#literally fuck me fuck my life fuck this job market

[mikecardenmpreg]

do i actually need to talk to my therapist or would getting callbacks about the multiple jobs ive applied for fix me

[applejongho]

:/

[gobbluthbutagirl]

crazy how if you google “how many job applications per week” (which you probably shouldn’t google anyway) you get one result saying doing 2-3 a day is good, one result saying doing 5-10 a day is good, and one result saying doing 11-20 a day is good. So basically, do whatever the hell you want forever

[sleevebuscemii]

like this post if you think joseph from the kia service station at [redacted] blvd in [redacted] should kill himself.

[garlique]

god oh my god this sucks so fucking much, i knew today would be the worst day so far but holy fucking shit i truly just wish i was fucking dead!!

[shouty-mcnubbs]

can someone PLEASE explain to me how life keeps happening to me in the wildest possible ways and yet i just sit here....... i didnt do any work to get to the place i am and somehow life happens. ... ........

[xjulixred45x]

I could't contain myself guys sorry--

Bro, do you realize how scary it would be to have Vox as a Yandere?

just imagine it. You could be one of his workers, maybe too good at your job, because not only do you do what Vox tells you without asking questions, but you also know what to say and what not to say to avoid a "tantrum" from him. or rather, when his insecurities attack with force like when Alastor returns.

Vox would probably be a somewhat condescending yandere (as seen with Val) but don't think you can't turn tables easily, if you stroke his ego enough, you can have him around your finger. but that doesn't make it any less dangerous for those around you.

He makes the typical 180 degree turn in attitude when it comes to Other Employees and when it comes to You. Damn, you may be the only one of his employees who gets paid vacations (or even vacations) or even birthday bonuses, things like that. He likes to give you his things or products with the excuse that "they are for testing" even if they have already been released on the market.

Like:

Vox: who the fuck eat My leftovers!?! WHENEVER WHO WAS I'M GOING TO-

Darling: it was me sir.

Vox:--give You the rest and take You out for lunch, You haven't eaten in the whole day AGAIN, didn't ya?

He definitely avoids conflict with you by hypnotizing you, when he starts to feel hostility, fear on your part or that you want to leave, he makes you "out of nowhere" have "ONE MORE TASK" and you can't help but do what he says.

and IT IS NOT just to avoid fights or for you to leave, it is something CONSTANT (once every two days MINIMUM), although Vox is not worried about your brain turning into mush due to its powers, it always keeps nutritious things in your diet and they come out relatively often , as you have to follow him everywhere.

Eventually he becomes more clingy and needy in this case, it's practically not that he's proposing to you or anything, he's just slowly dragging you into a relationship without you realizing it (because you're not lucid enough). Unless you develop a higher level of tolerance to his hypotonic trick, I don't think you'll notice his Red Flags.

I think it would be ESPECIALLY BAD if Darling is also a Sinner, because then they wouldn't even be able to get out of the pride ring to run away from Vox. leaving you with many fewer options and having to avoid all of Vox's technology, which you could only achieve by 1- going to the Cannibal Legion or 2- going to the Hazbin Hotel.

Running away is EXTREMELY DIFFICULT, not only because of his hypnotic trick, but because he literally has EYES EVERYWHERE, on every screen in hell. If you somehow manage to get away with it and run away, Vox would be SO ANGRY and looking for you all over hell with their screens.

Although definitely if you were gone more than a day, he would be more distraught than angry and would begin to despair. Even Val and Velvet would give him a hand because of how bad it would be.

Just imagine, thinking that you finally lost sight of Vox's search drones, without realizing that you stand in front of some store and VOX ITSELF appears on the screens :)

If you made the stupid decision to go to the Hazbin Hotel, Vox would be distraught and would even think that Alastor was somehow holding you hostage, obviously! Why would you go there if you knew his biggest enemy was there? Alastor must be using you as a bargaining chip! How dare he!?

(in this case, fortunately, the punishment is much less severe, but he would definitely monitor you for the rest of your life)

When he eventually gets you back (after a few days or even WEEKS of anguish) expect, first of all, to be in a mortal embrace that lasts AT LEAST 2 days and then receive your "punishment" which would be to be under hypnosis for AT LEAST 1 YEAR to be sure that this NEVER HAPPENS AGAIN.

Although calm down! He gives your mind breaks periodically because 1- he doesn't know if that would ultimate mess with your head and 2- it's nice to hear YOU talk instead of the robotic version.

When that year FINALLY ends, you will be a much more obedient, more terrified, sweeter version of You, according to Vox, like a frightened Deer. It was a long and hard process, but the good thing is that you don't have to do anything anymore! absolutely! Just do what he tells you and everything will be fine.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Not one of the Best yanderes to have, but Def not the worst

[daddyygh0stface]

Hi yes I'm alive sorry for not being around. I kinda lost my job and haven't really figured out what I am doing to do or how I'm going to pay for bills or what the fuck is going to happen But yeah I am here and alive unfortunately. I probably won't answer ask or dms for a while don't really feel the greatest right now and sure as hell don't feel like talking to anyone right now.

Rant time i guess? Getting a job in our current market is hell everything I've applied to just never gets back to me. Its funny because growing up I always told you need college to get a job or be able to do anything in life, man I have friends literally went to some of best colleges and still can't even get job. It just feels like I'm constantly being lied to about everything. Weird how I'll forever be told people like me just don't wanna work yeah man I don't wanna be able to live comfortable pay my bills and be homeless. Let's also not forget the fact jobs will require you have a set amount of experience in a certain area but no job will hire you for that field without experience HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO GET EXPERIENCE THEN DUDE? Then a week before all of the job thing family member sits us all day and tells us they have cancer. This fucking disease has taken so many family members from me. I lost my grandma what will be a year ago in January I was starting to just come to terms with everything and feel somewhat okay. I will never truly get over her death but I feel like that is normal. I've had so many family members taken from me just from cancer alone this stuff runs in my family I believe and coming to that realization fucking sucks because I just want to help them, but there isn't anything I can do. I truly don't know what to do or what to think anymore.

Writing this really late into the morning and i'm going to schedule the post sometime not sure when

[elsecrytt]

okay NEW curse technique concept: love conquers all!

your technique straight up alters reality. it will heal you or others, kill or harm people in any specific way, you can travel quickly, produce objects/food/etc. out of nowhere, whatever you want.

however. you can only do it if you genuinely believe it will make your loved one happy. otherwise you are just a regular person.

if you're not in love with someone, you're an ordinary person.

thankfully (?) you're a bleeding heart romantic and you fall in love pretty often! you might be shallow at first but your desire to pursue a relationship and get to know your crush is 100% sincere!

for added comic effect, you do not know what curses are and are unaware of your cursed technique. you just know that you're super capable whenever you're doing it ~for love~

unfortunately, when you fell in love with satoru gojo, he pretty much immediately shot you down.

commitment issues, sorcerer problems, yada yada. he could tell that you were genuine with your feelings, too, and satoru does do hookups but he's not a total asshole.

satoru being LITERALLY the luckiest person ever - six eyes, limitless, ridiculously tall and beautiful, talented students and powerful allies - and he's handed an instant win ticket to life in the form of your undying love and devotion and he just tosses it out LMAOOO.

so you go through your heartbreak phase, grieve for a while, and of course eventually get back on the market.

and you find him! the kindest, most considerate, respectful man alive.

he's a bit of a workaholic, but he's unbelievably polite and sincere, and every bit of understanding you show him is repaid tenfold.

seriously. he was late for a date once because of work, texting ahead twenty minutes and apologizing profusely, showing up with flowers and a thousand "I'm so sorry, my superior at work was a bit unreasonable - he works hard, too, though. I'll plan better in advance!"

when you smile and hug him and accept his apologies easily, you can see him holding back tears, a giant load releases his shoulders.

the more you learn about his work, though, the more you realize it's his only flaw. it's not even his fault!

his superior is just this giant asshole. "he works very hard, he's excellent at his job" your fucking ASS, why should your man have to put in constant overtime to drive his ass around?

apparently he had to drive three hours to pick up some sweets. kikufuku, of all things, from this one specialty store in another prefecture, just for his stupid coworker -

it pisses you off!

so when ichiji arrives for your date one day, nervous, with his unreasonable coworker in tow - well, you're shocked to see that you recognize him.

satoru, of course, immediately gloats that he recognizes ichiji's precious girlfriend - she even asked him out, once, before!

internally, he supposes it's kind of nice that you found someone better suited for commitment. although ichiji really doesn't deserve someone as good-looking as you -

SLAP!

he stares, dumbfounded, his cheek red and stinging. something strange curling in his chest at your vicious glare.

"You're Ichiji's shitty coworker?" You growl, "I'm glad you turned me down. Don't ever bully my man again, or you're dead meat."

holy shit, satoru thinks to himself as you snarl at him, ichiji panicking, trying to hold you back.

dead meat. holy shit, he actually believes you.

-

obviously from there the plan would be enemies to lovers, with the requisite comedy and pining on gojo's part about having let you go the first time.

you have a very strict policy of never EVER pursuing someone who turns you down (you don't know this, but it's actually a condition of your cursed technique). but satoru will find out - that doesn't stop him from pursuing you.

unfortunately, you're also unbelievably prideful, and still very in love with ichiji (who himself is struggling with a sense of inferiority which will eventually tank your relationship).

so gojo gets his ass beat on multiple occasions,,, watching in awe as you do thinks even he can't, and doubly flabbergasted when you insist you're not doing anything particularly weird.

you punch through his infinity? "are you telling me you think you're a wizard with an invisible force field around yourself? seriously?" cursed spirits? "is this a cult?? ichiji is your coworker in a CULT?" his hollow purple doesn't leave a scratch "i mean, was it supposed to?"

god i'm just feeling the comedy these days. i need to make fun of these silly little guys in this silly little manga, i love them so much

[lenreli]

The Red Line

[AO3]

E, 6.3k. Hob gets a new life - and a new job. Dream begins to appreciate it, in his own way.

-

Dream steps into the Waking, more following Hob’s presence on the Earth, steadfast for centuries ― and looks around, Canadian wilderness reaching his senses. Hob did say, last time they met, that he’s overdue faking his death. 

Blinking, he knocks on the door in front of him, once. He knows Hob’s not asleep, and still Dream worries if he’s intruding, even with the way Hob had said― 

“My friend!” Hob beams, the door opened while Dream was pondering, “come in, come in!” Hob says brightly, gesturing him in with an arm. “This’ll be the first time I’ve seen you outside of jolly ol’ Landon, actually,” Hob says, excitement all but palpable as Dream looks around at the small house, Hob talking more about other places he’s lived in. Hob’s swearing a knitted sweater and jeans, matching the rustic insides of his new home. 

And Hob talks about ― friends he misses, moving to Canada, and so on. With no mention of his job, which Hob is usually happy to tell him about. “And what of your job?” At that, Hob pauses, “or have you decided to not get one this time?”

“No, still many things I want to do,” Hob says, voice suddenly quieter, and Dream frowns, unused to the other’s almost―evasiveness. 

Dream gives Hob a narrow look, suspicious. “Do you have an abhorrent trade, like in 178―”

“No! Never again! Definitely not!” Hob shouts, arms in the air as he shakes his head, eventually sinking into his blue sofa with a sigh. “No, not. It’s just. I don’t know. We’re not the friends to talk about this, and I don’t know how you’d react, so I haven’t,” Hob mumbles. 

Dream keeps silent as Hob pulls at the edge of his sweater, and eventually Hob heaves a sigh. 

“Fine. I’ll bite the bullet. I’m a sexline operator,” Hob says and Dream blinks, unsure what the problem with speaking about is, as he searches the subconscious for Hob’s new job. “I dunno, we’ve never talked about that before, and the prudishness of this century probably got to me a bit. I talk people into giving themselves orgasms, and it’s fun,” Hob mutters, shrugging as he explains. 

“I fail to see the problem.”

Hob laughs and rubs his face, “of course. Just ― weird human customs. My new job is usually more of a raunchy punchline or scandalous, terrible thing for some people.” 

“It’s not the worst job you’ve had,” he points out, and Hob laughs again, a bit more manic. 

“That bar’s in the Earth’s core, Dream,” Hob says, face hidden by a hand. “The literal fucking burning lava core,” Hob grouses, and Dream follows Hob into a small kitchen, windows letting light in as Hob puts on an electric kettle, leaning against the kitchen counters. “It’s been a thing, getting used to living here, and my new job, which is a more night-shift job than I was used to with teaching. At least seeing you again is helping with all that.” 

Dream swallows, emotions sticking in his body at the way Hob’s smiling at him, that he’s helped Hob. “I am here to help.” 

Hob laughs again, shaking his head as he gets a mug and a teabag. “Not just as your entire thing, but you, as my friend,” Hob clarifies. “Didn’t even realise how weird I was getting in my head until you popped in.” 

“You are the most normal man alive,” he replies dryly as the kettle whistles, and Dream smothers the smile he can feel as Hob laughs once more. 

=

Dream ― hasn’t been curious, knows what it requires, on a sexline. A discreet orgasm, or a filthy one, operators being given prompts, or not, until the one who pays is satisfied. 

However, he’d like to know, Hob on a sexline is a different thing, one he can’t help thinking about idly. And so, slipping into the Waking, into Hob’s new house, which is ― quiet. Soundlessly, he walks around until he reaches a closed door. The study, Hob showed him, and Hob behind the doors, imagining waking up early to go to the market. 

And Hob is speaking, words muffled by the door, so he leans closer, ear to the door ― and Hob may be thinking about market produce, meeting vendors, but the words are filthy, talking to someone. 

A woman, matching that voice to―strong hands, pressing inside herself, all the right spots as he moans, Hob’s speech rolling over her in waves of pleasure as she imagines. 

The door is cold against his body, but Dream’s only half-there as he makes the man’s hands coarser, marks and scars of Hob’s hands, hairier as she gasps. Closing his eyes, Dream smoothes out the man in her imagination ― green eyes changed to brown, grey at his temples, stubble and body hair, as the man ― Hob ― speaks to her to come, coaxing her along softly. 

Suddenly, the lack of imagination, daydream having served its purpose leaving him against the cold door, body hot as he listens to Hob laughing, him and the woman talking. And Dream wants to―phase through the door, has a hand on it, melt through the flimsy wood to reach Hob, body aching in arousal. 

Pressing his cheek to the refreshingly cold wood, he stops as the call ends and there’s a sigh. There’s shuffling around, and soon footsteps, a shadow moving to the door and Dream moves away with a soundless step as Hob starts to open it.

Hands twitching, he steps back again before going back to the Dreaming.

-

It happens again. Dream in front of the study, door shut as Hob speaks into the phone on the other side. He can’t even muster up any internal protests, that he was sure that Hob would be free, and not like some part of Dreaming wasn’t dedicated to keeping an eye on the time, on when Hob wouldn’t be working or sleeping. 

The door is cool as he touches it, pressing his ear against the door as Hob’s voice washes over him ― and in another province, a man is hearing the same voice. 

This time, Hob is vaguely thinking of pale skin and dark hair― 

Dream moves his focus to the other man, insides hot as the man fingers himself, Hob’s voice making him whine as he has vague images in his mind, nothing concrete and more focused on Hob’s voice. 

And he can’t help it, tweaks the vague image into Hob’s visage and the man whimpers as he imagines Hob going inside, and Dream shivers, can feel it in the imaginings of it. The man comes with a cry and Dream stares at the wood of the door, can feel it under his nails with how hard he’s grabbing it, body pulsing in arousal but unable to end it, just out of reach. 

Dream takes an unneeded breath as he thinks of melting through the door, where Hob is now laughing with the man, wanting to, wanting to feel more than illusory touch, can go insane with wanting the reality of it― 

No. he forces himself back, can only see the trail of ruin that’d leave Hob hating him, as he steps back into the Dreaming.

-

“Uh, boss,” Matthew says and Dream looks up from his census, then pauses, taking a moment before he stands up from the steps. Hovering in front of him, a large bubble, the transparency of it showing a red phone box, glass-panelled windows and a phone ringing.

Reaching out, he relaxes, can feel Hob’s ― daydream, behind it. “It is my friend,” he says softly, smiling as he walks into the bubble, and he pauses as he’s encased in warmth. Matthew and the throne room melt away as he opens the box, phone ringing still as he closes it. Reaching out, the phone stops as he picks it up, putting it to his ear. “Hob?”

“Woah,” on the other side of the line, Hob breathes, voice crackling as Dream presses the phone more against his ear. “Wasn’t sure that’d work. That’s really you?” Hob asks, voice getting slowly more excited. 

“It is. Matthew alerted me to ― you,” he frowns, the daydream brightening in vibrancy with Hob’s excitement, a joyful sound coming from the other side of the phone. 

“I dunno, I’ve been using phones so much lately with work, and so I thought what if. Well. This,” Hob says, voice crackling over the line and Dream smiles, happy to hear from him ― and reminding him guiltily, of why he hasn’t visited lately, “and like, I’m getting new friends here of course, and getting used to it all, and I just hope you’re not too busy with, uh. All that you do.” 

Dream sighs, resting against the glass behind him, “I am sorry, I―”

“No, it's fine! I get it, you’re a busy, hard-working entity and before we only met every century! Even with us being friends and everything―”

“Hob,” he cuts in, smiling as Hob stops, “I am glad you called,” he says, and Hob lets out a sigh, can feel the warmth of Hob’s home, his presence of the daydream around him, a balm for his tired self. 

“Didn’t even call for anything important. Just that I found a place that sells the best poutine I’ve ever tasted. Have you had poutine?” Hob asks and Dream can’t stop his smile, bright emotions fizzling inside him at the inane question. 

“I have not,” he answers. 

“It’s really good,” Hob says, words trailing into a groan, making Dream feel slight heat at the sound caused by the memory of good food,  “one time when you’re here we’re going to get poutine. Also, the moose here are insane. Recently I saw one as big as a car and it was so beautiful. And terrifying. Was just walking down the road! This is why I love moving all the time!” 

Dream looks down, fingers curling around the red curled line of the phone as he listens to Hob talk.

-

Somehow, Hob’s house always feels so welcoming, the immortal somehow infusing his home in the short time he’s lived there, compared to The New Inn, as well as the flat he had nearby in London. As Dream sits on the sofa, he can feel himself unwinding as Hob gets a cup of tea, the book he was reading left flat on the coffee table, revealing the summary and Dream hums at the sci-fi. “Aren’t you usually doing something at this time?” 

Hob lets out a sound, partly indecisive and partly thoughtful, “I do plan on going to a music festival tomorrow, so I’m getting things ready since I’ll be out all day,” Hob offers as the kettle whistles, and Dream blinks as Hob comes back over, sitting next to him and getting a coaster on the table to put his cup on. “Planning to go with some friend’s, so it’s just like. Water, and money, especially for merch and food,” he shrugs. 

“What type of music?” 

“Metal festival! Speaking of, I need to figure out my―wait, you can help me decide!” Hob says, getting up and rushing to his room, and Dream smiles, staring at the cooling mug on the table. 

“Your tea is cooling,” he points out as Hob moves around in his room, eventually coming out with a pile of clothes in an arm, as he pointedly stares at him before drinking half the mug. Hob’s throat working is ― mesmerizing, and Dream can’t make himself look away as he has half-thoughts of touching the other’s beard. 

“Okay!” Hob says and Dream doesn’t twitch, mind still stuck on the edge of the other’s stubble on his throat to notice that he’s moved back, holding up a mesh shirt and ripped jeans in one hand, “so, this?” Hob tugs out his other clothes, revealing a dark blue shirt and a different pair of trousers, black with studs and chains, “or this?” 

Dream tilts his head, thinking about the choices, “the first one.” 

Hob beams, nodding as he puts the clothes back into his room. “See, that’s what I was thinking too. Plus one of my leather jackets, since it’ll be cold, but also I will be in the moshpit, but eh,” Hob mumbles, voice lowering in frequency as he comes back out, sitting near him as he drinks the rest of his tea. “I’m so excited!”

“I can tell,” he replies dryly, and Hob’s brightness doesn’t even dim as he picks up his book, practically vibrating next to him. 

-

He does try to come after the festival. 

He doesn’t try hard enough as he stares at the closed door, can hear Hob’s low voice, muffled but getting clearer as he presses against the door. “And I would,” Hob pauses, and Dream tenses in anticipation ― and on the other end of the line, a man lets out a small whine, close to the edge from Hob’s voice. “Eventually, I’d let you come.” 

The man whines and Dream shivers, can almost feel the firmness of Hob’s voice in his body as he takes an unneeded breath. 

“The anticipation of it, it’d be worth it, don’t you think?” Hob asks, and the man agrees blindly. Dream swallows, body flooded with arousal. “I’d take you to the edge, again and again, until your mind is nothing but me, the way you’d beg for it,” Hob continues, voice dropping even lower as the man cries out ― and Hob thinks of pale skin, daydreams of― 

Dream forces himself out of it, would be sure that his face would be a fierce red if ― the wood doing nothing to cool him down as he presses into it, a hand lightly gripping the wood. There’s the taste of it on his tongue, like he can replace it with Hob’s confident words, the ease he can feel from the other side of the door. 

“Please,” the man begs, sobbing in a way that Dream can feel, wants to be the one crying it out. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get what you want. You’re touching yourself for me, aren’t you?” Hob breathes and the man lets out a cry and blurbled yes. “Just relax into it, into my voice,” Hob soothes and Dream shudders, a hand reaching into his robe as he soundlessly pants against the door. “Follow the flow, you don’t want to resist.” 

The man keens, mindless and full of Hob’s voice ― like Dream. Who wants to reach through the door and hang Hob up, wants those low tones focused on him, as he strokes himself, can feel how close to the edge he is― 

―Of making a mess of Hob’s door, and the thought is cold water as he pulls himself away, taking his hand off himself as he forces himself back to the Dreaming.

-

Dream doesn’t keep a solid track of time, but even he knows that this is a bad day. Pinched annoyance at himself for not visiting Hob, basking in the comforts of his home ― and not when he’s working, and so just sticks to the Dreaming. 

And today, an envoy of planets and galaxies, relatively small, which is the only good thing over all the fake politeness and the exhausting politicking. 

The bubble appearing to life in the room is the icing on the cake, Hob’s daydream-call as the celestial bodies look over at the phone box with worry. “It is nothing,” he grounds out, and feels even more exhausted as he pops the bubble, crunching it into nothing.

After, he promises himself as he forces the conversation back on track, and Dream feels vaguely like screaming.

-

It’s days before he shows up at Hob’s ― reasonably sure that Hob’s not working as he knocks on the front door. Dream feels tense, every non-existent bone in his body clenched as he waits, and as he thinks that Hob’s gone out, the door opens. “Dream!” Hob smiles and ushers him in, and it feels like his teeth grind less as he enters the other’s home. 

“I apologise. For not taking your call,” he recites stiffly as he sits, and Hob freezes, then smiles, sitting next to him, warmth radiating off of him in a way that makes Dream want to curl into him. 

“Felt a bit weird when that happened, but you are a busy entity. Nothing to apologise for, of course,” Hob beams, and Dream swallows the sound as the smile dims, expression becoming concerned. “Your hair,” Dream blinks―and wonders when his hair became long, it feels like ― stress, the weight of the envoy, of his actions last time he was here. “You seem a bit,” Hob bites his lip, “tense.” 

“I am fine,” he replies, and Hob gives him a skeptical glance. 

“Dream,” Hob says softly, a hand coming up to hover over the ends of his hair, “may I?” Blinking, he looks at Hob’s earnest expression, “I want to help. I’ve heard I give a pretty good head rub.” Dream blinks once more, then nods stiffly, and he watches as Hob moves around ― lighting candles that smell of lavender and getting some food before sitting back next to him, turning on the TV as he does. “Any preferences?” Hob nods to the TV, and Dream shakes his head. 

Dream tenses as Hob’s hands move slowly, making their way to his head―and Dream lets out a sound as a fingers stroke and dig into his scalp. The other hand joins in and Dream can’t help but cry out in relief, the touches unlocking some tight part of him as he can only manage to plant his face on Hob’s thigh, who doesn’t object, hands stroking and petting, massaging his scalp and hair. 

“You’re perfectly fine, just relax,” Hob whispers and he shivers, can feel the stress and tension melting away from him as he goes boneless on the sofa, breathing in the musk of Hob underneath him. Every pass and press of Hob’s fingers, nails into him releases even more tension, and he― 

Unfurls, the black mass of his body, tentacles flopping onto the floor, the machine creak of a black metal tail, as well as various other appendages, can feel them stretching out onto the carpet. Hob makes a sound but doesn’t comment, only taking a hand away and Dream looks up, seeing Hob eat some of his biscuits before Dream shuts his eye. 

“I’d rather not get another record player,” Hob says, and Dream doesn’t get why he says it until he opens his eyes, a feathered limb knocking said record player, and Dream makes a sound, softly moving his limbs around the coffee table, tentacles and a limb of black teeth curling around it until they circle to Hob’s feet. “Much appreciated.” 

And even with the stress lifting, his hair seems to grow, can feel it falling over the sofa as Hob doesn’t stop, seemingly happy to massage his scalp, other hand stroking his hair. 

-

Dream opens his eyes with a jolt, confused as he looks around, mind lagging from― 

The sleep. He had. He can’t remember the last time he slept. It was probably while the Earth was still a mass of dust and rocks, still to be pulled together. 

And now, one of Hob’s hands is still in his hair, touching it softly, the other arm touching his chest as he blinks. Can feel Hob in the Dreaming, can feel the night sky above him, the TV still playing softly as he huffs, relaxing back into the hold, putting his face into Hob’s hip. 

The hand in his hair pets him, fingers stroking through the long strands in some automatic motion, Hob still dreaming even as the fingers continue their movement. 

Dream allows himself more of it, hoarding the feeling of having Hob’s body so close, hands in his hair, then he sits up, Hob’s body heat still sticking to him as he turns the TV off. Hob only groans as Dream picks him up, carrying him bridal style to the other’s room, and Dream smiles, patting Hob’s hair as he puts the immortal under the covers. 

“Thank you,” he says softly, stroking the grey of Hob’s temple, making sure Hob’s dreams will be full of the feelings he gave Dream, the warmth and calm. “I feel much better now, my friend.” 

-

“I’m not boring you, am I?” Hob asks, voice cutting out over the phone line, and Dream hums, relishing in the familiar comfort of Hob’s presence inside the daydream, phone to his ear. 

“Of course not,” he says, making Hob do a skeptical noise. 

“Feel like I’m boring myself with this line of thought. Instead ― I always imagine you with a smartphone when we’re like this,” Hob says, and Dream blinks. 

“It is not a smartphone for me,” he replies, “it’s a phone box.”

“Like in Doctor Who?” Hob asks, voice curious, daydream brightening with the emotion. 

“No, a red one,” he clarifies, and huffs as he reaches out to the connection between them, “I will show you.”

Dream knows when Hob can see it ― can see him, can feel the invisible eyes on him as Hob lets out a breath. “Oh. Hello,” Hob speaks softly, and Dream gives him a small smile. “Cosy. I like it.” 

“It―“ feels like you, the bone-deep comfort, Dream doesn’t say, lulled into the sense of it, “it is beyond adequate for when we converse.” 

He gets the feeling that Hob blinks as he takes a moment, “I’m glad for that, then. Beyond adequate is one of my favourite descriptors about me,” Hob says teasingly. “Don’t think I would’ve done the black glass though.”

Dream looks at the sides, surprised to see the clear glass replaced with black glass, opaque and matte. “I didn’t realise,” he frowns, not touching on why he’d want to change the glass, what feels like the part of him still in that cursed basement. 

“How about stained glass, then? That’d be nice,” Hob offers, “just an idea.” Dream stares at the glass, the squares changing to varying hues, mixed in with the black glass. “Beautiful.”

-

Dream stares at the door, at the quiet behind it ― which soon changes as Hob gets a call, and Dream comes closer, pressing an ear to the door. Hob talks to the person ― his higher-up, most likely. The conversation is loud, Hob joking and laughing as he says that sure, I can do another.

The person greets Hob nervously once they’re connected, but Hob easily makes them feel at ease, and Dream feels a pang of envy for those who interact with Hob throughout the days, wanting to keep it all to himself, but knowing he can’t. 

And it’s not like he thought of Hob doing his job in detail, but as Hob gently coaxes out a fantasy, light-hearted and soft, Dream can feel the words prickle under his skin. A part of him thought that Hob would ― list out fantasies, easy to pick and choose from a menu.

His hands ball on the door, unwilling to move as Hob talks, as the person’s imagination sparks, and Dream holds himself back from changing the figment of imagination meant to represent Hob, keeping still. 

Hob’s words, practised and filthy, wash over him as he considers what Hob would coax out of him, can’t even fathom it as the person whines, getting louder in their cries, and Dream presses his forehead to the door, can’t even fathom the thought of Hob doing that to him. 

But still, he wants it, can taste it as the person comes, Hob gently coaxing them on, and Dream vanishes back to the Dreaming before he’s aware, mind sticky with thoughts.

-

Hob isn’t saying something, Dream can feel it in the way the daydream of the phone box twists and pulses. “Feeling an urge to go back to England ― not permanently at this point. More of a holiday, but I’ve been over there too long, so,” Hob grumbles, then sighs. There’s a pause, and Dream waits for Hob to speak.

“Hob?” He asks, straightening up on the glass panel, can feel Hob’s gaze on him. 

“Do you know,” Hob says quietly, the words careful and measured, “you have a presence?” 

“A presence?” He echoes, brows furrowing, and there’s another pause, can feel Hob putting the words together carefully. 

Hob hums, and Dream gets the impression of nervousness, “when you come here. To the Waking. Never noticed it much when we were at the White Horse, probably because of all the people and alcohol, but since we’ve met up outside that, I’ve noticed it. There’s a certain ― change to the gravity, to the air around you, when you’re here,” another pause, another drawn out sigh. More silence. “You’ve been listening to me. While I work,” Hob states, and Dream freezes. “Can feel you, on the other side of that door.” 

Dream swallows, thoughts screeching to a halt, too thrown off to even comprehend saying anything. 

“Why? Eldritch curiosity?” Hob asks, and Dream shuts his eyes, grabbing the out offered with both hands. 

“Yes,” he says, voice scratchy, “I am sorry for. Overstepping.” 

There’s a tiny laugh on the other end of the line, “I don’t care. How am I? Any critiques?” Hob asks, voice lightly teasing, and Dream takes an unneeded breath as he relaxes against the glass.

“You are adequate,” Dream says gravely, and Hob laughs gleefully. Dream intimately understands the meaning of dodging a bullet as Hob begins to talk about something else ― dinner, Dream catches, and he takes another useless breath. 

-

Dream does truly forget this time, as he looks around at Hob’s house, then pauses at the closed door, can faintly hear Hob speaking and Dream pauses. Can feel you, on the other side of that door rings in his head, and Dream ― reaches out, can feel how he changes things, presses onto the fabric of reality as he pulls it inside of himself, like a flower folding back up. 

Can feel the particles and dark matter buzzing inside his form as he walks closer and presses his ear against the door, closing his eyes as Hob’s soft voice washes over him, the laughter warm. 

And the other side of the phone ― Dream blinks, brows furrowing, because she’s a regular. A regular not there for sex, more for companionship, the familiar English accent of Hob’s voice, easing her homesickness. 

Sometimes she does get her self off after, but it’s more ― casual, Hob talking about recipes and both of them missing home. Serendipity of one day her wanting someone to masturbate to, and being struck by hearing the familiar sound. Crying and feeling embarrassed as Hob soothed her and made her laugh. 

Dream frowns, feeling put off, hackles rising as they talk and―Dream swallows, can feel the presence of him straining, not used to it, now that he’s aware of it, crawling under his skin― 

And on the other side of the door, Hob laughing and talking, and Dream can feel anger building, expecting ― filth, not this, which he can’t articulate why he hates it. 

Taking a deep breath, he steps back into the Dreaming, his presence blooming into nothing as dark clouds rumble in the sky. 

=

Dream slowly blinks, aware of a sound in his ear as he looks around ― the red phone box, black and rainbow-coloured glass, the phone’s curled line leading to the phone next to his ear, a dial-tone as it.

Tries to connect to Hob, Dream’s aware of, unable to feel Hob’s warmth, or his unseeing gaze as he sits on the floor of box, holding his knees with his free hand. He’s so tired. The bone-deep weariness, the work on keeping the Dreamling stable even when he doesn’t feel it. 

The way he ― didn’t contact or go to Hob, anger soon fading away, but by then there was political talks and treaties, a flurry of people counting on him, when he just wants to tend to his Dreamers, wants to make new dreams and nightmares, but can only manage nothing. 

Sighing, he presses the phone to his ear, dial-tone still ringing, and Dream considers that―”Dream?” A voice connects, confused as the daydream lights up, warmth infusing it and Dream relaxes at the sound of Hob’s voice. “So that was―you were calling me,” Hob says, voice confused and giving way to awe, and Dream smiles. What feels like his first smile in a while. 

“I was not sure it would work,” he says quietly, feet pressing against the corner of the box as he holds the phone closer to him. “I am sorry if I interrupted.”

Hob laughs, and Dream lets the sound wash over him, “nah. Just had some groceries to get ― then had this peculiar pushing feeling, like a knocking, which I ignored until I got everything home and put away. And it was my precious friend calling me,” Hob says, and Dream can easily see the smile with how Hob speaks. “You seem,” Hob pauses, and Dream looks up at the ceiling, can feel the other’s gaze, the concern and worry palpable. “Out of sorts,” Hob settles on. 

“I didn’t even realise I was calling you at one point,” Dream offers, and Hob makes a distressed sound. “It is nice to hear your voice,” he says with a sigh, curling around the phone. 

“And it’s nice to hear yours,” Hob says softly. “Anything I can do to help?”

“You already are,” smiling, he rests his chin on his arm, can feel Hob’s affection pouring through the daydream wrapping him up in heat. It intensifies and he shivers, can feel it press into all the empty and dark places, the bits of him still in cold and glass and pain―”I want to escape,” he blinks, only aware of the sentence after he said it, “but I cannot leave.”

Hob hums, and Dream can feel the phonebox flickering as Hob thinks, “a story, then? If you want,” Hob says softly, and Dream nods, the phonebox flickering, the red phone and it’s red wire only staying, “you said that to a friend, and this friend ― cares for you, can see how you need to get away,” Dream hums, falling into the highs and lows of the other’s voice easily. “And so, they kidnap ― nicely, taking you to some far-away cabin.” 

The phonebox changes, expands, becoming a wooden cabin ― a fireplace on the wall, fire crackling, a huge bed and Dream smiles, any kneejerk reactions fading into nothing at the constant warmth, Hob’s invisible gaze on him. And a shadow person, standing in front of him, hand outstretched, and Dream takes it to stand up from the carpeted floor, can feel Hob’s touch in the shadow. 

“Always working too hard, can see how it burns you out, putting too much on yourself, just wants to let you forget about it for a bit. It’ll all be there after, of course,” Hob says as they sit down on the bed, and Dream soaks up Hob’s voice, putting his head on the shadow’s shoulder, an arm moving around his own shoulders. “But you’re allowed time away ― especially with your friend, who took you so nicely, implored you to leave with them.”

Dream hums, can feel the Hob’s hair brushing against the back of his neck, the beard on his jaw as he presses his nose into the shadow’s neck, pleasantly scratchy. “Hob,” he breathes, insides twisting and hot, can’t help but to ― kiss him, and the daydream―Hob, hitches a breath. 

“Oh,” Hob’s voice is lightly strangled, but the shadow still kisses him back, hands on his jaw as the daydream heats up even more, can feel prickles of Hob’s growing arousal. “And―well―that is,” Hob stumbles, voice more breathless than before as Dream’s hands go into dark hair, thumbs stroking the grey of where Hob’s beard would be, and Hob lets out another sound. “Of course, your friend―that is,” a cough, “has wanted you, but wasn’t expecting this, was happy for just―” 

Hob swears as Dream licks into the shadow’s mouth, can feel hands going down to grip his hips as they kiss, can feel Hob’s gaze on him, hooking under his skin as he presses into the void-of-his-friend, can feel the other’s hard cock in jeans as he bites the shadow’s lips. 

There’s a gasp, a keen as the shadow’s hands go under his shirt, nails scratching up his torso. Hob lets out another sound, a tinge frustrated and the shadow moves, tugging him down onto the bed, pressing him against as Dream whines, shivering at the lips and stubble as the shadow bites marks into his neck. “This friend thinks you shouldn’t be working even in this,” Hob says, voice octaves lower as the shadow touches his robe, his shirt vanishing under it, “should focus on feeling good, on how maybe,” Hob’s voice cracks. 

“Maybe?” He purrs, can feel the other’s intense stare as his pants vanish, hands reverently going down his hips to his thighs. Can feel the daydream shaking with arousal ― Hob’s arousal, can feel the Dreaming beyond the little black bubble this is all placed in before he focuses back on the shadow, the room and Hob. 

And the shadow, fingers slick as they trail up his inner thighs, can feel Hob’s gaze zeroing in on him, focused to a point as he shudders, grasping at the shadow’s soft hair, “as a courtesy,” Hob rasps, voice deep as the shadow licks at a nipple, hardening under it quickly, and Dream gasps as a finger slowly enters him, pressing against walls with heat, “you should be fucked, taken care of, until you can’t think anymore.”

“By you?” He asks, keening as another finger enters him, stretching him slowly ― even though he doesn’t need it, body loosening around them easily and Hob whines, more fingers entering him. 

The shadow kisses him, beard rough against his face as they kiss, and Dream gasps, staring at ceiling as fingers graze his prostate, and Dream can only dig into the shadow’s shoulders, arching up into the feeling as thoughts vanish, the shadow moving down to nibble marks into his collarbone. “Yes,” Hob says, voice rough as the beard that scratches against his skin. “Would be happy to do that, for you, until you’re only just pleasure.” 

Dream groans, squirming under the shadow, wanting it so desperately as fingers continue to press that spot, and Dream grinds down on the feeling, chasing the orgasm in front of him, hearing Hob pant and moan. “With only your fingers?” He asks, voice tripping over itself, and he shivers as they crook inside him.

“To start with,” Hob answers, voice low and gutter-filthy, “a start, to get you out of your head, out of your work,” Hob says, fingers twisting and stretching even more, and Dream lets out a wail, arching into them mindlessly, body shuddering with pleasure. “With me.”

He comes with a cry, white coating the shadow’s front as Dream holds on, the press of warm nails verging into over-stimulation, into a shuddering, maddening amount of bliss. The fingers leave and he groans as he’s turned around, face pressing into pillows as the shadow forces him up by the hips, arse in the air. “Hob?” He slurs, can feel a nose ghost against his spine, thumbs digging into his waist. 

Hob lets out a breath, and he shivers as a tongue comes out, hot against his spine as it makes it’s way down. “There’s still so much to do, and there’s time for it all,” Hob promises.

-

Dream comes back to himself pleasantly, form faintly twinging as he stares at the wall of his bedroom, a stained glass window showing golden light that keeps him warm. His mind is clear, only one thing ― one person ― occupying it as he stands up, loose black robe forming around him. 

It’s only once he’s stepped into the Waking, and knocked at Hob’s front door, that maybe― 

Just a fantasy, Hob’s job, a one-off, his mind spirals as he crosses his arms, feeling the cool air with only his thin robe― 

“Dream!” He blinks and the door has opened, revealing Hob’s smiling face, and Dream relaxes at the sight. Hob doesn’t show any signs of what happened, which―of course, since it was a daydream. 

As Dream sits on the sofa, a part of him settles that if this doesn’t―become anything, he might be content with that. Since Hob didn’t throw him out at first sight, he can be happy with Hob’s friendship. 

“You, uh,” Hob says, tone faltering and Dream stares down at himself, at the small black robe. At the marks and beard burn he can feel on the inside of his thighs, the bruises on his neck. Hob’s face gets redder as he stares, brown eyes wide. 

Wide, and interested, can feel echoes of their daydream ripple through the air, Hob licking his lips and Dream’s form tingles, wanting. Not just a shadow, not just a daydream, wants to see Hob’s eyes get darker, like they are right now―and Dream surges up, grabbing Hob’s threadbare shirt to kiss him roughly. Dream’s hands clench as they go up, and he moans at the feel of the other’s beard, of the way Hob leans into the kiss, automatic― 

Hob breaks the kiss with a gasp, eyes wide with wonder, a hand in his dark hair, fingers curling around Dream’s dark strands. “Curiousity?” Hob asks, breathless. 

“No,” is all he says before going back in for a kiss, Hob’s other hand quickly grabbing his waist as Dream spins him around, pushing him onto the sofa. Hob gasps, hands tugging him down onto Hob’s lap, and Dream shivers at the affection and want he can feel coming from the other’s daydreams, Hob just as hungry as him as he grinds into Hob’s lap. 

[Fin]

[hyewka]

dominating..ceo soobin….dominating CEO SOOBIN!!!

using his tie as bondage ..haha im normal about this haha..but hear me out!!!!! hes a total nepo baby, getting the ceo position because of his father. different than his older brother in the sense that he thinks following in the steps of his father is his duty, none of that sense of “carrying tradition” translates well to his work though bcs he effing fucks up virtually everything that he touches. terrible at his job (nobody really tells him though) that his father has to literally hire someone to take it upon themselves to make the right decisions..so basically he has his CEO title for show. terrible at negotiation but not at asserting his dominance in the work space lol has the face of steel, not cracking a smile at any formal work events (not everyone knows hes playing with the cuffs of his stupidly expensive suit behind his back).

networking networking..networking!!! you approached mr. choi for networking. like everybody else. being friends with your ceo is unlikely, but being friendly with him would give you some perks. itd be hard though, considering the reputation he holds (cold, aloof, distant…bleh). with your simple black dress paired with pearl accessories to compliment it and your glass of wine in hand, you walk up to the rigid man by the weirdly empty bar. soobin is…awkward, really awkward. stumbles around his words when he offers a longer response to you, definitely is unprofessional with the way he just cant hide the blush on his cheeks and the fact that he even mildly finds you attractive. okay so change of plans, you’re flirting with your boss. harmless fun, everyones sort of drunk and in their own world with their plus ones anyway. “what department do you work in?”

“mm, you’re quite a curious guy.” you hide the amused smile managing to break through at seeing how his eyes widen, looking like his brains working at hundreds of miles per hour, “i’m in marketing.”

“oh, i hope you don’t take this the wrong way—sorry if you feel uncomfortable with so many questions.”

“i don’t mind them, keep asking.” you were definitely crossing an invisible territory with the way you bat your lashes at him, swirling your drink, pushing your tits up..just a bit.

himbo soobin getting more tipsy by the minute, he definitely becomes a little loose, a lot more confident with his words, though more susceptible to your teasing remarks, getting flustered every time you decide to slur your voice and actually hold eye contact.

now imagine you end up pushing soobin in a bathroom definitely not meant to fit two, at the party where hundreds of your coworkers are present, and giving him a fucking …handjob. “the bathroom?” he whispers, shocked at his whereabouts. you don’t pay him much mind as you hurriedly unbuckle his jeans, “raise your hands.” you order.

when you realize he didn’t listen to you, you take it upon yourself to take untie his tie, to which he audibly complains, “wait no—my outfitttt..”

“do you want to get like, the handjob of your life or are you going to keep being a whiny bitch?”

you’re not sure where the surge of confidence comes from (considering he could fire you with the snap of his fingers), but it shuts him up. using his expensive tie to keep his hands restrained, arms up high while you play with the himbos dick, haha…im gonna pass because the way hed be sooo whiny, whimpers slipping through but even more so when you experiment with dirty talk to see how he reacts—trying an insult about his work ethic, and how everyone sees him as incompetent, destined to throw the company to the ground..oh yup, there it is, his dick’s reacting. beads of precum’s dribbling down his tip, and you coo having found what he likes. “mr. choi likes getting degraded? imagine if your subordinates found out…”

“don’t—don’t tell anybody..please” its barely a whisper through the gasps you pull out of him every sudden speed up on his girth, but you could pick up on it.

you could’ve reassured him that you won’t, his secrets safe with you, pathetic ceo who likes to be dominated by a woman?!?!! scandalous!!! you obviously wouldn’t tell anybody, and you’ll make sure to clear that up after this but…having some fun wouldn’t hurt. not when you’re already giving your boss a fucking handjob. “my mouths tight shut… if you follow through. no cumming unless i say so.”

[punkitt-is-here]

I hope this is not intrusive, but I'd like to know since I'm going to college for animation in a few months: what did you pursue in college, and would you say the experience of college is worth it? Why or why not?

I had a fucking blast in college! It's been awesome. People shit talk it all the time because of the price and the job market or whatever, and I genuinely 100% get it, but for me it was a chance to be in a different space after being in a literal village for 18 years in my life and I met some of my best friends ever. Having the schedule of college really helped get me out of my shell, and the film and theatre programs here let me meet some of my favorite people on the planet. I'm queer, so that really factors into it, but I had a great time meeting other queer people my age in the departments and all my instructors were super kind and talented. I still had issues with the experience, but I'm going to miss it deeply and I'm really glad I went through with it. It's dependent on the folks running the program and the ones in it, but the film and theatre departments here rocked and I'm so sad to leave those folks behind next week! You get out what you put in, and I hope whatever you pursue goes excellent for you :>

[martian-astro10]

We have a lecture this semester called "life-span development", we basically study.... development in this and so we watch videos of babies, kids and adults and read about cases where children were abused since childhood and how it affected their development.

And like, our brain is so complicated and so fascinating, I just.... it's amazing. I find it so weird when people are like "psychology is so boring" like dude it's THE MOST interesting subject

And also, you guys need to look at unabomber's story, The dude was isolated for some time when he was a baby and decided to make it everyone else's problem

And also, the Genain quadruplets, they were born on the same day, almost the same time, had the same genetic makeup, but grew up to be completely different because of the huge difference in how their parents treated them and like, how fascinating is that.

I love psychology so much guys, I literally cannot imagine myself doing anything else. looking at the job market does make me feel a bit anxious but if I were to go back in time and was aware of all the risks, I would STILL choose psychology. I don't think I've ever opened my books and thought "fuck, this is not what I want to do"

[shatterstag]

So I just made something really really cool, for the first time ever, with my best friend, and I’m really really proud of it and it makes me want to get back into social media so I can tell people what a fucking crazy experience it was and the CRACKED workflow I developed to get it finished

So I guess maybe I will get back into tumblr and this is a bit of a life/journal update as a 31 year old who first posted on tumblr when I was freshly 18, because! Im trying to start my own small business. I lost my job as a games artist at the place I worked at for five years. I worked my blood sweat and tears into games that were nationally nominated at a fancy awards ceremony stage. I was really good at it!!

But my life suddenly fell apart when I went no contact with my mom, and my best friend/housemate was diagnosed with very rare cancer, and we were kicked out of our house so they could jack up the rent literally the week after their emergency life saving invasive surgery, and my wrist injury came back from moving and work and stress and I became disabled because of it, and I lost my job and several close friends because I had a full on nervous breakdown and physically couldn’t work or leave the house.

So that’s where I’ve been at for the last two years. And it was really overwhelming. I kinda have ptsd from it. But I’m getting my life back on track a little bit more and more and my wonderful girlfriend supports me while I try to venture back into making my own art and working for myself. I’ve got some really fun stuff in the works, I’m combining my art, 3d and ideas into 3d printing, which I really love and have gotten into. And I want to get back into making art and merch. And I also get to do it with my best friend, which is really cool and exciting! And we’ve been writing together for years and years now and have these two characters who turn the world for us, and now!!!

Now I’ll get to share a little bit about them because!! We worked hundreds of hours in a single week including over 60 hours together in two days and a 24 hour nonstop sprint to the finish line.

And it’s a comic about gay rabbit suplex yaoi.

I’m feeling very nostalgic because tumblr was crucial in helping me find myself and connect with others back in the golden era. I had so much fun back then, and I published my very first webcomic when I was 13 on Drunk Duck, and in two days I’m going to be selling my debut comic at a local queer market. And that’s just so cool.

So please look forward to it 🫡

[spectrechosts]

Maneater - Chapter 3

Camilla is broke and has a Lamia to feed, but surely somebody has to be in the market for aphrodisiac venom.

Hey wait, who's that?

Full Series

Camilla had money problems.

She had had money problems already, but now there was a giant snake shaped drain on her finances taking them from moderate to severe. Sikka seemed content to sleep most of the week away, but she would be hungry again at some point, so she needed money and she needed it fast.

She didn't have a job as such, but she, y'know, knew people. People who sold stuff. And those people knew people, and so she could get to know them too, and hopefully make enough money to not get eaten by a giant fucking snake.

At least, not in the literal sense.

So she was waiting in an alley in the middle of the night, because why get murdered in an interesting supernatural way when the regular way works just fine?

And then a woman materialized in front of her out of a swarm of bats, as if her life wasn't weird enough.

"Christ!" She yelped.

"Hey! Don't be saying that shit around me, c'mon." The vampire grumbled. "You Camilla?"

She nodded briskly.

"Cool. Alice." The vampire said, extending a hand that Camilla reached out and shook. "What're you in the market for?"

"Oh, uh, I actually wanted to know if I could uh, supply stuff? For you to sell?"

"Ugh, you a murderer? Because I'll take human body parts but I've gotta be honest, they don't sell for as much as you'd hope if you're not properly removing and preserving the organs, and you don't look the type."

"What? No!"

"Monster hunter? You have to tell me if you are, or it's entrapment."

"No!" Camilla said, exasperated. "I just sell weed, sometimes."

"Hm. Weed isn't really my department. Also legal." Alice said, bored.

"Yeah man, that's why I'm broke and talking to you, people are just buying that shit at the mall."

"Okay. So..?"

Camilla leaned in.

"Lamia venom." She half-whispered.

"Ooh." Alice said, eyes sparkling. "Yeah, I can sell that. How much do you have?"

Camilla shrugged.

"Like, however much you want, I guess?"

Alice's eyes narrowed.

"Are you keeping a Lamia? Because this really isn't their climate."

"Yeah, I've noticed, but unfortunately she's keeping me and I need to pay for food and heating somehow."

"Ha! Good luck with that. Text me when you've got some, we can work out a price."

And just like that she was gone again, bats scattering into the night.

~

"Aight, wake up sleepyhead! We've got work to do!"

"Bwuh?"

Sikka poked her head out of her coiled tail, bundled on top of Camilla's couch. She was effortlessly beautiful as always, until she yawned and revealed her gaping maw once again.

Camilla wasn't sure she would ever get used to that.

She fished a jar out of her ratty backpack and clambered into the bed of coils, the writhing mass shifting to accommodate her.

"My songbiiiiird." The lamia cooed, grabbing at her.

"Hey, leggo-" Camilla said, squirming away from her grasp while she opened the jar with a grunt. "Okay, you want lots of food, yeah?"

"Yes! Lots of food!"

"So what we're gonna do- Let- Stop it- What we're gonna do, is you're going to open your mouth, okay?"

"Okay!" Sikka said, opening her mouth wide.

"Okay, now-" Camilla held up the jar so that Sikka's long venomous fangs were inside it. "Hold this here."

Sikka took the jar in both her hands and closed her jaws a bit, her fangs hanging out of her now mostly human-looking mouth. She crooked her head curiously.

"Now, do your venom thing. In the jar."

Sikka scrunched her face up, her fangs shivered a little.

And nothing happened.

"You're not, uh, doing anything."

Sikka whined in frustration and tried again, still doing nothing, and then opened her eyes.

"Easier to do in pretty girl! Let me-" The lamia started, setting the jar aside and looming over Camilla.

"Hey! No!" Camilla said, holding her at bay and placing the jar back to her mouth. "It has to be in the jar, or you don't get more food."

The snake whined.

"Venom is for mate! Not jar!"

"Listen! You wanna eat human? I can get you human, if you can just put the venom in the fucking jar."

Sikka grumbled, but kept trying.

"Easier if mate Camilla helps..." She muttered, after a few more minutes of effort with nothing to show.

"Okay, help how?"

"Make feel good!" Sikka said, excitedly. "Then, easier to pretend jar is you!"

Camilla rolled her eyes and stripped off her shirt. "Why didn't you just say that in the first place?" She husked, gently guiding the snake onto her back. "Of course your mate can help you with that."

She dipped her head into Sikka's neck and kissed it, sucking hard on the soft skin and making the lamia squeak. She mashed her hand into one of her tits, groping it roughly.

This time, she would be the one in control. No surprise tongue bullshit. Or surprise venom bullshit. No surprises, period.

Well, maybe some surprises, because she wasn't actually sure what Sikka's whole genital situation was? She hadn't seen anything, and it's not like she wore any clothes. Still, if the fleshy bulge she could feel poking her leg was what she thought it was, that was something she knew how to work with. She reached down and-

"...Sikka?" She asked, glancing down.

"Haah?" The snake panted.

"Why do you have two dicks?"

She looked at the two tapered pink shafts that had sprouted from where Sikka's torso met her tail.

Just full of surprises, this girl.

"How many humans have?"

"One."

"Hah! Two better, I show you!" Sikka boasted.

"No! You just, lie there and hold the jar."

Camilla did not need Sikka to show her what she was capable of doing to her with those right now. The snake was already liable to forget what they were trying to do at any moment, she needed to stay focused.

Sikka nodded slowly, watching transfixed as Camilla lowered herself along her body.

"Have you ever gotten a blowjob before?" Camilla asked, grabbing the base of one of the shafts. It was weirdly shaped, and kinda slick to the touch? But she figured it couldn't be that different to a human dick.

"No?" Sikka answered. "What's thaaaaaaahh~"

Camilla took one of the cocks into her mouth, sinking most of the way down the shaft before rising back up. It was bigger than she was used to, but otherwise it really wasn't that different. Aside from there being two of them. Should she like, just focus on one? Or switch?

She would switch, that sounded right.

She bobbed her head on the first for a while before hollowing her cheeks and drawing off it with a wet pop. The snake whined for a moment until she quickly got to work on the second.

Honestly, compared to having Sikka's tongue down her throat sucking her dicks was pretty fucking easy. She glanced up and saw Sikka was still holding the jar like she told her, her eyes squeezed shut as she moaned and her long tongue lolled out of her mouth.

Finally, finally, she was the one in charge. It was nice, listening to how she gasped when she ran her tongue across different spots, finding all of her weak points. The snake was cute when she wasn't trying to eat her or absolutely wrecking her in bed.

She stroked the other dick with her hand, making the Lamia groan. This was the move, if Sikka trying to press her hips into her face was any indication. She squeaked loudly, shivering as her fangs shot her load of venom into the jar, half-filling it.

Camilla felt Sikka's cocks throb hard as she came, one shooting ropes of cum into the air and the other directly into her throat. She tried to swallow it all, but coughed and choked as it overwhelmed her.

While she pulled off and gasped for breath, Sikka just basked in the afterglow.

"Mate Camilla so good!" She praised her, inspecting the jar. "And smart to use jar! If I give you so much venom, maybe break you! Haha!"

"Y-Yeah. Maybe some other time."

"Haha! Yes!" Sikka said, perhaps a little too excited at the idea.

She took the jar from the snake and put a lid on it, then pulled out her phone.

Camilla

hey this is camilla i have that thing you wanted

Alice

Great, how much?

Camilla

like half a jar

Alice

...That isn't really a unit of measurement I can work with

Camilla

like a mediumish jar i dunno man just come pick it up in like an hour and bring something for her to eat

Alice

👍

Camilla

like the stuff you said doesn't sell for much

Alice

👍

Camilla

if you know what i mean because i did kinda promise her some

Alice

👍

Camilla

you do know what i mean right

Alice

Yes I know what you mean stop blowing up my phone damn.

Camilla

cool

~

Camilla got out of the shower and toweled off, checking the time as she got dressed.

"Hey!" She said, tossing a T-Shirt to Sikka. "Put that on, we're having company."

What was a T-Shirt on Camilla looked more like a crop-top on Sikka, on account of her height and her having considerably more in the chest than she did. Stupid sexy snake.

Did look pretty cute in it, though.

Right on schedule there was a knock at the door, and Camilla let Alice in.

"I come bearing gifts." The vampire said, shrugging a bodybag off her shoulder like it was nothing. "Food, for the snake."

Sikka slithered up to it suspiciously, grabbing it and dragging it to the back of the room where she was hiding behind the couch.

"Nobody saw you with that, right?" Camilla asked.

Alice ignored her. "And for you!" She said, handing Camilla a bag. "A measuring cup. You put things in it, and it measures them."

"I know what a measuring cup is!"

"Well, use one. 'Half a mediumish jar', what kind of drug dealer are you? Dumbass."

"Ugh, fine. It's like..." Camilla poured the jar into the measuring cup and then back again. "It's like a little under 250ml."

"Damn. That's from one bite? How are you not a complete fucktoy at this point?"

"Psshh." Camilla scoffed. "That's like, that's nothing to me man. And I'm like, the alpha, in our arrangement, so."

Alice didn't look convinced, but what did she know?

"Right. Well, I can give you $5000 for that."

"Holy shit, really!?"

"Minus 3000 for the body. Here." Alice said, handing Camilla a wad of bills.

"Aw maaan..."

"Wow, a human life isn't worth 3000 dollars to you?"

Camilla looked away, ashamed.

"I'm fucking with you." Alice said. "Guy died of natural causes. All the good organs were already gone by the time he got to me, it's just a big, hard to sell piece of meat at this point."

That was... better?

"Anyway!" Alice shook the jar, watching the pink-tinged venom swish around. "I have to go test this out. Text me when you have more."

"Will do."

[batboyblog]

Seeing the post about Jasmine, I can literally feel an ulcer grow within me. Are people actually this fucking stupid? Spreading VERY blatant and easily debunakable misinformation? Are they MALICIOUSLY trying to sabotage shit? Also the antisemitism only grows stronger. You literally have spoken in support of Palestine multiple times and yet these people start to froth at the mouth when they find out you're Jewish, these people have the reading comprehension of a fucking brick!!! And seeing the quote by Malcom X... Literally that's the most disgusting shit to act like you're a white liberal when Jews are not seen as white, are seen as lesser than white, the lack of self-awareness this person has is stunning. Sorry to make such a long post but what the fuck, seriously what the fuck is people's problem.

what the fuck is people's problem is a great question that I really wish I had an answer for.

I mean on the antisemitism front I suspect that the thrill of bullying transcends ideological views, just because you say you're a socialist doesn't mean you're also a good person. Just means you have justify your behavior through a new lens, so its fine to accuse Pete Buttigieg of being a sexual pervert like some conservative Catholic, if you're doing it as a "joke" because he's "Neo-liberal" or whatever, or post snakes at Elizabeth Warren, or or etc etc as long as you come up with an excuse its fine to be horrible as long as you do in the name of leftism! or whatever.

as to the wider question? why blow up chances to make progressive change by supporting nonsense candidates who are just unfunny versions of Vermin Supreme? hm I don't know, but I suspect that for a lot of them, politics aren't really real to them. It's like ideological football for them, the most important thing is to "be right" and "win the argument" over in reality, we have to sometimes work with people we loath, sometimes we have to put up with shitty things to get what we really want, and always always always its slow work. Listen, in 1912 Teddy Roosevelt put forward the idea of a national health service, over 100 years later we're still fighting for universal health care. Now we've made important steps, everyone over 65 those who need it most, have health coverage through Medicare, others have been added to Medicare, we have Obamacare which regulates the health markets and helps people get affordable coverage and more people are covered now than every before. But people like we're talking about would rather than was Nothing for anyone, that everyone was not covered at all, than take an answer that helps people but isn't perfect.

Just isn't my style really, idk I just can't help but think about all the people whose lives got saved by Obamacare and just, what we should have let them die? progress builds it doesn't just appear nothing just happens, so each term you move closer, but each time a Republican gets it, they undermine, undo, go backward. I mean for example, Trump literally wants to get rid of the job in government that advices all the many federal departs on how to be greener and replace it with a guy who's job it'll be to push departments to use more oil and gas.... literally thats a thing, what a perfect example of what a Republican Presidency is about, going backward. Then when we have a Democrat rather than making progress they have to undo all the damage to get to baseline and then start improving.

I also think there's a small group of cynical grifters, when Democrats/liberals/people on the left whatever we want to call them, are scared and frustrated and upset, ie when a Republican is in power and elections are years away, they invest, money, time, energy into things to try to feel like they're making a difference or that they're heard, or validated. Left wing podcasts boom, left wing groups that are good at social media boom, people can become kinda stars and make money. Now many of those people drift off to normal life when there's a safe Democrat not doing horrifying shit every day, the money dries up. So the cynical crowd 1. tries to undermine Democrats to keep that feeling of frustrated hopelessness alive in listeners so they keep toning in and 2. they want Republicans to win! of course! its good for them!