the screen. "Why must you stick your big old nose where it is not wanted eh?"

"Let me see!" He tries to wriggle away from his brother's seeking hand, tustling each other like they used to when they were children. He almost slides free but his escape is thwarted but his stupidly large brothers hand clamping onto his shoulder and pulling away his phone with the other.

"Give that BACK!" He struggles out of the squishy chair pushing his glasses back up into his hair so he can glare uninterrupted at his brother who is now scrolling through his review, shaking his head and tutting like a stupid old chicken.

"Terzo this isn't very nice," he says it so patronisingly he has to resist stamping his foot in frustration. Why should he be nice! He never got a moment like this and if he had he knows he would have done more, done better. And shouldn't Secondo be mad too?

"I stand by what I said," he huffs crossing his arms indignantly. "Aren't you annoyed? That we barely got a mention? Just that we were dead?"

"Well I would say I got about twenty of the thirty seconds we were on screen so how can I complain?" He expects the typical reaction he usually gets when he teases his brother but when Terzo instead, visibly deflates before flopping back into his chair he realises this might be a bit deeper than he thought.

"Terzo, come now, what is really the matter?" He moves to perch on the arm of the chair, handing him back his phone. When he doesn't respond straight away he reaches over to mess with his brother's habitually pristine hair, ruffling it into a birdnest as he used to before whenever Terzo got in his head and needed a distraction.

"Ay!" He shouts batting at his hand but at least he is glaring at him again instead of pouting dejectedly.

"I am happy for Copia, I suppose," he starts hesitantly smoothing his hair back into place. "It's just, we all worked hard too, and yes we may have not been as successful but without us to lay the ground work whose to say he would be 'rite here, rite now'." He waves his hands around, air quoting the title of the film dramatically.

"You are not wrong frattelino," he pauses before continuing trying to decide how to best console him. "But that is not what this story is about. It is about truly experiencing the moment you are in now, and not letting the times of the past or the what ifs of the future ruin it." His shoulders drop with a sigh so he wraps an arm around him squeezing him firmly.

"I just never got to..." He trails off but they both know what he was about to say.

"I know," he squeezes him again. "And none of that makes what they did to you right but that is in the past. People still love us no? We still have many praising us and screaming our names no matter what Copia does. We all have a place. Ours was over there, back then but who knows what the future will bring?" He stops when he sees his brother finally perking up.

"You are right I suppose," he shoots him a sideways glance. "This time at least." He picks up his phone and repositions his glasses on his nose. "I better delete all this then" He starts to tap away at the screen but Secondo stills his hand.

"I didn't say that," He says with a smirk. "You should add one about how his wig looks terrible."

"But Copia doesn't wear a... Oh!" They are far too old for this, Secondo thinks as they giggle like children coming up with more and more ridiculous complaints about the film. But right here, right now, he doesn't care.

[stray-kaz]

This is my current TBR mini pile. I am adding to it tomorrow 🙃

(And before anyone freaks out, I use the upside down smiley because I like the way it looks, no other reason. My autistic brain likes it).

[mojitomatt]

Risky

summary: you and chris are left together in the car…alone

Content warning: chris x fem reader, public sex (kinda), quickie, p in v, penetration, smut with little plot, hair pulling, creampie, unprotected sex (just wrap it)

Authors note: this one is only short. Sorryyy. This isnt proof read. Also send requests in my inbox!! Its always open, love Liss 🤍

We’re in the backseat of his brother’s car but, God, when my boyfriend is looking at me so needily, can you really blame me?

My legs are on either side of Chris’, his head is thrown back against the headrest as he pounds mercilessly into me. I have to grip the seats for stability because im sure if i don’t i would collapse from the euphoric feeling of Chris buried in me.

“Gotta be quick, baby..” Chris mumbles between breathy whimpers. His hands are gripping my hips so hard im sure it will bruise but the sheer eroticism of this moment makes up for it.

His cock is sloppily moving in and out of me and my gummy walls are clenched around him so tightly im surprised it isnt hurting him. Pleasure is coursing through me from my head to my toes.

We know his two brothers could come back any moment and find us like this so we are making it quick.

Chris is twitching uncontrollably inside of me, a melody of moans and whimpers leaving his perfect mouth. His warm seed spurts inside of me, the pressure of it nearly enough to make me come undone. Chris keeps moving at the same pace but this time he is kissing and nipping at my breasts. His hand travels up my back to my hair, grabbing a fistful of it and yanking my head back. The pain mingles with pleasure making a wince fade into a pornographic moan.

With the now open access to my neck, he hungrily sucks and kisses the skin like its his last meal, “oh, baby.” He groans against my sticky skin.

“i-…’m gonna-” i try to talk but my mind is fried from the rapture.

“Go ahead, angel.” Chris says. I clench around his length. His cock annihilating my sweet spot sends me over the edge making me come undone all over him. My moans make chris finish inside of me for the second time tonight.

I melt into him, our panting, sticky bodies just lay together for a few moments. “You did so good, babe, but we have to clean you up before nick and matt come back.” Chris mumbles.

I agree and chris cleans me up with a few tissues which he shoves into his pockets. “Gross.” I laugh as I get back into my clothes.

“What else should i do with it? Ill put it in the trash at home.” Chris smiles.

[torpublishinggroup]

“An absolute must-read.” —T. Kingfisher

This advertisement is for The River Has Roots, the solo debut of Amal El-Mohtar, co-author of This Is How You Lose the Time War. 

WHAT’S IT ABOUT

Sisters Esther and Ysabel Hawthorn tend and harvest the enchanted willows that grow on their land at the border of Faerie and the mundane world. The sisters honor an ancient compact to sing to the willows as thanks for their magic, and they cherish each other as much as they cherish their trees.

But when Esther rejects a suitor in favor of a lover from Faerie, she places their sisterly bond and their very lives in peril. Follow the river Liss to the small town of Thistleford, on the edge of Faerie, and meet two sisters who cannot be separated, even in death.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Close the Space

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!marketing agent!reader

Summary: When your life is threatened, your manager hires round-the-clock protection against your wishes. Despite your attempts to create space between yourself and your temporary bodyguard Jim Street, he closes it and makes you see the world as you never have before.

Warnings: canon typical violence and danger, brief angst, death threats, minor injuries, I don't know how long blowouts take, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 2.4k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“…seeing as you’re semi-famous and have received an influx of disturbing threats,” your manager continues.

“Wait, semi-famous?” you repeat. “I don’t think that’s a thing. And if the threats are so disturbing, why don’t you just call the police?”

“Because le diable lisse won’t take kindly to that.”

“Le diable lisse?” you ask, incredulous. “What is this, a 1960s movie?”

“You are in danger,” your manager snaps. “And, right now, I don’t care your opinion. You are getting round-the-clock protection.”

You sigh, then murmur, “It’s not necessary.”

“You…” Your manager sighs, then concludes, “It’s not a debate.”

“Hey, Deac, hold up,” Street calls as they prepare to exit the locker room. “I’ve been saving up for a new bike, and I almost have enough, but with OT getting cut, I’m looking for a way to make some extra cash.”

“I’m not letting you babysit my kids,” Deacon replies.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that even if you asked – kidding. I was wondering if your security gig was hiring, or if you could get me a one-time thing?”

“Let me talk to Buck,” Deacon offers. “I’ll see what we’ve got going on and let you know.”

“Thank you, Deacon.”

“Guys, we gotta go,” Hondo calls. “Le diable lisse just took an entire restaurant hostage.”

“Le diable lisse, the smooth devil,” Hicks explains, “is apparently back from his trip to Lyon and is looking to bring more of his family history back to LA.”

“More trafficking?” Luca inquires.

“Suspected, amongst other things.”

“Our bigger concern is the new extortion ring,” Deacon says. “Since his return flight, which landed at LAX at 2100 hours two nights ago, he and his crew have amassed an estimated $3 million through extortion.”

“Which is a white-collar crime,” Hondo points out. “Why jump to hostage taking?”

“If we knew the answer to that, we wouldn’t need a SWAT team,” Hicks interjects. “Too many possibilities.”

“Which restaurant?”

“The Little Door. Outdoor security cameras put five civilians inside plus the staff, so roughly twenty-five hostages,” Deacon explains.

“And le diable lisse is inside now?” Street asks.

“As far as we know.”

“Then let’s go get him,” Tan exhorts.

Deacon’s phone rings, and he raises his brows before he shows the screen to Hondo and Hicks.

“Buck?” Hondo asks. “What’s he want?”

Deacon shrugs before he answers the call. “Hey, Buck… Whoa, when?... In LA?... Ridgeview Country, Shadow Mountain… Yeah, I got it. Thanks for the heads up.”

“Ridgeview Country Estates?” Hicks repeats. “Le diable lisse has property there: a small vineyard.”

“He’s not in the restaurant,” Deacon says. “He’s making threats against a civilian.”

He taps the tablet a few times before your picture appears on the screen. Deacon says your name, then adds, “She works in marketing, is picky about her clients, but managed to make a name for herself by collaborating with a few of the brands she represents.”

“Let me guess, Mexican restaurants, which our French boy doesn’t like,” Hondo jokes.

“It’s mostly specialty apparel,” Hicks reads from the computer.

“Expensive, then,” Tan deduces.

“Yes, but not designer, specialty. It’s athletic and first-responder clothing designed to protect the wearer. She’s done marketing for a few commercial chains, some skincare and publishers, but nothing that should’ve landed her on French organized crime’s radar,” Street says. “There’s more to this.”

“We can go talk to her manager after the hostage recovery,” Deacon suggests. “She’s with Buck now.”

“Commander?” Hondo asks.

“Yeah, let’s follow Deac’s lead on this,” Hicks agrees.

“Let’s roll out!”

“Any idea why someone would be threatening you?” Buck Spivey asks. “Or who?”

“No clue,” you answer, setting your phone on the table before you. “Despite what my manager Erin may have told you, I’m nobody.”

“Your net worth is climbing. Hourly. That makes you somebody,” Buck’s partner, Owen, says.

“Maybe someone didn’t like how the uniform they ordered fit, or the skincare gave them a rash,” you offer. “I truly have no idea.”

“We’re looking into a few leads,” Owen assures you. “Until then, we agree with your manager and are going to provide 24/7 executive protection.”

“Absolutely not,” you argue. “I am a grown woman; I don’t need to be babysat because there is potentially going to be danger.”

“It’s not permanent,” Erin says. “It’s for your safety, and when the person is identified, your life can go back to normal.”

“Terrific,” you deadpan. “Find somebody, then, but I make no guarantee that I’ll do anything they ask of me.”

“Don’t doubt that one bit,” Owen mumbles to Buck.

“He’s not talking,” Hondo says as he exits the interrogation room. “Clearly works for our smooth devil, though, so we can assume he’s responsible for the distraction at the restaurant and he’s close. Any update from Buck?”

“Street’s on his way over there now,” Deacon replies. “He and Owen think he’s targeting our marketing executive for something she may have seen or heard, but nothing solid.”

“You trust Street to do this?”

“Trust me,” Deacon says, smiling.

“Oh, I like that smile, man. Tell me more.”

“Well, according to Owen,” Deacon begins.

“Hi, I’m Jim Street,” Street says, offering his hand.

You say your name, shake his hand, and return to your laptop. “Help yourself to whatever, or leave your choice.”

“Uh, thanks.”

Street closes your door and locks it before he looks around. You try to ignore him in your periphery, but you don’t want a bodyguard, and an off-duty cop seems even worse.

“Look,” you call, spinning in your desk chair. “I don’t think you need to be here, and I have a presentation in the morning, so if you could just… stop. I would really appreciate it.”

Street takes several breaths before he asks, “You’re receiving death threats and want me to stop?”

“They’re threats, just words.”

“You’re in marketing. You should know better than anyone that words carry a lot more than meaning.”

“Oh, so you’re an expert in marketing, too? Well, maybe you should just take my job then since you seem prepared to deal with every aspect of my life.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Street defends.

You know that, but you are still vehemently against the idea of having him at your side 24/7 because some lunatic slipped a few pieces of paper into your mailbox, under your door, and into your car. So, you can give Street a hard time, you think. Especially considering he’s here for no good reason.

“I have to make a call,” you say.

As you stand, Street moves toward you.

“In private.”

“I’ll wait in the hall,” Street says.

“This isn’t exactly a conversation I’d like to have you overhearing.”

“Then I won’t listen, but I have to be close enough to assist you if something happens.”

You sigh dramatically, then lead Street toward your bedroom. Locking the door behind you, you hum to yourself as you consider your options. The window opens, and attic access in your closet, so there’s no excuse to continue feeling like a prisoner in your home.

“If you go out the window, the guy watching your driveway will see you,” Street calls through the door. “And attic access leads to the guest bedroom, right? So, I’d see you come out.”

“Why would I leave?” you reply. “It’s my house.”

“Just wanted to make sure you knew.”

Pressing your fist against the wall, you wonder if there’s a better way to get space than lying about a phone call or showering.

When you emerge from the bedroom nearly an hour later with a fresh blowout, Street looks up from his seated position and tilts his head to the side.

“Important call?” he repeats.

“The call of beauty can’t be sent to voicemail,” you reply. “I’m going to make lunch.”

Street nods as he stands, and knowing he’s behind you makes you itch to run out the front door and not stop. Somewhere inside of you, you understand that he’s looking out for you, and the threats probably do have some truth in them, but you feel like a caged animal and don’t want to be watched.

“Hicks.”

Hondo raises his head as Commander Hicks answers his phone, and he stands straighter when Hicks demands, “What? How?!”

“What is it, Commander?” Hondo asks.

“Patrol just lost sight of le diable lisse,” Hicks replies. “North of Pacific Palisades.”

“That’s headed toward Street,” Hondo realizes.

“Call him,” Hicks commands. “And find out where Luca and Tan are, we need to get eyes on this guy right now!”

Street’s phone rings, and when he turns around to answer it, you open the cabinet that doubles as a hidden entry into your pantry. Slipping inside, you sigh at the privacy it offers. After you push yourself onto the counter, you cross your legs and pull your favorite snack from the shelf above you.

“Yeah, she’s right here,” Street says, turning toward the kitchen. He says your name, steps forward, and calls your name again. “She was just here!”

“Find her, Street,” Deacon demands, pushing his gas pedal to the floor. “I’m alerting Owen now.”

“Yeah.”

Street ends the call and begins running through your house, searching every place you have hidden already. It’s a nice house, but it’s not huge, and each empty room Street finds increases his worry that you left.

Five minutes later, he returns to the kitchen and realizes that the food you are making is gone. Wherever you are, you either took the food with you or managed to put it up in less than thirty seconds while he spoke to Deacon.

Street begins opening cabinets, hoping to find you under the sink or at the other end of the island but growing concerned that he won’t find you. When he pulls the cabinet beside the fridge, he doesn’t expect it to open like a full-sized door. He sees cabinets lining a wall before him and tenses his jaw as he enters the butler’s pantry.

You’re seated on the counter, eating a snack, and Street can’t stop himself from yelling your name. You look up quickly and press a hand to your heart.

“I have been looking for you everywhere!” he exclaims, pointing toward the door.

“Oh, Street,” you reply airily. “What a coincidence. I have been avoiding you everywhere!”

“I’m done playing into the game everyone is where they tell you half the story and expect you to comply with basic instructions,” Street seethes. “You are in danger. Real, serious danger. There is a lunatic out there threatening to come into your house in the middle of the night and make you beg for your life before he takes it. And, if my team is right, that lunatic is on his way here right now. So, listen to me for a few measly hours and then I will be out of your hair!”

You knew that Street was getting tired of your attempts to get space. Though you were admittedly entertained by his reactions and expressions when you returned, the reality of your situation is now blindingly apparent.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly, sliding off the counter. “What do you want me to do?”

Street’s shoulders drop before he says, “You actually might’ve been onto something. Stay in here, okay?”

“I will.”

Street returns to the entry, and you repeat, “I’m sorry.”

“Maybe I’ll let you make it up to me with some new clothes.”

You send him a closed-lip smile, then sink to the floor to wait for the danger to pass. It was easier when you didn’t know what was really happening, you think, but that ignorance led you to make it hard for people to protect you. Maybe, you realize, it was also an excuse to mess with Street because he was so close, and you didn’t know what else to do.

You aren’t sure how much time passes before the cabinet is pulled open slowly.

“Street?” you whisper.

“Close,” someone else says.

A man you recognize from a marketing meeting that did not go well steps inside, and a large, shiny gun at his side catches your attention. He smiles as you push yourself to your feet and scramble away from him.

“End of the road, fraude,” he coos.

Before he steps toward you, someone kicks him in the back, sending him crashing into your countertop as his gun clatters to the floor. Destin – whose name you didn’t remember until he said the name of the company he wanted you to promote, End of the Road – turns quickly. Street moves into the narrow space before he can do anything else. You see blood on Street’s cheek, and his knuckles are red. Now, you aren’t really worried about yourself.

“Stay down,” someone demands behind Street.

He stumbles away from Destin and toward you, as two SWAT officers pull Destin to his feet and out of your kitchen.

“Are you okay?” Street asks, breathing heavily.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper.

You gently cup Street’s face in your hands and tilt his jaw so you can see his face. A small cut beneath his eyebrow is likely the result of the gaudy ring Destin was wearing. Otherwise, Street seems fine.

“It’s okay,” Street replies softly, raising his hand to wrap around your wrist.

The house falls silent, and you’re so close to Street – closer than you have been. When you realize that you created space because you really wanted to close it, you don’t hesitate to kiss Street. He hums into the kiss, then moves his hands to your waist to pull you closer. Moving with him, you can’t imagine running away from him again.

“That didn’t feel like avoiding me,” Street points out as you step back.

“I’m really glad you’re not my bodyguard anymore,” you reply.

“Me too.”

“You were annoying,” you add. “In a cute way, I guess.”

“I prefer protective. And, just for that, I’m going to need an entire outfit – boots included – from your new Motorcross racing gear line.”

“You know what I market?” you ask, smiling.

“What we don’t know is why you were targeted,” Street says.

“I wouldn’t market his… manifesto? I don’t know what he wanted me to market, but his company, End of the Road, is 100% doing illegal business.”

“Oh, I’m aware.”

“Sorry I made your job so hard.”

Street looks down at your hands on his chest, then at his hands on your waist, then back up to your face. “It might’ve been worth it.”

“What can I do to make it up to you?” you ask, leaning closer to him.

Street pulls you close and kisses you again before saying something that sounds like: “This,” against your lips.

[anamelessfool]

I’m not new the the fandom or tumblr, but I’m just now getting into ghumblr, how do I make friends?

Hi! I like Tumblr. Here are some things.

Respect MDNI requests. Respect that. Minors get blocked on sight if they don't follow MDNI. If you're over 18, then disregard this.

Golden Rule: Treat others the way you want to be treated. You want anonymous asks? Send some anon/public asks when others do ask games. You want people to comment on your art? Comment on others' artwork, in tags, asks, and on AO3. Try a writing challenge! Two folks who I know have ghost-specific writing challenges are @cirrus-ghoulette and @comp-lady (@promptshoard specifically!) but if someone's reading this and has writing challenges please post them in the comments here. Post your own Headcanons, writing, artwork, doodles whatever they may be. Reblog Reblog Reblog. Interact and you'll be interacted with.

Tag appropriately. Kinks, ships, all that. I am all about 100% Freedom of Expression provided everything is tagged appropriately. Curate your own experience. Block tags you don't like, hang out in ones you do. It's very simple 🙂

In magick and in Tumblr, like begets like. You send out positivity, you will see positivity. If you send out negativity, that's all you will see.

A great place to start looking for amazing art and fics has to be @ghuleh-recs . Liss does an exceptional job organizing tags and curating a variety of work. Best of luck and welcome!

[average-mako-enjoyer]

Bigots and Failed Promises of Mass Effect games

(I had this thing in my drafts for almost a month, and it would have stayed there if not for the wonderful post by @androidtrashfire, because I saw it, and I was like: "Fuck it, I have to rant about these games." I love Mass Effect, and I really think we should critique it. We should criticize things we love because silence = compliance.)

So I was talking to @liss-art recently about the bigoted fans in the Mass Effect fandom, and I think I need to make a post about it because it's something that really, truly bothers me, and it needs to be addressed.

Canon

Mass Effect is a story about deeply flawed people with a lot of problems, and through them it touches on issues like xenophobia, sexism, corruption, elitism, morality, identity. That's why we like it, right? But why are there so many bigots in the fandom? My theory is that it happens because Mass Effect, for all its supposed complexity, only touches on these issues without giving any meaningful commentary on them.

Here are a few obvious examples:

The Quarians are a distasteful allegory of the Roma people (right down to their accents). They are persecuted and ostracized for creating Geth, but the game never gives us any socio-political reasons why the Quarians did that. They just developed real AI because they were naive and stupid? Or because they were the only ones smart enough to do it? Did they do it in secret? Why did other races not make the same mistake?

Same with the Batarians. Yes, the game mentions tensions between humans and Batarians because humans try to claim territories that Batarians think are theirs, but that's about it. Batarians are all racist slave traders and they're bad, don't think about it, here's some memes about 300,000 of them dying, good job. And yes, I know you can read more about their history in the Codex (why is it an Asari who writes about Batarian history,btw?), but it's basically the same thing as saying D*mbledore is gay (I really am sorry for this reference). If no one ever mentions this rich Batarian history, then it doesn't exist.

And please don't get me started on Hanar. They "mercifully" saved the Drell by inviting them to their planet, immediately assimilated them into their own faith and also put them in conditions where they have to train as assassins from the ripe old age of 6 and eventually die of sci-fi lung cancer. But don't worry about it, Drell actually love to serve the Hanar, they do it willingly and consider their servitude an honor. Do you really want to criticize some stupid jellyfish who talk funny? Do you really want to talk about why the so-called Council races do nothing about it? LOL

Another thing the trilogy does is present entire races, including humans, as amorphous blobs. Do all Asari believe in the same "goddess"? Do all Turians obey the same Primarch? Well, what's important is that all humans in this bright future speak English.

But what about the genophage? That's a profound story, right? Well, not really, and it raises more questions than it answers. We hear a lot about how brutal, aggressive, and short-tempered Krogans are, but every single Krogan we meet is extremely well-mannered, and they only resort to violence against other races in dire circumstances. So why not save them? Does the game really present you with this moral dilemma or not?

And can anyone tell me why Salarians are allowed to abduct and experiment on sentient beings, and why Turians are allowed to wage wars? Why does no one talk about Asari in this context?

I really want to say that at least the characters are well written, but I can't because they're not.

Kaidan is a good example of this. We are told about his implant, we are told that he has chronic pain, but do we see him suffer from it? Do we see him in those moments of weakness and vulnerability?

The scene where he gets annoyed with Jenkins acting like he's a circus monkey who has to do a trick and biotically throws a cup at him was cut from the game. We occasionally hear him mention some of the side effects of his migraines ("Too many lights, too much noise"), but that's about it. What has happened to "show, don't tell"? And no, I'm not saying that the writers should feed me the story or walk me through it. What I am saying is that if you gloss over your characters' mistakes, flaws, and circumstances, you're getting people to ignore them. Do people who call Kaidan "boring" and insult him think about how his chronic pain, his trauma from Brain Camp, and the loss of Jenkins and Ashley affect who he is? Hell no.

Thane is another great example. What Mass Effect is telling us as a story is that you can completely abandon your family and your child and be forgiven if your reason for doing it is good and heroic enough. Like avenging your dead wife, because of course there has to be a dead woman thrown somewhere.

Everyone's favorite Garrus (mine too) is a cop whose character arc basically consists of deciding that he is above the law (since the law forbids him from killing people he thinks should die) and then involving his squadmate/friend/partner (depending on your playthrough) in the public assassination of his former squadmate, whom he never even bothered to confront first. Are there any consequences for Garrus for his actions? No. Again, it's all glossed over, and that's unfortunate because it removes the conflict and therefore the character development and depth.

And if you're going to tell me that ME is just a space opera, and that I should just enjoy the spectacle and the romance, then I'm going to tell you that I know that, and that I think it's a wonderful spectacle, and that some of the romance subplots are absolutely amazing story-wise, but the superficial commentary (or lack thereof) on the most important issues that ME covers actually harms the audience.

Fandom

On the one hand, we have people making mods that remove all the clothes from all the female characters (or remove all of femShep's organs and replace them with giant tits). We have people reposting that horrible, horrible art of Miranda and Jack fighting, tearing each other's hair and clothes, and maleShep smirking and saying "I should stay". We have people who say ME2 is the best game in the series because "there are no f*gs". On the other hand, we have people saying things like "there are two Commander Shepards - female and the wrong one". We have people who say "only weird people play as dudebro in 2024". We have people who think that simply playing as a female character is some kind of feminist statement, and that it makes them better and smarter than everyone else (the same people who use the term "dude gamer" as an insult). And all of those things are kind of the trilogy's fault.

Both maleShep and femShep have the same story. The only differences are the romance options, sexist remarks directed only at femShep, and flirtations from various NPCs directed only at femShep. What this tells you is that sexism exists in the Mass Effect universe, and only women suffer from it. It also tells you that only women are worth flirting with.

Another thing this game does (and modern games like Cyberpunk do the same thing) is equate the female experience to the male experience by giving both femShep and maleShep the same lines.

So there are some mixed signals here. Sexism exists and doesn't exist in this universe, Shepard is both genderless and very gendered, romances with underdeveloped characters are all over the place, and bigots thrive in this kind of environment.

The lack of commentary, the lack of perspective, the disastrous worldbuilding allows you to freely choose your sexist, racist adventure and not be punished by the story in any way.

Mirrors

There's a passage from Solaris that I absolutely adore and think about often.

"We don't want to conquer the cosmos, we simply want to extend the boundaries of Earth to the frontiers of the cosmos. […] We have no need of other worlds. We need mirrors. We don't know what to do with other worlds. A single world, our own, suffices us; but we can't accept it for what it is."

I think that perfectly describes what Mass Effect is as a universe. And in a way, it's a reason why it's so compelling. It's just empty enough for us to invest in it, to fill in the blanks of that narrative with the stories of our own. And it's also a reason why this fandom is a fucking hellscape.

[mouthfullofd-essert]

(English is not my first language, actually, it's my third xd. Srry if I made mistakes. Hope reading this will feel like watching porn♡♡♡)

"Love, family... or whatever this is"

Just imagine Dean saying that to Sam while he is breathing heavily, his face is buried into Sam's neck. As Dean speaks, the air touches Sam's neck, just a little, and still Sam's skin burns from it. It burns so much, that he has to bury his face into Dean's hair because he feels like he's going to moan out loud, so loud he will end up sounding like a girl. He feels the need to thrust with his hips, so his dick touches his brother's hard thighs. Sam wears a v-necked t-shirt, so as Dean goes downward with his wet lips, wet kisses, he can slide his tounge in between Sam's pecs sucking his brother's soft skin that covers the hard muscles of Sam's chest. Sam is unable to do anything, he eagerly rubs his dick to Dean's body, he presses to his brother uncomfortably strong just to feel something down there. They still have their jeans on, and luckily those jeans that Sam wears hasn't got that strong, thick texture as other jeans. It's quite thin, he can feel Dean caressing his thigh, searching for something harder and wetter. After Dean touched Sam's dick, he presses his fingers under Sam's balls like the jeans weren't there anymore. The rough fabric touches Sam's hole. Dean spits on his fingers but as soon as he would return pressing the fabric into his brother, he stops half way then looks at Sam's face. His lips are parted. Dean slides his fingers that are soaked from his saliva into Sam's mouth. His long fingers are almost reaching Sam's throat, the little brother can't even breathe for a minute. Dean pushes his hand deeper, he tries to fit his fist into Sam's mouth. Dean finally takes out his fingers and places them on Sam's hole, still through the jeans. He presses them gently onto his hole and starts to circle, and Sam's jeans are all wet already.

"All the girls before you, they've all liked when I played with them like this. Do you enjoy it Sammy? To be treated like my girls? But don't you worry, you are not one of my favourite girls Sammy." Sam can feel aa his hole opens he can feel Deans fingers as he slides them inside his hole covered in the wet amd cold fabric. "You are my favourite boy Sammy, I promise, you will always be my favourite." Sam can not hear anymore, he didn't hear what Dean just said, his body did though. He can't control himself anymore and sits up entirely. He get on his knees and presses down his ass on Dean's fingers. He let's his body weight push him down. He bounces on them, he rides Dean's fingera as his brother keeps them still under Sam. "Yeah, ride my finger Sammy, you really need 'em, don't you? My God Sam, you turn me on so much, and it's not even fully inside you, do you know that? You're riding your fucking jeans Sammy."

"Dean please just press them deeper in me, as deep as you can, I don't even care if you rip my fucking jeans, just want to feel your fingers sliding in and out, want to hear the sloppy sound of it. Do you want it too Dean? Don't you want it so bad?" Sam knows what he has to say, he even lisses his brother's chest and licks his lips, sucks on his tongue and on his nipples to make sure Dean is fully seduced.

Dean grips Sam by his hips and positions Sam, so his brother's hole is in front of him. He takes off Sam's jeans, so he can finally see the wet, pink hole for the first time, he softly touches it with his cold hand, that make Sam shiver. Dean presses the tip of his fingers onto his brother's hole. "If you really want it that bad, if you want my fingers to be pushed deep into that little hole of yours, you gotta move your ass a little." Knowing what Dean means, Sam moves his ass backward, he slips on Dean's fingers and starts to move on them. "Just like that, fuck yourself on my fingers. Faster Sammy, faster. There you go, good boy. You better make yourself cum Sammy."

[tubborucho]

okay no i see why people are mad about this. one tiny plot twist and suddenly i get it

yeye i gotcha hehehehhe

[liss-art]

Hi! My name's Liss and I'm a fanarter as hell. Now in danmei, but also love Naruto, Detroit Become Human, Predator/Aliens, different AUs, nagas, mermaids and horns.

I draw a lot, I do a bit of merch, I illustrate fanfiction.

WELCOME you are LOVED here ^^ If you'd like to buy things I draw - read ➡️ HERE ⬅️ My tags are there ⤵️⤵️⤵️

[ghuleh-recs]

HAPPY STINKIN BIRTHDAY I HOPE IT’S THE BEST

THANKS CHEMS IT TOTALLY IS BECAUSE OF ALL THE LOVELY PEOPLE LIKE YOU MAKIN ME FEEL SO STINKIN SPECIAL 😭😭🫶🫶

[milfsloverblog]

Life Eternal (part 3)

Would you let me touch your soul forever?

Larissa x fem!reader

A/N: This part is still very much angsty, consider yourself warned!! The next chapter will be the last one, I haven’t decided yet if I will give these two a happy ending or not, I’ll write what feels right at that time. I recommend listening to Pictures of You by The Cure while reading this chapter. LISS, IF YOU ARE READING THIS, THANK YOU<3

warning: very brief mention of smut

The next morning you were up before the front desk even had a chance to call in your room.

I’m going back to Nevermore, getting in my car and leaving this hell hole.

You had been awful to her, horrible even and still she had been nothing but sweet in return. It was infuriating, couldn’t she push you away to make it easier for you to leave?

You entered Nevermore’s car park on your tiptoe, scared that any noise you’d make would alert Larissa of your presence. You were about to reach your car when you heard it, the familiar creaking noise of the big wooden doors being opened.

“Were you planning on leaving without saying goodbye? Again?” Larissa’s voice reached your ears and you took a deep breath before turning around to face her.

There she stood, wrapped in a silky night robe, her silver curls falling on her shoulders and her face bare. Her chest was heaving up and down and you could only guess that she had ran, hoping to catch you before you were gone.

“Larissa, I-“ You shook your head, trying to ignore the pang of yearning in your chest. You had never seen her like this before, without her tight updo and a face full of makeup, without her armour.

She moved aside, silently inviting you in, and your legs worked on their own accord as they followed her to her office.

“Did I wake you up?” You asked as she closed the door behind you.

“No,” Larissa sighed, “I barely slept. I was making myself a cup of coffee when I heard you in the car park. Working with teenagers you have to train your ears to catch the slightest noise, lest they sneak out incessantly.” She said before disappearing in the room adjacent to her office.

She reappeared a minute later, holding a mug which you immediately recognised to be the one you’d bought for her birthday on your fifth year at Nevermore. You thought it would be funny to buy her the kitschiest mug you could find, laughing to yourself as you picked one with a unicorn and pink flowers on it. And here she was, six years later, still using it to drink her morning coffee.

You need to tell her now, before she somehow manages to pull you in once more.

“Larissa, I will be leaving Jericho today.” You said, watching her place the mug down on her desk before she took a few steps closer to you.

“Will you be visiting again soon?” You could tell by the way her eyes searched for yours that she already knew the answer to that question. She was simply hoping to be wrong.

“I…I think we should stay apart, Larissa.” You managed to push out, your chest constricting and your mouth going dry.

There was a silence then. Hours seemed to go by before Larissa finally spoke again.

“Don’t you want us to be friends?!” Larissa asked, her eyes desperately searching for yours once again.

“No!” You let out a pained chuckle at her question, something Larissa took as you laughing to her face, as if she was silly to think that you would ever want to be her friend.

You wished you could explain, tell her that being friends would never be enough.

“But-“ The woman’s eyebrows knitted together, that surely felt like a stab to the heart for her. “After everything I did for you?” She whispered, her index finger poking at your chest making you take a step back, then another one, until your back was pressed against the wall. Her face was twisted with anger mixed with hurt, and you thought it was a shame to see such beautiful features marred by those emotions.

When was the last time you had seen her that angry?

“I love you, Larissa.”

“So do I! That’s why it pains me so much that you would decline my friendship offer!“ She shook her head in disbelief.

“You are not hearing me! I am in love with you! I have been for years!” Oh no. No, no, no. You instantly wanted to take the words back.

You felt the tall woman physically recoil from you as soon as your confession was out of your mouth. There it was, the disgust you were expecting.

“That’s what I thought.” You whispered bitterly.

For once in her life, Larissa felt at a loss for words. She couldn’t understand how she had never seen the signs, because now that she knew, it all suddenly seemed so obvious.

It wasn’t right. You used to be her student and she was your principal. It wasn’t right, it went against everything she believed in, it was unethical. She knew it wasn’t right so why was she craving to embrace you?

“Larissa, look at me.” You took a step closer and looked up into the older woman’s eyes, your hand gently cupping her cheek.

You shouldn’t use your powers on someone who didn’t consent to it, but what other choice did you have now?

Larissa felt entranced by your gaze, unable to move or look away even when she felt the memories of you starting to slip from her mind.

“Please…” The woman was able to mutter, her heart beating loudly in her chest when your face started looking more and more like that of a stranger. You could feel her mind fighting back, trying its best to push you out before you could erase every single bit of yourself from her memory.

“It’s for the best.” You reassured her, your thumb brushing away the single tear that rolled from her eye.

I’m so, so sorry, Larissa. But if you don’t forget about me, if you keep reaching out, how could I ever forget you?

“Just a few more seconds.” You whispered and watched her gaze slowly turning blank until she looked at you like one would look at a stranger in the street.

“You will fall unconscious in a moment, don’t fight it.” You explained. People always fainted after getting some of their memories erased, it was draining for both the mind and the body.

Just like you were expecting, Larissa’s knees wobbled and you barely had time to wrap your arms around her waist to catch her from falling to the floor.

Managing to lie her down on the sofa, you made sure she wasn’t in an uncomfortable position that would have her body aching when she would wake up.

You knelt by her side and carefully tucked a silver lock behind her ear.

“In another world, we sit across from each other at the kitchen table and go over the grocery list.” You whispered, your thumb brushing her cheek. “You would keep my picture in your wallet and I’d keep yours in a locket around my neck. But not in this life. In the next one maybe, if we are lucky.”

Your heart ached as you pulled yourself away from Larissa, taking in her unconscious form one last time. She would be fine. And you would too. You were strong enough to remember for both of you.

You felt like you were going to be sick when you walked to the door, your hand tightly gripping the doorknob hoping it would keep you grounded. You didn’t look back as you walked out, no matter how much you wanted to. You knew that if you threw another glance at Larissa’s face, you’d never be able to let go. So you didn’t look back.

You weren’t sure when you had started crying, but by the time you had reached your car, hot tears were running down your cheeks. And it didn’t help when you turned on the engine and The Cure started loudly playing from your radio.

There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more

Than to feel you deep in my heart

There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more

Than to never feel the breaking apart

My pictures of you

You couldn't hold back the anguished scream that came out of you, your palms hitting the steering wheel a couple of times before you eventually burst into loud sobs.

You were strong enough to remember for both of you.

You stayed there for a moment, forehead pressed against the wheel and chest heaving as you slowly calmed down.

You would be alright. You just needed to let it all out, just once. You would be alright now.

Leaving home, you thought as you drove away, unsure if you meant the school itself or the woman lying unconscious on her sofa.

You would make sure to give Enid a call later and ask her if she could check in on Larissa. But for now, you needed to leave, and so you did.

—

You hid your face in the neck of the woman in your arms, your fingers buried to the hilt inside her. You didn’t remember her name. You weren’t even sure you had asked before you two had dragged each other to the bathroom.

Your heart squeezed in your chest when the woman clenched around you as she climaxed, but it wasn’t due to pride. It was a pang of yearning, of longing even, one that hadn’t left in the year that had passed since you had left Jericho again, no matter how many women you had seduced.

“Don’t you want me to return the favour?” The woman asked when you pulled away and moved to the sink to wash your hands.

You looked at her in the mirror. Tall, blonde, and yet nothing like the woman your heart was still aching for.

“No, no that won’t be necessary. But thanks for offering, I appreciate it. You’re beautiful, by the way.” You pushed a smile and gave an awkward nod before getting out of the bathroom.

You walked back to your stool at the bar and let out a sigh, rubbing your hands over your face. You needed to stop coming here hoping to find someone that would fill the gaping hole in your chest.

Sure you had tried dating. Audrey had been a lovely partner, but you had to call it off after a couple of months. It wasn’t fair to let her fall for you while you were still mourning something that had never even happened.

You were strong enough to remember for both of you.

Yeah, well, it was mortifying to be the one who remembered.

The sound of a glass being placed in front of you made you look up, silently questioning the bartender.

“I didn’t order anything?”

“I know,” the man flashed you a wide grin, and gestured towards the end of the bar with his chin. “The lady over there did.”

You turned to face the lady in question, half expecting it to be the woman you had just left in the toilet. Your breath hitched when your eyes fell into sapphire ones, your heart skipping a couple of beats.

You must have been cursed in a past life. Fate and inevitability were laughing right into your face. There was nothing else that would explain why Larissa Weems had found her way back into your life again.

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