#Sub Concious

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For Years, Eligio Bishop Led a Self-described Cult. Now, He’s Serving Life in Prison. Image Courtesy Of Carbon Nation

Eco-Radical, Singer, Criminal, Cult Leader: Inside Carbon Nation

Eligio Bishop Declared Himself a God to a Group of Dedicated Followers He Led Through Central America, Mexico, and the US Before Landing in the Atlanta Area. Now He's Serving Life in Prison

— By David Peisner February 23, 2025

t’s July Fourth, and Eligio Bishop is pacing his cell at the Georgia Diagnostic and Classification State Prison, with a phone pressed to his ear, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. The 42- year-old is locked in his cell nearly 24 hours a day, seven days a week. His only company, he says, are rats and roaches that sometimes bite him while he sleeps. “If there was hell on Earth,” Bishop says, “this is it.”

Bishop’s cell is small and austere. The one indulgence he’s permitted are phone calls, in 20-minute increments, every few days. For someone who loves talking as much as Bishop, it’s a lifeline. A guard rolls the phone cart into his cell, and if nobody else wants it, Bishop can string together these 20-minute calls for hours, which is how I end up spending nearly four hours across two days talking to him.

Bishop is serving life without the possibility of parole after being found guilty in March of rape, false imprisonment, and revenge porn. He claims he’s innocent. In fact, it’s one of the first things he tells me on the phone: “I’m a controversial figure because what I stand for goes against the power structure.”

Since 2016, Bishop has led an itinerant eco-cult known for most of those years as Carbon Nation. Calling himself “Natureboy,” he’s promoted a grab bag of beliefs including veganism, polygamy, nudity, astrology, and sleeping and shitting outside. “What I stand for is very simple,” he says. “The human race needs to stop living the way we’re living — for our own survival. I promote living in tune with nature.”

Bishop contends that melanin, which produces skin, hair, and eye pigmentation, has almost supernatural powers enhanced by the sun. As such, he preaches the benefits of leaving the U.S. to live in the tropics, particularly for Black people. He traces issues plaguing Black Americans — racism, poverty, illness — to the fact that, as he puts it, “this isn’t our natural environment, but we’re still fighting for our rights within it.”

Between 2016 and 2022, Bishop and a rotating core of about 10 to 20 followers hopscotched through Central America, Mexico, Puerto Rico, Hawaii, California, Nevada, and Texas, before landing in the Atlanta area. His role evolved from master teacher to tribal chieftain to God himself.

“I’m going to tell you this right on the phone,” he says during our July Fourth call. “I am the king of the Earth. I’m the Messiah. I’m God returning. I’m Christ.”

Bishop says things like this a lot. It’s part of what makes talking to him so disorienting. It’s less a conversation than a long, winding monologue. My efforts to steer it with questions aren’t ignored but rather incorporated into Bishop’s stream of consciousness. A didactic lesson about the biblical creation story (“In the beginning, God said what? Let there be light, yes. So, God thinks us into existence.”) incorporates references to Kanye West and the Christopher Nolan film Inception. There are cogent points about white supremacy and environmental destruction cheek by jowl with tangents on R. Kelly, ChatGPT, and the hair-root plexus. He tells me white people are “a virus on the planet” and Black men are “the immune system,” which is why “you throw us in cages.” When I ask where this particular theory will lead, he begins to rap the chorus of Kendrick Lamar’s “Not Like Us,” then launches into an antisemitic tirade against Drake.

Even when you can’t follow the internal logic or don’t agree with it, the sense that there is a logic can be enticing. It feels like a puzzle you might be able to solve with a little more time, a little more insight, a little more something, that an important truth is just around the next rhetorical corner. At times, Bishop talks like he’s bludgeoning you into submission, but at other times, it’s a delicate dance. He flatters (“You smart, bro.”), he threatens to hang up (“Why would I talk to you if you don’t feel I’m innocent?”), then insists I’m fated to help exonerate him (“Dave, that’s why we’re on the phone! You’re gonna help me. I already seen it!”).

Bishop’s message has resonated more widely than you might guess. Carbon Nation is part of an ecosystem of Black spiritualists, natural-living advocates, herbalists, alternative historians, motivational speakers, and backpack rappers known as the conscious community. Bishop amassed 94,000 subscribers to his YouTube channel, NatureboyTV, and more than 50,000 on Facebook and Instagram. At times, the cameras were running nearly round-the-clock, turning Carbon Nation into a sort of immersive, nonstop reality show.

All this attracted a steady churn of new members, most of them Black, creative, and relatively young. Several, including Bishop, fancied themselves rappers or singers; a few had worked on the fringes of the music business. As such, Carbon Nation produced lots of music — mostly hip-hop, some of it surprisingly listenable. Many members, christened with catchy names like Musa, Zoca, and Soular, became micro-celebrities. Dozens of YouTube channels and TikTok and Instagram accounts comment on the group.

They’ve rarely been starved for content. Since 2016, members of the self-described cult have coupled, uncoupled, argued, fought, been exiled, returned. Bishop has juggled a rotating cast of “wives,” encouraging them to battle — at times, literally — for his affections. There’s been lots of sex — in pairs, in groups — but make no mistake, this isn’t free love. Particularly in recent years, Bishop controlled the group with an iron fist, laying down rules about everything from when people can eat to who they can sleep with.

“Wherever Eligio went, chaos ensued,” says Chantelle Coleman, who runs the Tea, a YouTube channel that bills itself as “the TMZ of the Conscious Community.” One member died under murky circumstances in Mexico. Another was murdered in Canada. A woman who’d spent a few weeks with Carbon Nation in 2020 was arrested months later for killing her mother. Multiple followers have accused Bishop of rape and domestic violence.

Bishop maintains that the incident that landed him in prison was consensual and sees his prosecution as part of a larger story. In 2023, two other prominent figures in the conscious community, Rashad Jamal of the University of Cosmic Intelligence and Michael Noak, an author known as Brother Polight, were sentenced to long prison terms on sex charges. Dwight “Malachi” York, leader of the Nuwaubian Nation, a Black Muslim cult based in Georgia, was in 2004 sentenced to 135 years in prison for a variety of charges, including child sexual abuse and rape. Bishop contends the government is “targeting Black men that are teaching spirituality.”

“Anybody saying ‘I’m God’ or any kind of Black male that has been in tune is getting locked away,” he tells me. But this has only strengthened his self-belief. “I can’t regret anything because this is happening the way it’s supposed to happen. It has to be this way.”

Launching A Movement

Carbon Nation’s story begins in another small room nearly a decade earlier. In mid-December 2015, Bishop made a 14-minute YouTube video in his bedroom titled “Natureboy How I Live & why.”

The room isn’t much to look at. The walls are bare, save for a small corkboard where he’s tacked up a map of the United States and a menu from Tassili’s, his favorite raw vegan restaurant in Atlanta. There is no bed, just some blankets and pillows lying directly on the beige carpet.

If the overall aesthetic exudes the sad desperation of life on the margins, Bishop himself seems gleeful as he shows viewers his space. Five minutes in, he turns the camera on himself. He’s tall, handsome, with patches of wispy stubble framing his face.

“There Was A Lot Of Anger In The Black Community, And He Was Like, ‘We Just Gotta Move.’ ”

“People talk about the injustices, white supremacy, and what are we doing about it,” he says. “I’ve decided to be the change that the planet needs.… This is my transition before I go into nature and move out of the country. This is the most efficient way to shut the system down. We don’t need to be violent.… All we need to do is go into nature.”

That video garnered about 40,000 views, but in the Carbon Nation universe, it’s the Big Bang. Bishop continued making videos, expanding on his ideas, and laying out plans. In July 2016, he posted a video responding to the shooting death of Alton Sterling, a 37-year-old Black man, by police. He urged viewers to “leave America this year before you’re not even able to fucking leave at all.”

Erikka Carroll remembers that video. “There was a lot of anger in the Black community, and he was the first person I heard that was like, ‘We ain’t got to be angry. Just move away.’” Carroll, 38, had been working as an engineer and studio manager for rapper T.I. in Atlanta, but felt disenchanted: “I had everything I wanted, but I felt empty.” She’d just quit her job when Bishop’s video appeared in her Facebook feed. She reached out. He hadn’t yet left the U.S. but told her to stay in touch.

In late July, Bishop took the plunge, and traveled to Honduras. Among the small crew that joined him, one had access to a house there. “We get there, and his house is like a hole in the wall,” Bishop said on a podcast in 2017. “One thing about Natureboy, I don’t like bugs and nasty, creepy shit. I was like, ‘I’m not staying here.’” They settled instead at a rental property near Trujillo. Carroll arrived in September, by which time the group had grown to 10 people and was alternately calling itself Melanation or the Etherians.

“It was beautiful,” Carroll says. Behind the house, a trail led to a waterfall. “We’d get up, watch videos on certain things like melanin. Then we’d go for lunch, go to the waterfall.”

Bishop didn’t invent the idea of Black people quitting America. In fact, the urge is as old as the country itself. In the first half of the 19th century, the American Colonization Society worked to establish Liberia, a colony (and later a country) in West Africa populated by freed Black people from the United States. In the early 20th century, Jamaican activist Marcus Garvey founded the Universal Negro Improvement Association in Harlem, essentially birthing modern Black nationalism and the Back-to-Africa movement.

“There is a long tradition of interest in leaving,” says Ousmane Power-Greene, a history professor at Clark University and the author of books on Black emigration. “It’s been rooted in the idea that outside the U.S., Black Americans can establish a place that will demonstrate Black capability to Black people in the diaspora and perhaps even to a European or American world.”

Bishop’s main innovation, if you can call it that, was pitching a divorce from America as both a wellness journey and the ultimate social media power play. An early video from Honduras feels like a tourist-board commercial, with Bishop and followers frolicking in the river. “This isn’t a vacation,” Bishop says. “This is where we live. You’re more than welcome to stay. You can camp out with us.”

Rah Xi, now a 32-year-old poet, dancer, singer, and songwriter, heard that message right when she needed it. She’d quit her day job as a bank teller and “really wanted to get out of America,” she says. “I just had so much anger towards America. They said all you gotta do is get a flight and we’ll provide housing and food. I saw that video on Facebook, and two weeks later, I was on a plane.”

Bishop was magnetic. But he chose his flock carefully. The group ate one meal a day, all together, at lunchtime. Xi recalls someone who resisted. “This person was like, ‘I want to eat at night.’ He’d make his own meal. He ended up getting kicked out.” When another member disagreed, they got booted, too. “That was the beginning of his ego taking control.”

Life On The Inside

Bishop soured on Honduras after he and several others were robbed at gunpoint. The group piled into a van and drove to Costa Rica, where they moved into a stunning hilltop rental house. In a video from February 2017, Bishop shows off the compound, pointing out fruit trees and a cluster of tents pitched on a knoll overlooking a green valley.

“We live away from everything,” he says. “We are a cult. I am a cult leader.”

Despite a supposed disdain for fossil fuels and modern society, Bishop bought cars, motorcycles, and computer equipment. “We were out there balling,” says Carroll.

Although Bishop claimed he brought some of his own money, the majority of the early funding seems to have come from Philip Goss, who was one of the original three who joined Bishop in Honduras. Several people I interviewed say Goss donated $300,000 to Bishop, and Bishop and Goss talked about it in a video from that time. (Goss didn’t respond to interview requests.)

Most people who joined Carbon Nation at the height of its popularity were creative, young, and looking for a change. Courtesy Of Carbon Nation

Goss began to handle the group’s finances. When Alex Raposo arrived in Costa Rica in 2017, he handed over his debit card to Goss. “I should’ve thought that was a red flag,” says Raposo, a white Canadian bodybuilder who’d discovered Bishop’s videos on YouTube. “They used my card and bought a ping-pong table for $800.”

Among the major purchases in Costa Rica was a bevy of musical instruments and recording equipment. “I told him everything he needed for the studio,” says Carroll, the former studio manager. She spent time crafting beats under her cult name, Blueprint, with tracks leaning into the bright, soulful, earnest vibe of early-2000s conscious hip-hop.

One night, Carroll says, Bishop was recording, and it wasn’t going well. “He wanted to rap and was thinking he can do everything perfect. It wasn’t coming out like that.” Carroll told him she was going to sleep. “He was like, ‘If T.I. said he wanted to record, you would’ve!’ I’m like, ‘Bro, I don’t work for you!’” The argument escalated. “He stepped to me, and I was on my tippy-toes, like, ‘I ain’t scared of you!’” Bishop backed down. Carroll left the group not long after.

Becoming A Cult Leader

Bishop was born in Harlem in 1982 and has said he was a “crack baby.” The story of his upbringing he lays out in his social media videos is troubled. Efforts to get in touch with family members were unsuccessful.

The childhood he describes begins with a void: He has no memory of his parents, who died when he was young. He and his younger brother bounced between foster homes, where, he has said, he experienced sexual abuse. When he was about 11, both brothers were adopted by a couple in New Jersey.

Initially, the new home, in a bucolic suburb, felt like a dream. “It was beautiful nature out there,” Bishop said.

But after the adoption was finalized, life there changed. In his videos, he describes one adult in his life telling him “because I was dark-skinned, I was dirty,” being scared of his reflection because he was told he was a demon, as well as physical abuse.

As a teenager, Bishop repeatedly ran away from home. “I was in the streets, smoking weed.” Soon, he “had a rap sheet for doing a lot of crimes.” He says he was sent to a series of juvenile detention facilities, and at 16, was transferred to East Jersey State Prison, where he attempted suicide. After an evaluation, he spent time in the prison’s psych ward.

After his release, he enrolled in the military. He has said he completed basic training but was discharged when the Army learned of his psychiatric treatment. He found work as a model, then a stripper, which led to about 10 years in the sex industry. When a gay-porn video featuring him surfaced, he addressed it on a livestream: “I was young and did that for money, so I could survive in the world.”

Around this period, Bishop worked as a barber with his own shop in an Atlanta suburb. He had the gift of gab and would hold court there for hours. He kept a chessboard handy and promised that anyone who could beat him would get a free cut. “Nobody beat me,” he said.

In 2011, police were called to a house east of Atlanta and found Bishop on the front porch attacking Maisha Evans, who he lived with. “When I was hitting her, a cop came out of nowhere,” Bishop said years later in a video. “A cop pulls me off her because I’m trying to fucking murder her.” The police report notes Evans had “severe swelling over her left eye the size of a fist that appeared to possibly be a broken bone; a laceration behind her left ear, several marks on her upper body, and her pajama pants were torn.” (Evans did not respond to requests for comment by press time.)

Bishop was charged with aggravated battery. He faced 20 years in prison, but by the time the case was about to come to trial the following year, Evans and Bishop had reconciled. She wrote the judge a letter in his favor. Bishop took a plea deal that included probation and a $1,000 fine, but no prison time.

“After Maisha, I promised the universe that if you got me out of that time I was supposed to do for putting my hands on [her], that I would never hit another woman,” Bishop said on a livestream. “I lied.”

Looking For Their Place

In mid-October 2017, Bishop led his dozen or so followers on a road trip across Costa Rica. At a routine checkpoint, police detained the group when they discovered most didn’t have passports or had overstayed their visas. They were driven to the police station in the nearby city of Limon.

On the bus outside of the police barracks, most of the group seemed calm, resigned to their fate. Except for Bishop. He livestreamed on his phone, getting increasingly worked up.

“We live on Facebook right now!” he shouted. “Everybody bring their cameras out, make sure they record this, yo! Because if we gonna die, we’re gonna die just like this is going down!”

An immigration officer boarded the bus and offered to let everyone go once they signed some paperwork.

“We not signing nothing!” Bishop yelled. “We’re standing up for humanity! If you don’t stand for something, you’re going to fall for anything.” Bishop insisted they wouldn’t get off the bus. “You’re going to have to use violence.”

Moments later, police did. Although video of the incident is dark, loud, and hard to follow, Raposo says some members “decided to fight back. They all got beat up. I got released the next day because I didn’t fight back. I had my passport. They stayed for two weeks in a hotel prison.” Most of the group was subsequently deported, but the live­streamed melee generated views.

“People were like, ‘Oh, my God! They arrested Natureboy!’” says Raposo. “That’s what got him a lot of attention.” At times, that’s what Bishop seemed to want most — views, clicks, likes, followers, engagement — even though attention often brought problems.

Before the group left Costa Rica, Bishop had posted a shocking video. “I wanted my son to be so pure that he’d never know he was naked,” says Bishop, who has four children. “I take baths with my kids. I’m naked with my kids. I have sex in front of my kids! My son be breastfeeding, I be making love to his mom! That’s how I get down around kids!” He goes on like this for a minute or so. “My son �� I have sex with his mom. After I’m done, I’m laying there, chilling. He grabs my penis. He’s playing with my penis. I let that happen!”

“I Promised The Universe I Would Never Hit Another Woman,” Bishop Said. “I Lied.”

Bishop later tried to walk back some of these comments, claiming that when he said he had sex around his children, he meant when they slept. By then, though, the video had taken on a life of its own. In late 2017, after being deported from Costa Rica, Bishop was in Texas and got a visit from the state’s Department of Family and Protective Services, who, he says, “did an all-out investigation” and found him “not a threat or a pedophile.” (In response to an open-records request, a representative with the Texas DFPS said it cannot provide case records.)

Early the following year, the cult had relocated to a property in the lush jungle near San Ignacio, Belize. On a visit to a nearby internet café, the proprietor recognized Bishop from the video and insisted he leave. Later that day, neighbors accused him of being a pedophile. The following day, the cult fled Belize.

“The video is haunting me and can be used to target me in the wrong way,” he said on a recording posted that February. “That’s OK because they do this to Black leaders, to anybody trying to organize anything.” He mentions Martin Luther King Jr. getting stabbed by a mentally-ill woman in 1958. “Anytime you’re a leader and you’re making an impact, there will be people that hate you.”

By this time, there’d been considerable turnover within the group, which now went by Carbon Nation. Most of the new members were in their twenties and thirties, and many felt disillusioned with American society. Several had struggled with depression. But one didn’t fit this profile. Magdalena Sevilla was a 59-year-old mother of adult children who’d been managing a men’s clothing store before she joined Carbon Nation in April 2018. In one video from June of that year, she describes her life as a “spiritual quest” and mentions having been involved with B’nai Zaken, a Black Hebrew Israelite congregation in Chicago, for a time. She’s a gentle presence, a heavyset woman with a soft voice and short, graying black hair. Her daughter, Iset Sevilla-Bazan, says her mother had always had a spiritual curiosity but only discovered she’d joined Carbon Nation when she saw her mom in one of the group’s videos. “It was definitely a shock,” Sevilla-Bazan says.

After an interlude in southern Mexico, Carbon Nation returned to Belize. Sevilla-Bazan struggled to keep in touch with her mother, who went by Mama Dia in the cult. She says that over texts, her mother claimed cell reception was spotty or that her phone battery was dead.

“We’re not sure it was even her responding,” Sevilla-Bazan says. She watched Carbon Nation’s livestreams hoping to spot her mom. When she did, “the rhythm of her speaking was changing. She looked not very healthy.”

By late June, the group had migrated to Palenque, Mexico, where they rented a gorgeous, modern stone house with a plunge pool and patios in the jungle outside of the city.

Most members pitched their tents on a soft, green lawn near the foot of a long stone staircase. In the mornings, they’d typically wake up then make their way inside the house. Sevilla was an early riser, but one morning, as everyone gathered, she was missing. Goss found her in her tent, unresponsive. Another member of the group joined him and noticed “her color had changed.” Sevilla was dead. The medical examiner in Palenque determined the cause as heart failure.

Sevilla had preexisting heart issues, but they’d been successfully managed for years with medication. In videos filmed before her death, Sevilla says she’d stopped taking her medicine. Many online blamed Bishop, who’d long preached that nearly any malady could be healed naturally, without pharmaceuticals. He has repeatedly denied counseling Sevilla against taking medication.

Velvet Marquez, an ex-member, has said Sevilla complained about leg pain in the days before her passing, which can be a symptom of heart issues. Marquez recommended she tell Bishop she needed to go to the hospital. She isn’t sure Sevilla ever did, but blames Bishop regardless. “He does not allow people to have medical attention,” Marquez said in 2020. “This is why Mama Dia passed away.”

Sevilla-Bazan believes her mother would still be alive if she never joined Carbon Nation. After her mother’s death, Sevilla-Bazan struggled to get an accurate sense from Bishop or his followers of what exactly happened.

“I just want to get answers,” she says.

Violence in the Group

At the end of 2017, Daylin Armstead, who goes by Musa, was 22 and in his final semester of college near Baltimore, about to graduate with a psychology degree. His passion, though, was music. He’d played instruments growing up, had done some rapping, and the previous year, he’d gone in with friends to buy a small studio, where he taught himself to engineer. Despite all of this, Musa felt a gnawing emptiness in his life. He found videos of Bishop on YouTube talking about living more sustainably, and it filled some of that void.

“I wasn’t as big on all the spiritual concepts,” Musa says. “I was more so on the system collapsing and really wanting to be self-sustainable.”

At the time, Musa was helping raise two kids. The more he watched Carbon Nation’s content, though, the more he was drawn in. He reached out, letting them know he made music. “I was trying to show I could contribute,” he says.

Musa had seen a video laying out the protocol for prospective new members to join. “He’d teach you to reprogram your subconscious mind,” he says.

This meant aligning your social media accounts with the group’s accounts, reposting what they post, and following the group’s core principles wherever you were. “So, I stopped taking showers,” Musa says. “I was pooping in the woods. At the time, I was in Maryland, and it was winter.”

As Musa recounts all this to me, I get the feeling he knows it sounds crazy but isn’t willing to dismiss it as a joke. At the time, he felt like, “If I didn’t change the way I was living, I was going to suffer some type of consequence from the universe. So, I left in the middle of the night and didn’t tell anybody.”

This was just after Bishop and his followers had been deported from Costa Rica. Musa got in his car, left his life behind, and drove to meet the group in Texas. Musa slid into Carroll’s former role as engineer and producer of the group’s music. Working frequently with two other recent initiates, Armon Palmer, who went by Pisce, and Ishmael Goodwine, a.k.a. Caliber, the group’s musical output accelerated.

Eligio Bishop, the leader of Carbon Nation, teaches followers “Spirituality 101.” Courtesy Of Carbon Nation

“Loving the money and hating the system/Is loving the warden and hating the prison,” Palmer raps with an eerie synth hook looping behind him on one song called “Negropean.” The song’s music video features Musa and Palmer shirtless, decked out in feathered headdresses, tribal jewelry, and face paint, stalking around vivid jungle landscapes.

“The message was a product, like cocaine,” Musa says. “We were there to package it and get it out.”

Bishop often wasn’t directly involved in writing and recording, but his presence always loomed. Songs that weren’t on message didn’t see the light of day.

Carbon Nation flooded the internet with content — music, lectures, cooking shows, livestreams. By this time, the group’s YouTube videos had a more professional sheen. Many feel like TV shows, complete with opening theme music and a recurring cast of young, beautiful characters. Behind the scenes, though, things were shifting.

“In Palenque, shit started getting more militant,” Musa says.

“We’d eat at the same time, get up at the same time, go to sleep at the same time,” says Aaron Dixon, who went by Tru. “Now, I know those are cult tactics, but at the time, I felt like, ‘This is a community.’”

Dixon had first discovered Carbon Nation during his final year in the Army, in South Korea. His job was administrative, which left him with hours to fill. “I was on Facebook and YouTube a lot,” he says. “The YouTube algorithm was suggesting a lot of conspiracy videos, and those videos progressively got more intriguing and extreme.” (Bishop’s channel has since been taken down, “following off-platform behavior that is harmful to YouTube’s community,” a spokesperson says.)

Dixon grew up biracial in rural Georgia, estranged from his father, in a community where he “wasn’t white enough for the white kids and wasn’t Black enough for the Black kids.” His mother died when he was 15. After that, he bounced between living with relatives, couch surfing, and occasionally sleeping in his car. The military had given him stability, but he was discharged after being diagnosed with a “major depression disorder.” Dixon searched for something or someone to connect to, and he found Bishop online.

When he arrived in Belize, though, he was taken aback by what he saw. “Something happened between Eligio and Velvet Marquez, and he slapped her. Nobody reacted. It was almost as if it was normal.”

Marquez was in Carbon Nation for nearly four years and has a daughter with Bishop. She’s said she endured years of his abuse. During his rape trial, she testified about an incident on July 4, 2020. “He ordered everybody in the group to make a circle around me so he could beat me inside the circle,” Marquez said on the stand. “He picked me up and kept slamming me on the ground.” (Marquez declined to comment for this story.)

One member who witnessed it was shocked. “The man literally picked her up by the neck, strangled her, and dangled her until she dropped to the ground,” she says. “When she passes out, he starts kicking her in the stomach. Then he puts his knees on her shoulders and starts punching her all over her chest and face. She’s crawling, trying to get herself up. He beat her to a pulp. Then he buys Chinese food afterwards, and everyone eats like nothing happened.” The following month, at Bishop’s insistence, he and Marquez were legally married in Las Vegas alongside three other couples from Carbon Nation.

Other women also allege they suffered violent treatment from Bishop. As Musa recalls, “If you were his wife, you pretty much had an agreement: ‘If you disrespect me, I’m going to put my hands on you.’”

Courtney Townsend, who goes by Soular and joined up in Palenque, says Bishop constantly abused the women. “We’d end up having these meetings that would last six, eight hours, where he’s explaining why he’s locking Velvet in a room, why he had to slap her,” he says. “His explanation was that we’ve been programmed by European men to be weak little men, so our women will never respect us. The women will respect him, and he’s the guy slapping these girls, locking them in rooms.”

In a livestreamed conversation between Bishop and Marquez’s father in May 2019, her father asks why he hit her. “Because I was upset with her,” Bishop says.

“She made you bust her in her face, her nose bleeding profusely everywhere?”

“I’m going to tell you this, Pops,” Bishop responds. “When it comes to me, I’m a man.”

The group’s online viewers have consistently reported suspected abuse within the cult to local authorities. In March 2019, Mexican police visited the property in Palenque. Video of the encounter shows an investigator asking the group questions as they line up on the steps outside of the house. As Musa recalls, “The next day, we literally left and drove to Nicaragua.”

Not much changed in Nicaragua. In late June, police raided their house there and arrested Bishop. He was held for three weeks, then deported. He returned to Central America, this time to Panama, where the pattern repeated: Arrested. Jailed. Deported.

When Covid hit in the spring of 2020, the group relocated to the Big Island of Hawaii. It seemed perfect — tropical but without the threat of deportation. But soon after arriving, Bishop and 20 followers were arrested for violating the state’s quarantine rules. After a stint in jail, Bishop pleaded no contest and was sentenced to 90 days. The sentence was suspended as long as he and his followers agreed to leave Hawaii.

“So, we basically got deported from Hawaii,” Dixon says, “which is hard to do.”

The Modern-Day Cult

In many ways, Carbon Nation turns the traditional image of a cult — shadowy, operating outside of modern society — on its head. The group was all over the internet, battling it out with its critics on social media. But according to Steve Hassan, a psychotherapist and cult expert, they’re part of a new wave. “Cults have gone online,” he says. “That’s where they’re principally recruiting and indoctrinating.

Janja Lalich, a sociologist who specializes in cults and extremism, has seen the same trend. “Internet-based cults got a big boost during the pandemic,” she says. People can initially get indoctrinated quietly, staring at their phone or laptop, safe from others’ judgment. Many go no further, content to remain on the outer ring of followers, as so-called fringe members. At its height, Carbon Nation likely had hundreds if not thousands who fell into this category.

According to Lalich, there’s one consistent trait among those who join cults, online or otherwise: idealism.

“It’s people who want to make a better world, have a better family, find a better religion, make more money,” she says. In Bishop’s case, he packaged a lot of contemporary concerns and targeted a population uniquely poised to hear his message.

“Bishop Is Capturing An Audience That’s Starving For This Type Of Spirituality.”

“He’s capturing an audience starving for this type of spirituality,” says Coleman, who runs the YouTube channel following the group. Over the past decade, she says, “within the Black community, a lot of us were going through a spiritual awakening. New Age spirituality was on the rise.” The broad sweep of Black history — marked by grave injustices and systematic discrimination — can make someone offering a way to explain and overcome that history appealing.

“There’s things he’s saying that appeal to a broad group of Black people, and some white people, people vulnerable to poverty and the ways in which capitalism has made it impossible to eat healthy,” says Clark University’s Power-Greene. Carbon Nation’s message was a huge draw online. Coleman began following their exploits in 2018. Her channel, which now has nearly 40,000 subscribers, is part of a constellation of YouTube channels and social media hubs that track the conscious community. Many of the community’s prominent figures have built sizable platforms. Sa Neter, who frequently interviews conscious-­community leaders, has more than 200,000 subscribers to his YouTube channel, House of Konsciousness. Umar Johnson, an outspoken Pan-Africanist and psychologist, has more than a million Instagram followers. Rappers like Arcaze, Daylyt, and Fr33Sol have amassed hundreds of thousands of social media followers.

Of course, the vast majority of these conscious-community figures aren’t leading cults, breaking laws, or condoning anyone who is, but there’s an openness to unconventional beliefs and conspiracy theories that the more predatory characters take advantage of. Rashad Jamal, the former rapper who leads the University of Cosmic Intelligence and is now serving 18 years on child-molestation charges, has repeatedly cast his prosecution as persecution.

“The only law I’ve broken is speaking out against oppression,” Jamal said on the UCI’s YouTube channel last January. “They don’t like niggas that do that.… The only thing I’m guilty of is freeing the minds of my people and speaking out against this system.”

During my first call with Bishop, he lights up at the mention of Jamal. “You know COINTELPRO?” he asks. “That’s real. Stop the rise of a Black messiah. The idea of a Black man becoming intelligent, then grouping everybody together and making them turn against the system. Look at what I was doing: I had influence over people.”

COINTELPRO was, in fact, real. Between 1956 and 1971, the FBI had a covert program to undermine individuals and organizations it deemed radical that targeted Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, and Fred Hampton, among others. One explicit goal, as detailed in a 1968 memo, was preventing “the rise of a messiah” who could unify Black nationalists. Bishop has repeatedly leaned into this history, conflating his situation with those of vaunted Civil Rights leaders, and blaming criticism or law enforcement on shadowy forces colluding to silence him.

“What you see happening with all these Black leaders from that time is exactly in congruence with what’s going on with my chief today,” says Edgar Bright, who’s still loyal to Bishop and goes by Jax. “The powers that be designed a whole system to stop the rise of a Black messiah.”

Coleman says she understands the impulse to draw these parallels, but they don’t hold up to scrutiny. “It’s disingenuous to compare those guys to Fred Hampton or Malcolm X, because those guys don’t have sex charges. I know it’s hard for people because they’ve got to blame somebody for all these different men who have the ability to move large groups of Black people, so they say, ‘They took him down because he was too controversial.’ But the government didn’t set them up to commit these crimes. That’s their own doing.”

Bishop and other members of the group made regular appearances on social media, where they amassed large followings. Courtesy Of Carbon Nation

Fact Versus Fiction

As Carbon Nation bounced from Hawaii to California and then to Las Vegas in 2020, the ideological messages once so prominent in their videos were increasingly buried beneath a surreal, debauched montage: members slapping each other, a brawl on the beach between Bishop’s wives. Bishop would berate followers or stoke conflict on livestreams tagged as “Real Nigga Moments.”

He explains away some of the drama as part of a psycho-spiritual healing process. “What you’re watching is shadow work,” he says during one of our calls. Much of the rest, he claims, is a strategic bait and switch. “I utilized that to get people’s attention. Behind the scenes, the guys knew we were acting.”

There were financial incentives, too. The $300,000 Goss had donated years earlier was long gone, as was Goss. Money came in from other members. Dixon received a monthly disability check from the VA, which he gave to Carbon Nation. Another ex-military member also regularly donated disability pay. Others received Social Security or unemployment that went into the pot. Members also applied for food stamps and donated Covid stimulus payments. They solicited donations from online supporters, too. According to Townsend, many of the men regularly hit up women outside of the group for money. “Say we need to go somewhere and we’re short $200. I’ll hit up one of my girls and be like, ‘You got space for 600 this month? Just send me 200 right now.’ This is their way of proving their loyalty from a distance.”

The Singapore-based social media app Bigo Live paid members to stream over their platform. “That’s how we were eating — off the internet and donations,” says Shaka Calvin, a.k.a. Shaka Zulu, who spent several months in Carbon Nation. “That’s when it would really get bad because [Bishop] started becoming a celebrity. They were all having to do things to get attention, to get money.”

The line between reality and fiction blurred. “All the stuff, us acting crazy, being militant, the fights, we’d tell people it’s just a show,” Townsend says. “It wasn’t. That stuff was happening off camera, too. These women were actually getting abused. At a certain point, it was no longer acting. He never stopped.”

Beginning of The End

In early 2020, Jenaé Newell was 25 and working at Tassili’s, the same Atlanta raw vegan restaurant whose menu Bishop had tacked up in his bedroom when his journey as Natureboy began. She’d followed Carbon Nation online for years and had built her own small following, posting her artwork and music, offering tarot-card readings, and discussing many of the same spiritual concepts they did. The cult had recently relocated to the Atlanta area, and Newell connected with members at Tassili’s.

“I loved them,” she says. “I believed they were my frequency family, which was what he preached, people of like minds coming together on a common mission to elevate the consciousness of the Earth.”

When Newell first joined, she says, Bishop was “a teddy bear,” but she wasn’t attracted to him. Over time, their relationship evolved. “He was a teacher, then a friend, then after some time, he tried to make me his lover and wife.”

The night of March 27, 2022, there was a small party at the house the group was living in on a suburban cul-de-sac in Dekalb County. Newell testified that after Bishop chastised her for disrespecting him, one of Bishop’s wives, Jayon Marie Hamilton, who goes by Zoca, punched her multiple times. Bishop told Newell to leave. She packed her bags and when she walked out to her Uber, Bishop called to her from upstairs. She returned and joined him, alone, in a bedroom.

According to testimony at the trial, Bishop told Newell he wanted to have sex with her “one more time.” She repeatedly said she didn’t want to. At one point he said, “I’m not going to rape you.” She froze. “I didn’t want to be raped.… I said, ‘OK. I’m going to do this one last time.’” Early the next morning, Newell quietly left the house and never returned.

After her departure, Bishop reposted videos on social media of himself and Newell having sex. Newell reported this to the police as revenge porn, but made no mention of rape. In a later police interview, she said that “he made love to me” and that she “gave it to him” because she “still care[d] for him.”

Newell tells me she thinks about that night differently now. “When I heard the rape charge, I was like, ‘What? He never raped me,’” she says. “But then they explained, ‘Jenaé, this is what rape is.’ I never thought that power dynamic was rape. After researching cults and cult leaders, I was able to understand that all he did was rape us. It was a culture of rape in Carbon Nation.”

When Bishop stood trial for raping Newell, two other ex-members testified that he raped them too, though he was never charged. Bishop denies the allegations.

“He obviously didn’t think he raped me,” Newell says. “But he has been doing that for years. That’s what makes him dangerous. He doesn’t know the wrongs he’s doing and doesn’t admit to them. He thought because I said yes one time after a million no’s, it was OK. It wasn’t.”

Bishop sits in court in 2024 on charges of rape, false imprisonment, and revenge porn. Dennis Byron

Life After Carbon Nation

Bishop was arrested at the house outside of Atlanta on April 13, 2022. He was denied bond and remained incarcerated until his trial began last February. During that time, Carbon Nation began to crumble.

Townsend, Musa, and Palmer left within a week of his arrest. Dixon hung on until September, by which point he was living in his car, showering at a nearby Planet Fitness. His wife, whom he’d met in Carbon Nation, had already left with their child, but it took him time to reintegrate into society. “I’ve had to unlearn a lot of habits and belief systems I’d adopted,” he says.

That’s been true for many former members. Some have joined other groups, becoming what Lalich calls “cult hoppers.” Many still believe in Bishop’s teachings, even if they’ve lost faith in Bishop himself. Townsend and Marquez attempted at one point to relaunch Carbon Nation with themselves as leaders. “Why should we let one guy ruin what was changing the world?” Townsend says. The project didn’t take.

Musa currently lives in Puerto Rico and says that after taking psychedelics “that bleached my mind,” he’s been able to gain perspective. “The way I look at it, I’m not any different than him. I don’t see anybody in the group that’s different or better than him.”

The day I spoke with Newell, she’d just returned from applying for a job as a restaurant server. “I’m trying to get my life together,” she says. “I’m a single mother, so I’m doing what I have to do to get where I need in life.”

For others, the path out has been darker. Amaar Jawaid, who went by Loyal, left about a month after Bishop’s arrest and, according to Dixon, took with him money, cellphones, and hard drives that belonged to the group. Jawaid was a Canadian whose father had died when he was young. He’d spent much of his life searching for belonging and had joined Carbon Nation at 18.

“He looked at Eligio as a father figure,” Townsend says. On March 6, 2023, police in Oshawa, Ontario, responded to a house fire and found Jawaid’s body. The death was ruled a homicide. Three people have been charged with second-degree murder. “I watched this kid go from a neutral guy to thinking he’s a gangsta,” Townsend says. “This is what ended up getting him killed.”

By the time Bishop’s case went to trial, Carbon Nation’s core membership numbered barely more than a half dozen. On the trial’s opening day, Bishop wore gold-rimmed glasses and a blue paisley blazer over a white turtleneck and white pants. Before testimony began, the state offered Bishop a plea, 30 years, with the rape charge reduced to aggravated assault. He declined.

Over four days, the prosecution called ex-members to the stand, including Dixon, Townsend, Newell, and Marquez. Several Carbon Nation die-hards testified in Bishop’s defense, but didn’t seem to help his cause. One of his wives, Iyah, admitted under oath to posting revenge porn. Another member, Juliano Diaz, who goes by Juju, was ejected from the courtroom by the judge when he lingered on the stand after his testimony concluded to declare Bishop was being “maliciously prosecuted.”

The verdict came in on March 1, after a six-day trial: guilty on all counts. At the sentencing hearing later that day, Bishop stood in his orange prison jumpsuit, handcuffed, and addressed the judge directly. “I see what y’all are doing, and I want you to know I forgive you,” he said. “And I still love you.”

A few minutes later, just before announcing his sentence, the judge spoke from the bench, calling Bishop a “master manipulator” and “the classic definition of a narcissist.”

“I would’ve been inclined to show some discretion if Mr. Bishop had shown any remorse, guilt, or regret throughout this process,” she said. She sentenced him to life without the possibility of parole, plus 10 years.

Bishop claims he was maliciously prosecuted, and insists, at the very least, he was oversentenced. “That’s been happening to Black men for a long time,” he tells me.

In an email, Kay Levine, an Emory law professor who studies sentencing, described the sentence as “excessive to me for the crimes and the number of counts (and the lack of force); I’d be surprised if other rape defendants in Dekalb have received something so extreme under more severe circumstances.”

A spokesperson for the Dekalb County DA noted the potential punishments for rape in Georgia range from 25 years up through the death penalty. “Our office asked the judge for a sentence of life without parole. We believe that’s appropriate.”

As Newell sees it, “They put him away for the totality of everything. It wasn’t just for me. What about the other victims, the people that never came forward?”

In August, Bishop was transferred to Macon State Prison. On his first full day there, he was stabbed. He was briefly hospitalized then returned to his cell. Prison officials described his injuries as “non-life-threatening,” but Iyah tells me Bishop suffered a collapsed lung. (Georgia Department of Corrections officials didn’t respond to multiple requests for information.) Macon State curtailed Bishop’s phone access, and since then, he’s been largely incommunicado.

During a previous conversation, Bishop told me he has no money to mount an appeal. “I know I’m going to be exonerated, but I don’t know how. God isn’t going to let me sit in here. I’m too valuable to humanity.”

In recent months, the remaining members of Carbon Nation have rebranded themselves Imagine Nation, which feels oddly appropriate for a group that at this point merely reflects its leader’s warped psyche. As Dixon puts it, “Carbon Nation is over. We’re just waiting for them to realize that.”

The disillusionment Bishop tapped into remains very real.

“What Natureboy was trying to do is get these Black kids to see that the trick is being stuck here in America,” says Shaka Calvin. “Because I didn’t feel like America was giving me ­anything. They take, take, take, take, and take. I feel like I’m crazy if I’m in a situation where I’m trying to make peace and I’m getting took.”

But in the end, whether Bishop was ever earnest or was always running an elaborate con is beside the point for Dixon. He and many others bought in.

“It was very hard for me to accept that Carbon Nation was a joke,” he says, “and that for the last four years, I’ve literally been following behind a clown who has been putting on a show for people.”

[matt-is-me]

Flirting with a sub while their mind is blank is one of the hottest things you can do as a tist.

It's all so hot. The way their demeanor changes upon hearing you call them adorable, the absent-minded showing off when you make a comment on how a certain body part looks. The rolling eyes, and their moans, and their mumbled "thank you" after any sort of compliment, their brains breaking from all the praise they're recieving.

The most arousing part, however, is seeing their self esteem change. A lot of people are self-concious, or have trouble calling themselves cute. But when they're hypnotized, their minds mold to your words, turning even the most self-deprecating subs into whimpering toys, mindlessly telling you about how cute they are and how pretty they feel~

And if there's one thing subs really deserve, it's the knowlwdge that they are all really cute and pretty, especially when they're moaning all their thoughts away <3

[firebreadtroy]

ok what does dream mean when its me running from the cops

[hansolen-archive]

beneath the light of a neon moon

꩜ pairing ⇾ beast!dazai x reader

꩜ word count ⇾ 3.5k

꩜ summary ⇾ this is basically just dazai being a wet cat and unable to understand yet overanalyzing his attachment towards you through all the world’s that exist in the book. he’s just a lil weird about it.

꩜ author’s note ⇾ i missed him. there’s no other explanation. beast dazai needs more love 💔 i think dazai having beef with himself through all the worlds is very real and very true. this is nothing but the outcome of the visions that plagued me.

꩜ cw ⇾ slight yandere vibes i won’t lie.. but c’mon it’s dazai so that’s to be expected. some possesive behaviour might come up. slight spoilers for beast if you haven’t finished the ln/manga/movie, though nothing too major. if anything else needs to be tagged lmk!

ability description — the reader’s ability stays active 24/7 and it does take a toll on her. while i haven’t gone into too much detail of what it really does (maybe more in the future, since i have a lot of ideas for it lol) but the ability holds a similarity to that of arahabaki — it too is an entity. not really a god but something more sinister. reader is basically a concious host of that entity which lays dormant.

If Nakahara Chuuya — one of the top most executives of the Port Mafia, is called the left hand of the boss; then it goes without saying that you are the right hand. Just as scary, sometimes even worse. 

If Chuuya is the hurricane that destroys towns after towns with its howling whirlwinds, then you are the tsunami that envelopes everyone entirely. Once and for all — like an oppressive silence. And yet it’s commonly accepted that destruction is prevalent regardless of which hand the boss chooses to use. 

Everyone knows that the hands of the devil reach far and wide. Must be nice having two vessels of otherworldly entities on the tips of his fingers, they all murmur. And yet no one seems to mention how hard it is to actually maintain them, Dazai can’t help but think to himself.

Everyone in Yokohama can see the large and daunting building from wherever they stand, yet no one glances at it twice as they go through their day. A wise choice, by most. It’s sleek and definitely suspicious, neither the civilians nor the government officials ever directly mention it — in public, that is. Hushed whispers can only be so silent.

The boss of the Port Mafia resides at the top most floor of the main building. Anyone who has ever had the (dis)pleasure of being called up, for whatever reason it may be, knows for a fact that the silence on that floor is deafening. Except for when a certain red haired executive comes around, then one can hear bickering reach far and wide. But that wasn’t always the case, much like today.  

The only sound that could be heard along the entire floor was that of your heals clicking against the cold marble tiles. After two knocks against the large doors, you enter Dazai’s office. You hand him the papers — strict and professional, like you ought to be. You’re a sub-executive afterall. By your own choice, of course. You had been offered the executive position far too many times, and yet you always declined. Harshly too, much to Chuuya’s disdain. 

He was unable to comprehend it the first few times, and he even tried to knock some sense into you. He wanted you to understand that you were far too deep into this side of the world to continue thinking that you couldn’t cross a ‘certain’ line. You shouldn’t keep trying to balance your way as you continue to stride on the thin thread that separates the civilian world from the mafia one. You’re in too deep, and have done too much to continue acting as though you have a way out. 

But your only response was a soft hum, which frustrated him even further. Perhaps more at himself than at you. You both were well aware that neither of you ever had a choice, no matter what the circumstances may be. No matter which road you chose, the destination always ended up here.

Although if Dazai willed it, you would be given the executive title in a minute. Whether you wanted it or not. Instead, he allows you to relish in the feeling of being able to make a choice. Some part of him, deep inside his fucked up sense of self — tainted by the shades of blood and things far darker — he almost feels like he owes this to you, at the very least. Even if it’s just for the sake of maintaining what remains of your moral integrity — your sanity, even.

Not that it changes much, you already perform all the executive duties as far as protocol is considered. Including being present in the meetings, guiding troops and having your own faction within the Port Mafia. It’s generally accepted by the entire organisation that you are equal to the executives, if not something more — to the boss, that is. 

Dazai allows you to have a feeling of distance from the work that you do, the lives that you take, the sins that he makes you commit. Letting you wallow in the false sense of security that you could choose to step away any time. Somehow it leaves you a little sane and gives him a little more room to play with. Afterall, no one would enjoy a completely broken doll. 

He enjoys humouring you from time to time. As if this whole play wasn’t written by him. As though he hadn’t willed every single interaction on this path into motion. As if he wasn’t the devil’s advocate, whispering the sins you were to commit with his hypnotising voice. 

He needed you with him on this path. It was all for the plan he had threaded together, he tried to convince himself.

The plan, yes. But Dazai is well aware that isn’t entirely true. And sometimes, a paranoid part of him thinks that you do too. Know for a fact that more than any of the plans — he did this for himself. He brought you and caged you into this world carved out of sin just for his own selfish reasons.

Not for Oda, not for the book, not for the sustenance of the world or any of those idealistic reasons — but for himself. Afterall, he was never an idealistic man to begin with. He was just a boy when it all started. A boy who had given up far too much and for once, wanted something for himself. He wanted you.

And so he did. He kept you. Weaved you into his spiderweb of grand plans. He often thinks back to how he knew everything there was to know about you, before he even got the chance to meet you for the first time. There you stood under the cold harsh lighting of that deserted old lab. He remembers how the flashes of his other lives played all at once. It almost felt as though he was reliving the memories through the sparks of light.

It was making him sick. Being able to witness in such excruciating detail of how he got to hold you so tenderly, in those worlds from the book. It made him feel intense emotions that he couldn’t even begin to describe. All he could do was just glance at those memories that were undoubtedly his own — and yet felt like he was watching them dance through the other side of a glass door. They’re all so painfully clear and yet there is a huge barrier in between.

Dazai has always been well aware that he never should have brought you into this. He knows that he shouldn’t have tried to find some sort of replica of the emotions he felt, as he replayed all his other lives. But he just couldn’t help it. He has to keep you alongside him. Hadn’t he sacrificed enough in this life? You’ve been so good to all the other versions of him, can’t you treat him the same in this one? You’ll forgive him, right? You love him, right?

You have to. There’s no other way out.

𓇚

Dazai’s mind undoubtedly wanders back to the first time you fainted from his touch. He knew it was going to happen — saw it as a staple part of you both meeting in all those worlds from the book. 

He knew what was to come if he were to let his rough bandaged palm even slightly graze your warm one. You’d faint. Like you had in all the other worlds, of which he carried the heavy weight. Those memories all helped him create acute plans for this world. Yet, the ones that he cherished the most, the memories that weren’t a heavy burden to carry but instead some sort of salvation — the ones he replayed over and over again like a broken record in hopes to reach some sort of comfort — were the memories he shared with you. 

In every world, your first meeting was something special, he kept those memories safely. Back when he was younger and the light in his eyes had not yet been entirely consumed — he used to find himself wondering how you both would meet in this world. How differently would it play out? It helped him distract himself from his surroundings and the heavy responsibilities. Those memories often flooded his mind as he gazed into nothing. In all of them, you always fainted when he first touched you. And after that too. 

But, in all his other lives, it lessened over time, and eventually the fainting stopped. “It feels rather relaxing,” you had once said to him — in the original world. To the original version of him.

“It feels as though The Presence subdues for a bit, as if it were never there. Continue holding me like this, won't you?” you spoke to him so gently as you both layed on top of each other with his trenchcoat covering the both of you. It held so much comfort and warmth, like it was just you both in this world, rest all be damned. Dazai wished that adoration was directed to him and not the man of origin.

His heart aches at the thought. What could he do for you to talk to him the same in this world too? What would it take? 

In all the other worlds — with time, you ended up building some sort of immunity, or rather you got used to his touch and even craved it. In every single world. Every world of the book, but this one.

You never seemed to have gotten used to his touch in this world. You still fainted. Every. Single. Time. 

𓇚

Dazai hates it. He’s well aware of the fact that this world is special — after all it’s the only one where Oda ends up living. It’s a world that has been handcrafted by him alone. Each and every thread has been woven with a purpose in mind. Each action has a motive behind it. Which is exactly why he needs to sustain it. Yet he can’t help it — the jealousy that fumes within him. Jealous of himself? Such a stupid reason. He knows that and yet—

“Boss, here’s the report of on the foreign mercenary group that recently surged up, as you requested. I have sent my men to look through their abandoned hideout, although I’m sure you can already imagine the outcome.” you say as you hand him the files.

Dazai doesn’t quite understand why you continue to put up the professional facade when it’s just the two of you here. Yet, he decides to humour you.

He glances at files with mild disinterest, and then at your hand. A thought occurs in his head — among many others. It’s indulgent. Entirely so. You will not enjoy it one bit. And yet he’s also well aware of his track record of never really listening to what you want. He knows this will hamper a few upcoming tasks and meetings. But when has he ever given a damn about those? And so he decides to indulge himself. He takes the report from your hands in a smooth motion and accidentally brushes the tips of his fingers against yours.

It’s a brief touch, and it all happens in the flash of a second. You noticed it, he realises. You saw his intent building up and yet you still offered to hand him the files rather than just placing them on his desk. 

His ability is always active, as is yours. You lose consciousness in seconds.

And you fall.

Right into his arms, like he planned you would. He glances at your face, there’s a serene glow emanating from you. Something about you is always pulling him in. He’s well aware of how you both are so intervened in each other’s lives that perhaps it was fated. Maybe he’s not entirely to blame for everything, or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on his part.

You look so relaxed like this, he thinks as he adjusts the both of you so that you can lay down in a more comfortable position. It’s often underestimated how tiring it must be to have the ability active at all times, especially one that is as draining as yours.

Perhaps, this could be an escape for you as well. Laying with him as both of your breathing falls into sync with one another. Or maybe he’s just cheating and controlling his heartbeat as he tries to come up with some valid excuse as to why he gave into his impulse. All while he continues to trace your face with his thumb. It’s a gentle motion, making sure to not disturb your slumber, though he doubts you’ll wake up from it. Your track record shows that you’ll usually be knocked out for the better half of the day.

The expression on your face is something he wishes to dissect. You look as though you’re in some dream far away from here. He wonders where you go when you lose consciousness. Will you ever take him with you? Doesn’t matter. He will follow you just the same. 

Dazai can’t help but wonder what you would do if you found out about other worlds. Worlds where you weren’t led to such a life. Where he didn’t turn you into a weapon for his own motives. Would you hate him for it? When you are made to face all the other versions of you — the much happier, and brighter versions. Where in the light from your eyes hasn’t been entirely extinguished yet. 

Dazai fears that you already know. Can’t help it when you both hold eye contact during brief meetings. At times he catches a glimpse of the space — somewhere in there — that he cannot reach. They often say that the devil’s arms reach far and wide, and yet he can’t help but feel there’s a large distance that he alone can’t cover, in his quest to reach you. (Dazai also knows that he is no devil. It has alwaye just been a title that was handed to him. He wonders if you know that, too.)

Afterall, you, too, have the look of someone who is hiding something. He understands the expression well enough — he has to meets those eyes every day in the mirror.

𓇚

That’s one of the many reasons he prefers you like this. With your eyes closed and breathing steady. You don’t give him the all knowing gaze, that you usually carry. He gets to hold you close, without it eating him up from the inside. Some sick part of him likes having this power over you. Being able to hold it above your head any time he likes. He would never use it against you though. Not really.

Your breathing is rhythmic. A constant motion. He has memorised your breathing pattern over the years. To the point where it’s almost comforting to listen to it. Almost.

His hand hovers from your cheeks to sliding right at the base of your neck. Something swells inside of him. Something sinister. He can’t help but feel a little drunk. Drunk over the control he has over you right now — your life. He can continue to feel as guilty as he likes, but it’s no secret what exactly he’s guilty of.

Dazai gently steadies your head and moves it so that it’s resting on his chest. He then tries to bring his focus back to the papers that continue to lay on his desk, and then glances at the ones that fell on the floor. Lord knows how much that slug would nag him if he didn’t finish reading these by now. So annoying.

He tries to push his focus on reading them, but the comfort of having you so close against him is really distracting. It’s contrasting, really, how your body spreads such warmth against his cold one. Like a single candlelight that continues to glow in the cold stark night.

You both should do this more often, he thinks. Though you might end up hating him for it. But that won’t be an issue in the near future, considering what’s to come — the plans written in the book.

What will be an issue is Chuuya barging through the black doors and seeing you both in such a precarious position — then he might proceed to quite literally kill Dazai. No matter if he’s the boss of the Port Mafia or not.

Afterall, Chuuya is probably the closest companion you have in this world. You both make sure to look out for one another as much as you can. It’s almost as if you both have this air of understanding, that Dazai often feels disconnected from. 

Is it because you both are vessels? Or because he uses you both similarly and keeps you both on leashes? Or is it some form of familial bonding that his emotional nerve receptors are far too fused out to understand? 

Dazai doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that you don’t necessarily hate him. That you never did. He doesn’t know that you let him do as he wills. He doesn’t know that no matter how much he thinks of himself as the ‘mastermind’ it’s you who handed him the reins. The one that held the other end of the leash that was hung on your neck and placed it right into the palm of his hands.

𓇚

“Men will be men,” The lady in the white lab coat had once said to you. 

“They shall always believe that they were the ones who invented the wheel. They shall always come close to calling themselves ‘creators’ of it all. They do not understand.”

Neither did you, back then. All you could really remember were the sparks she sent flying towards you — no mercy.

To those people in the lab coats that stood behind the glass — observing you like you were some lab rat and noted down the reactions your body gave out cynically — you weren’t some kid. Not some seven year old that probably should’ve been playing in park with kids her age or discussing the latest episode of some show that always aired at six in the evening.

No, you were just a vessel. A means to an end. That’s all you were as they watched you writhing through the glass, taking in the after effects of the electricity coursing through your veins. Sometimes, you still feel the sparks travelling through your body and the night repeats. This time — it’s in your head. Yet it hurts all the same.

But what that lady didn’t understand was that Dazai was no man. He never felt like one, at the very least. No matter how many masks he puts on to fill in the gaps of self — that one hollow part of him never fills up. He’s afraid it never will.

He never felt connected to those around him — to humanity. The best he could have had was Oda, and he didn’t exactly get to experience that in this world. So, as a self preserving tactic, he tries to form some scrappy sense of comfort with what's left for him and take it from you instead. Some part of him felt like you know this too, and let it happen.

In some wild way it’s fitting, he thinks. It makes sense that this world was meant to be special. It’s the only one where Oda will be able to continue living and eventually write that novel. It’s the only one where Dazai will finally fulfill his long running wish. It only makes sense that there are innumerable amount of exceptions.

Not only are the shin-soukoku switched and roles have been exceptionally reversed, new anomalies continue to rise up as days go by. That’s part of the reason why he decided to make you part of the Port Mafia. To deal with those anomalies efficiently, since your ability was perfect to cut through them all. 

𓇚

If anyone were to barge in right now, they would be greeted with an extremely bizzare sight. The boss of Port Mafia, one of — if not the most feared man in Yokohama — gazing gently at you as his dark figure envelopes you completely. In some humourous way it almost looks like a black cat holding it’s prey close, making sure it doesn’t get snatched.

He likes it, he supposes. The way you look so serene in the low lighting of his office. How your head rests right next to his bandaged heart. He adores the way you your lips settle into a soft pout in your sleep. You seem much more honest with your expressions when you’re asleep than when you’re awake. You look so inviting, he just can’t help himself.

He’s in too deep — you’ve had to have put him under a spell of sorts. There’s no other logical explanation to the way you’ve made him do such illogical things. How could you have reduced him of all people — the demon prodigy and Mori’s successor into such a state? Since he was a child logic has been drilled into his very bones. Every strategy and it’s counter. The side of him that was built to be made a mafiaso has always been rational.

What he failed to take into account is that to you he’s just — Dazai. There’s no other valid explanation to how you’ve enamoured and caged his heart in the tender embrace of your palms, in every single world of the book.

So he gives in, he lets himself fall. He leans down to place a soft kiss onto your lips. With as much gentleness as he can muster up — given his disposition. It was supposed to be nothing more than a soft peck. What he didn’t see coming was how as your eyes began to flutter open and how you kissed him back.

© hansolen do not translate or repost anywhere else. reblogs n comments appreciated 💌

[mythicmanuscripts]

i just know that sub!aemond gets really embarassed the first time he properly moans during sex.. like he knows that «only weak guys does that» so he’s really self-concious about it, but after gettibg comfortable it’s ALL he does🤭

I love this!!! I’m always glad to write more soft subby and a little angsty Aemond.

NSFW sub!Aemond below the cut :))

So my first thought when I read this was actually about the time Aegon made Aemond lose his virginity at the brothel? Obviously we know he felt so exposed and vulnerable and never went back or slept with another person until he met you, but I think there’s more to it than that actually.

Obviously he’s nervous, and even though he’s scared it does feel good. He whimpers and moans a little and every time he does the brothel worker chuckles and calls him adorable? But she’s so patronising about it and it just makes Aemond even more uncomfortable.

He doesn’t even consider laying with another again before he meets. Obviously it’s an arranged marriage and he’s very stiff at first, but he gets comfortable and he realises you’ll always care for him and he just finds a safe space.

I think that once Aemond starts to relax and let his walls down, he tends to actually be quite a bit louder? I don’t mean just sexually. I mean when it’s just the two of you and he feels safe and loved then he tends to laugh a lot easier and louder, he’ll also whine more and hum more and just generally be much more expressive. He doesn’t speak as softly either.

As he relaxes he gets louder and he stops being put together. It’s something he doesn’t actually notice and you make a conscious decision not to mention this to him because you know he’ll retreat back into himself if he knew.

And because it takes weeks of just getting to know him and forming a bond before anything sexual happens, you encounter this louder relaxed version of Aemond way before you actually sleep with him. Sometimes he’ll walk into your shared quarters and when he removes his eye patch it’s like you can physically see the weight lifted off his shoulders. He’ll stand there for a moment and then smile wider than he ever does in public and come to join you on the couch or in bed.

When things to get sexual, Aemond struggles to not lose control. I don’t mean fighting you for dominance, because of course we all know he’d never want that, I mean that his head gets all fuzzy and he gets desperate and needy and he so badly wants to just relax against you and let you control him.

The first time you hear him moan is when you’re kissing him and straddling him? Aemond feels like he’s on cloud 9. He’s gripping your hips and panting into your mouth and overwhelmed in all the best ways. You grind your hips down against his crotch and he throws his head back and moans, shaking a little.

It’s quite possibly the hottest thing you’ve heard. But the moment he realises what he’s done he goes stiff and pushes you off. You sit next to him, asking him what’s wrong and he just mumbles he’s sorry and he didn’t mean to do that.

“Didn’t mean to what?” You ask him, pulling him closer and wrapping your arm around his shoulder, “Didn’t mean to feel good?” He blushes and burrows his head in your shoulder in response, clearly embarrassed.

You let it go this time, just letting him relax until he’s asking for more kisses. The make out session ends without much more happening.

The first time you touch his cock, he tries SO hard to stay composed? He’s literally shaking and grinding his teeth to stop himself from making sounds.

You aren’t having it this time though. You pull your hand away and make him look you in the eye and let him know that if wants your attention then he can’t hold back his sounds.

For the next few weeks it seems like every time you do anything sexual for him he only gets louder? Pretty soon he doesn’t even try to stop himself, letting himself whine and moan and beg.

[anoant-haikyuu-dump]

The Nekoma Guys as Guests on Kenma’s Streams

Kuroo: The most frequent guest, even though he’s super busy with JVA work he always finds time to drop in and say hello. He doesn’t stay for long but he’s there at least once a week. He mainly banters with chat and tells childhood stories when Kenma’s out of the room, sometimes he shows photos of them as kids and they become the channel’s top clips for the month. Kenma complains but he never takes them down sooo…. He definitely has little inside jokes and running bits with the fans.

Yaku: Rare guest since he lives in Russia, when he does swing by chat goes WILD. Yaku already has a pretty big fanbase from his pro vb career so the fact that Kenma knows him is so baffling to them. He can never stay for too long unfortunately, he’s got a packed schedule, but when he’s there he tells stories about Russia, volleyball, and whatever’s going on in his life.

Kai: Chat loves Kai!!! They cheer and spam hearts whenever he visits. As one of Kenma’s few normal non-famous friends he’s a breath of fresh air. He likes to share nature fun facts and show pictures of his garden, chat is SAT.

Tora: Chat’s favorite punching bag. They bully him relentlessly, mostly about how much free time he has, his hair, or his general idiocy. There’s an emote called kodzukenGuts thats just him screaming (spammed whenever he’s in frame or mentioned of course). He’s not really invited so much as he barges in whenever he’s bored, probably the second most frequent guest. One time they do a work out stream for reaching a sub goal and Kenma has such a miserable time that he bans Tora from his house for a month.

Fukunaga: He’s done a bit of streaming himself and has his own little online community, mostly from comedy sets that he posts on shorts and TikTok. Because of this the audience sees him less as one of Kodzuken’s friends and more as a content creator in his own right. Obviously they do cooking streams together, especially during Kenma’s subathons, and other food-related things like challenges or taste-tests. He’s also a beast as Jackbox, he's never lost a game of Quiplash.

Lev: Lev’s another popular guest since he’s a fucking model but being on stream shows a different side of him to his fans. From a maganize or billboard you can’t tell that Lev is a total doofus, so being broadcasted live where he can say whatever stupid shit comes to mind totally ruins the illusion of maturity and composure seen in his advertising work. At first his management panics and forbids him from appearing on stream to protect his reputation, but then they realizes that his goober personality made him more relatable so now they're chill with it. Not that Kenma wants him there but again, just shows up.

Inuoka: During Kenma's first subathon when he was still pretty small he called Inuoka to entertain chat while he took a nap. They ended up getting super attached to him and he started coming by more often. Letting Inuoka take over is like playing subway surfers in the corner of the screen. Never a dull moment when he's in charge, as someone who works with kids he knows how to keep an audience engaged (especially one as easily entertained as twitch chat lmao).

Shibayama: He'll tag along with Inuoka on occasion but rarely visits on his own. He's a bit shyer and very self concious about having so many eyes on him that he can't see back but he warms up to it eventually. One time someone recognizes him from his div.2 team and it completely makes his day, his first little celebrity moment.

Teshiro: Never appears on camera but there are hints that he's there whenever the other first years visit. Glimpses of grey hair in the corner of the screen, off-screen whispers from a voice no one can identify, mysterious shadows flickering in and out of frame, etc etc. Chat calls him the stream ghost and use him as proof that Kenma's house is haunted.

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (ii) - pt 1 here!!

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : matt is still a grumpy ass but y/n can't seem to get him off of her mind.

warnings : idk uhhh matt’s rude but in a love hate kinda way 😋! also alcohol/drinking (i headcannon everyone 21+!)

mickey speaks : shes finally hereeeee and shes kinda long. im hoping to post more consistently!! luv u guys enjoy <3 ignore the fact that the pic above has a yt girl in it this story is for everyone i promise !!!! i just liked the little green vibe ok? ok.

THIS IS PART TWO GO READ PART ONE FIRST DUH!!!!

AND of course you see matt again.

only a month ago, you were introduced and forced to spend an hour of your time in close proximity to him, no matter his disinterest. yet, also, only a month ago, were you gifted with the cutest tiny tattoo that continues to surprise you a little whenever you lift your shirt before a warm shower.

it hasn’t bothered you nearly as much as you'd assumed - only disrupting your life with the caution you now take to avoid irritating the skin at your lower stomach. though some nights you grow lazy, you’ve maintained a very disciplined attitude of incorporating time in your morning and nightly rituals to ensure the tiny hello kitty inked on you is properly cared for.

contrary, your interactions with matt bothered you far more than you assumed. your sub-concious must've held onto your attempts to break past his careless attitude (that greatly opposed your own people-pleasing nature) just to pettily haunt you. but you've you forced yourself to get over it at this point. you just had to after one night, the week following your tattoo appointment (and after a long day of rude professors and pretentious customers blaming you for their own mistakes), you broke down to andrea:

you sniffle before your voice breaks again, "everyone's just mean. and- and i was so fucking annoying last saturday. it keeps playing over in my head. i'm so embarrassed and i just know he hated me, but i dont know why?! i thought i was nice enough. he could've just smiled or maybe just- i-"

andrea pauses from petting your head, "honey, you're not still talking about the guy who tatted you, right?" you look up at her from your head's soft spot in her lap with glossy eyes and a quivering lip.

"dre-" you choke.

"oh my god! no! y/n, you can't take shit like that personal. not everyone enjoys talking or happiness for that matter, you can't hold on to something like that. i promise he's not too hung up on it himself." she wipes away one of your pitiful tears.

and here he is, standing across the room from you at a party.

you definitely did not expect to see matt (who’s mild attitude was clearly fueled by socializing) in this scene but you guess that la parties are just like that. as long as you know someone who knows someone you’re easily in, that's how you tend to get into these events at least. though an insta stalk would tell you matt has enough clout to get himself in, he and his brothers have built quite the brand for themselves among la socialites.

once your eyes spot him over the shoulder of some guy who just introduced himself to you, they can’t seem to move. you watch as matt smiles for a photo with a few others. matt. smiles. okay, so maybe it was a you problem. he doesn’t hate everyone maybe just you.

though, your thoughts are denied as quickly as his face drops. he doesn’t even care to look at how the image may have turned out like the rest of the group. instead, his eyes opt to watching the people around him as he sips his weak drink.

great, now you’ve become the weirdo watching him watch other people.

until his eyes catch your cautious yet curious stare from across the room. your cheeks heat and you’re immediately shifting your eyes back to the man in front of you.

matt almost smirks at his luck. no fucking way the scared sweetheart he’d tattooed just a few weeks ago is here. he looks away when someone lays a hand on his shoulder to bring him back into the conversation. you're surprised that he continues to look back over to you after adding his input.

the guy finally acknowledges your disengagement with the story about his new motorcycle and turns to see what exactly you’re staring at. he sees matt and turns back to you, “you know him?”

“yeah. well not like know-know we only met once, he gave me a tattoo.”

“oh, cool,” he looks back over to matt and turns back to you once again, “is he bothering you?”

your face scrunches initially, “no, it’s fine.” you smile at him, not wanting to give him the impression that matt did anything but exist (which apparently is enough to capture your attention).

“good. wanna go grab another drink and tell me more about this tattoo?” a charming smile morphs on face and you nod your head easily, taking his hand and leading him towards the bar outside of this large home. and away from matt.

“two-” you look over to the man beside you, “wait is this an open bar?” you ask him genuinely and he laughs a little at your aloofness.

“yeah,” he nods.

“perfect, we’ll take two kamikaze shots pretty please!” you smile at the bartender who seems to be enjoying her night quite a bit and squeeze his hand when you realize it’s still in your own. he looks down at your attached hands then back to you.

you turn your body to face him more directly and lean up to his ear, cupping your hand and whispering, “i’m so sorry, i think i forgot your name.” you were starting to feel bad and just had to confess.

you lean back and bite your lip to hide an awkward smile, and he somehow smiles harder than he already was, “it’s-”

“ashton!” you hear a voice yell hurriedly and now some dark haired guy is pulling him away from you and repeatedly saying “code red!” in his face. and suddenly, without any indication he’d enjoyed your short lived time together, he’s gone.

you try not to sulk but he was an attractive guy with easy conversation, so you at least hoped to get his number by the end of the night.

instead, you’re left leaning against the bar hoping those shots come around soon. you decide to update your friends on your night:

Y/N

cute guy lefttttt :(

REMI

noooooo he was so cute 😫

Y/N

don’t remind me

ANDREA

where r you now???

Y/N

outside bar, im waiting on shots

Y/N

come find me💔💔

your head shoots up from your phone when three guys practically ram themselves into the bar near you, a few people around them laughing obnoxiously.

"god damnit, chris! we said we were going slowly!"

"shhhh. you are so loud, matt!"

“excuse me, can we get some water? none of the sparkles or bubbles and shit, just water, please.”

“next time i'm speaking for myself! what if i wanted the bubbles?”

you lean your head a little to get a full view of the three recognizable faces. chris, with his arms dangled over his two brothers’ shoulders clearly obliterated and slurring his words (but excited to be there nonetheless). a blonde one, you haven’t gotten the chance to meet yet, with two nose piercings and a commanding voice. and matt, with his signature pout, even poutier now that chris’ weight is causing him to hunch over slightly. you guess you were bound to run into them.

you wonder if andrea was right in saying matt hadn’t held onto your exchange. you wonder if when he saw you earlier he remembered you for your friendly smile rather than your annoying nagging. or did he even remember you at all? did he only look at you because you were staring him down first? okay, where the fuck are those shots?!

“no way!" you hear chris’ voice screech upon recognizing you from across the bar, "y/n!?”

you look over and see him shockingly excited to see your face again. you smile in an attempt to not allow your nerves about matt get to you. you are never one to deny a conversation after all.

“oh my god! hi!” you reply as chris unwraps himself from his brothers and moves closer to you.

“how’s your tat treatin’ you?” his eyes express so much excitement he reminds you of a little kid. you’re very flattered to see someone feel so much emotion due to your mere presence.

“oh, it’s still so cute, no regrets so far. i love it.” you smile and he nods while you’re speaking.

he turns around and sees his brothers and a few friends remaining in the other side of the bar talking amongst themselves. “yo, get the fuck over here! why are you guys so far?” he encourages them with a hand wave.

you wave as well, trying not to be a total stranger- even if you are.

the blonde guy leads them over and hands chris a glass of water that must’ve been waiting on him.

“cheers,” chris smirks and takes a sip before a disgusted look takes over his face, “gross. my god! why do they make this shit so bland?”

the blonde boy rolls his eyes in amusement, mumbling, "just drink it," before approaching you kindly. "hey, i’m nick by the way."

“y/n, nice to meet you! i met chris and matt when i got my tattoo done at your shop a while ago.” you explain kindly.

before nick can get another word in a female voice is squealing, “you’re y/n?! hi, i’m asha, i don't know if your remember but we talked on the phone that one time!” a tanned girl with soft cheeks and dark loose curls moves herself in front of the boys.

“of course i remember, how could i forget that insane frog story? it's so nice seeing you in person finally!” you gush.

suddenly chris is beaming, “aww wait guys this is so cute! i’m feeling like we should all hug!” he nods to his brothers who are quick to shake their heads no.

“i don’t think..” nick starts.

“nooo! let’s hug!” chris argues and opens his arms wide gesturing for everyone to hug him.

౨ৎ

after sharing a very drunk and messy group hug you all continue to talk until chris finally blurts, "i gotta go pee so bad guys, " he laughs, "but i need people with me because if i walk in on someone puking, then what? i'll die from my severe" (its not severe at all) "emetophobia and no one will ever know?"

you and asha (who you've found is actually so similar to you) both laugh at his crisis.

matt just breathes a laugh.

"chris, there’s no reason to go further with the fear factor when no one said they wouldn't come with you. i’m coming, so you're not gonna die, let's go." nick shakes his head.

“you don’t understand, nick i would be dead and covered in- i can’t even say it, dude,” chris’ voice fades as they walk away.

"wait, i'll walk with you guys inside! 'm... getting cold out here!" asha suddenly says removing herself from your side and waving goodbye with a drunk smile.

"it's not cold at all, she's trippin'" matt speaks watching her run and practically jump onto nick, causing the three laugh while leaving the crowded yard.

you just shrug and lean onto the bar again, making eye contact with the bartender who looks as if she only just remembered your existence but also seems to mentally question where the other guy went and how you managed to replace him that quickly.

"are you always so nice about everything?" matt questions, leaning his forearms on the bar, still looking at you.

"what?" you look over to him now, feeling almost sick at his proximity.

he mocks you with a high tone in his voice, "'it's soooo nice to meet you! it's soooo nice seeing you!' it sounds exhausting, to be honest."

"didn't realize having manners got you jail time," you breathe.

"and i never said it did."

"well, i don't have to be nice to you if it bothers you so much," you shrug.

"aw, sunshine, you'd do that for me? you're too sweet." he almost laughs at his own sarcastic comment.

you lick your bottom lip out of habit, "why are you still here? don't you have friends you should be ignoring?" you hope he can't tell just how frustrated he's making you.

“you must think you know me.”

“i know you don’t like me.”

“wrong, again.” he smiles and points his finger at you.

“oh, you just don’t like anyone then?”

he glances away before responding, “what's the fun in telling you?”

you huff in defeat, wanting nothing more than those shots right now. though your subconcious hopes the bartender continues to prioritize her flirting customers over you just so you can continue this addicting back and forth with matt.

"you know, that’s the thing with people like you. you think everyone owes you everything." he shakes his head.

"people like me?” you scoff under your breath, “matt, why are you still here?"

he can pick out the offense in your tone, "oh shit, that was true? i was fucking with you, sunny!"

"you don't know anything about me," you laugh and shake your head.

"alright there are those kamikaze shots for you! so sorry about that major delay, honey!" the bartender sets the shots in front of the both of you and smiles at you apologetically.

"don't worry about it, thank you!" you hand her a spare five dollar bill from your back pocket.

when she's gone you finally notice matt's widened eyes.

"what's up with your face, now?"

"you gave her a tip for pouring you some rankydank, fuckin' low level shots after you've waited long enough for her to apologize?" he seems genuinely shocked.

"she only makes money off of tips," you roll your eyes, picking the shot up and gesturing towards the second shot for him to take.

"that's all you," he raises his hands towards his chest.

"oh my god, do it, matt."

he shakes his head and points to you, "you take your shot, sweetheart."

"i knew you wouldn't, pussy," you say under your breath before smirking as you down the alcohol you've been craving since you first saw his face.

upon your insult matt is immediately taking the shot along side you. and just as both of your faces adjust to the taste, matt's phone begins to vibrate.

he grabs it and you attempt to hide your own curiosity by asking the bartender for a lime to suck on (not daring to ask for alcohol again because you simply don't want to be hung up at this bar for any longer).

"yeah, yeah still here," matt plays with his bottom lip and looks down at you with your mouth full of lime. he thinks you look pretty adorable, especially under the blush pink fairy lights hanging above the bar. "'kay, i'll be quick. alright, nick. i will. bye."

he puts his phone away and wipes his mouth, "that shit was fucking vile, by the way."

"okay, drama queen."

"mhm," his face falters back into his usual pout, "well i gotta go, but, um, nick wanted me to invite you to this get together thing we host at the warehouse, it's in like a month but, you know, come if you want." he shrugs.

"tell him of course i will, but only because he asked." you smile sarcastically.

౨ৎ

ANDREA - 12:39 AM

y/n where are you we are both so confused rn help

ANDREA - 12:45 AM

hellooo????

ANDREA - 12:47 AM

GIRL WE'RE OUTSIDE AND WE DONT SEE YOU TF

Y/N - 1:06 AM

WHERE ARE U GUYS RN I JSUT SAW TATTOO GUY AGASSN IM LOSUNG MY MIND JUST A LUTTLE BIT

Y/N - 1:06 AM

I WAS AT THE OTHER OITSIDE BAR IN THE FRONT(?) YARD!!!!! but its ok im gonba find u guys

౨ৎ

a few days later matt comes across your instagram story, forgetting he had followed you in the first place. it was a picture of you and your friends from the same night he had seen you again. it's a simple mirror photo where you're all smiling but besides your soft skin and cute outfit, matt's attention focuses on frank ocean's pyramids playing over the story.

you see the notification later that day when you finally get time on your phone:

matthew.sturniolo liked your story

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

[adviceformefromme]

So here’s the thing, you’re chasing what exactly? What is your North Star? Is it crystal clear? Or are you just chasing a number? $10k a month? A successful career / business? What does that even mean for your soul? Chasing those things is masculine energy, connecting with feelings those things evoke is the feminine and when it comes to becoming magnetic, your heart is key magnetiser. And the heart needs to feel! It’s not enough to want to earn x amount every month, you have to connect with the feelings that money will bring. The dream trip to the safari lodge in Africa, hiking in the Italian Dolomites, weekly massages, having a driver, being a passenger princess over the daily slog of driving yourself. THESE. This is the energy you desire, it’s not that figure. It’s the life that figure brings you, and this is where you get to have fun, you get to imagine, you get to make a recording speaking your desires into existence, you get to play it every night before you fall asleep and re-programme your sub-concious mind. And the reason you’re so frustrated and stuck is because you’re focused on the lack, you’re wasting your days in your phone, not in your desired feelings, not in your dreams, not priming your nervous system to feel safe and comfortable with your wildest desires. So this is the work, this is what is going to put you back on track, and allows you get out of your own way so the money to support your dream life can effortlessly flow towards you!  

[thesoftestchains]

What would you do if a sub was getting you off then ruined you and tried to run away?

Oh god that would be so insufferably bratty! <3 If a sub wanted to get me riled up that would be the way to do it. I'd go absolutely feral and chase them, no more playful fun, but a vice-like grip on their arms, dragging them back to bed for the funishment they so obviously wanted. I'd tie them up so they don't have a chance to struggle free and take out their favourite toy, the one that always gets them off the hardest and start working on my revenge. I'd get them right to the edge only to take the toy away, denying them over and over and over again. I'm patient. I can go on for hours, especially when a bratty sub decides to play with fire and has to be taught a lesson. I'd ignore their whines, moans, attempts to plead with me, and eventually also their screams and curses. And when I'd decide it's time for the real funishment to start, I'd turn up the toy to the max, strap it firmly to their crotch and leave. Maybe I'd be just behind the door, listening to their moans of pleasure turning more and more panicky as they find out they have no escape? Or maybe I'd be gone, on a long walk or with friends? One thing is certain, I wouldn't be back soon, and I'd give them no comfort of a ticking clock, showing them how much time has passed since it all started. And only after I'd come back to a panting, barely concious mess I'd give them a chance to make up for what they did and get me off again <3

[tears0fsatan]

                ♰          ・        𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑!

✦ ⊹ ˚˖ warnings... nsfw! minors, ageless blogs and fem aligned do not interact, servant dom m!reader, sub perv!solomon, dub con, imbalanced power dynamic, oral (giving), edging, mindbreak kinda

 :¨·.·¨ ♥︎  a.n... sick in the head sol got me giggling like a schoolgirl hes such a neat lil freak

 #﹏𖣠ㅤHEART SHAPED HICKIES MASTERLISTㅤ. . . ㅤ !! ( ☠️ )

being the most powerful sorcerer humanity had ever seen, solomon had more than he could ask for. he was no short of money, fame, glory nor power and yet, a corner of his heart still felt empty. he had all he could've ever asked for and was in a position where at the slight raise of a finger, he could get even more. everyone that ever crossed his path bowed down to him with no questions ask, whether it was from fear or reverence he didn't care, but all of humanity adored him.

so when his newest manservant came along, bowing down with faux reverence, his interest was piqued. he saw the way you looked at him, with curiosity of why people thought of him so highly and refusal to believe in him blindly, he wanted to study you, find out why you had such defiance for higher authority.

that was why the sorcerer called on you more often than any of his other maids and servants, he wanted to see the way your face scrunched up in slight annoyance whenever he cheerily called on you, asking for the simplest and dumbest shit. it was also why he gave you a "special" uniform, one shorter and skimpier than the rest of your coworkers uniforms all for the sorcerer's gratification.

the grumbles you would whisper under your breath only served to turn him on, solomon wanted to see just how much he could get you to do while muttering curses. he loved to watch your cute behind as you tidied his clean room, putting things that were just a millimetre out of place back where they belonged. it was horribly time consuming and both you and the sorcerer knew that it was purely out of solomon's sick, twisted pleasure, but you were in no place to complain.

you could always feel the burning gaze on the back of your thighs every time you entered his room, the way the heated stare would trail upwards and scanned your body as though he could see right through your clothes made you feel self-concious, made you feel like you were prey. you knew very well the thoughts that crossed his mind when he openly stared at your exposed legs, the nasty thoughts a master shouldn't be having for his servant.

as long as the sorcerer did anything physical, you could handle it. the humiliation, the embarrassment, the dirtiness; it was nothing new to you, years of hardened experience made you apathetic to such feelings.

but of course, one day it did turn physical… sort of?

a small, fleeting touch grazed your back, one so soft and light you would've easily believed it was just your imagination had it not been for the smug expression on the sorcerer's face. it confused you to no end, the gap between the two of you was impossible to cross in the short amount that it took to touch you and you turning to look at him.

goosebumps broke out across your skin, the eyes he looked at you with burned with a brighter intensity than normal and for some reason, you couldn't tear yourself away. a feeling of defiance flared up within you, one that told you to put solomon in his place, to show him that he was no better than any other human who worked their ass off and to put him in his place.

you licked your chapped lips, brushing off the intimidation that rolled off him in waves and slowly inched closer towards him. he watched your every move like an eagle stalking its prey and you realised you were already damned when you found his heated gaze more exhilarating than menacing.

how you ended up on your knees with his cock in your hands remained a mystery, but the flush that coated his cheeks was far too much of a treat for you to pass up. the sorcerer didn't say a word, only watched you with unfocused eyes as if to taunt you to keep going and boy did it fire you up. you were determined to drag him down to your level, even if it meant going along with what he wanted in the first place.

it all paid off of course, the moment you kept eye contact with him as you pulled down his zipper with your teeth and a suppressed whimper crawled out from the back of his throat, you knew that you had made the right decision.

the second his dick was released from its tight confines, it bounced up and stood proudly against his lightly toned stomach, exposing just how excited he was to finally have you in such an erotic position. you quickly glanced at the smug smirk that you swore was permanently etched onto his face at that point and made a promise to yourself; that you would do everything in your power to wipe that stupidly enticing look off his face.

to say that his size didn't intimidate you would've been a lie, because in all honesty, it was an intimidating size. it wasn't that you hadn't seen his cock before, there had been moments where you had "accidentally" walked in on him in his boxers or nude and caught a glimpse at the third leg that hung from the lower half off his body. from the fleeting glances that you had of it, he was roughly the same size as you normally, so the sense of foreboding didn't creep up on you until you were face to face with his cock at its biggest.

nevertheless, you pushed aside the feeling of unease and reminded yourself of his pleased expression and your resolve came back in full force. you started off lightly, giving his red tip a kittenish lick, blinking back in surprise when a few beads of precum trickled out of his head. you looked up at him, your own smirk playing on your lips now that his cock had given away how keen he really was.

a few more airy moans filled the air as your licks grew longer, soon you took the entirety of his head into your mouth, cringing slightly when his precum touched your tongue. you continued to maintain eye contact and felt the satisfaction bubble up within you when you witnessed the fall of his facade in real time. little by little, his smirk dwindled, soon reduced to his teeth sinking into his lower lip to snuff the sounds that fought their way out.

to think, you would one day be capable of reducing the great and mighty solomon to such a state, head tilted back and muttering rough obscenities under his ragged breath, body flushed and covered in a slight sheen of sweat. who would've thought the pervert that preyed on his new servant was so sensitive, precum dribbling out of his leaky tip so much so that it spilled out of the corners of your mouth.

you could feel his heartbeat thrumming through the bulging vein on the underside of his dick from where it sat heavy on your tongue, betraying his usual unreadable demeanour. he was just as excited and turned on as you were and now that you were on your knees with his cock in your mouth, all sense of reason flew out the window and he let his emotion show.

your tongue traced the vein on the underside of his cock before you came off his dick completely, a string of your spit connecting your lips to his length as if chasing the warmth of your mouth. your hands, which had strictly stuck to his thighs or played with his balls, moved down to clamp around the base of his cock.

"admit it. you're a dirty pervert who likes to watch his servants do absurd chores in revealing uniforms, aren't you?" a loud, uncharacteristically high pitched cry rang out at your hand harshly tightening its grip around his cock, the sound sending a shiver down your spine at the upper hand you had over him.

teary, half-lidded eyes looked down at you, his right arm coming up to cover his mouth in an attempt to muffle the whimper that bubbled out of his throat when you didn't let up. you raised an eyebrow, shifting backward to fool him into thinking you'd stop all together.

"aah! i'm a dirty pervert!" he cried out, wet with desperation and need. unfortunately for him, the sound just went straight to your dick and you realised then just how much you liked the sound of him in such a pathetic state. when you still kept your tight grip on his dick, a gargled sob fell from his pretty lips followed by fat tears rolling down his cherry red cheeks.

"i'm, i'm a dirty pervert who likes to watch his, his servants do chores in revealing uniforms!" only after his admission did you relent, releasing your hold on his leaky cock. "please, please, please.." his knees buckled underneath him and he had to grip the table he was leaning against until his knuckles turned white in order to keep himself upright.

if only his devout followers could see him now, all whiny and begging his servant to make him cum.

© 2023 TEARS0FSATAN. please don’t translate, modify, repost or plagiarise my works anywhere.

[ninjawitdaddyissues]

tell me why the fuck i just woke up from a dream where i was on set shooting something with dnp and the crew was all chilling in between and the set was chilly and i was snuggled in with dans legs across my lap and he grabbed my foot and i was wearing toe socks and he interlinked his fingers with my toe sock toes. WHY WAS I WEARING TOE SOCKS AND WHY WAS DAN TOU HING MY FEET WTF GOES ON IN MY BRAIN THAT MY SUB CONCIOUS WAS LIKE, HERE

[in-halingstardust]

Congrats on 200!!! If its cool, can I request a spicy matchup!

Physically:

I'm a female with a softened hourglass figure with an average bust. I have pale manilla skin and have moles scattered on my body. Im a bit self concious about my body due to sh scars on my stomach, my weight and my chest. I've got black straight hair that goes just past my shoulders and I have dark brown almond-shaped eyes.

Preffered matchup: males only

Personality:

I guess enigmatic? I tend to appear alof and keep a facade of ditzy and keep distance, but underneath I'm just an anxious (buzzing like a bee), but like a gentle grandma? When I'm comfy I'm much calmer but am silly and kinda have a child-like wonder. I'm also super observant and fairly calculating but I hide that. I deal with depresison and anxiety but Im doing better, but sometimes I overwork myself and neglect my health. It's hard to get to know me, but once you do it's ride or die.

Facts sfw:

I secretly want to be spoiled in general but I get super self-consious and embaressed about it because I'm not used to receiving things

Spice facts:

I'm very sensitive to touch in general but I like being held in bed. I will only let people touch me if I trust them

I hate being insulted or degraded in general on the otherhand I love genuine praise/love confessions (maybe eve slightly obessive) / soft comfort. (Praise kink and bodyworship?? Prob) I fluster tho.

Im pretty shy and inexperienced in bed mosty due to being self conscious about my body and scars (To the extent i preffer to be to be covered or have them blindfolded after first, but as I become more comfortable then I'll let them see me fully) So i preffer someone who'll be patient with me.

I'm a switch, but sub leaning. If I top, if prefer them restrained. I'm a bit bolder but still hesitant. When I sub I'm still shy, but I aim to please. I'll do my best, but get overwhelmed easily.

I like being ravaged lovingly (biting, rougher, maybe a bit overstim) just no slapping, hitting or degration

hopefully I did this right? If I need to make changes pls let me know!

Thank you :)

🪷 nonnie

Nonnie, sweet sweet Nonnie I hope you enjoy this! ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ" You did everything perfectly!

I feel Jing Yuan is the best fit for you! Sorry this is so so late!

Jing Yuan is a gentleman, through and through. He is willing (wanting) anything to make his partner feel safe and satisfied. >;D

So with a mischievous smile and a soft kiss of promise, he places what seems to be a rolled piece of satin in your hands. The fabric flows like water across your fingertips, the signature jade color of his office. Jing Yuan leans over you, caging your body in, the blindfold still innocently in your hands.  What would you like tonight? Me or you? Your heart is hammering in your chest and you point your index finger towards him. 

A loop and a quick tug Jing Yuan’s eyes are covered. 

❥ It’s ridiculous how well Jing Yuan knows you. How he coaxes your mouth to open in a deeper kiss before letting his hands roam softly over your body. How he trails down a path of moles and scars giving loving attention to each one, whispering sweet nothings against your skin. He leaves his own mark of course. A couple hickeys along your body lapping them with care. ❥ Let’s be honest here, the blindfold does not really “blind” Jing Yuan. He’s an expert when it comes to pleasing you; however, he loves teasing you. Through your own whines he makes you say exactly what you want. Hmm? A little more? Where? You’ve never had a bad night with him. 

[plasticbabyart]

I like to think Spyro talks to his reflection, which is Dark Spyro. His reflection tells him the reality, which he himself has somewhat twisted slightly to be far more sinister than it is.

Dark Spyro is is sub conscious, who knows that the pressure and expectations will lead Spyro to evil on his own. Which neither knows is that Dark Spyro is genetic, he was born as a part of his sub concious from Spyros real Father, Malefor.

Spyros unaware that Malefor fell victim to the exact same situation as him, the only difference is Spyro is emotionally weaker, and is far more frightened of his own power to let the 'Evil' in him do anything.

[batllethinker]

Million dollar baby | W.mf + N.rv

Pairing: chubby milf Nat x buff Wanda | fuck buddies carol x wanda

Wc: 5154

Summary: In a time of desperation, broke college student Wanda wanders into a high end bar which is where she meets a woman that could offer her more than she could ever imagine

Warnings: amab Wanda, amab Carol, unprotected sex, breeding, alot of manhandling, sex work (technically??), sub Nat, dom Wanda, switch Carol, thick thighs saves lives, age gap (W-21, N-37), daddy kink, anal, semi/public sex, degradation, football captain Carol™️, oral, doggy all around because I can't write anything else apparently, praise, degradation | 18+ mdni

Translations:

Папочка-daddy

котелок-kitten

малышка - babygirl

принцесса - princess

Being a full time student and working part time does nothing to put a dent in Wandas' massive college debt, which is also what she always complains to her friends about.

"You could always get a sugar mommy, there's no way that wouldn't work." Wanda rolled her eyes as Carol gave her a look and shrugged, while her other friends looked away, trying their best to avoid the situation.

The brunette leaned back in her seat as she contemplated Carols' suggestion, she realistically knew that it wasn't a bad proposition as several of her friends had gone and done exactly that. It was just that Wanda hated the idea of leaning on someone like that.

She startled when Carol suddenly grabbed both of her hands and stared into her eyes, and Wanda knew that she would try to convince her once again.

"There's this bar uptown, very famous for picking up those type of women, just give it a try!" The blonde smiled brightly at her as Wanda raised an eyebrow, slowly mulling over the information.

It took a mere minute until she decided that, yes, she would give this whole thing a try, what's the worst that could happen, right?

Wanda nodded to herself and Carol lit up even more when she figured out her answer, jumping triumphantly as the younger woman rolled her eyes playfully.

"You won't regret this!" The others sat with them snickered, clearly amused with the whole ordeal as Wanda sighed and rose from her seat, her mind focusing on the night she had before her.

"I'll tell you all about it tomorrow" Wanda shot Carol a pointed look, who pumped her fist in excited, shouting a hell yeah, which garnered her a few looks while the brunette snickered as she walked back to her dorm room.

Wanda sighed before going through her closet for anything that wasn't cheap, 'dress to impress', she just needed a semi formal outfit.

'There you are!' She excitedly pulled forth a black button up, it was form fitting and highlighted her best assets, tight around her biceps and breast, something she always loved to show off. The brunette paired the shirt with tan dress pants, they were baggy enough to hide her bulge, if she were to go without attention that is.

Wanda sighed as she checked the clock and realized that it was way too early to go to a bar, no one really goes to a bar mid-evening.

'Alright, guess I'll just get ready for two hours??' She placed her clothes on the bed before walking into the bathroom, heaving another heavy sigh as she stared at herself in the mirror for a moment.

She was nowhere close to self-concious, Wanda knew how to use her assets to her advantage, how to make girls fall for her charm, how to make sure that her needs are always met in whatever way she seems fit.

She was strong, her muscles flexing with every movement and she always made a point to show them off. Wanda knew that she was big, bigger than average in fact, and she knew how to please a woman, how to fuck them until they were nothing but a drooling mess. She loved it.

The tall woman shook her head to clear her head before pulling her clothes off, hands brushing against her happy trail in the process, another feature she knew women loved.

Wanda took one last look in the mirror before stepping into the shower, the warm water instantly making her relax, she stood under the stream for a good few minutes, letting herself revel in the pure serenity of her shower before thoroughly scrubbing herself of off any filth, and making sure that she smelt and looked as good as she could.

Which also meant going through her extensive skincare routine, and putting on the minimal makeup she's comfortable doing. Wanda spent extra time just putting her clothes on and slicking her hair back, making sure that the night wouldn't fail.

The time finally came when the clock hit 7pm and her uber arrived, her wariness started dissipating once she stepped out of the car and stood outside of the bar. There was a black, classy sign that spelled out "midnight rose", Wanda stood there for a moment before shrugging and walking in.

To her surprise, the bar was barely filled but she could distinctly make out a good few older women. The atmosphere was nice, she could just feel the class in the air, and she did not fit in.

As she stepped further into the bar she could feel eyes on her, several eyes but she paid no mind as she continued towards the bar, and took a seat, quickly casting a glance towards the women seated a few stools away from her only to see them already watching her. There were three of them but one in particular caught her attention, her curled red hair, painted red lips and short black dress that showed off thick thighs, heavy breast and the most perfect stomach, her rolls visible through the dress. Yeah, Wanda wanted her.

Wanda quickly ordered a drink before making her way over to the women, and focusing in on the redhead, a small smirk forming when she noticed the other two giggling before moving to another table.

She sent a charming smile to the now alone woman, before asking if it was okay for her to sit down to which Wanda got an enthusiastic 'yes' to. The younger woman smiled to herself as she sat down, 'so far so good' before turning her attention to the other woman.

"I'm Wanda" The redhead hummed as Wanda took a sip from her drink, and she didn't even bother to hide the way her eyes followed the movement of Wandas' tongue as she licked off the excess liquid from her lips.

"Oh, I, I'm uhm Natasha" The brunette did not even bother her satisfaction with the effect she was already having, or how happy she was with how nervous Nat was.

"Natasha, huh? what a pretty name" Natasha blushed, just hearing her name coming from Wanda was enough for her to feel a carnal need she hadn't felt in years.

"I- thank you" Wanda smiled warmly at her, hiding her desires as she leaned closer, slowly surrounding Natasha in every sense but not doing anything too bold knowing that her friends were still watching.

"So, Natasha, tell me about yourself." The older woman nodded quickly, knowing that it would help turn her mind away from the burning ache in between her legs.

"Oh, I'm 38, just became a mom of the cutest little baby! He's truly the light of my life, and I'm a CEO, it's very stressful but I have the most amazing support system" Natashas' whole face lit up as she talked about her son, and Wanda found it way too endearing.

"That's amazing, it really does seem like you have a good support system" Wanda cast a glance at the two friends who were not-so-subtly looking at them.

Natasha noticed it, ofcourse and laughed brightly, leaning forward and giving Wanda a good view of her cleavage in the process. The brunette couldn't help but stare for a moment before meeting the older womans eyes again.

"What about you?" Wandas eyebrows raised in surprise, she never talks with anyone enough to get to this stage, or no one has cared enough to ask.

"I'm a full time student, I work part time at a convenience store too, you know trying to pay off the college debt I will have until I die" The student playfully rolled her eyes as Natasha nodded in understanding.

Wanda hoped Natasha wouldn't find out her ulterior motive, she didn't want to use Nat for her money, she already had a stressful enough life.

"Do you have anyone to help you with that?" The brunettes' eyes raised in surprise again, this night couldn't be going better.

"I don't.." Natasha nodded thoughtfully, she had more than enough money and this woman clearly needed it more than her, and she wouldn't mind being in affairs with Wanda.

"Do you want me to help you?" Wanda opened her mouth to protest, but she did need the money, and the expectant look on Natashas' face made her rethink.

"I, yes. Thank you, Natasha!" The brunette smiled brightly, over the moon at the revelation of the night. She leaned even closer to the redhead, her hands gripping onto Natashas', she noted in the process how much bigger her hands were than the older womans', it was nice.

Wanda looked at her with an intensity that made Natasha flush and her hands sweat, this woman made her nervous, her strong hands held hers in a vice grip, the redhead chanced a glance to their hands. Wandas' hands were noticeably bigger than hers, slender and veiny.

The older womans' breath caught in her throat as she met Wandas' eyes, her nerves coming back full time when she noticed the dark look in her eyes.

"Wanda.." Natasha felt breathless, her thighs pressing together in pure need and she knew that Wanda felt it too judging by the way she adjusted in her seat.

"fuck.." It was groaned out, Wandas' voice taking on a much huskier tone, her accent all the more prominent. "Natasha, can we get out of here?"

The redhead nodded quickly, more than ready for what's about to come. Nat kept her hand in the younger womans' as she led her to the restroom, deciding that she did not have the patience for a car ride.

A surprised gasp left her when Wanda pressed up against her, her bulge clear against Natasha as she rubbed against the older woman, not even bothering to hide her desires.

The brunette let out a heady groan, loving the way her fingers sunk into Natashas' waist when she not-so-carefully maneuvered the shorter womans' body to face hers.

Natasha looked up at her with wide viridescent eyes, a burning desire playing in them and Wanda couldn't hold herself back from surging forward and kissing the other woman.

Wanda moaned in delight as their lips met, and the older woman immediately let her take control of the kiss. She smiled into the kiss when Natasha didn't even put a fight when she pushed her tongue into the redheads mouth.

The brunette delighted in the way Natasha felt against her as her hands started moving, sliding up her stomach and squeezing her boobs before one hand wrapped around her throat to push Natasha back against the sink.

The redhead pulled away with a delighted gasp, her chest heaving as Wanda lifted her up onto the counter, pushing her dress up in the process and Natasha has never been more turned on.

"Oh fuck, you look so good like this" Wanda was becoming breathless and knew she couldn't waste anymore time being outside of Natasha. The younger woman used one hand to unbuckle and pull her cock out, and the other to free the redheads breast from her dress with a certain desperation.

Natashas' head fell back against the wall when the taller woman rubbed her tip against her entrance, Wandas' head dipped forward to wrap her lips around one of the redheads' nipples.

The older woman moaned deeply, her eyes squeezing shut as Wanda pushed into her, Natashas' breath faltered when inch after inch filled her up. Natasha held her breath until she could feel Wandas' hips pressed against her and the resounding groan from the younger woman.

The brunette continued to suckling on Natashas' nipple as she let the woman adjust to the intrusion. Wandas eyes widened in surprise when a warm, sweet liquid flowed into her mouth but it did nothing to make her less desperate.

Wanda finally started fucking her, the woman was in no hurry as she kept her pace slow enough to take in every sensation that Natasha was giving her.

The younger woman placed one final kiss on her nipple before switching to the other, eagerly suckling on Natasha as a deep, satisfied moan left her. Wanda finally picked up the pace when the redhead gripped her head and forced the taller womans head further into her chest.

It wasn't long until Wanda took on a much rougher pace, her hands tightly gripping Natashas' hips as the sound of their mixed moans and skin slapping together filled the confined space.

"Fuck baby, you're going to make me cum like this" Wanda had stopped her slight assault on Natashas' boobs in favor of burying her face in the older womans neck, occasionally placing kisses and bite marks there as she brought them both closer to their impending orgasms.

The redhead moaned loudly at that, the mere idea of Wanda cumming in her pushed her closer to the edge, her hips moving to meet the younger womans every thrust, desperate for her release.

"I can feel how close you are, cum for daddy, doll" Natasha moaned loudly and nodded desperately as she fell apart for Wanda, who follows shortly after, the feeling of the older womans walls convulsing around her was all she needed.

"That's it, such a good girl" Wanda held the woman close as she rode out her orgasm fully, the two holding each other close as they caught their breath. It took a few more minutes until the brunette decided to pull out, smiling subtly at the sight of her cum dripping out of Natasha.

The redhead watched as Wanda grabbed a paper towel and dampened it in the sink before turning back to her. The younger woman carefully cleaned her up before helping her of off the counter and adjusted her dress.

"Thank you, Natasha, really" The taller woman had her hands on Natashas' waist as she stared down at her, her eyes shining with pure happiness and the redhead could feel herself melt.

"You don't have to thank me, sweetie" Natasha smiled up at her, and placed her hands on Wandas' shoulders, ignoring just how muscular they were and how much she wanted to explore the younger womans' body for the moment.

Wanda tilted her head in contemplation, she owed the other woman more than she could put into words but she also wasn't the one holding the reigns.

"Alright, but I'm still very thankful for you" Natashas smile widened at that, and she couldn't help but lean up to kiss the other woman, who eagerly kissed her back. The older woman kept the kiss short and sweet, not wanting to get swept up in it.

The redhead reluctantly pulled back only for Wanda to roughly pull her body against her own, making Natasha gasp as she felt just how firm she was.

"Wanda..I have to get back" it was said in a mere whisper, and Natasha made no move to let go of the brunette but Wanda nodded in understanding nonetheless.

"Give me your phone." Natasha nodded and pulled her phone up and handed it over to the other woman, who took it and put in her contact as 'Папочка <3' before texting herself from the number.

"So, now we can figure out the details" Wanda gave her a tight smile as she handed the older woman her phone back, her smile widening when she noticed the way Natasha blushed at the name she gave herself.

"Get back to your friends котелок, we'll see eachother soon, okay?" Natasha looked at her with wide eyes and the taller woman could tell that she didn't really want to.

"Yeah...okay" The redhead nodded, psyching herself up to see her overly pretentious friends again.

Wanda smiled softly at her and pressed a parting kiss to her forehead before walking them both out of the restroom to make sure that Natasha made it back to her friends while she made her way out of the bar to wait for her uber.

That night Wanda fell asleep with thoughts surrounding Natasha and with a smile on her face. When she woke up the next morning she had $200 transferred to her account and a 'thank you for last night' from the older woman.

She smiled at the message and shot back a 'thank you, котелок' along with a picture of her still in bed, nothing more than a cropped tank top and boxers adorning her body, both her muscles and bulge on display for Natasha.

The older woman did not reply right away but Wanda knew that she had seen her message, a small smirk playing on her lips when she received a 'when can we see eachother again?'.

Wanda didn't reply until she had gotten herself ready for class, just letting Natasha sit in her own desperation.

'I don't get off until 8pm but you can pick me up if you want' the younger woman had a busy day ahead of her, her morning filled with classes and her evening filled with work.

Natasha responded a minute later with a 'I'll see you then', the younger woman smiled down at her phone as she made her way to her friends, only to see that Bucky and Kate were the only ones there.

The brunette sat down on the bench opposite her friends, making sure to save the spot next to her for Carol, who happened to arrive a mere minute later.

Wanda smiled brightly at the blonde and opened her arms for Carol to jump into, to which she pressed her back against Wandas' chest as the brunette wrapped her arms around the other womans waist, fingers teasingly running along the waistline of her jeans.

Carol smirked up at her, and Wanda knew what that meant but instead decided to take her time, placing a lingering kiss to the junction of the taller womans' neck.

The blonde whined in annoyance, practically vibrating against Wanda as she waited for the younger woman to tell her all about her rendezvous.

"Come on, Wanda, just tell me!" The shorter woman chuckled and scratched Carols waist in warning.

"She's so fucking hot and god, she was such a fucking slut, couldn't even wait to take me home, I just had to take her in the bathroom and she took my cock like she was made for it." Wanda chuckled at the other womans very obvious boner as Carols breath faltered while their other friends groaned out an "get a room"

The brunette smirked and whispered a "if you're really good, I might take care of your little predicament for you" as Carol shivered against her.

The two didn't even notice as Bucky and Kate left, muttering something about them being "too much", which Wanda paid no mind to as she placed more wet kisses onto the blondes neck.

"We should get out of here." Carol let out a shuddering breath and nodded, carefully standing up but almost too mindful of her painful boner as she adjusted herself the best she could.

Wanda followed shortly after, placing a guiding hand on the blondes lower back as she walked them to her dorm. The shorter woman playfully slapped Carols ass, smirking in satisfaction as the other woman jumped in surprise, a small yelp leaving her at the pure force of it.

"Strip and get on the bed, on your stomach ass up" The taller woman nodded and gave a cheeky grin as she started getting rid off her clothes, Carol laid down on the bed, smirking to herself when Wanda adjusted her position, her hands gripping Carols cheeks, the brunette smirked when she noticed the blue jeweled plug that was pushed inside of her ass.

"You wanted this, didn't you?" Wanda chuckled when Carol whined, a small nod following shortly after.

The shorter woman took a moment to take in the sight before her, before taking ahold of the base and pulling out until the widest part was stretching the rim. Carol moaned when the brunette pushed the plug into her again before pulling it all the way out.

"You ready for me, baby?" Wanda smirked at the way the blonde pushed back against her, and the way she whined with every minute the brunette was outside of her.

The younger woman grabbed ahold of the base of her cock and slowly pushed her way into Carol, a low satisfied moan leaving her as she pushed further and further into the taller woman.

The blonde moaned loudly when Wanda finally bottomed out, her ass pushed against the other womans pelvis as Wanda let her adjust to the stretch.

Wanda slowly pulled out before thrusting forward with a force the blonde still was not used to, Carols entire body being forced forward with every thrust the younger woman forced upon her.

The blondes' loud moans were slightly muffled by the cheap dorm mattress as her face was pushed into it, even then Wanda could clearly hear her pleads for more.

The brunette smirked as she reached around Carol and wrapped her hand around her cock in a vice grip, laughing as the older womans' hips immediately moved forward into her hand.

"You gonna cum for me, cap?" The blonde moaned loudly at that, and nodded desperately as Wanda jerked her off.

"Cum then, slut" Carol did so without a second thought, hips stilling as spurts after spurts of cum land on the mattress, finally able to catch her breath as Wandas' also stilled.

"Now you just gotta make daddy cum" The older woman let out a deep breath as Wanda pulled out of her and turned her onto her back.

The shorter woman kneeled over her, perfectly lining herself up with Carols' awaiting mouth before pushing herself in, a low, satisfied moan leaving her as she's surrounded by the captains' awfully skilled mouth.

Wanda carelessly grabbed onto the back of the older womans head to get the leverage she needed to properly fuck her mouth.

"That's it, such a good cock sucker" Carol moaned quietly around her, her own hips jerking up into nothingness as she let Wanda use her.

The brunette came with one last thrust and a satisfied groan, smiling tiredly as Carol gagged around her.

Wanda caressed the other womans cheek with a small smile as she pulled out.

The brunette tapped Carols cheek with two fingers, giving a slightly apologetic smile as she got herself dressed.

"Not to fuck and dump but-" Carol rolled her eyes with a small smirk, the younger woman did this every single time and she didn't necessarily mind, it wasn't one sided either.

"Yeah, I know, I'll get going" Wanda gave her a bright smile and a kiss to her cheek as Carol got herself dressed, and walked out of the room with a small limp to her step.

The brunette watched with a small smirk, before giving herself a once over and making her way to the local convenience store she worked at.

Deciding to text Natasha, and lowkey hoping for a little something in her messages. 'Hey, I might get off earlier today, pick me up at 6? Ps. I miss you :)'

Natasha surprisingly responded straight away, her excitement exuding from her words alone. 'Hi! Yes, I can do that 😊' followed closely by a 'I miss you too, daddy'

Wanda smirked down at her phone, more than happy with how their arrangement was working out.

As the student made her way into the store with a smile she usually wouldn't wear to work, but she couldn't bring herself to wipe it off of her face.

Steve, her coworker, gave her an odd look as she walked up to the cash register. "What's up with you today?" Wanda dropped her smile, and scowled at him.

"Can't a girl be happy, old man" The blonde man playfully rolled his eyes, not too fond but used to the nickname given by practically all of his coworkers.

"She can but you usually aren't, especially not during your shifts" Wanda chuckled, nodding in admittance.

"I'm getting my dick wet, twice" The younger woman laughed when Steves face scrunched up in disgust.

"Don't tell me that! I didn't need to know that!" Wanda only laughed harder as the blond half-heartedly glared at her.

"You asked so you can't really blame me" The brunette shrugged as Steve let out a heavy sigh, hoping to completely erase the vision Wanda gave him out of his mind.

"Just get to work, please" The man pleaded, which just made Wanda laugh even more, knowing that she had nothing to do.

"I work at the register and there's literally no-one here" She gave him a pointed look and it was his turn to shrug, giving her a somewhat innocent look.

"You know you could just let me go home, you work fantastically alone and I would be able to see my girl" Steve sighed once again, knowing that he wouldn't need any help but he also would get in big trouble if he just let Wanda go.

"Just work your shift, it's not even that long" Wanda sighed in experation but didn't say anything further, deciding that she could endure those few hours of her shift.

Her shift was uneventful to say the least, her costumers consisting of five people in total and Wanda could die of boredom. The promise of seeing Natasha again was the only thing that kept her going.

Natashas wide grin was the first thing she noticed as she stepped through the main entrance and she could barely hold herself back from barreling herself into the older woman.

She wrapped her strong arms around the older woman, Wanda lifted Natasha up in the air, relishing in the way the other woman wrapped her thighs around her waist as she spun her around in the air. The brunette shoved her face into Natashas chest, loving the way she's surrounded by pillowy softness as Nat giggles above her.

The shorter womans face is flushed red when Wanda sets her down on the ground again and the brunette grins at her, eyes dark with lust even as her smile is bright.

No words are needed as the two of them step into Natashas car, the fanciest car that Wanda has been in by far and the younger woman gives herself a moment to appreciate it.

The redhead glanced at her for a moment before starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. Wanda spent the entire time watching her, her hand tightly gripping Natashas' thigh, just barely holding herself back from moving her hand higher.

"Fuck, I've missed this body" it was groaned out in a dark rasp, and Natasha couldn't hold back her gasp as the grip on her thigh tightened to something painful.

"Wanda.." The younger woman only hummed in reply, way too distracted by how Natasha looked in her tight, low cut t shirt and short skirt.

"That's not my name, принцесса" The redhead let out a breath in an attempt to calm herself down.

"Daddy...please, we're almost home" Wanda groaned in annoyance and grabbed her free hand, placing it right on her bulge.

"Baby, please, I need you" Natasha let out a quiet whine at that, her hand tightening around Wanda and her own thighs clenching together.

The redhead let out a quiet sigh of relief as she pulls up into her driveway, her now free hand coming to grab Wandas in a pathetic attempt to stop her.

"Let's take this inside, please" The younger woman hummed in conteplation, knowing very well that she'd take Natasha anywhere anytime.

"Inside, now." The redhead grinned in pure exhilaration, hand already grabbing for Wandas as the younger woman pressed up against her back, her other hand rubbing up and down her thigh before settling on her waist, their joined hands resting against Natashas belly.

The walk inside seemed endless, and was somewhat of a struggle as Wanda just refused to let go of her.

The both of them sighed in relief as they stepped into Natashas bedroom and Wanda detached herself from her.

"Strip. Now" Natasha gulped in what could only be anticipation as she undressed, avoiding the brunette's intense gaze the best she could.

Wanda groaned in pure lust as she was met with the sight of the older womans nude body, and she knew she couldn't keep herself from fucking Natasha any longer as she made quick work on undressing herself.

"On your hands and knees" Natasha nodded, barely holding back her whimper as she settled into position on her bed. Wanda following closely behind as she settled right against her with a satisfied sigh.

The younger woman drug her cock through her pussy, just far enough to bump against her clit before pushing into the velvety heat she had dreamt about all day.

Wanda moaned in satisfaction as she was finally sheated inside of the redhead, letting herself savour the feeling of Natasha.

When she started moving again it was with a hand in the older woman's hair and one tightly gripping her waist, fingers sinking into plush softness.

Her thrusts are aggressive and she's pushing Natashas' face further into the mattress with each thrust, her hips meeting her ass each and every time, making it jiggle and Wanda could not look away.

Natashas moans were music to her ears and she could not get enough, and she would not muffle them either. Using the handful of hair she pulled the shorter woman up against herself.

"You sound so fucking pretty for me" The redheads responding moan was the lewdest Wanda had heard her, and fuck, she was about ready to cum on the spot.

The brunette wrapped the hand that was once in Natashas hair to her throat, pressing down enough to give her that heady feeling as she moved the other down to rub her clit in tight circles.

The older woman moaned loudly, her hips jerking in uneven motions against her as she tried to get herself off.

Wanda could feel the woman tightening around her, and she knew that Natasha wouldn't need much more to cum.

"Cum for daddy, котелок" Natashas moan bordered on a scream as she tensed in the younger womans arms, letting her orgasm wash over her with a relieved moan of Wandas name.

Wanda let the feeling of Natasha cumming around her bring her to her own orgasm, her hips stilling as she filled the redhead to the brim with her cum, the both of them milking eachother on.

The younger woman groaned quietly as they both came down from their highs, Wanda pressed a kiss against her shoulder blade before shifting them both to lay down on the kingsized bed.

"Can I stay in you?" Natashas eyes widened in surprise but still nodded shyly, seemingly embarrassed by the question but Wanda grinned widely at her and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.

[serendihoope]

Drooling|JJK oneshot

★Summary:You love your physics proffesor and you were staring at him in his class shamelessly but what happened when he caught you...?

★Genre:dilf!Jk,age gap,dirty talks,lovey-dovey,fluff

★A/N:Well, enjoy my this oneshot and i am preparing for the chap of something about yoy.Please give this oneshot lots of love.

You know what your Professor is teaching and saying but your sub-concious mind is somewhere else.You Are literally drooling over your Physics professor who is teaching about electric potential.You are just thinking how a man can be this tough,handsome.The way his white shirt is hugging his body is like his shirt button's are struggling to hold their button holes.His shirt is neatly tugged under his denim jeans that have ripped around his knee area.A fucking hot meal to devour.You were not really into those men who wear glasses unless your Professor. But your Professor born in wrong time.He is freaking 12 years older than you..Yes,you are 19 and your Professor is 31 but what can stop you from drooling over your handsome Professor. You dont know how many time you were staring at your Professor. You came into realization when your seatmate irene give a slap on your sholuder."What the hell!why do you slap me.It hurts".You fake cried."I told her to do so"that deep voice which can make your thigh clench.You looked at your Professor, who is looking at you with his cold and stern eyes."Hwang Y/N can you tell about us your daydream and please clean your drool its looking dirty".Everyone started to laugh and you embarrassedly cleaned your mouth."please give your attention here on this board"

After the college you directly come back to your apartment.You unlocked your Apartment door and you get inside it.Suddenly a warm hand holds your wrist and make you sit on his lap."Hey,butterfly".He snuggled his face into your neck.You slightly pushed him and said,"Who is butterfly here Mr.Jeon?I am not seeing any butterfly here,mind to tell me?"Jungkook chuckled and said,"Aww,my baby is angry at me"."Why wont i angry!you literally insulted me and the way you said my drool is making my face dirty is fucking lame!" "You only look beautiful when you suck my cock and Your drool get attached to my cock,aint it butterfly". You playfully slapped him and tried to get over from his lap." leave me.I have to cook dinner for us"."Why need to make dinner,when my delicious dinner is sitting on my lap.I will like to eat your delicious cunt baby",He smirked."Oh just shut your mouth and let m-

Her words get stuck by his lips.He started to kiss her lips hungrily as he said she is her meal.He pinched her nipple and she gasps.He take this opportunity and slipped his tounge into her mouth and started to feel her strawberry lip balm."You dont know how i control myself to not your dress ripped in class,your innocent eyes make me fucking hard. Dont you understand my little slut?"

She smiled and said,"should we continue this Mr.jeon? "

He lift her and she quickly wrapped her legs around his torso and said

"I love you "

He replied and attached their forehead.

"I love you my butterfly".

[angelexe777]

𝘀𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗲 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘 🌾— a guide by angelexe777 ♡

𝙤𝙣𝙚: 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙜𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜.

APPS FOR BACKGROUND LOOPING (NO YOUTUBE PREMIUM REQUIRED —

ANDROID: Go Videotube, GoTube, Puretuber, Greentube, Vanced

background loop and picture-in-picture

no in-between ads (Go Videotube has no ads at all, the rest has pop-up ads)

create and import playlists (login required)

NOTE: do not use a vpn while using the apps listed above.

APPLE: Musi (i'm not an apple user, but i've heard that this app allows you to do the same thing.)

AUDIO OR VIDEO DOWNLOADING

there are lots of apps that allow you to do this. try to use an app instead of a website, it's much safer.

if possible, download in .wav format, it has higher audio quality.

if you have no choice but use a website, use an ad-blocker or secure browsers like brave. if the site has no "s" (secure) in its adress (https) don't use it.

great method in case youtube decided to terminate your favorite channel.

.a method that i use everyday! looping subliminals in background while doing other activities (especially activities that require high concentration like studying) is an incredibly effective way to help you detach from the listening process itself — your concious mind is actively processing and focusing on other things rather than constantly overthinking, obsessing over, and/or anticipating visible change (this could lead to limiting belief).

.let the affirmations flow like a river — let your subconcious mind digest the affirmations peacefully without distruptions. fun fact: after a while, i usually forgot what subliminal topic i'm listening to because my focus is divided towards other activities. heck, i usually forgot that i'm listening to a subliminal! when that happens, i usually continue to do whatever activity im doing at the moment.

.because i'm not a native speaker it's a little difficult to explain what i meant by this method; basically you're not giving your full attention towards the subliminal. you are unaware that you're currently in the state of subliminal-listening. usually if you are aware that you're listening to a subliminal you tend to focus on the listening process itself, wondering when the subliminal is going to end, scrolling through the comments reading results, wondering if the sub would work for you, constantly checking if your results are here, etc. if you continue to obsess like this, you would get very, very dissapointed if you haven't gotten noticable results therefore lose faith over your manifesting ability (a common problem for newbies).

.perfect for: hard-working students, gamers, artists, writers, sleepyheads 🌱

𝙩𝙬𝙤: 𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙨𝙚𝙩.

."if i continue to obsess over results, i won't get results at all,"

."i hate that i'm not getting results at all. im really bad at manifesting,"

."i need to avoid mirrors, or else i won't get any physical change,"

."if i listen to different subliminals, the affirmations would clash and i won't gain any benefits at all,"

(insert other false subliminal beliefs and doubts here)

SWITCH!

."i can't help but obsess over the qualities and things i already have in my life (in this case your desires)," "the more i think about it, the more prominent and noticeable they are. i'm not "obsessing" or "compulsively thinking", it's me calling, attracting, and summoning my desires into reality,"

."why am i getting great things in my life? why are all my desires flooding into my life? what are all these new items? who is this new figure in the mirror? what in the world is happening? i'm truly confused," "manifesting is easier than existing and doing my natural bodily functions," "manifesting? what's that? you mean describing the things i already have in my life and i'm grateful of?" "i seriously can't keep up with all these miracles happening in my life, it's too overwhelming,"

."my figure in the mirror is changing visibly every second, i'm witnessing my body transform with my very own eyes," "even the mirror is having a difficult time reflecting the inhumane beauty that i carry,"

."each and every affirmation audio i'm listening to is perfectly mixed together like a magical concoction, a delicious dish with various flavors. no matter what audio i'm listening to, i would still get wonderful results,"

."no matter the mindset, no matter the circumstance, i would get what i want anyway. i am a very spoiled nepo baby, and the universe is just spoonfeeding me things that i want," "it is the law that i get whatever i want right now, and this law cannot be broken,"

𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚: 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚.

here are methods i use alongside subliminal listening:

magic food/water: visualize that every single food you eat or water you digest is magical. it has power to grant wishes. while consuming any of these products visualize that with every bite or every sip your body is slowly shifting into your desired one, or visualize any other scenario that you desire.

bath: visualize the water you use to take a bath/shower is a sacred water from a magical spring hidden somewhere with intense energy and power. any body parts that made contact with this water would transform into whatever its owner desire. affirm while cleaning your body. as soon as you step out of the bathroom, believe that you have transformed, the door which divides the bathroom with the outside is a portal into your desired reality.

sleep: believe that sleeping is a time-skipping method where you could "skip to the good part" aka get results immediately as soon as you wake up.

study: the more you study, the more knowledge you put in your brain, the more beautiful you are.

listen to subliminals as soon as you woke up.

it's okay if you're not consistent. believe that inconsistency has nothing to do with results.

𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧: 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙨.

KOTTIE: my favorite submaker. effective, detailed, scientific results. she put quality over quantity and truly took her time to do research and create effective affirmations.

baejin cafe: unique topics, cute, aesthetic visuals paired with hundreds of detailed affirmations.

archu and roy: extremely powerful boosters and audios, gives noticable physical results

i want it i got it: calming audios, perfect to listen while studying, meditating, or sleeping. i've been getting intense quick results with their subliminals.

++moza morph, vetala, kapelsu, lay subliminals, rainy vibes

hope this post helps, sweethearts. happy manifesting 🍀—

tags: #manifesting #manifest #lawofattraction #lawofassumption #affirmations #loa #subliminals #subliminalresults