#the black vomit

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Impaled Nazarene - The Black Vomit

[blackmetalvampire]

⚡ SARCAFAGO ⚡ 💀 🇧🇷

[jaspercasperthecatghost]

james winks a regulus on the quidditch pitch, regulus winks back (to james' surprise) and james falls off his broom. (commentator remus is watching this unfold and sighs "really, prongs?")

[moonstruckme]

HI omg I’m in love with you and your writing and your sweet demeanor- you’re amazing!! I have a request for emt!marauders in an established relationship - with reader who is terrified of throwing up and emetophobic? Thank you!!!!

Thanks lovely <3

cw: emetophobia, mention of vomit (no description), reader has hair long enough to pull back

modern au

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 679 words

“Dove.” There’s exhaustion in Remus’ voice, and you feel wretched for putting it there. “You’re going to feel so much better if you just get it out of your system, sweet girl.” 

“I’m fine,” you mumble, but you have to swallow after the words. The muscles in your abdomen spasm punishingly. 

“You’re not,” Sirius insists. He’s been alternatively soft and stern with you, a vacillation you know stems from worry and so you’re trying not to hold it against him. Still, Remus sets a pacifying hand on his shoulder when some of your hurt shows on your face. 

You know you’re being difficult. You’d all gone out for dinner the night before, to a nice place, and all gotten the same pasta on the server’s recommendation. It was really spectacularly good. You’re not loving it so much now, though, when you can taste it in the back of your throat, vying for exit. 

Each of the boys had thrown it up in the early morning, and you’d spent the night on the couch, the worst girlfriend in the world, listening to ocean sounds through noise-canceling headphones and trying not to think about what was happening in the bathroom. 

Now you’re still lying curled up on the couch, taking sips of coke through a straw with a tiny electric fan set up on the coffee table to blow cool air in your face. James has wormed his way underneath you so your torso is laid across his lap, one of his hands pressed protectively over the aching part of your belly, and Sirius is perched on the coffee table while Remus watches you from the armchair. 

“Baby,” Sirius tries again, “Remus is right. This sort of food poisoning doesn’t go away on its own. You won’t feel better until you let it out.” 

You make a half-suppressed whimpering sound, and James coos, rubbing your stomach. “I know,” you admit. “I just—” Mortifyingly, tears invade your vision. You press your face into the couch, but not before you see Sirius’ brow crease with sympathy. “—really don’t want to.” 

“We know, honey.” James kneads skillfully at your abdomen, working out the tight muscles. “I get that it’s really hard for you, and you’re scared, but when it’s over it’s over. You only have to do it once.” 

You nod, and hot tears clump in your lashes. You don’t trust yourself to speak anymore. You hear the bucket they’d brought into the living room for you being moved closer, but you ignore the sound. 

“You’re alright,” Remus says, voice low and sure. “You’re going to be just fine. Just let it happen, and then you don’t have to do anything else. We can all relax for the rest of the day, yeah?” 

James’ fingers press gently into your stomach, and your gasp turns into a hiccup. You lean over the bucket with a whine, and Sirius grabs your hair while James murmurs apologies and assurances one after the other. 

“There we go.” Sirius holds your hair in one hand and rubs between your shoulder blades with the other, his touch cool on your hot skin. “Good girl, let it out.” 

When you’re done Remus brings you straight to the bathroom to brush your teeth, and they all oblige you when you want to change into new pajamas regardless of your current ones being perfectly clean. 

“You’re all done.” James takes your still shaky hands once you’re feeling fresh and clean, pulling you back onto the couch and mashing a kiss onto your temple. “Proud of you, sweetheart.” 

You harumph, but cuddle up to him. It is nice to be rid of the nausea, and the clamminess of your skin was something you didn’t realize had become so oppressive until it was gone. 

“I hope you’re willing to put as much energy into snuggling as you did into making me sick,” you tell him. 

Remus pokes you with his foot for being mean, but James does look a bit sheepish as he tugs a blanket around the both of you. “Oh, absolutely. Triple that.”

[scullcrusher101xd]

if you had one shot, one opportunity to take a nap. To sieze everything you ever wanted in one moment. Would you capture it or just let it slip?

[psychwardkitten]

[cuntylestat]

i think at this point it would have been kinder to just shoot armand in the head at point blank range. jesus

[wantonlywindswept]

forgotten fox ficbit

With Palpatine's dying breath, he curses Fox to be Forgotten.

(Fox isn't really bothered.)

---

There was a personnel transfer authorization sitting in Marshal Commander Thorn's crowded inbox.

He didn't remember requesting a fourth commander. The Guard was in desperate need of one following Thire finding Palpatine's wrinkled ass dead in his office, and the ensuing shitshow about the former Chancellor being a Sith and also controlling the war from both sides. Interim Chancellor Organa was incredibly competent and parsecs better than their previous natborn overlord, but even he was being swamped by the uproar in the Senate and the peace talks with the Separatists and the doubled amount of assassination attempts and the petabytes and petabytes of datawork--

Thorn couldn't remember requesting another commander, but he also couldn't remember the last time he slept.

Commander Vertex stood calm and at the ready on the other side of Thorn's desk, all-black helmet tucked under his arm as he waited patiently for Thorn to remember how to read. His hair was stark white, and there were vine-like scars wrapped around his neck that disappeared down into his blacks. The remnants of Sith lightning, Thorn knew, now that they'd been briefed on what that kind of thing looked like. 

Vertex's file was sparse, mostly redacted, and marked him as coming from the Special Operations Brigade, which Thorn could entirely believe.

"This isn't part of an investigation, is it?" he blurted, brain-to-mouth filter entirely gone after five too many cups of caf and an inadvisable number of stims over the past month. "The Guard was already cleared of suspicion involving the former Chancellor's death--"

Vertex held up a hand. Thorn's mouth snapped shut. 

"It's not," Vertex said, his voice firm, reassuring. There was something about it that made Thorn relax, as if his beleaguered hindbrain knew that the other commander had everything under control.

Spec Ops troops were amazing.

"The GAR is just reallocating resources given the recent upheaval," Vertex continued. Thorn nodded along like that all made sense. "I'm here to help with anything you need."

The word 'help' triggered a sudden burst of manic hope in Thorn's chest, and he lurched forward across his desk, grabbing Vertex's free hand in both of his own. The commander didn't even blink at the sudden movement, calmly meeting Thorn's wide, desperate eyes.

"Can you--" Thorn struggled to keep from sounding like he was begging, which he definitely was. "Can you do datawork?"

Vertex's sigh was entirely exasperated, and the roll of his eyes oddly, familiarly fond.

"Yes, Thorn. I can do your datawork."

---

Pt 2

[snufffilmst4r]

Very cool reGOREgitated sacrifice dvd by Lucifer Valentine !!!!

[sharkys-disco-stick]

By now most of us have played the BO6 campaign, and while it’s looking very likely that there will be a BO7, I can’t help but think of what the future looks like for certain characters.

Namely, I’ve been thinking about a Russell Adler who gets to grow old.

Who trades in the leather jackets of field work for the cashmere cardigans of the office. Who rotates out his watches with nylon and leather bands for those with metal links; ones that he never wore while traveling abroad out of the fear they’d be lost or ruined.

A Russell Adler who finds himself smoking more out of boredom habit than stress. And begins wearing cologne again to cover up the smell.

Who’s allowed to stay on with the CIA in an advisory capacity long after his retirement because his experience is just that valuable.

And the truth is, he just doesn’t want to admit to himself that it may no longer be needed.

Who’s finally forced to trade in his shades for reading glasses.

A Russell Adler who hopes his hair goes gray before his mind does.

It doesn’t.

7-7-7

[mcondance]

peter who tells you to just breathe

peter’s big, in multiple senses of the word. you both know this. he’s tall, and he’s buff, and, you know, he’s hung. . so it’s a process when you want him and he wants you, even if it hasn’t been that long.

kissing on the couch ends up with you bent over said couch, cause why walk stumble to the bedroom between kisses and touches and grabs when peter’s mumbling between one kiss and tug of clothes and another “couch, darlin’, right here’s good, anywhere’s good” and you oblige, kissing him again before you turn around and arch your back pretty how he likes it, jolting a little when you feel his hands ghost up the backs of your thighs

and yeah, foreplay helps— one, two, three of his fingers sliding slow and smooth inside you while he reaches under you to tease your clit— but he’s still big, and you can only take so much foreplay before you’re pushing back on him and throwing all caution to the wind. “just put it in,” you’re begging, and quill knows it’s gonna take a while to actually do what you said but at this point, fuck it.

he wastes no time, wraps his hand around his cock and taps his fat tip against your wet cunt, and pushes in just a little. you tense up, and he’s rubbing up and down your back and kneading your sides, humming “you got it, darlin’, you always do.”

and you know you do, but fuck, he’s big.

but he encourages you, whispers “just breathe, baby, le’me in.”

with deep breaths and peter’s hand snaking under you to play gently with your clit, he sliiidess in just a little more, praising you— "look at you, my perfect girl, takin' me so good."

he keeps praising you with every slide of his cock deeper inside you, his sweet tongue never growing short of words to help you. "almost there, pretty, you almost got it" and "you got it, star, know how good you can take it."

and when you close the gap yourself, push back onto him until your ass meets his hips, he's groaning softly as he watches your cunt swallow him up.

"'m all the way in," he tells you. "looked so pretty lettin' me stretch you open."

it takes a minute for you to tell him "move, baby, please", but it's not long until he's pulling out to slide right back in and you're moving back on him, listening to his slurred praises mix with your pretty moans and whines.

[naarlar]

MEL BLACK ROSE THEORY

Spoilers for Arcane Season 2 Act 2…….

So I think back when Leblanc as Amara was speaking to Ambessa, the thing she stole that’s more valuable than gold was… Mel.

I think Leblanc was being honest with Mel in the hole. Kino started hearing rumors about his mom and that caused a domino effect that lead to the Black Rose learning about the child and getting really mad at Ambessa.

These people clearly value their powers and magic and are most likely angry at Ambessa for never revealing that she was pregnant with their “sister”. They see it as stealing one of their own.

My question is what will Mel do now? I mean, she does not like her mom (and is probably mad at her right now for lying). And she definitely hates Black Rose for killing Elara and Kino. I don’t know where her story is headed honestly

EDIT: quick extra note to add, when they were attacking Mel with chains and talking about having hopes for her brother, I think they initially thought he was the child and they tried to confirm it by attacking him the way they did Mel. The only difference is that Kino didn’t have the powers to save himself like Mel did. That is why they haven’t stopped since killing him. If Mel didn’t have the powers, then she would be just as dead as Kino.

[gottawhump]

Room

115

CW/TW: BBU/wru, pet whump, food mention, vomiting. Caretaker is new master.

He’s shaken and shaking as he follows his new owner, knowing he’s already messed up. Punishment delayed is punishment doubled.

“This is your room,” the owner says, opening a door and going in.

It’s a simple room. A closet. A dresser. A desk. A chair. A bed. Soft neutral colors, accented by darker wood. A guest room.

“Yes, Sir,” he manages before his stomach rebels. He rushes to a door near the back of the room, which thankfully is a bathroom, falling to his knees and throwing up in the toilet, acid and bile fouling his mouth and nose.

Disgusting. He stays there, shaking and crying, certain he’s cemented his place in this new household. Disgusting whore.

“I’m sorry,” his new owner says, coming in. “I guess that cheeseburger was a bit much to start with. Maybe you’ll feel more up to soup and toast later.”

“Yes. Yes, Sir.”

He risks looking up, and there’s no anger in his owner’s eyes, only concern.

“Carlisle. My name is Carlisle, and you’re allowed to use it. Or Mr. Black, for more formal times, or if that makes you more comfortable.”

“Yes, Si-Carlisle.” It feels weird, to say his owner’s name. Had even known his last owner’s name?

“Take a shower and clean yourself up.”

“Yes, Carlisle.”

He runs the water in the shower hot, even though it makes him feel dizzy. Even though he wasn’t given permission for hot water. It feels like defiance.

Whatever comes next, he will at least have felt warm for a while.

Afterward, he can’t bring himself to get on the bed. Not before he must. He kneels next to it, and waits.

Later, in the middle of the night, he wakes in the bed, the covers pulled over him. Untouched. Alone.

There’s an insulated cup on the bedside table. He drinks the still-warm chicken broth, then falls back asleep.

Old Friends taglist: @painful-pooch @justplainwhump @redwingedwhump @maracujatangerine @honeycollectswhump @tragedyinblue @taterswhump @nicolepascaline

[fujimousee]

@sanusoweek sanuso week day 1 : ice skating !!!

[iplayghoul]

i know im supposed to finish that ghost fic, but i kept thinking ab piss kink wit onyankopon. stay wit me now!

ony's the typa nigga to not have a thing for feet at awwl, but will suck on ur pretty toes when he sees u got them done, just bc its youu

so the piss kink conversation was nothing in depth really! but it starts off spending the day at the mall wit him, you had water with breakfast, grabbed a caramel frapp as you started your shopping adventures with him and got some sprite wit your lunch that almost killed u !!

its nnottt long at all b4 u gotta get to the bathroom :3 the first time u ask ur like "ony can u hold my bags for me, i gotta go pee real quick babe." and its a simple question really, ur handing ur bags over to him already but he doesnt take them, he just says "nah, lets go," and suddenly youre... a bit shellshocked lmfao. but he has you walking into the next store like nothing happened.

within another hour, your feet hurt and youre ready to gtfo this damn mall :( and ur bladder is holdin on by a thread too ! ur bouncin on the balls of ur feet and bouncing your legs restlessly as you hold ur pee, literally throbbing from the sensitivity 😭😭

so u ask him again, "ony bae, i really needa go piss, come on." this time he stops n looks u in the eyes, rubbing your arms calmingly and says, "you can hold it, can't you mama? you're a big girl u can do that f'me. cant you?" ur eyes are glossed overrr the ache is honestly unbearable so within the next 20 minutes yall are finally getting home.

when u guys get back to ur apartment, ur rushinnn to ur bathroom so quick, but ony grabs you by the arm, lightly pushing u to just sit on the bed and u bounce restlessly on the bed, ur piss just on the edgeee ready to come out >>:( u cant help but mumble questions at him, getting irritated but he remains calm and only smiles, drawing his fingers between ur legs to put pressure on ur clit. he rubs hard circles on you and now youre torn between focusing on the stimulation to your clit and trying not to piss all over him and the bed.

he's soo sneaky and skillful honestly, he's holding you down with one arm while the other is working you hard and slow, letting your clit harden and puff out below his thumb and his eyes are glued to yours, except all you can do is stare at his thumb's work. as if that would help u stop yourself from peeing :/

i like 2 think that ony is quite mean, but hes so soft and casual about it, he gets away with it so easy. because its only a matter if time before he has two long fingers in your pussy, together with his thumb on your clit and now you're gripping that arm so bad 😭 eyes teary and can never be drawn away from observing his hands on you.

its sinister honestly the way he so slowly strokes your g-spot with his clean cut and trimmed nails. and then he's getting on his knees... everything speeds up and suddely your tapping his arm quick, panicked telling him to stop before you cum. n squirt all over him. his eyes remain trained on yours, revelling in the way your eyes frantically move from his to his fingers and back to his😭😭😭 "mmm, u cant handle dat?" he mumbles, onya's so mean to u >_< you're speechless honestly, this day didnt go how you expected it.

but, ur dripping down his palm, tears mimicing it the same way on your cheeks and then youre cuming hot and heavy . u swear warmth washes over your entire body and your thighs squeeze around his hand and ony's fingers never fuckin stop . orgasming so damn hard your tummy started to cramp up and ur legs stiffened up baaad in that position. "let it go baby, c'mon mama. been such a good girl f'me."

and jus like that, u let go, piss n squirt, whatever the fuck it is spraying in a hot, relieving stream onto his face just like he wanted, he gives ur lower lips a few kisses n licks :<< then going slack jawed, cupping ur cunt wit his mouth while u spasm and moan above him. lettin u full his mouth up real good :)

[theorderoflilliesandopals]

Sometimes I think about the fact that both Sanji and Zoro love language as acts of service but it presents in different ways. Because Sanji’s love and care is so obvious. The way he cooks and feeds the crew. Making sure they’re well fed and making healthy meals. That’s how he loves because that’s how Zeff loved him too. Like father, like son in that respect really. And I think about how Zoro is also acts of service but it’s quieter most of the time. It’s the way he watches out for everyone. How he’ll jump in the water to fish out their Devil Fruit users every time. How he lets Luffy and Chopper climb over him. How he’s a pillar of strength for them all. So is Sanji. The two wings of the Pirate King.