#+ everyone is willing to vote for him and likes him

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

please tell us more about your mad theory about the tories getting rid of Sunak?

So the Tories currently have two (2) major problems.

Problem the first: they are about to lose power as soon as the GE rolls around, which it must do by January 2025 at the absolute latest. And the country is baying for one sooner.

This is very much preoccupying their minds at the minute. The rich and powerful will never willingly let you vote away their wealth and power, and to put this into perspective, the Tory party has ruled this country either jointly or alone for over a decade at this point. One of David Cameron's strategies as leader was to focus on recruitment of young and exciting diverse Tories into the party, which is how we got such stellar entries as Liz Truss and Priti Patel and Suella Braverman. These are MPs, therefore, who have never known political life outside of being on the winning side. They are seeing the end of the gravy train in sight, and they are taking it as well as you'd expect.

This is why the infighting is so rife (partly; bear with). The main thing they care about right now is making the party electable again, and fast.

But...

Problem the second: like all good fascist dictators, when Boris Johnson came to power, he fired everyone who said anything bad about him for disloyalty, and promoted all his personal friends. This is how we got such stellar entries as Nadine Dorries and Jacob Rees Mogg and Michael Fabricant. But THAT'S an issue because saying bad things about BJ is basically what intelligent people did, because the man was a useless blundering oaf who killed horrifying numbers of his own electorate via the world's second worst mismanagement of a global pandemic. So removing anyone who criticised him meant, in very real terms, removing the only Tories with half a brain who were even a fraction capable of doing joined up thinking required to run a country. Like, fuck every Tory with a cactus, obviously, but they did at least used to have competent, high calibre politicians, however evil and grotesque they were. David Cameron should die in a cesspit, but he was capable of remembering to put the bins out (before wage cutting the refuse collectors).

And therein lies the real problem: okay, BJ is gone, the party is in ruin, they're staring down the barrel of the most humiliating election defeat in history. They need someone competent that they all like who can take the reins and make people like them again.

But who's left?

There's no one. There's no one left. Not just because the remaining Tories are too low calibre to lead; they're too low calibre to even be able to pick someone without shrieking like cliquey little harridans on the playground about how the wrong in-group got in. Half of them are still BJ loyalists who hate anyone who criticise The Great Brexit Leader. The other half hate BJ for managing to make everyone hate the Tories so much that they're in this mess. Both halves are willing to sabotage the chosen leader of the other, locked in a battle of mutually assured destruction.

So how does Sunak fit into this?

He's unpopular in the party to a truly staggering degree, and not much better in the eyes of the public. He's tried to take a centrist stance on BJ, but that's actually just pissed off both sides. He did manage to stabilise the economy somewhat after the appalling mess Liz Truss threw it into, but he hasn't actually fixed it - we're still mid-cost of living crisis, we're still inexplicably not rich after Brexit like Boris prommied, inflation is still at an all time high as public services crash. The public hates him.

And he hasn't made the public stop hating the Tories. That petition calling for a GE is great, because it won't happen - BUT, it does force the issue to be debated in Parliament with opposition parties getting to stick the boot in, which means the humiliation continues. The Tories are starting to get desperate again.

And because this lot of Tories are, as mentioned, utterly terrible low-calibre political idiots, their response to this pressure has for the last four years been to oust the leader and get another.

And the first letters of no confidence have been sent into the 1922 Committee already. The devil moves fast, but knuckle dragging Tories with a fifth of a braincell each move faster.

And thanks to the absolute fucking state of them all... I cannot believe I'm saying these words, but genuinely the best person they have left who could possibly do the job is, of all fucking people, Michael Fucking Gove, and it won't even be him because he was mean to Boris once.

So yeah. I reckon Sunak may be out in six months. Fuck knows who we get instead. Probably Penny Mordaunt.

[cevansbrat0007]

Jiggly

Summary: You find yourself feeling a little self-conscious after it becomes clear you've gained a little weight.

Warnings: Insecure Reader, Ari Being A Menace, Discussions of Body Image, Mentions of Disordered Eating, Smut (Heavily Implied), Oral Sex (Fem Rec Implied), Light Spanking, Cursing, Clothed Male Nude Female (CMNF), Talk of Potentially Abusive Exes, Brief Discussion of Murder, Pet Names, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Dedicated to @curls-and-eyeliner and @dc41896. This story will more than likely take place in my upcoming Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

___

“Lemme see.” 

“Seriously, Ari?” You mumble, throwing your arms over your face. “Ari–no!” Your man’s eagerness has you almost immediately second guessing yourself as you hastily go back to protecting your middle. 

“Why not?” Your man purrs, nuzzling the fabric of your threadbare flannel shirt with the tip of his nose. It was your favorite thing to wear when you felt like this. Not because it was exceptionally cute, but because it was comfortable.

Nevermind the fact that it had once belonged to Ari. And that you usually only wore it when he was away on a job and you were missing him.   

“I just wanna see what all this fuss is about, Bird.”

“I already told you.” The words are spoken in a huff. After a brief debate, you decide to take advantage of the element of surprise and flip your positions so that you’re straddling him. “I’m feeling a little jiggly.”  

“Right, you’re…jiggly.” A small snort slips from his mouth before he can compose himself. “I heard what you said the first three times you said it. Didn’t make a lick of sense then and it doesn’t make any now.” 

Annoying bastard. Not everyone could walk around all day sporting washboard abs. Especially not a girl like you whose passion for baking was almost as big as her passion for books.

“Oh, shut up.” You grunt, rolling your eyes as you go to pin his hands above his head. 

“I’m just pointing out that my ears are working fine.” He picks that moment to buck his hips, almost knocking you off your perch. Somehow you manage to steady yourself, but it’s absolutely easier said than done.

“Hold still, Levinson!”

“Looks to me like you’re the one doing all the moving.” Ari’s hearty chuckle has you redoubling your efforts to hold him hostage. “Although, I can’t say I’m complaining.” He purrs, his lidded gaze straying to your now-heaving chest. “But I really think our next move should be gettin’ you outta that shirt.”

Fat chance of that one, pal. The last thing you wanted was to be naked in front of him right now. Sunlight wasn't known for being slimming.

“Nope.” 

“I vote yes.” Ari twists his big body, jerking against your hold. “And while you’re at it you can lose the shorts too, along with the panties.” 

“But I’m not wearing any.” The words tumble out faster than you can stop them. It’s enough to have you mentally slapping yourself in the face.

“Even better.” The feral gleam in his eyes sends sparks shooting straight to your core. “I’m a simple man, baby. And giving me easy access to that sweet pussy is the quickest way to my heart.” 

You roll your eyes so hard it’s a surprise that you don’t lose them. As it was, your flimsy shorts were already riding up your ass in a way that was kind of uncomfortable. Mostly because your man wouldn’t stay still.

“Bird, what have I told you about rolling your eyes at me?” The soft, silky timbre of his voice has alarm bells sounding in your head.

“Um…” Now, that one has you at a loss. And not because you didn’t know the answer to his question.

In the past, Ari had explicitly warned you not to do it. Not unless you wanted him to give you a few reasons to keep ‘em rolling. Specifically in the form of his thick, hard cock. Because while your man was usually more than willing to put up with quite a bit of sass from you...

There was just something about rolling your eyes that pissed him off. In fact, the last time you’d done it you’d found yourself bent over the couch with a sore ass and him balls deep inside you.

Granted you’d also been in the middle of a fight, but that was neither here nor there. 

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” 

“Bite me.” You snap, your mouth once again moving faster than your brain. Fuck, you needed to get a handle on that.  

Ari has you on your back in a flash. He looms over you, careful not to give you his full weight. It went without saying that you were well on your way to getting yourself in trouble with your man.

Him and stupid rules about maintaining proper eye eye contact and refusing to tolerate your brand of self-deprecating talk. He always maintained that if he ever found himself wanting one of those rail-thin Hollywood types over you, he’d go see about getting his head checked out. 

To him you were gorgeous. Not because of or in spite of your curves. But because you were you. 

“Where’s all this sass coming from?” Ari asks, shaking his head as his nimble fingers begin the work of unfastening your flannel. “It can’t all be because you’re feeling squishy.”

“Jiggly.” You correct him gently, your heart speeding up as he slowly unfastens one button, and then another. 

“My mistake, Duchess.” And there was his other nickname for you; the one you’d earned yourself during your very first meeting. “I just don’t like seeing my girl upset – especially not when she’s been walking around my place all day looking good enough to eat.”

Soon you’re down another button, but you hardly notice this time. You’re too busy getting lost in his sparkling blue eyes.

Only a few more to go. Frankly, the only reason Ari hadn’t ripped the damn thing was because he knew just attached you were to it. And he didn’t want to risk upsetting you further.    

“I’m sorry.” You try, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. While your boyfriend doesn’t say anything, the apology does manage to earn you a kiss. Even though it’s nothing more than a faint brush of his mouth over yours. 

“Swear to God, baby.” Ari hums as he resumes the delicate task of divesting you of your clothes. “If I ever meet the man responsible for planting all those ugly thoughts in the beautiful mind of yours…” Once all the buttons are finally undone, he parts the edges of the worn fabric, exposing your bare breasts.

“Ari…”

“I’ll fucking kill him.” His dark gaze locks with yours, making it clear that he’s not joking.   

“Beast…” A shiver courses through you, the cool air making your nipples pebble. “This has nothing to do with him. My clothes have been feeling a little snug lately, but then I stepped on the scale this morning and it confirmed everything. I’ve probably just been eating too much.”

“Bullshit. I’ve seen how much you eat.” The tick in his bearded jaw has you glad your ex no longer lived in the same county as you. “Some days it’s still nowhere near enough. Might as well be a bunch of birdseed. And since when do I even own a fucking scale?” 

Since you’d relocated it from your house to his. But your man doesn’t even give you time to respond. He’s already decided on its new home.

“It’s going in the trash, Bird.” Ari growls, his tone dripping with authority. 

“But I need –”

“What you need to do is not worry about counting every single calorie in every tiny bite of food you put in your mouth all the damn time.” His big hands go to frame your face as he forces himself to take a calming breath. “Because I remember what it was like back then, when you were too nervous to even eat in front of me.” 

Shit. You did too. You’d been so worried that he’d make some remark about how much food you were putting in your mouth or on your plate that you’d done your damndest to avoid eating in front of him altogether.  

“And I will not let us go back to that place, baby. I just won’t.” Ari’s head dips once more – this time his tongue sweeping past your lips to tenderly dance with your own as he pours every ounce of love he can into the kiss. He groans when he finally feels you relax beneath him, almost as if he’s savoring your submission. “You have my fucking word.” He murmurs once he finally lets you up for air.   

“I think that maybe I just need to eat more salads.” You tell him as your toes begin to curl. At the same time, a delicious warmth pools in your belly as your man begin’s trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses down your body. Your fingers sink into his chestnut tresses, lightly ruffling the strands.   

“Eat whatever the fuck you want.” Comes his swift rebuttal, his sharp teeth grazing over your pouting nipple.

“Bu–but…then my clothes might not fit.” A hiss of breath escapes as his kisses continue to move further south. “Like, at all.”

“Then we’ll just have to buy you some more goddamned clothes then, won’t we?” Ari snarls before pausing his hedonistic assault to glare up at you. When you don’t respond immediately, one of his hands finds your chin – gripping it with just enough force to let you know he means business. 

Your man was also the type who liked to hear an answer when he asked a question. And that wasn’t something that only applied to you. It was true for everyone. He didn’t talk just to hear himself speak.

“Yes, Sir.” To be fair, it was hard to argue with your boyfriend’s logic. And if he wanted to spend his hard-earned money he’d made off of chasing bad guys, then perhaps you’d ought to let him. 

The last thing you needed was him off pouting in the corner somewhere. He was a sizable enough menace already. He didn’t need the extra help.

“Thank you.” He grumbles, shifting his attention to what’s left of your clothes. Namely, your shorts. The ones Ari wasn’t too keen on you wearing out of the house on account of the fact that they barely covered your ass. Shaking his head, he eases the thin material down your thighs before tossing them over his shoulder. 

Now you were well and truly naked – completely at the mercy of your still fully-clothed Beast.

“Show me what’s mine, please.” Ari rasps, nudging your thighs apart. In the mood to obey, you let them fall open, putting your glistening cunt on  display. “There’s a good girl.” His fingers reach out to brush over your sensitive folds, making you whimper. 

Feeling brave, your hand shoots out to wrap around his thick wrist. “Wait. I was thinking I’d like to, um…makeup for upsetting you a little bit ago.”

“Really, Bird? You wanna make it up to me?” He maneuvers himself on the bed so that he can help you sit up. Nodding, you move to reach for him – intending to remove his t-shirt. Only to be surprised when Ari stops you. 

“But I want it off.” You whine, poking out your lower lip. “You’re not playing fair.”

“That’s because we’re not playing. If you wanna make it up to me then you’re just gonna have to do what I say.” He smooths a thumb across the wrinkles in your brow. “You can suck me off later. After you’ve fed me.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.” Grinning, Ari goes to lie flat on his back, his muscled arms coming to rest behind his head. “Now bring your sweet ass over here and sit on my face.” He pats his chest for good measure, licking his lips in anticipation. “And I mean all the way down.”

“But what if I –” Your stream of consciousness is interrupted by Ari tugging you forward. He grips your thighs, his slightly calloused palms tenderly kneading your flesh as he urges you up his body in the direction of his waiting mouth. 

This position always makes you nervous – regardless of whether or not you’d had to jump into your jeans that morning. 

“You just let me worry about all those pesky what-ifs.” Your man grunts, letting it be known that the only way to satisfy him right now is to submit. He spanks your ass when you hover too long above his face. “The only thing you need to be concerned about is how I’m gonna redden that ass if you don’t do as you’re told and sit all the way down.”

You feel your face flush as your empty walls clench. Your body was feeling more than a little needy. You were craving your man's cock like the drug that it was. But before you got what you wanted, you'd have to make a couple of concessions first.

Starting with this one...       

“I mean it, Bird.” He growls, delivering a sharp smack. “All the way down, please. I’m not worried about being able to breathe.” You jump when you receive another smack for your trouble. “Besides, if it’s my time to go…then I’d much rather go out with the taste of you on my tongue.” 

"Now let's see just how many you can give me."

END

[megamindsecretlair]

When It Feels Right

Pairing: Lamont Diggs x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, protected PIV, oral (female receiving) fingering (female receiving) teasing/mocking, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, all consensual. Use of n-word. Drug use.

Summary: Lamont invited you to his studio to help work on his new beat. You help him in more ways than one.

Word Count: 5,057k

A/N: Hello, my loves. I have been feral for this man since watching this show. This was LONG overdue. This is the winner of the Fic poll, thank you to everyone who voted! ONE SHOT. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @babybratzmaraj @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @wide-nose-and-wonderful @hereformiles @flydotty @blackerthings @notapradagurl7

Lamont released a heavy cloud of smoke in the air. You bobbed your head to the new beat he made. Lamont matched your bobbing head, a slow grin working its way across his face. You rolled your eyes and turned away from him, trying to feel the beat without him coloring your opinion.

Just because he was your best friend didn’t mean that you couldn’t lay down the truth when needed. The good Lord knew that he didn’t need an even bigger head. 

As the beat faded and came to a close, Lamont clapped his hands in the too silent studio. It was a rare night where he didn’t have Melissa, couldn’t sleep, and his boys weren’t in the background smoking up all the weed. 

“Go on and tell me that’s hot!” He yelled and clapped his hands again. He played with a few switches on the switchboard and then swung his chair to face you. You swung idly on your own chair, back and forth. 

You gave him a funny look, not willing to admit that it was good. Of course it was good. Dude really knew his fucking craft. 

“It’s aight,” you said and dismissed him with a wave.

“Bullshit!” Lamont yelled. The joint hung from his lips as his long, delicate fingers flew over switches and knobs and he ran the track back. The deep bass thumped through the speakers once more and he turned to you, brows furrowing to gauge your reaction.

“Damn, I’m playing!” You said and giggled. You pushed away from his too intense stare. He sucked his teeth and pushed you back.

“Tell me what you really think, damn,” he said. 

“Nah, that shit is fire, Lamont. Seriously, you tore this up,” you said.

“Thanks, thanks. Just need some dope lyrics on it. Tired of them mumble rapper m’fucka’s,” Lamont said. 

He shook his head, his locs tussling over his face and dropping into his eyes. Your hand itched to push it away so you could continue looking at him. You swung your chair away from him so that your face didn’t give you away. It was the weed talking, nothing more. 

You played with the sleeves of your sweater, swinging around and around in circles until his studio became a dizzy array of green and red. Like Christmas. That was a much safer line of thinking. You could think about lights, gingerbread houses, and pinecones and not about how Lamont’s lips poked out, ready to be kissed.

Lamont turned down the beat and deposited the joint in the nearby ashtray. The smell was loud, filling your senses with its aroma. You smacked his shoulder as you passed him and then smacked it again until he relented and handed it to you.

You took a lungful, holding it in and rolling it around your tongue before releasing it back out into the studio. You watched the smoke lift towards the popcorn ceiling, wishing it would take your thoughts with it. You smoked so that your brain could pause like a TV show. So that you could stop to take in the details around you and make sense of it. 

Your stomach turned and roiled so you stuck your foot out to slow your spins. Lamont was on his phone scrolling through Instagram.

“You always on that damn phone,” you said, grinning as you realized that you sounded like your mama. 

“Okay, Ms. Etta,” he said.

“Shut up! That is not my mama name!” 

Lamont peeked at you from the curtain of his locs and smirked, holding out his hand for the joint. You took one last inhale, the burning embers at the end filling your peripheral vision before you handed it back to him. He dumped the ashes and then took a puff, putting it down on the ashtray. 

Lamont returned his attention back to his phone, head slightly bouncing to the beat he made. Your eyes slowly tracked over all of the mini orange, red, and green lights blinking from the switchboard.

This was the kind of laid back music that would be in a lounge somewhere. Your mind’s eye filled in details of blue ambient lighting. Black men and women and those in between dressed in their finest business casual. Men in deep, monochromatic suits and shiny shoes. Women in dresses a hair shy of too short, showing off long, thick legs and strappy high heels. 

You pictured glasses clinking, words whispered amongst friends, and glances thrown across the room. Ballers sending trays of drinks to the group of women at the bar knowing exactly what they were doing by leaning over it. 

It was a type of sexy beat that you felt in your inner thighs first. The thrumming bass making your thighs jiggle. Warming heat working its way up your spine until you couldn’t help but nod your head, bump your shoulders, and look at your friend to see if they were feeling the beat like you were.

You turned to Lamont, ready to tell him, when his nose was buried in his phone again. You groaned and reached out to slap your hand over the phone.

“You said you wanted no distractions tonight, remember?” You asked.

“I’m done with the beat though,” he said. He moved his phone out of your way and you leaned over a little further to try and snatch it from his fingers. His arms were longer than yours and he easily held it away from you. 

“You said not to let you get distracted. Hand it here,” you said. You snapped your fingers. Lamont shook his head, his locs whipping across his face. His gold chain glinted in the low lighting and it was stark against his white T-shirt, dyed green in the studio lighting.

“You ain’t gon’ snap yo fingers like you somebody,” he said.

“I AM! SOME-BODY!” You cackled at your own joke, eyes wide and smiling so big that your cheeks ached. 

“Goofy ass. You need to stay off this shit,” he said. 

“Boo, you’re no fun,” you said. You continued to reach across the short space between you, trying to reach his phone. You were high, but not that high. Your thoughts were coherent and slow. Like you could pluck each of them out and lay them on a blanket. That you could take your time and choose between them like choosing your outfit. 

“C’mon, watch out,” he said. He nudged you back but you were undeterred. Your tongue stuck out of your mouth, so deep in your concentration. Lamont chuckled, effortlessly fighting you off. 

You huffed and you huffed but you could not blow this wolf down. You sat back in the seat and sighed. “For real, Lamont. I did not come over here, at midnight, just for you to play on your phone. I wanna see some magic,” you said.

“Girl, I just showed yo ass the Magic Kingdom,” he said.

You laughed at his corny ass line and shook your head. “One beat is all you got?” You asked.

“All I got?” Lamont scoffed, affronted that you would even suggest such a thing. 

You inwardly grinned, using your knowledge of him to your advantage. He always rose to the occasion. He was almost too easy as he sat forward in his seat. His left hand dropped the phone in between you while he focused on the board once more.

Where you only saw switches and gears, he saw instruments. This board was a modern orchestra and he knew exactly which sounds to pull from it. Which drums sounded dirty enough to warrant adding snares and strings. 

You snatched his phone from beside him. He instantly balked, trying to get it back from you. You didn’t have the length he did, so you had to resort to putting it behind your back and trying to slide your chair away from him.

He put one hand on your chair to stop your retreat and then the other went in search of his missing phone.

“C’mon, stop playing!” He laughed as he struggled to get the phone from you.

You only had so many places to stick it. You kept moving it like you were playing hot potato with it, tossing it from one hand to the other. “You come on! I know why you call me here. So I can keep yo ass focused!”

“I focus just fine without you. Ever think I just want your company?” He asked.

“Duh, you always want my company,” you teased, still moving the phone every two seconds while he lunged for it. A giddy feeling swelled in your chest like a balloon, filling up all of your hollow crevices and giving you the feeling of floating despite feeling heavy. 

“Always? You loud and wrong,” he said. He sat back with a huff, eying you. You grinned, looking for any type of eye twitch or flicker. Anything to indicate that he would make a sudden move and try to snatch it from you. 

“Oh? I guess I should just leave then,” you said. You leaned out of the chair, butt hovering over the seat that was practically molded to your ass by now. You felt a few twinges. The side effect of sitting too long. All this cushion in your ass didn’t mean shit. 

“Man, sit yo ass down and hand me my phone. Please?” Lamont asked. But the please was not sincere. You stuck out your tongue while you placed the phone down your shirt.

The warm metal laid across your skin and you grinned at Lamont’s expression. His face kind of froze. Or paused while he stared at your chest. It was nothing new for the two of you, so you couldn’t name why it made your belly flip. 

“You think that’s gon’ stop me?” He asked. Was it you or did his voice get a little deeper? A little rougher? 

You adjusted the phone against your cleavage and threw up your hands. “What you gon’ do?” You asked.

Lamont licked his lips, a small smile forming on his lips. “You know I can just turn you upside down and shake you like a toy?” 

Nope. That did not make your pussy flutter. You did not imagine shaking for entirely different reasons. 

There was always this thickness between you and Lamont. A sort of sticky, gooey middle that kept you glued to his side all these years. You had been friends for so long, you didn’t remember the exact number. Where one went, there went the other. There was always a lingering look, a hand on the hip placed too long, a bite to the lip. 

You never crossed the line. The timing was never right. Either you were with somebody or he was. He was nursing your broken heart while you were getting him turnt up for his. He had an entire baby with Mia who had him wrapped around her tiny manicured pinky. Despite his protests otherwise. 

Now. Now you were both single. Unattached. No messy drama getting in the way. 

“Whatever, Lamont. I am here to keep you on track,” you said. You shook your head and smacked your lips. “Literally and figuratively.” 

“Gimme my phone,” he said, that same rough voice dancing along the sticky gooeyness that made your toes curl. He didn’t need to see the way you looked down trying to get yourself under control. 

“What you gon’ do?” You asked, rolling your neck for emphasis.

He smiled and shook his head. He waved his fingers in a ‘come on’ gesture and you smacked his hand. 

“What you gon’ do? What you gon’ do?” You kept asking, waiting for him to reply. To say something. Anything. You were tossing out the question like a fishing line, baiting him with delicious chum. With the irresistible urge to either latch on and let you know that it wasn’t just you or toss it aside and let it drop once and for all. 

“Say it one more time and I’ll show you what I’m gon’ do,” he said. 

“What you gon’ do?” You said slowly, enunciating each word so there were no misunderstandings.

Lamont’s hand shot out and pulled your fuzzy sweater away from your chest. His other hand snuck up your shirt and went fishing around for his phone. But his hands roamed too broadly, lightly squeezing your titty every so often. 

“Lamont!” You yelled. 

He licked his lips and got closer. His breath fanned across your face, a subtle mix of candy and weed. His hand continued to roam while he slowly closed the distance between your lips. He looked at you the entire time, giving you ample opportunity to back away.

But you wanted this. You casted that fishing line out into the ether, so you closed the distance for him. You pressed your lips against his finally. Your dreams didn’t come close. It was nothing like what you thought it would be and everything you dreamt it could. 

His lips were soft against yours. Smooth tongue running over your lips and sloppily slanting against yours. You hummed, low and softly but you were sure he heard it. His hands continued to roam under your shirt, no longer seeking his phone. 

Instead, his hands found your breasts and began to knead them, fingers grappling for your nipple. As soon as his fingers found that little pebble – no bra because you hadn’t felt like throwing on one just to chill with Lamont – he squeezed and rolled it between his fingers.

“Oh shit,” you said against his lips, finally pulling back far enough to get some air. Some room. 

“Mhm,” he moaned. “You think I ain’t been paying attention these past few years?” He asked.

“Wh-what you mean?” You asked. He rolled his lips around yours, kissing you but only just so. His wide nose danced against yours. One thing about high sex that you loved was how sensitive you became. How the little hairs on your skin picked up the different changes in temperature or tingled with every brush of skin. 

“All them nasty ass stories you liked to tell. About how men never hit it how you like,” he said.

He switched his hand to your other titty, seeking your nipple a lot faster. He rolled it in between your fingers and your breath stuttered. 

Already, he was leagues better than half the guys you’d been with. Or perhaps it was your lingering, previously unclaimed chemistry, doing most of the work for you. This was inevitable. Your lips would always meet his. His hands would always press into your skin. 

“You remember that?” You asked.

“Kept hoping it would be me in one of them stories. ‘Cept, I know what I’m doin’,” he said.

You giggled and pushed away from him. “Big fuckin’ words, boy,” you said.

Lamont had a playful frown on his face, considering your words, before he slapped his hands onto the arm rests of your chair. He caged you in your chair while he leaned down for more kisses.

His lips were like little clouds of heaven. Each one sweet, soft, and lazy. He lowered himself to his knees, still too tall for his own good. He kept kissing you, even while his hands went roaming again. 

He pulled your sweater off and took in the white tank underneath. His lips found yours again as if he didn’t want to be gone too long. He mixed in nips and licks to keep you on your toes. He grabbed his phone from out of your tank and placed it on the edge of the switch board.

He returned his attention to your body, kissing and biting you through the fabric of your tank. You felt him, but you didn’t really feel him. You lifted the tank and threw it over your head.

Cool air from the studio hit your upper body and you immediately shivered. Even with the thumping beat and lingering smoke, you weren’t warm enough. Lamont helped you lower your leggings and panties, pulling them off and throwing them across the room.

You were fully naked, staring into his dark eyes while he was still dressed. He leaned back, took in your curves, dips, and valleys with a satisfied grin.

“So that’s what you look like underneath all them damn sweaters. You been keepin’ this from me?” He asked.

He rubbed the goosebumps from your arms, scooting in between your legs and making you spread them wider to accommodate him. He looked you in the eye while he lifted one leg, kissed it, ran his tongue right behind your knee before placing it on the arm rest.

You felt ready to explode. He did the same to your other leg, but trailed more kisses down the length of it before placing it on the arm rest.

“You gon’ answer me?” He asked.

“Waat?” You asked. 

He chuckled. “You were just gon’ keep hiding this from me?” He asked.

“I-I wasn’t trynna hide it,” you said. Your words were slow to form and even slower to get out. 

“You wasn’t? Then why I ain’t never get a taste yet?” He asked.

He leaned across your body. His cotton shirt was almost too rough against your skin. You hissed, moving away from him but he moved forward anyway. The shirt tickled your skin but you didn’t have enough air in your lungs to giggle. 

Anticipation flipped in your belly, like it was playing hopscotch in there. You didn’t know what he was going to do next. You were on an infinite precipice of waiting.

He didn’t make you wait long. He kissed you, moving his hands between you to brush his fingers along your wet seam. You jerked in the chair but he had you effectively pinned. You had nowhere to go. Trapped in the chair with him covering your naked body. 

You moaned, licked your lips in between kisses, and then went back to feeling those sexy lips on yours. 

His fingers pushed in, separating your pussy lips and dipping into your heated essence. He moaned into your lips, tugging on your bottom lip. “You always get this wet?” He asked.

“Uh-uh,” you said. 

“No? I just bring that out of you?” He asked.

“Uh-huh,” you said. You had no words. With every swipe of his fingers, he pulled them out of your head. Each pass of his fingers around your clit made one more word disappear like air. 

“So that means I get to taste it right?” He asked. He moved his nose against yours and you sighed, your pussy clenching around nothing. 

“Uh-huh,” you said, lips finding his again and again. His wet, suckling kisses made you see stars behind your eyelids. 

His knuckle nudged into your clit and you hissed, releasing the air in short bursts. “Oh, she a little excited,” he said.

“Oh shit,” you moaned. “Don’t tease me.” 

“Don’t tease you? I like teasing you. I finally know how to shut that attitude up,” he said.

“You too damn cocky,” you moaned. 

“Still running that mouth,” he said. He moved his fingers to dip in and out of your pussy, pushing his fingers deep to his knuckle. Your mouth dropped open, eyes turned bruising. 

He moved his lips to your jaw and kissed down to your neck. He sprinkled kisses across your chest and then licked your nipple into his mouth, suckling. “Oh my god,” you gasped, back lifting from the chair.

Your pussy greedily sucked his fingers inside. “That’s right. Grip them fingers. Show me you like what I’m doing to you. Getting wetter over here, I’m gon’ have to buy a new chair,” he whispered around your nipple.

Your hands came up to play with his locs, rolling them between your fingers and loving the feel of them. You were in sensory overload. Everything was too much and not enough. Lamont’s filthy words had you screaming towards a climax, thighs shaking and pussy gripping him tighter.

“That’s fuckin’ right. Been dyin’ to know what you look like when you cum. You gon’ look like that riding this dick? Huh? How many pretty faces can you make while I’m rearranging your guts?” He asked.

“Lamont!” You twitched. 

He continued to pump his fingers as you calmed down. It was like he was exploring your pussy with his fingers. Trying to gauge how deep you could take him. Your grip tightened around his neck and he hummed, flicking his tongue against your nipple.

When you relaxed against the chair, Lamont slowed down his fingers until stopping altogether. He licked his fingers and moaned. “Taste so fuckin’ good. You doing okay?” He asked.

You nodded, loosening your grip on his neck. You wiped up run away drool, feeling a bit embarrassed that a little finger action made you cum quicker than a man in a porn store. 

Lamont shook his head, shaking the locs from his face as he pressed his face into your pussy. He took a loud, deep breathe and blew air between your pussy lips.

“Oh shit!” You screamed, hands flying back to his head. You gripped his hair while he began to eat you out in earnest, using his tongue first. 

He leaned back and hummed, slapped your pussy. “Damn,” he moaned. “So fuckin’ good.” He was a messy eater, digging in like it was his last meal. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked. He brought his hands up to roll your nipples between his fingers, squeezing and squeezing until he pinched them.

“Fuck, fuck. Lamont! Damn,” you moaned, biting your lip. Fuck! It felt too good. So damn good with his lips between your thighs and his locs tickling your skin, and your hands digging into his head. Smashing his face into your pussy, giving him free rein to explore this thing between you. 

“Name sound sexy on your lips. Say it again,” he said, coming up for a bite of air. 

“Lamont,” you said with a grin. His eyes flicked to yours while he continued to make out with your pussy.

“Again,” he said, muffled against your wet core. 

Lamont!” You moaned while your orgasm was cresting the surface. Pressure built in your lower belly, getting so close with each new flick. Each new lick. Each new moan that told you he liked what was between your thighs. The thought that you could please him, even by the small act of being wet for him, turned the tide.

Your hand flew back to the back of the chair to steady you while your back arched. “Oh shit, Lamont!” Your neck rolled against the top of the chair while your body twitched and convulsed. Your body turned limp, riding the orgasm wherever it took you. However you looked while you spasmed. 

“Tasting so fuckin’ good. Fuck, I been missing out,” Lamonst said into your pussy. He continued to lap like a cat to cream. “So fuckin’ sweet. So fuckin’ good.” 

He lumbered to his feet, tossing off his white shirt. His chain bounced against his dark skin. His tattoos were darker still, spread out all over his body. You watched him through slitted eyes while he unzipped his pants. 

He freed his dick and rubbed the hardened length. Shit, he was perfect. Big and girthy. It was always the skinniest niggas that packed the biggest punch. It had a slight curve to it and your pussy clenched just seeing it.

He dug into his pocket and grabbed his wallet, flipping it open and grabbing a condom. He tore it open, found the right side, and then pinched the tip. You watched him as he rolled it onto his dick, adjusting here or there until it was fully on.

He pushed your thighs back on the chair. It protested with a loud groan, conflicting with a different beat in the background. Something laid back, lazy, and slow. Light danced over his features while he leaned forward, towering over you bent like a pretzel in his chair.

“You feelin’ aiight?” He asked.

“Yes, nigga!” You said with a smack of your teeth. He chuckled, grabbing your throat with his left hand. Your eyes rolled involuntarily, hand flying to grab his wrist. Not to push him away, but to keep him there. To push for more pressure.

He obliged you, squeezing harder until you were ready to cum just from that. “You must need some dick to get you right,” he said. 

“Umph, yesss,” you moaned. 

He used his right hand to grip his dick and run it through your damp folds, getting the condom slick with your wetness. He pushed in slowly. You hissed, pushing against his thighs. 

“Uh-uh, don’t push me away. Move them hands,” he said.

“But Lamont–”

“Move. Them. Hands,” he growled, getting close to your face and squeezing your neck.

You moved your hands with a whine. He was too damn big. He rolled his hips, sliding inside of you and working his way deeper. Your hands flew back to his thighs, pushing at him.

“Move them fuckin’ hands,” he rasped. 

“Please,” you begged. You were going to pass out. There was too much pleasure. Too much desire and lust. Too much of him. His scent, his sighs, his scorching looks. He lit fires in your veins that made you whimper and pout.

“Move them fuckin’ hands right now,” he said.

Again, your hands slid away from his sweat-slick thighs with a whine. The sound was needy and desperate. You had no way of slowing this down. Slowing it down to a pace you could quickly adjust to.

His dick didn’t hurt, he just stretched you deliciously. So much so that you had a goofy smile spread across your lips like icing on a cake. You moved your hands back to his hand on your neck.

He rolled and moved his hips, stroking into you with deep, long thrusts at a steady pace that stole your breath. You whined, choppy hums in your throat. “Why you doin’ this to meeee,” you moaned. 

“‘Cause I been waiting too long to get in this pussy. I’ma enjoy that shit,” he said. He smirked and dropped down to kiss you while he stroked deeper still.

You sank onto his dick while he rolled his hips, moaning with every glide. He lifted his head and rolled his neck, closing his eyes. You watched his face while he stroked, watched as he found some type of groove like your body was the switchboard and he was making a complicated beat.

He lined up perfectly. Your back arched. “Oh fuck, oh fuck. Right there, right there, Lamont,” you moaned.

“Right there?” He asked. He kept hitting your sweet spot, not deviating in the slightest. 

“Right there, oh my god, I’m gon’ cum,” you moaned.

“Give it to me. Let me feel that pretty pussy grippin’ this dick. She feel so fuckin’ good. Wrapped around this dick. This what you needed? Huh? This what you needed? Them other niggas ain’t have all this for you, did they?”

Each of his questions grew fainter as your orgasm came closer and closer. Your hand pushed against his chest. Your eyes were too far in the back of your head. You were worrying a groove into your bottom lip by biting too hard. 

“You still with me? This dick got yo tongue?” He asked.

“I’m-” You came with a loud moan, louder than you had ever moaned before. You twitched in the chair, the groans from it sounded violent. “Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Feel so good, Lamont!” You cried out. Yelled out. 

It was a good thing that you were in a proper studio and there was no one around to hear you. Had you been at your place, your neighbors would know his fucking name. 

Your hands scratched at his stomach while he chuckled and kept stroking. “Fuck. You squeezin’ the fuck outta me. You ain’t trynna let me go, huh? Now that you know I know how to hit it right. What got you screaming. What got you moaning. What got you cummin’ on this dick like that,” he said. 

“Oh baby,” you moaned. 

“I’m baby now? What happened to my name?” He asked.

At this point, you didn’t know your own name. You clenched around his dick and he cursed, slamming into you one more time before you felt him twitch inside. You had an errant fantasy about him cumming inside you, spilling his fat load into you and then fucking it into you. 

You tucked that particular one to the back of your mind while Lamont dropped against you, loosening his grip around your throat. Your matching pants and gasps made the moment soft but fuzzy around the edges. Like when you first woke up from a good nap and didn’t know what year it was or what you were doing beforehand.

Lamont slipped out of you, stumbling back. He took off the condom, tied the ends, and threw it in the nearest trash can. He sat in own chair. He tucked himself back in but didn’t zip up his pants. 

You slowly lowered your legs from the chair, feeling thoroughly fucked out. You looked towards Lamont who was studying you in the same way. He smiled first. Your smile matched his as the gravity of what you just did sunk in. 

Sunk down deep into your bones. There was no going back from this. There was no way to pretend this didn’t exist. That he wasn’t just deep enough in your guts to still feel the lingering effects. You felt empty without him. 

“We wasted too much fuckin’ time,” he said softly. You nodded and licked your lips.

You tapped the tips of your fingers trying to reorient yourself. Bring yourself down to reality. The reality of you with Lamont. You smiled. “Let’s not waste anymore.”

You had sex again on his red, leather couch. Nasty, intense sex where his hands were back around your throat, he was stroking deep in your guts, and staring into your eyes while he continued to shatter your world over and over again. You grinned and giggled in between his nasty words and your faint pleas for mercy. 

You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but you were excited to find out.

THE END

Psst, over here! The Secret Lamont Files.

[aprocessionofthoughts]

Sleepy Summons

whumptober23 day 29- scented candle fandom- dp x dc TW- none summary- Danny just wants to go to sleep

ao3 masterlist

Dick was kind of embarrassed. But at least everyone would be embarrassed with him. If they made it out alive.

Look, they had thought it was a simple cult, but apparently there was at least a little magic at play, because they had managed to capture not only Dick, but also Jason, Tim, and Damian.

Batman was supposed to be on his way, but he had been out of town so it might take him a while. Dick just hoped these cultists took their time with the summoning. 

The cultists began to gather around the summon circle which had been lined with candles.

Well, it looked like they wouldn't be that lucky today.

The chanting started and the candles glowed brighter as the chal lines glowed green. Then suddenly a figure appeared in the center of the circle.

Dick stared for a second, unsure if he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing.

There was a boy, maybe between Damian and Tim’s age standing in the center of the circle.They had black hair and blue eyes, and were holding a toothbrush and toothpaste.

The boy blinked at the cultists around him and looked over at the tied up bats.

“Ummm….” The boy said.

Some of the cultists shifted and started muttering among themselves.

Then the boy sniffed the air. “Are those pumpkin spice scented candles?”

“They had a sale.” one of the cultists said.

“Shut up, Jerry.” the potential leader said.

“No, no. I like it.” said the boy. “But now I'm hungry for pumpkin pie.”

“Me too.”

“Shut up, Jim. We’re not making conversation with the foul demon.”

“Wos, okay. I didn't think I smelled that bad.”

“Shut up.” snarled the lead cultist.

The boy held his hands up, accidentally squeezing the toothpaste. He stared at his now toothpaste covered hand. “Look what you made me do.”

“It doesn’t matter.” the leader gritted his teeth. “I summoned you–”

“Actually, it wasn’t just you that summoned me.”

Dick could see the leader trembling with suppressed rage. 

“As the leader of this group, I command you to obey my orders.” 

“But, like, dit you get to be the leader through a cote or did you just appoint yourself.” the boy said, ignoring him.

“He kind of just appointed himself.” said one of the other cultists.

“Dud, that sucks. Are you guys really willing to put up with this?”

“Shut up!” the leader screeched.

“No, he’s right. I want to vote for our leader. What do you guys think?”

Several of the other cultists nodded.

“I vote for you, Freddie. All in favor?”

“Aye.” said everyone but the leader who was spluttering with anger.

“You can’t do that! I’m the leader! I gave you all the leader !”

“But we gathered all the ingredients and drew the circle!”

The boy spoke up again. “What do you guys even get out of this?”

There was silence for a moment.

“You know, I actually don’t really know. What about you Jerry?”

“No. What about you Linda?”

“I just thought we were going to get drunk or something.”

“Demon, I command you to be silent!” the leader said, looking like he’d finally had enough.

The boy glared at him. “First of all, I’m not a demon. Second of all, I don’t feel like being quiet. And third of all, I was finally going to get to sleep on time when you guys summoned me. So, I’m sure you’ll all understand that I'm a bit peeved. And lastly,” the boy stepped out of the summoning circle and the cultists scrambled back. “You were fools for thinking that you could control creatures from the other side of the veil. Most of them would kill you, but since I already showered and don’t feel like washing blood off of myself tonight, I’ll just leave you for the bats.”

The boy's eyes began to glow a bright blue and his hair moved in a nonexistent wind. Frost began to sweep from under his feet toward the cultists. Ice climbed up their legs and crept up until it completely covered them.

Then the boy turned toward them.

Dick swallowed. He hated the occult. He just hoped that whoever this was would leave them alone. He had said he’d leave the cultists for the bats, but still, you could never be certain with the occult. This being was probably not even human.

The boy stepped forward and Dick tensed as he reached out and touched Tim on the shoulder. The ropes holding him fell to the ground, and the boy repeated the process with all of them.

When Dick had removed the tape that covered his mouth he asked, “Who are you?”

“Look,” the boy had rolled his eyes, “I’m tired and I don’t have time to play twenty questions with you right now. If you want, you can just ask your sad trenchcoat man about the Infinite Realms, and also, tell him to stop selling his soul. It causes a lot of paperwork.”

With that, the boy disappeared.

------------------

Damnny groaned as he appeared back in his bathroom. He abandoned his toothbrush and toothpaste and rinsed off his hand, before heading to his room and collapsing on his bed.

He’d deal with all the problems that summoning caused tomorrow. Or next week. As long as Clockwork didn’t say anything, he could take his time.

[otdiaftg]

The King's Men - Chapter Fourteen

Day: Saturday, March 9th / 10th* Time: 3:55 PM EST

Nathaniel's heart skips a beat. The heat that gnaws at his chest is an ugly mix of gratitude and shame. He tries to speak but has to clear his throat before trying again. "But why? I've done nothing but lie to them. I willingly put them all in danger so I could play a little longer. They got hurt last night because of me. Why would they protect me now?" "You are a Fox," Andrew says, like it is that simple, and maybe it is. Nathaniel drops his eyes and works his jaw, fighting for a center he is quickly losing hold of. He barely recognizes his own voice when he says, "Andrew, they want to take me away from here. They want to enroll me in the Witness Protection Program so my father's people can't find me. I don't want—" he starts, but that isn't fair. "If you tell me to leave, I'll go." He doesn't say it will kill him, but he doesn't have to. Andrew hooks his fingers in the collar of Nathaniel's sweatshirt and tugs just enough for him to feel it. For a moment Nathaniel is months away from this moment, standing in the darkened front hall of Andrew's house for the first time with a warm key digging into his palm. It feels like coming home, and it is enough to take the edge off his fear. "You aren't going anywhere," Andrew says: the same words, the same promise. He is speaking in English again, and Nathaniel understands why when he hears Andrew's next words. Andrew is playing instigator and inviting the Foxes to the fight. "You're staying with us. If they try to take you away they will lose." "Take you away," Dan echoes. "To where?" "Are we talking about 'away for some questioning' or 'away for good'?" Matt demands. "Both," Browning says. "You can't have him," Nicky says. "He belongs with us." "When people find out he is still alive they will come for him," Browning says. "It is not safe for him here anymore, and it sure as hell isn't safe for you. It is better for everyone if he disappears." They understand better than he ever would, since Kevin has already told them of the Wesninski-Moriyama alliance. They'd been dealing with Riko's madness for a year now thanks to Kevin, and they look wholly unimpressed by Browning's warnings. "What part of 'go to hell' do you need us to explain to you?" Allison asks. "We're all legal adults here," Matt adds. "We've made our decision. Unless he wants to stay with you, you'd better bring Neil back to us when you're done with all your questions." "'Neil' isn't a real person," Browning says, fed up with their willful ignorance. "It's just a cover that let Nathaniel evade authorities. It's past time to let him go." "Neil or Nathaniel or whoever," Nicky says. "He's ours, and we're not letting him go. You want us to vote on it or something? Bet you it'll be unanimous."

Art used with permission by Kurra. Thank you @kurra!

*Due to the Leap Year, I have opted to highlight the day rather than the date to keep the events in occurrence to the 2007 year. I will continue to mark both days accordingly.

[kadextra]

Okay q!Bad is expanding so much on his plan for if he becomes president. I’ll break it down for y’all because it’s big brain

Basically, he would want to prevent having supreme power as an individual, bc it could lead to tyrant or dictatorship rule -> absolute power corrupts absolutely.

If q!Bad became president, he’d try to immediately dissolve his sole responsibility and enact a coalition government to maintain the server unity. Each language-group would send a representative to this coalition who will vote for decisions on the mods to add, mods to remove, and yes- the person to add to the server.

q!Bad said he’s even willing to give up adding Skeppy, because as a president he wouldn’t want to make any self-centered decisions and risk being corrupted by the power. all it would take is one. Plus, he realizes everyone wants a chance to add their friends. Leaving important decisions to a vote is really sweet actually

TLDR q!Bad as president would immediately try to unite the server, opposing the Federation’s likely intention to divide it. Would they allow that in their experiment? Would they try to control him? Who knows, but if he’s actually able to make this happen, that means the communication SMP would strike again >:D

[augustus-rok]

Nebula AU

Maybe I'll write a fic for this, maybe i won't, but here are the basics. Also if this inspires you to write something chuck me a tag cause I wanna see it.

Set during older/later high school rather than freshman year for Danny. However the portal accident still happened at the canon time.

Ghosts are more or less invisible with out tools or certain contamination levels. This also applies to general noise they make, they have to focus extra to be heard by humans. Typically yelling only equates to a whisper when right next to someone if you're a ghost.

As Danny doesn't become a hero immediately and gets to settle into himself first, his ghost form reflects more his track towards being an astronaut. Aesthetic more along the lines of solar flares and start dust. When ghost do actually come through the portal with intent to do harm he gets a helmet and thick gloves and has a sort of jacket layer over top. I imagine that his ghost form suffers from something like what's described in this post, and the helmet and glove and jacket are learned extra thing.

Story stuff. So it turns out when the ONLY ghost to wander through the portal other than little glowing blobs that only hover, is the antithesis of your theories you have to go back to the drawing board. So the Fenton's (kept out of the loop for a couple of months) and GIW are very much good guys and BETTER Scientists. And the militaristic mind set is swiftly put down when all of the subjects (the one) book it at the slightest hint of aggression.

Now Valarie, nicknamed Red Huntress during her internship, interns/volunteers with the GIW as a field watch/interviewer for Nebula. Which is the code name given to a Danny who never introduces himself and as such gets named by vote like a new firetruck by the community.

Hey BTW this is a portal Danny AU in my head.

The basement portal? That is a direct route to his lair, which is an astronomer's dream wrapped in a, you guessed it, nebula. The Wastes (or the area the Fenton Portal spawns in in canon) inhabitants spend a good few months flipping out at the arrival of what looks like a god or something. It's a decidedly "do not fuck with that" thought process.

Danny eventual.y introduces himself and makes friends without the protect the town from day one aspect. They all tussle a bit but the other ghosts go "hey it's a baby" and give him a proper lay of the land.

Cut to 21/2 years later after the Portal Accident, and Vlad decides to be a bastard and go after the adopted mascot.

Now the scientists have all learned that fighting= play/bonding. So they are all wildly caught off guard by the very sudden warpath through the city park.

Vlad doesn't put together Halfa Danny in this AU until well after there's been conflict. And after he managed to expose the active portal to ghosts outside of the immediate area of the portal that are perfectly willing to break into Danny's lair and some have figured out the horror aspect described here: FIC I RECOMMEND

So back to that fight. Ghosts are QUIET, especially Danny who even with the tech, radio/coms that make other ghost audible, has to be boosted to be heard by even other ghosts. (I imagine lots of sign language in this au) So this darling little sky watching ghost screams, a terrified child's noise, as this ghost that looks like a Vampire and a hoard of vultures(?) actively assault the poor thing? God the humans, the humans are scared. Everyone could hear that out side of the coms, and everyone saw it. They got good at televising the ghosts.

Sam and Tucker, decidedly only civilians are terrified for their friend. They know what play fighting looks like, they've been to the lair. Valarie who catches on fast thanks to being the intern bestie to Nebula and maybe future girlfriend to Daniel "Hot space nerd in row 4 of homeroom" Fenton, is forced as fights, proper devastating ones, continue happening to keep her friends away. Especially the first time. Most importantly that first fight.

REMEMBER Danny's portal, not the one in the basement. Well he stretches, upper body desperately crawling away from his lower half trapped by the vultures, keening all the way. Still scarily audible. Then from the gap made of flaring stardust and molten plasma that is the active void that consumes the area his stomach would have been was he human- Comes a raging adult ghost. More than one possibly.

I especially like the idea of Skulker and his missle launcher showing up, being the third ever recorded humanoid ghost, and absolutely steamrolling Plasimus who is not a Halfa as in halfway point like Danny is so loved by the Waste ghosts for being. But rather just half a ghost, a human with a funky little boon.

Now as Skulker has the time of his afterlife chasing Vlad and the Vultures, lets have say Lunch Lady slip out of Danny's portal, maybe one of the more teenagery ghosts too.

Anyways, instant fussing. Danny relaxes enough to stop being a portal to hell and the humans are very careful in approaching them all. What with the older ghost's yelling at the aggressors to leave the baby alone. Skulker is dramatic, and likes embarrassing the whelp.

After this point things beginning to resemble canon more, only the humans have a natural non-guessing gauge of hostility for the ghosts in town.

They figure out pretty fast that the physical portal and Nebula portal only let through friendlies. (Not entirely true but they don't know that.) And the threats, well lets just say Nebula is never caught off guard in his own territory again. He becomes ruthless.

Meanwhile, Danny Fenton has friends both dead and alive helping him fight a guerrilla war against madmen. He sits in class undisturbed even as he tracks the startbursts he knows are his friends protecting him and everyone else untill he's free. He huddles in the attic crawlspace filling out data sheets and pin boards as his girlfriend and best friends scour government documents.

Nebula sits in the portal, toxic light cascading like water around him, watching his parents and GIW agents work in the FentonWorks lab.

He always gives good greetings to those who offer, and when asked he whispers secrets of the universe he's learned from the source over the radio.

The scientists for get to ask for his sources, but when they do they are always both awed and terrified of the sources.

Things go well. And things as always progress.

Link to Doodle I did that actually drove me writing all this.

[justsalpals]

I always knew about Stede's self-centeredness and lack of empathy (or more accurately: lack of thought/consideration) for those around him. It was a part of the character, often played for laughs, and always seemed born of a cheerful ignorance and inability to see outside himself originating from his life of privilege rather than any greed or selfishness.

I assumed a major part of the story would be him growing as a person and learning what it really meant to be a captain. How to care for and look out for the crew. It seemed so engrained into the show's concept, before Ed even showed up, that it never once occurred to me that he just. Wouldn't.

There are examples all over the show, but there's an example that cut me far deeper than the rest. That completely changes how much leeway I was willing to give the character, and made me genuinely so mad for the crew.

You guessed it. It's about Ed, the complete disregard of the crew's wishes and boundaries, and him proving his own hypocrisy and how he's completely willing to manipulate and disregard what I'd thought was a core tenant to his character (ie: "talking it through" meeting others with kindness and understanding, ect.)

It's about how the crew voted Ed to be banished, and Stede invited him back the very same night. It's about "one night" suddenly becoming an extended stay. It's about Stede actually fucking shushing people voicing their concerns and feelings during the apology. It's about what a big deal they made about the probation compromise, Ed in a sack and bell until the crew was comfortable with him again and (once again) Ed literally being back in his leathers 24 hours later. (I usually mentally insert at least a few days between episodes, but we know that wasn't the case here because of Lucius and Pete's engagement sex marathon.)

How many of you wanna bet that the crew genuinely got together and decided they were comfortable with Ed again, after he what? Caught one fish with Fang? Or would you rather bet that Ed got bored of humoring them? Because I know where I'd put my money.

And the crew's attitude breaks my heart, the general vibe summed up by Archie shortly after Ed's non-apology. This is just what happens. It's like when she had to fight Jim to death in the storm. This is just how it goes. The people in charge make the rules, and everyone else just has to deal with it.

So much for the new age of piracy, huh? Sounds like Stede fits right in with how it's always been, just dressed up in empty kind words and false promises.

[sweetvoidstuff]

Chain the change

Cha Hyun Su x Reader

Summary: Tensions rise as Green Home votes to evict Hyun Su.

Autors Note:I haven't written stories in quite a while, but I have the desire to pick it up again. English isn't my native language, so I welcome any constructive criticism. Particulary with the titel.

the next part, kinda

Masterlist

~~~~~

The tense atmosphere in the room was palpable as the tenants of Green Home Apartment gathered for the crucial vote. Whispers of uncertainty echoed, and the weight of judgment hung heavy on your shoulder. Demending on this vote Hyun Su would be thrown out or even worse.

Mister Kim's sudden outburst shook the room, his face contorted with rage as he screamed at the other tenants to rid themselves of Cha Hyun Su. The atmosphere, already tense, reached a fever pitch as fear and confusion spread like wildfire. Whispers of disbelief and unease swept through the gathered crowd.

Amidst the chaos, Hyun Su stood at the end of the room, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief, trying to comprehend the gravity of the situation. Mister Kim continued his fervent tirade, demanding that they take matters into their own hands. "We can't let him ruin our lives! We have to get rid of him now or he will turn and kill us all!" he bellowed, his voice echoing in the confined space. Hyun Su, the center of this storm, stood amidst the turmoil, his eyes wide with disbelief and fear. The room held its breath as the realization of the severity of the situation dawned on everyone. Hyun Su struggled to find words to defend himself, caught between the accusations and the impending decision that could change his life.

It was in this moment of tension that you, a bystander until now, felt compelled to speak up. Amidst the chaos, you stepped forward, breaking the silence with a declaration that sent ripples through the room. Standing firm, you declared, "If you're going to throw him out, then I'm leaving with him." The room fell silent, all eyes turning toward you. Your statement hung in the air, a challenge to the collective judgment of the tenants.

The gravity of your words added a new layer to the already charged atmosphere. The tension in the room transformed into a palpable conflict of emotions—fear, anger, and uncertainty mixing together. The decision now rested not only on Cha Hyun Su's fate but on the willingness of the community to confront the consequences of their actions. Not just one, but two lives on the line.

Hyun Su, taken aback by your unexpected stance, tried to interject. "This is unreasonable," in a hushed wisper he argued, concern etched across his face. "What if I turn? What if i become a monster and hurt you?"

Your response was unwavering. "If you're a monster, then all of us are. Listen to what they say, what they are willing to do!," you proclaimed, your words echoing with defiance. "I'll stay with you till the end, whether that's until you fully turn or if it costs me my life. I won't abandon you." Hyun Su, torn between gratitude and concern, tried to reached out to you.

The room erupted into chaos, the revelation sparking heated debates among the tenants. Some questioned the logic of such a decision, while others began to grapple with the profound loyalty you displayed. Mister Kim's hostility turned towards you, his anger now directed at anyone who dared to oppose his extreme proposal. He advanced, his face contorted with rage, but before the situation could escalate further, Hyun Su stepped between you and Mister Kim. The room held its breath, the confrontation reaching a critical point.

At this moment blood began to trickle from Mister Kims nose. First slow but soon a stream of blood ran down his shirt. The room fell into a hushed symphony of gasps, the ominous precursor to a transformation. Eun Hyeok, attempting to calm the panicked crowd, pleaded for reason, but the tenants, gripped by fear, were hesitant to listen.

Hyun Su's own monster stirred, responding to the threat. His eyes turned black, his voice, now laced with a dark undertone, with a smirk he questioned, "I have a question. Am I allowed to vote? If I go, Mister Kim has to go with me, right?"

Eun Hyeok, sensing an opportunity for reason, interjected, "You don't have to do this. Quarantine might be the best option here. For both of them."

Eun Hyeok, taking charge in the midst of the chaos, directed the tenants to assist in quarantining both Hyun Su and Mister Kim. The room shifted from pandemonium to a controlled frenzy as the tenants reluctantly followed Eun Hyeok's instructions.

Hyun Su and you walked side by side towards the makeshift quarantine room. You felt a strong urge to comfort Hyun Su but hesitated, mindful of the other tenants surrounding you. Instead, you decided to take his hand, a silent gesture that spoke volumes. Your fingers gently intertwined with his, and Hyun Su's initial surprise was evident on his face. However, as the warmth of your hand enveloped his, the surprise transformed into a grateful acknowledgment. In the midst of uncertainty, your touch became a lifeline, a tangible reassurance that he wasn't facing this ordeal alone.

As you entered the room, a mix of trepidation and gratitude painted Hyun Su's expression. The solidarity you showed, both in words and actions, had not gone unnoticed.

Gently squeezing his hand once more, you whispered words of comfort, "We face it together, Hyun Su. I'll be back with food later. We'll get through this." Hyun Su nodded, his eyes expressing a blend of gratitude and relief.

Inside the quarantine room, the air felt heavy with the anticipation of Mister Kims transformation and maybe even Hyun Su's that loomed ahead.

Inside the quarantine room, you maintained your grip on Hyun Su's hand until the last possible moment before reluctantly letting go. Your eyes conveyed a silent promise: I'll be back. Hyun Su nodded, gratitude and understanding mirrored in his gaze. You reluctantly released Hyun Su's hand, a sense of reluctance evident in your eyes. "Take care of yourself in there," you said, your voice soft but filled with genuine concern.

Hyun Su managed a small, appreciative smile. "Thank you. " I never expected someone to stand by me like this.

With a final reassuring glance, you left the quarantine room, the makeshift door closing behind you. The hallway outside seemed quieter, the echoes of the recent tumult still lingering in the air. As you stepped back into the hallway, the door closing behind you, the weight of the decision lingered. The small act of holding Hyun Su's hand, you couldn't shake the weight of the decision made and the potential consequences it held for both Hyun Su and the community.

Meanwhile, inside the quarantine room, Hyun Su took a deep breath, a mix of emotions swirling within him. Gratitude overwhelmed him for your unwavering support, and hope flickered in his eyes as he prepared to face the challenges ahead. The makeshift quarantine became a refuge, a space where the unknown awaited.

Back in the hallway, the other tenants exchanged glances, a shared uncertainty written on their faces. The community was at a crossroads, and the decisions made in the coming days would shape the fate of Green Home Apartment.

As you ventured away from the quarantine room, the weight of your commitment lingered. The promise of bringing food later held a sense of normalcy in the midst of chaos, a reminder that even in uncertain times, small gestures of kindness could make a difference. The journey ahead remained uncertain, but for now, Hyun Su found solace in the fact that someone had chosen to stand by him, reach out to him, in his time of need.

[courtney-deserved-better]

the mkulia alliance IS in character

ive heard a lot of people, some of them mkulia shippers, saying that while the evil lesbian alliance is great to watch, it isn't in character for mk and julia. however, i believe it is, and i believe it's still consistent from last season, and this is why:

facades

mk and julia were both hiding under facades in the beginning of sesaon one. mk was downplaying her skills to fly under the radar, and julia was posing as a chill influencer both to maintain her online image and not make herself a threat. these two facades had their advantages, but also their downsides. mk's contributions, specifically in the skull challenge, went unnoticed by her team, while julia had to completely hide her true personality. mk expresses frustration at everyone thinking she hadn't done anything when she got her team the win, and julia later goes on to say that it's exhausting to pretend to like yoga and whatnot. for most of the time they interact in season one, mk and julia are not behaving like their true selves.

animosity

did mk and julia have a rivalry once julia's true self was revealed? yes. did it result in mk's elimination? also yes. was mk the one to instigate that rivalry by posting the video of julia's true self? absolutely. and while they definitely had beef while this was going down, in the end, it was better for both of them. julia says that it's freeing to get to be her true self, and she even gains followers from it. the consequences of being her full nasty self don't catch up with her for a while after mk's elimination, and the worst thing that happens is julia too gets eliminated. as for mk, julia revealing that she watched everyone's confessionals means that while mk can't fly under the radar as much as she previously had, she gets to be recognized for her brains and sneakiness. because of their initial rivalry, mk and julia don't have to keep hiding their true selves.

necessity

julia and mk are both smart enough to know that in order to survive on their team, they NEED an alliance to counter the bowie-raj-wayne voting power. and seeing as scary girl was the first boot, and chase and ripper are chase and ripper, it makes sense that they would gravitate toward one another. especially with their underhanded playing styles, and especially being the only girls on the team. julia and bowie did not like each other in season one, and they still teamed up to counter the priya-millie alliance. julia has already proven to be willing to team up with people she doesn't like in order to stay in the game.

friendship

they became enemies in the first season, but after the passage of time, a necessary alliance, and most importantly, the shedding of their facades, it's reasonable that they could become friends. mk only got to interact with the real julia for an episode's worth of time, and julia never really got to see the real mk. now, she's watching mk steal an intern's uniform, sneak into production meetings, stash cheating supplies, and get the challenge answers from computers. julia is seeing a whole new side of mk, and as someone who appreciates vicious, strategic competitors like herself, i can absolutely see julia growing to like the real mk. and mk doesn't have to hide her true self from her team anymore, as she can be very upfront about cheating.

despite her rivalry with bowie, julia also had moments when she enjoyed being in an alliance with him (talking in the confessional about how they both thought they would be in the final after priya and millie were supposedly dead via avalanche) and trusted that he had her back (not thinking that he would double cross her and vote for her instead of millie even though it was the smarter move for him). i think it would make sense for julia to enjoy an alliance with mk and admire her clever thinking.

as for mk, yes, julia got her booted last season, but mk instigated that by exposing the real julia, and i think she's aware of that. i also think that even though she was the first person to see the real julia, mk still didn't understand that she wasn't just a mean girl with an influencer persona, she's a force to be reckoned with. julia loses it for her team in the episode mk is eliminated in, so mk doesn't get to see julia doing great in other challenges before her own screentime is over. i believe mk underestimated julia when she exposed her.

seeing as emma was able to watch the episode where she thought chase was performing an act of love for her when it was really just for pizza, it's completely reasonable for mk and julia to watch or at least know of each other's actions in the last season that they didn't get to witness in person. their first direct interaction is complimenting each other's moves/style, meaning that they have a greater understanding of how the other girl operates than they did last season.

because of how they play/interact with others, mk and julia don't have many friends. the closest thing julia has is bowie, who's more like her rival, while everyone else knows she's mean and doesn't like her. meanwhile nobody on mk's team would like her after she stole their stuff, and nobody else would like her for secretly watching their "private" confessionals. it makes sense to me that not only would they latch onto the other girl out of necessity, but because they're someone who can actually appreciate their play style and not turn against them because of it. not to mention mk can finally hang out with someone who likes her sarcasm for a change.

and while mk and julia definitely act like they have a romance plot in the future (and god i hope they do), i don't think their interactions together are very out of character even though they're praising one another and enjoying each other's company. julia is still mean and enjoys people getting hurt, mk is still devious and has no qualms about cheating, they just get to scheme and sabotage with someone by their side now. and while this development was unexpected even for a lot of us mkulia shippers, it is hardly unwelcome, and to me, hardly illogical. thank you for coming to my td talk.

[clarks-letterman]

daring | jacob custos x reader

a/n — wanted to make this different from my last jacob fic! again, writing to escape the slump so it might not be as good as usual!

summary — A game of truth or dare goes wrong when the counselors hear something outside of the cabin. You and Jacob go to check it out...

warnings — drinking, swearing, a bit of oral (jacob receiving), rimming (jacob receiving)

words — 3.3k

~~~

One thing about the outdoors was that it was quiet and slow. The night drug on and felt as endless as the forest. The atmosphere around Hackett's Quarry didn't feel much different, being the hearth in front of the warmth and spirit brought alive by the campers and counselors. Somewhere, lost in the passion, likely at the last cabin in a U-shaped order of identical structures, did it ignite into that fire. Alcohol carried that flame as it burned down everyone’s throat, and the contents of the cans evaporated, to which now laid in a pile under one of the unused bunks in case the big bad wolf—Mr. Hackett—stopped by to blow the roof off the closest thing that would come to be a party at Hackett’s Quarry.

"Jacob," Emma draws on the name, letting the syllables leave a pronunciated taste of sweetness on her lips, "I asked you: truth or dare?"

You noticed that, to Jacob, her salt looked like sweet sugar. He was willing to do whatever pleased her, and that reflected itself in his answer. “Dare.”

Emma bit her lip and smiled, “I dare you to. . .wear a piece of my clothing.”

“Do I get to choose?” Jacob pried. He sounded interested, and you figured that he probably would choose her bra or something immediately available on her, like the loose pair of sweatpants or tight spaghetti-strap hiding under a blue baggy cropped sweater. Emma knew better.

“Let’s take a vote.” Emma looked around in a circle, meeting the line of eyes as she waited for a response. Everyone sat facing each other in one big circle, and Kaitlyn, who sat two spots over from Jacob, skipping right over Dylan, put her opinion in.

“I think it should be the dealer’s choice,” she admitted.

Dylan turned to argue with Kaitlyn, “No way, the dude should get the choice since she came up with the dare.”

”I’m fine with Emma choosing for him,” Abby chided. Kaitlyn ignored Dylan to speak directly to her, “Thank you. See?”

The remainder of the group went, and finally, you. You sent the decision into a majority rule, and it was settled: Jacob would be able to pick his own humiliation. Jacob almost wanted to kiss you for unknowingly letting his preferred outcome happen. The question became not if he was embarrassed by the thought, but what he would choose to strut through the door in that he promptly exited with Emma tugging on his arm like a thick leash. In her absence, she left a promise that she would be back with expecting eyes trained on the door. That left you, Dylan, Kaitlyn, Ryan, Nick, and Abigail in the room.

Soon after, the two returned to a sprawl of low conversations that were interrupted as the old wooden door crept open with a creak. Emma entered first with her back turned to you and the rest of the group, only interacting with Jacob on the outside. She told him to wait for a cue, and he responded with a laugh about her dramatics. She turned to face the group, her glassy eyes falling on you first before looking around the half-circle.

“After a long wait, I present to you. . .” Emma bounced on her toes, “Jacob!”

She moved off to the side of the door, watching the reveal for herself as everyone joined in gazing at the widening space in the wall. Jacob pushed the door inwards and came into the light of the cabin, the soft glow casting a shadow on his torso where his newly-fitted brown cropped sweater ended. His thighs, which had previously been covered by solid denim, were now replaced by taut, pink nylon shorts that struggled to contain his tree-trunk-like thighs, and you couldn’t help but look at the ax-grinding right between his carved trunks. He also had on a different pair of less-than-pristine white canvas high-tops, which contrasted the dome of his head being covered by the same black baseball cap. Flipped backward, as expected.

“So that’s all yours, Emma?” Nick asked.

“No,” Jacob answered for her as he strutted to the center of the now mostly complete circle and posed, placing a hand on his hip, “These are mine, obviously. Why do you think I look so good in them?”

“And the—and the shoes, too. ‘Cause, obviously,” he followed.

While Jacob modeled himself, you noticed a thin separation between his shorts and his torso. A skinny piece of fabric shifted just above the band of his pink shorts, something that matched the color and looked like an entirely different thing underneath them. He must have failed to mention it or intentionally forgot about the fact that he put it on. You figured that it was the latter, given that Jacob had an issue with oversharing (circa the start of summer when he pulled, in what could only ever make sense coming out of his speak-before-think mouth, "The finest chick at camp.")

“That’s it?” You asked, hoping he would reveal it to your curious eye.

He kept posing, striking more complex stances that beefed up his upper body by puffing out his chest, “Oh, sorry, didn’t realize you wanted more.”

You receded, “It’s fine, Jake. I was just kidding.”

He brushed it off by not acknowledging it at all and returning to his spot in the group's circle, which was a little unnerving. Jacob accepted defeat when he was rightfully toppled over in a conversation but never exited without leaving a snarky comment in his place. The group found their way down the path of truth or dare again, and according to their rules, the dare victim became the one in control.

The second he learned of his power, he looked directly at you and called your name, "Truth or dare?"

"It's only fair. Dare." You admitted with a dreaded swirl in your gut. A jock without inhibitions could mean that anything goes, and the night had already taken the turn of trying on clothes that weren't the proper size; who knows where else it could go? Jacob sat puzzled by the endless things he could make you do. Oh, the things he wanted to make you do. To satisfy himself, but more importantly, to inflate his big personality.

"I dare you to—what the fuck was that?" Jacob exclaimed.

"I didn't hear anything," Emma spoke without a thought behind her eyes. She smiled blankly in an attempt to reassure the panicked jock.

He tried to defend himself, "Yeah, well, it sounded like a bear. . . or something."

You interjected, "When have you ever—"

"Shh—shush." He hushed everyone in the room.

"You should go out there, Jacob. Maybe you can finally use that body you're always talking about to keep that bear occupied for a few minutes," Kaitlyn spoke, "It'll finally shut something up."

He lifted himself to the ground and strode to the door, "Yeah-yeah, fuck you. All of you, actually."

She ignored his insult. "Take some backup for help."

"I'll go." You offered.

He looked at you with gratitude, "Thank you, and I'm sorry for fucking you."

He held the door open for you, and you went first onto the deck and down the small row of steps. You heard his footsteps follow close behind. The placid night swept over the two of you as the ripples of sundown carried away the day's motion, and only your and Jacob's entrance into the still night could bring it to life again, even in fear.

After a slow lap around the cabin, with only the swish of Jacob's running shorts to remind you of his presence as he kept his unusually sewn-shut tongue behind invisible strings. It urged you to break the silence, “You never gave me a dare.”

He peered at you. Suspicion, expressed blatantly, “Didn’t realize we were still playing.”

“You started it when you came in with those shorts,” you remarked.

"Really?"

"You know, you look—uh, good in them." Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe you were delusional, but you couldn't help yourself. The move had to be played now or the game would switch to something you didn't know the rules of.

"Thanks for noticing." He teased.

You weren't sure how to bring it up, "Speaking of, I noticed something under them."

"It pairs with it, right?"

"Totally." You agreed. It was hard to go wrong with the matching colors. "But why—"

"Jesus Christ, I dare you to pull these off. . ." Jacob dug his thumbs into the elastic of his running shorts, stretching them out. The threading around his lips broke, pulled apart by neediness. He used the freedom of his lips to press them to yours—his being notably rougher and less taken care of than others at camp. You had trouble believing that the words chapstick and hygiene float around often in the boy's cabin. "I wanted you to see it."

The feeling of Jacob laying out a hint to you was enticing, and you were ready to take the bait further down. Your hands dove in, pulling down his shorts to his ankles and reaching for the thin tri-pointed cloth covering his dick. He was already chubbing-up and pushing the small mask to its limit, and you cupped a hand over it, feeling his still soft dick and balls overfill your hand. You thought about how your hand would smell and maybe taste like him if he set the boundaries at simply hand stuff. But a single worry cannon-balled into your thoughts to disrupt the flow: what if DylanRyanNickEmmaAbbyKaitlyn saw?

"What about everyone inside? They'll see this, too." You went to pull your hand away, but Jacob brought it back to its rightful place with his rough-skinned one. Your palm felt warmer—he felt warmer. The cloth could turn to bits of scattered ash and ember from the heat, and you wouldn't question it.

"They won't," he confidently stated. Another kiss and even more nonchalance, "If they do, they'll see this beast. Scarier than a stupid fucking bear, right?"

"Right."

Moving the thin, nearly tearing cloth to the side is the reason why you're about to act in the way that you do. He flopped out, albeit a little unceremoniously, as the support of your hand on his dick was gone. Jacob was big and much scarier than your first sip of beer from earlier in the night because he wasn't just a sip. He was the whole can. He was the type to bottom out and pound and pour and bottom out and repeat.

You looked at him, taking him into your gentle hand, "What first?"

Jacob took a moment to think. "You tell me. Dare or dare?"

His chocolate irides guided your impossible-to-make decision, "That's a hard one. I think I'll go with a dare."

"I dare you to get on your knees for me." There was a moment of silence where the only noise was a light shuffle and whir of fabric rubbing against itself. Your knees sank onto dirt packed in by hundreds of happy campers, and you were about to give Jacob an ending to the night that would make him feel just as happy being there.

Cast in the soft glow of a lantern a camper must have left nearby, a brief glance over to it revealed that it rested on an old tree stump, it shined a light on your endeavor to do something you had never done before. If you were still in the cabin, the dare could have been something as easy as stealing something from Mr. Hackett’s office or shotgunning the next beer you might have decided to drink. But now you were outside, surrounded by the darkness as your only witness with one faint light not too far off. Light from the window above poured out, too, but it served as less of a guiding gleam and more of a reminder that you were in the shadows of vigilantes in the cabin. One loud moan or even something as stupid as losing your balance could draw their attention, and that was the last thing you wanted.

Maybe you could use the experience of shotgunning at this moment; to recall the feeling of a sudden rush flowing into your mouth. The opposite happened when his tip went past your lips, though. Jacob was slow and careful with familiarizing his cock with your mouth. He could have done it for his own sake, or he was just being a tease.

"Fuck," Jacob moaned. "You're hot. So fucking hot." He ended his praise on a high note, almost sounding giddy,

You managed to get a good movement going from the tip to about halfway down his dick. When your mouth got to the halfway point–made clear by how his pink tip faded to white by that point–he nudged the back of your throat. But on one of the trips down his cock, taking the usual jaunt past your lips, and molars, carefully watching your teeth altogether, Jacob felt the right, or even the need, to make you take all of it. You gagged, sputtering out a cough as you choked on him. "Should've warned me, Jake."

"Notasfun." Jacob ghosted your throat, pushing himself back into the back of your mouth and slowly pulling farther and farther out until he actually pulled himself out. He did stop as you had hoped for but not without some kind of trade in mind. Jacob let his slobbery cock fall on your face, credulously asking as if he knew the answer, "You want more?"

"Uh-huh," you moaned. Jacob laughed, "Good, 'cause that was only half of the delivery and only the first dare. Still got a dump truck for you."

Jacob turned around, bunching up what he could of his already shortened sweater to make sure everything in his backside was in view. His thick thighs lead to two pale moons, with a thin pink line running over the tops of both and going down his crack to circle under and cradle everything he had just taken out in the front. It looked a little bit uneven, likely from the events happening on the flip-side of where you were now–on the bright side of the moon.

His shoes were rough against the dirt path paved out by years of dozens of feet running across it, making small crunch sounds as he spread his legs out and bent over. He beckoned you forward by waving his hips side-to-side. You peeled apart his cheeks–and now it felt like the dark side with the hair smattered along the inner parts of both. A place where light didn’t shine, thanks to Emma and her prudity, and his moons appeared as crescents in the night, thanks to you and your dare.

Jacob noticed the lack of your nose or mouth getting to work, “Eat up, baby. You know you need this snack to sober up after all that drinking.”

“You were making me nervous, Jake…” And he still was in this moment. You moved the pink strap out of your way to look at what exactly you would be tasting.

He played it off, “Yeah, I totally meant to do that.”

Leaning your face forward, his wiry asshair lightly crosses your chin and the sides of your cheeks. It became the scruff on your face as the hair rubbed against your chin with every movement. You couldn’t please him without the sensation of his hair scratching you. You couldn’t do it without taking him in, his ass overwhelming your senses and weighing down on your face as he did his best to keep himself from grinding back onto your face.

Could you really stop now? If you did, you might as well have considered yourself notasfun. He felt your hot breath take in his musky scent and release it, begging you to do it again. You weren't going anywhere. The way he smelled was anything but a turn-off—almost sweet and sweaty in one, a nearly perfect blend of alternating tastes to linger on your palate. The smell was just as good. Some of it was his natural stink, the rest being made up of whatever he used to clean himself with in the communal showers. You couldn’t help but wonder when this dare would end, if it had an end in sight. Maybe it would be over when the sun came up, or if everyone exited the cabin in time to see all of this happening, but the longer it went on, the better. The taste you picked up on with your wet tongue became addictive, and Jacob seemed to love the feeling just as much.

"You taste so fucking good," you told him between laps. You found yourself being pressed deeper into his crack, and all you can think about is his muscled ass finally shutting you up.

It was his hand raking through your hair. He wanted you to be closer, “This dare isn’t over yet, keep going…”

That was the sign that it was time to step up your game. Your method of licking the same area once over wasn’t cutting it for a guy who seemed like he would fuck in the same position every night. You started to let the tip of your tongue wander through his hole, being surrounded by all sides and getting a taste of Jacob from the inside. Soon, it became a quick and erratic motion of assaulting his hole by moving your head back and forth and your tongue along with it.

As you steered course, it seemed to be working since Jacob audibly shuddered. “Oh, shit, dude. I dare you to make me come.”

And that was the sign that your actions worked, but you knew there was one more thing you could do. So far, your hands hand just been free, resting on your own body or Jake’s wide ass to keep yourself steady. The idea to lay them in his sensitive areas, most notably his dick and balls, which had been touched very little since their acquaintance with your mouth just a short while ago, came to you. You reached around to grab his standing cock with one hand while the other went under and between his legs to fondle his low-hangers. Jacob shuddered in a way that you could feel, a quick “fuck” slipping out that sounded like it was only meant for him.

You noticed how Jacob still had his cropped sweater still bunched up in his hands at the front by looking at how the back of it was taut around his waist. He always had a hold of it—even if it was with just one hand—and he seemed to be clutching it as a way to prevent himself from coming, or so you thought it was for that. When he did come, spurting massive globs over your hand and shooting some ropes of it on the dirt at his feet and likely hitting the lattice fence under the cabin, he finally dropped it. You felt and could see his legs shake while he kept your nose and mouth buried between his crack, only letting you back off when he knew he was tapped out.

“That was too good, dude.” Jacob complimented. He bent down to pull his shorts back up, then he finally let go of the brown fabric. A second later, he was standing straight up with his shorts in place, the pink thong mostly covered besides the slight raise between the hem and the actual strap of it as he had done before.

“Yeah? What do I get for it?” You smacked his now-clothed ass with an eager smirk. Jacob looked at you, noticing that your face was damp from slicking him up with your saliva, and wiped a bit off with his sleeve. The same arm that the sleeve covered found its way over your shoulders, directing you in the opposite way of the cabin with the rest of the counselors.

A stupid smile crossed his face, “All the dares you want! We got all night!”

[emmyrosee]

hii! if your requests are open, can i ask for a fluffy time skip kenma x hard of hearing fem reader? maybe they can bake an apple pie together on a stream or something 😫 but if not it's totally okay! i understand that not everyone is willing to write about things like that, so you don't have to include the hard of hearing detail but it'd be greatly appreciated if you did!

btw i love your writing! keep doing what you're doing :)) 🖤🖤

You’re nervous. He sees that.

While you’re no stranger to Kenma’s streams or videos, it’s the first time you’d be doing a… collaborative effort, rather than just conversing with him, and it has your head spinning slightly to try and work on the ways you'll be able to communicate with him.

He tells you his holiday stream can wait, and he's more than happy to make this an easy video for you both; you tell him to shut up.

"I'll be fine," you groan. "It's not like I can't hear you, it just takes a second to hit.”

“That’s not the point,” he says simply, watching as you continue to set up pots and pans to bake with, pausing briefly to keep you from getting lost in the clattering of metal. “The stream doesn’t have to be us baking or anything like that. We can just play overcooked or something.”

“They voted for this.”

“I don’t care what they voted for.”

“Yeah, see, that’s where we differ,” you tease, and you walk over to him and tug him to a hug. “Besides, look at the queue to get into the stream; do you really want to be the big, bad Kodzuken who ruined Christmas for his fans as the donate to the shelter-“

“They should be donating regardless of what we do.”

“I know, but we still need the incentive.” He quirks a brow at you and you roll your eyes. “You’re being dramatic, babe. I’ll be fine!”

He holds his hands up in mercy, then leans forwards to start the stream, slender fingers peeking out from his hoodie sleeve to start it.

“OH!”

Instantly, you turn on your heel to look at him, his fingers just a few inches away from starting the show.

“No signs Kenma,” you say firmly, which makes his brow cock in confusion. “I mean it; I don’t need your viewers to… see.”

“See what?” He asks genuinely. “That you have a hearing disorder?”

“Yes!”

“Baby, they know-“

“Yeah, but…” you sigh softly. “They don’t need to see it in action. I’m sure I can hear you fine. We'll just have to work a little bit slower is all."

He opens his mouth to speak, but you quickly make your way to grab some more ingredients, sure to tune him out from whatever he could say. You hear him sigh, and he quickly shuffles over to you to let you know he’s going to start the stream.

Immediately, there’s so much happening it’s almost overwhelming.

Right off the bat, there’s donations flying, alerts ringing in the air of your spacious kitchen and echoing back through to rattle your skull. Kenma tries to talk just a hair louder than everything else, just to keep the flow of any potential conversation going.

You know he’s trying to help… but it’s not exactly helping as much as he thinks it is.

You feel your palms shaking and growing clammy, trying to ignore his questions and comments and focus on the recipe that you can see from the counter.

Bless his heart, he’s working at the end of the day, but he ends up focusing more on the scrolling chat than trying to help you to make a semi-actually edible pie.

Of course you could read the cookbook. That’s not the point. You want to interact with him, you want to pay attention to him, but you’re completely discombobulated, trying to work efficiently and cooly without being both, efficient and cool.

The sounds of his donations and notifications throw off the flow of what you are able to make out, his lips moving but the words not quite hitting your mind.

And you freeze.

Your hands on the bag of sugar freeze, nails digging slightly into the manila in an attempt to keep yourself grounded. The grains shift under your grip, and you try to focus on the texture rather than the heating up of your cheeks.

You’re not sure how much time has passed before Kenma finally, gently, touches your shoulder, snapping you out of a daze and bringing you back down to him. He smiles, “hey angel.”

“Ken…”

“I had to turn down the dono’s; they just got a little too loud for me,” he says, letting a hand gently rub down your back to soothe you. “I hope that’s okay.”

He’s lying, for your sake. You’ve never been more in love with him.

You nod shakily, “yeah no, that’s… that’s fine. Just let me know if there’s a big donation to celebrate.”

“Will do.”

He wraps an arm around you, dramatically for camera purposes but still enough to keep you grounded and comfortable in his grip.

“Just relax,” he encourages, kissing your temple before pulling back and offering you a sign with his hands low by his hips. Cinnamon. “I think we need cinnamon.”

You blink in confusing before he smiles softly. You beam back at him and nod softly, “right! For the filling! Be right back.”

You hear a small call from Kenma, but he’ll have to talk about it later. Once you’re at the cabinet, you rest your head against the cool wood, letting in a sharp breath before slipping it back out. He talks some more, a little bit easier to process now that you’re still, and all you can do is smile to yourself while he acknowledges chat.

You told him you’d be just fine.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Not my cup of tea

Word count: 2400+

Warnings: mentions of sex

You voted for this one to be posted, so here you are. I hope you'll enjoy it

I'm sorry for any mistakes as English isn't my first language 🫣

"Y/N, are you listening?" Mor gently touched your hand. The faint smell of cedar and mist reached your nose. He was about to walk in to the living room where you were talking with your best friend.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Actually..I'm afraid I have to go," you hurriedly excused yourself and walked through the closest wall.

It was exactly a week since you slept with Azriel and ever since then you were avoiding him at any cost. You truly loved him and were used to spend a lot of time around him, so this new situation was a real torment.

It all started when after years of flirting with each other Azriel finally asked you out. You were so happy and thrilled that he willed to deepen your relationship. You had eyes for shadowsinger since you two met, so it was a dream-comes-true situation. It took only few dates and you ended up in his bed.

It was perfect until that night, ideal. There was absolutely nothing to indicate that it could turn out this way. Not even the slightest hint. However the night became the turning point for you. Well, sex itself was amazing. He was amazing and you enjoyed that part, but problem was in everything else. Azriel seemed to have a thing for spanking, degradation, bondage and other similar practices that weren't to your taste at all.

You were ashamed and your heart screamed in pain because he was fantastic male who deserved to be loved and especially, Azriel deserved to have partner who would share the same interests. Unfortunately it couldn't be you. As much as it hurt, it was the fact you had to learn to live with. Problem was that you didn't know how to tell him and you were afraid you could hurt his feelings, so you were rather running away and hiding. You needed time to think it over and find the right words.

You were invited to a dinner in the House of Wind and there's no doubt Azriel would be there, too. You wished you could refuse the invitation, but the dinner was in honor of very important guests, so you had to go. All day long you were thinking how to attend and avoid him at the same time, but you didn't come up with anything useful.

And so with a heavy heart you prepared and went to the dinning room. As soon as you entered you scanned the gathered group and with relieve you found out Azriel wasn't there yet. It gave you some time to do the necessary greetings and socialization. It was time to sit to the table and he still wasn't there. You allowed yourself to relax a bit and took a deep breath. Maybe he had to go to some mission or something urgently needed his attention.

You were about to pick up the spoon and start to eat when you smelled the familiar intoxicating scent. You turned toward the end of the table and saw a glimmer of blue siphon. You panicked for a moment, drops of sweat forming on your forehead. There wasn't time to run away without being noticed by the whole party and shadowsinger. For once you were glad you had unique powers and merged with the chair.

Azriel walked into the dining room and immediately glanced over the people gathered around the table. He was sure you would be here, so he was late on purpose, waiting till everyone was seated. Even in the room full of people he could smell your scent, fresh and strong. You were in there.

He spent the week looking for you, but without success. Anytime he thought he caught you, you simply vanished most likely using the powers that he adored so much. It would make you a great spy, but unfortunately you didn't feel up to the job.

Your behaviour was really strange and unusual and Azriel was afraid it had something to do with the night you'd spent together. He thought you liked it and enjoyed it even more than him, but it seemed he was wrong.

Whatever the problem was, Azriel just wanted to hear it from your mouth. He needed to know what you didn't like, so he wouldn't repeat the same mistake next time. He knew how you felt about him and he felt the same way about you, that's why he dared to ask you out. You were perfect for him and he was decided to do anything to convince you to stay with him even though there were moments when he felt undeserving of somebody as good as you.

Shadowsinger spotted free seat next to Nesta, your second best friend. If you attended which you definitely did, she would know where to look for you. He headed towards her and sat down. "Have you seen Y/N tonight?" he asked bluntly.

Nesta looked at him in surprise. "She was sitting right here a while ago. I didn't notice she left."

"I see," Shadowsinger murmured. It was really strange. Your scent was as strong here as if you were sitting on his lap. His eyes widened as he finally realized what was happening. He had to laugh at himself that he hadn't thought of it sooner. Smirking Azriel picked up spoon and started to eat.

Hidden in the chair that Azriel was seated on, you were waiting for the best moment to slip through the floor to the room under the dining room. You were so nervous, you couldn't even remember what was down there. You waited almost until the desserts. Azriel was engaged in heated conversation with Cassian, his full attention trained on him. This was your chance.

You slowly materialized under the chair. You had to be very careful not to touch his long legs or sensitive wings. Mentally you prepared for hard impact from a height and slowly started to merge through the floor. When you were half through, your lower body hanging in the air in the other room, you inhaled deeply, closed eyes and holding breath you let go. Instead of a fall that would end in a great pain you landed on some tall piece of furniture.

Shakily exhaling you looked around. You were in a small family library. You looked down from the bookcase hoping to find a ladder that should be somewhere nearby. You found it resting against row of opposite bookcases. You sighed.

You were thinking about the best way how to get down, when a deep voice startled you. "What are you doing up there?"

Azriel was leaning against the bookcase on the end of aisle, arms crossed on chest, playful smirk on his face, shadows swirling behind his back. Your throat tightened. You totally forgot about his shadows. They most likely saw your pathetic escape attempt and reported it to him.

"I..I was just.."you couldn't come up with any good excuse.

He pushed off of the bookcase, lazily walking closer. "Let me help you," he stopped under you, holding out his scarred hands.

Heat consumed your face, but nodding you accepted. Azriel put you down as easily as if you were just a feather. But instead of letting you go, he pressed you to his broad chest. Smell of cedar filled your lungs and dulled all your senses. You could feel his hot breath in the crook of your neck, his eyes closed. One scarred hand travelled up your back and slipped into your hair. It felt so good, so right that a small moan escaped you. Only then you realized how much you'd missed him, how much you needed him. You wanted to stay like this for the rest of your life.

"What happened?" his voice was so gentle, no more than a whisper. With a jerk you sobered up immediately. It was just simple question, but it stabbed straight to the heart like a dagger. You swallowed hard.

Azriel pulled back a bit so he could look you in the eyes. "Was it too soon? Or did I hurt you? Didn't you like it?" These and other questions haunted him all the week. Now when he had finally found you, they poured out of him like water from a broken dam.

A silver lined your eyes and your lips wobbled. You couldn't look at him any longer. You shook your head, trying to get out of his grip, but he wouldn't let you. His fingers gripped you even harder, pulling you to his strong body.

"Please, don't. Tell me what I did wrong. Please," he begged you desperately. He was so vulnerable at this moment and you knew how hard it's for him to let someone in, to show his weaknesses, to beg for things he wanted. It wasn't easy at all for him to show such a vulnerability. It was against his nature. Yet for you he didn't hesitate.

"You did nothing wrong," you sobbed.

"I had to do something. You are avoiding me ever since then. Please, tell me what it is. Didn't you like the sex?" You shook your head. "So I hurt you."

"No, you never." Brows furrowed, he studied your face, looking for an answer, a hint, anything that would help him to understand.

"I'm trying to understand it, but I can't. I don't want to loose you. Please, tell me what you don't like and I will change."

His words were breaking your heart. It hurt so much to listen how he saw himself, how he considered himself to be bad person, undeserving, hurting others. First tears rolled down your face. "Please, stop it. There's nothing wrong with you. You don't have to change something you enjoy for anybody. It's me, I'm the problem."

He shook head. "Please.."

"You deserve to be with somebody who likes same things. But unfortunately it isn't me. Even though I really wish I could be the one."

"I'm not sure what you mean, but I assure you I can change. Just tell me." Closing eyes he rested his forehead on yours. You knew him enough to notice that he was trying hard to stay calm, not to burst out. You also knew he wasn't angry, not for real. Azriel was just very desperate and determined. "Y/N...Whatever it is, spit it out. Please," he groaned through clenched teeth, gently shaking your shoulders.

There was no other way but to tell him. Azriel wouldn't let you be, if you refused. You couldn't even make up some blunt, because he was the spymaster and he would know you lied. You felt so embarrassed, you had to shut your eyes close. Shakily you inhaled. "Okay..." even your voice was weak and trembling. "I.. well.. you remember as you bounded my hands behind my back, called me your whore.. and the other names.. also those punishments when I didn't answer properly.." You couldn't continue. But apparently it wasn't necessary.

Azriel's hands dropped and he took few steps back. He leaned against the bookcase running fingers through his dark hair. He was pale. "So basically all except the sex part," he mumbled. You nodded.

Groaning he sat down and covered his face with scarred hands. Suddenly he started to laugh so much he cried. You'd never seen him laugh so hard. You were confused and worried. "Azriel.. are you okay?" You wanted to touch him, but you weren't sure if it's good idea right now.

Finally he caught his breath and looked up at you. "Thank Cauldron," he said still smiling wide. "I hated that, too."

Wide-eyed you dropped to your knees. "What do you mean?" you whispered.

"As I said, I didn't like it, too," he laughed again.

"So why did you do that?"

"I thought you like it. That's why."

Now you had to laugh. "But why? Where did you get such an idea?"

"Those spicy novels you read. I noticed there is one you reread again and again, so I thought you must really like what's written there and tried to imitate some of those sex scenes."

Both of you burst into laughter.

"You really read it? Just because you thought I like it?" You laughed so much your stomach hurt.

"I did. Several times to make sure I remember what Im supposed to do," he admitted wiping his tears. You leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"It's so sweet of you." He pulled you into his arms and kissed you, enjoying the moment.

"I'd do anything for you." Pulling you even closer he looked deep into your eyes. You wrapped arms around his shoulders playing with the soft hair on the nape of his neck.

"Thank you," you whispered resting your head on his shoulder. Surrounded by his calming scent and warmth you sat there in silence for a while.

"Can I tell you a secret?" you whispered to his hot skin.

"Sure," smiling he whispered back.

"I don't like those novels. They are quite too spicy for me and I'm not fond of what males do to females, the way they interact with them. But I like Nesta and the girls. Every time we have sleepover party or just hang out, they talk about those books a lot. I want to be able to join the conversation and that's the only reason I read them."

"Dove, I'm sure the girls wouldn't like you any less even if you didn't read those horrible novels," Azriel chuckled on the last two words. "Nesta is your best friend. No need to push yourself so hard over something you don't enjoy."

"I know," you sighed. "By the way," you bit down on your lower lip, glad he couldn't see your face now, "if you don't like to do it like in those books, then how do you like it?"

Even from this angle you could see his cheeks turned pink. "Well, about that..," Azriel nervously cleared his throat. "I'd love to show you myself, but I understand that after the previous fiasco you might be against it."

One of his shadows picked a book from shelf and put it into his stretched hand. "Maybe this could convince you to give me one more chance." He handed you the book. You gasped when you read the title. It was one of your most favourite novels.

"If this is what you like," you smiled and kissed the tip of his nose," then we could go to your room and try it out. What do you think?"

"I'm in," Azriel said and standing up with you in his arms he headed to his room.

[butch-pyrate]

OK, but the way the red suit is also a metaphor for Edward.

Let me explain, Jim says that by taking the suit Stede has invited the devil in their lives without thinking about the crew. During the wedding raid, Edward calls himself "The Devil" and he has also been invited into the crews life against their wishes.

Stede is perfectly comfortable wearing the red suit and enjoys being Edward's company. He's more than willing to ignore The Curse™ along with the horrible things that Ed did to the crew, expecting everyone to accept Edward's Not-An-Actual-Apology and allow him back on board even though they all just voted him off the ship.

Izzy explains to Stede that the curse is a curse because it effects the crew and their ability to be comfortable on the ship. Which is bitter sweet since he has to create a fictional event to cope with the less of his leg and force himself to be comfortable on the ship even when it's housing his abuser and the abuser of several of his crew members.

Despite Izzy's warning, Stede counties to not only keep the suit but to flaunt it every moment it, showing it off even while aware that it makes the crew feel unsafe. Like wise, instead of making Edward make amends with the crew, he puts some eye and ear grabbing accessories on Edward and says to just "fit in better" and that people will eventually feel comfortable around him again, not actually addressing the problem and instead insisting it will go away on it's own.

The crew attempts to rip the suit from Stede, much like half of them tried to kill Edward when he finally went too far. The suit escapes damaged and Izzy gives Stede the good old "I told you so".

Stede is eventually forced to confront the crew and with Izzy's guidance makes a passing apology where he acknowledges that ignoring their feeling was fucked up and that there is validity to their experiences even if they aren't his own. (after all, to him, Edward has been a sweetheart. After all, the suit hasn't done anything to harm him. He's in love with the suit, it's beautiful and comfortable and fun.)

Stede gives the suit away but keeps the shirt. Perhaps suggesting that Stede will step up as a boyfriend and help Edward process his actions and feelings beyond telling him to fit in more and as captain hold him accountable for what he did during the kraken-era beyond putting him in a cat bell.

And after all the trauma, violence, and pain has been exercised, the crew will be able to be comfortable around Ed, accepting the fine fabric of the suits under shirt is perhaps accepting the red heart that beats under all the smudged coal of the kraken.

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Male Yandere Husband x Pregnant Female Stepford Wife Reader

(I don’t think you’ve done anything like this yet? So if not, think you can try?)

I want him to be a master manipulator, but really delusional in a loving/devoted sense. Believing that what he’s doing is for our best interest, as well as the baby’s. That includes confining us at home, always being with us 24/7 when we’re outside our home, etc. And generally getting us to be 100% dependent on him, (like we already weren’t heavily dependent on him before…)

Thank you!!! 💝

Yandere! Husband! Politician x Pregnant! Fem! Stepford! Wife! Reader

SORRY IT TOOK ME LONG TO GET THIS REQUEST DONE!

I got busy with University that I only got to write right now. I'm so tired lol

Journalism is... Something...

I had a hard time incorporating the yandere stuff with such a willing reader, but I tried LOL.

This one's only got two sections, since the both of you are married already, so it went straight to the yandere-ness.

But here ya go! Requests will be back on once more!

BTW, the master list is up now! It's my pinned post.

Yandere! Politician name: Maximus

Maximus.

Just like his name, he was the greatest Politician out there. Whatever that means.

He's charming, intuitive, generous, kind, and compassionate.

Every election season, if you ask people who will they vote as a mayor or whatever position Maximus ran as, they'll say

"Isn't it obvious? Of course it's Maximus!"

So it didn't faze the people that he won whenever he ran.

As young as he is, he's always been active in the political sphere. From the student council, he's always been in the highest positions out there. Secretary, Vice President, and President.

Hell, if you ask him to do treasury, then he'll gladly accept and do it much better than the current treasurer or auditor. No specks, no crumbs, a clean liquidation sheet.

And when he graduated as the University president, local parties flocked towards him to invite him in their political party.

So many choices for the great Maximus.

After many days of researching and finding out the dirt, secrets, strengths, and weaknesses of each political party, he chose a party suited for the straight laced man.

That, and that you were there.

You were the unlisted assistant of your father, who was running as vice mayor, and is finding a mayor to be with.

This was perfect.

Maximus has always liked you.

Scratch that.

He always loved you.

You were the daughter of a well known governor inside your city. Pristine, shy, quiet, and always had a smile in your face, everyone back in school liked you. You were the epitome of etiquette and manners. If parents want somebody to compare to their child to belittle them, it would be you, little miss perfect.

Both of you live in a small city, almost a town size. So everyone knew each other, and you both lived in the same district.

it's just that he didn't fly under your radar from how busy he is.

Unlike your father, you never joined politics. You just sat there, studied, did some small knitting projects or sewing. Maybe even drawing if you felt like it.

At first, Maximus didn't really pay you any attention, until he heard your conversation with your friends.

"What? Seriously?"

"I am serious." Your melodious laugh echoed through the empty halls. It was already 5pm, and only a handful of students are left.

"But... That's so traditional lol."

"I know, but really. I just want to stay at home, serve my husband, take care of our kids... You know, the gist."

"But, you said you'll do Social work, Home eco, or culinary in Uni. So what's up with that?"

You just smiled at your friends until they said "oh..." in understanding.

Those courses can help develop your home rearing skills.

"I mean, sure. If you're happy with that." One of your friends finally broke the silence, followed by "meh's..." "eh..." and grunts of approval.

"Thank you for accepting for who I am." You smiled once more at them and they gave you an understanding grin.

Then and there, Maximus became curious about you.

Maximus also had a traditional way of thinking. Not all women, but his wife should just be staying pretty in his home, while taking care of their children...

He knew that only a small percentage of people would be open to that notion, and he was fine with it.

It did made him feel lonely sometimes. He's always dreamt of a domestic life, but the woman is always a faceless grey glob. He just can't see somebody in his life who would be willing to be like that.

So when he heard your conversation, that night in his dreams, he woke up sweating and confused when the faceless glob greeted him. But rather than the glob, it was you. Smiling with two children who looked like the exact perfect mix of the both of you.

"What the fuck..." He breathed out of his mouth, shaking his head.

Now, every night, his dreams were infiltrated with you.

And that started in highschool, all throughout University, up until you both graduated.

Your paths never crossed once more, since he's in AP classes most of the time, both of you were on different blocks in senior highschool despite having the same strand, and he chose Political Science in University while you did BS in Home Economics. But he always peeled his eyes for you. Dismissal, lunch, even breaks.

His friends teased him for having such a long time crush, and he just laughed and waved his hand.

And when the both of you graduated, he's about to confess his feelings when he saw you talking with a man, with eyes so wide and filled with adoration.

He felt his heart break.

He was numb, standing there and looking at you interact with the man who was smiling down at you with a ruffle on your hair.

He felt irrationally jealous.

Wait, him? Jealous?

He never felt jealous.

Did he?

He doesn't know anymore.

All he could see is you holding a bouquet of lilies and smelling it while the man hugged you.

He wants to rip the man limb from limb, desecrate his body, and feed it to the alligators.

Why is he wrapping his arms around you like that? He never heard you getting a boyfriend?

And he has a lot of connections to know.

Then he scoffed, like a breath of fresh air rushing into his lungs.

He needed a break.

When did he act like this? When did he become so...

He doesn't even know what it's called.

He's always been a good man. One that doesn't know anger, jealousy, possessiveness...

But what's this? Feelings that stirred inside him threatened to spill out.

So he ran away before it would get worse.

Years later, seeing your name in that certain partylist, he knew he had to join it. Just for a one sided closure he needed.

"Hello! You're Y/N right? You went to the same... School as me!" Maximus said, leaning his upper body to meet your face. His face soft, gentle, and mellow.

"O-oh! Hello sir Maximus! I knew we did, but I didn't know you knew me..." You shyly answered, your thumb brushing against the back of your other hand.

Maximus gulped.

He didn't realize how much he is missing you.

His eyes scanned towards your desk and his eyes widened a bit when he saw the man once more with you in a photo, but this time, with your father and mother.

So, with his trembling lips from the sudden hope bubbling inside him, he pointed.

"Is that your family?" He whispered and you nodded with a soft smile of adoration.

"Yes. I love them a lot." You said, caressing the photo. "That's my dad, mom, and my big brother."

"Oh! That's amazing. It's rare to see a tight knit family nowadays. I mean, families falling left and right, can't people just communicate and--" Maximus rambled, not even caring if the things he's saying is insensitive. He was just so happy that he actually has a chance to woo you.

"Is that so? I mean, my family had fallouts, and sometimes communication is not enough. Actions speak louder than words, of course." You said, carrying the conversation further.

Maximus grinned before taking a seat beside you and talking about deep, familial stuff. With him sprinkling hints of him being a traditional man.

You didn't miss the hints, evident from the blush forming on your cheeks and the shyness emanating from your words faltering.

And he found it adorable.

Once you both ran out of things to debate, he held your hand gently.

"Hey, y/n, what do you think about going on a date with me?"

The rest is history.

"Darling, I'm home!" Maximus yelled once he got inside the mansion. "Today was a bit of a mess..."

Maximus heard an excited gasp and shuffling before he saw you waddling towards him, with a 7 month pregnant belly.

"Welcome home, darling." You greeted him with the smile he loves.

You took off his coat and hung it on the rack, before guiding him towards the kitchen.

"I helped cook today! The dinner for this night is lamb ch... Maximus?"

Maximus has a frown on his face, looking at you with such a disapproving look.

"Darling, why are you working in the kitchen?" He gently asked, caressing your belly. "You're pregnant, you need to rest always!"

You shrunk down a bit, sad.

"But I want to serve you again..."

Maximus' eyes softened at your words before giving you a loving kiss on your forehead.

"I know, darling. But that's what the chefs are for right? The servants too. I hired them to take care of you. Of us." He said, guiding you to the couch and gently sitting you down. "I don't want you getting tired. You're already being burdened by being pregnant and nurturing our child."

You nodded, easily swayed by his words.

"I know... Give me a kiss?" You asked, tilting your head up. He chuckled and gave you a soft peck.

"There. Now stay there, alright? We'll be eating here in the living room. You're already walking too much." Maximus said before hugging you and going to the kitchen.

Once he got to the kitchen, he grabbed a knife and threw it at the chef that was already cowering in the corner.

"Why did you let Y/N work?" He growled out, his eyes sharp, deadly, and authoritative.

Ever since you got married to Maximus, his protectiveness shot through the roof. He doesn't like it when he doesn't know where you are, he doesn't know when he doesn't know what you are doing, he doesn't like it if you talked to people he doesn't know personally.

He installed cameras, mics, and planted people around you that he knew he can scare into submission.

Especially now you're pregnant, he's making sure you always stayed beside him.

When did he become so twisted, from the nice, generous, and kind politician, to something like... Him?

"S-sir, the madam insisted on cooking for you!" The chef trembled out.

You were a rare type of woman who was so open to just being at home, and be the wife he needed to see every time he goes home.

He can't let you go.

Ever.

Maximus sneered and bit his nail, eyes sharp with thoughts.

"I need to drill in more thoughts into her pretty head..." Maximus grumbled.

You were already so willing just being inside the mansion, and so open to his manipulation that you weren't aware of.

He told you that you don't need to go out, that the world was a scary place for a wife like you. And that whenever you go out, you needed to be by his side.

He's already working so hard serving the city, and serving you is a bonus, and a privilege.

He's so occupied with taking care of the place both of you growing up, yet had the time, love, affection, and care to single you out and shower you with his attention. Why would you need to do anything other than serving him as his wife? That's blasphemy, and selfish.

He drilled that in your mind.

And you were so accepting of the fact too.

"If she insisted on helping in the kitchen once more, tell her 'what would sir think?', okay?" He spat out at the poor chef before suddenly smiling. "Don't tell anybody this, or else your family gets it."

He walked away with a triumphant smile and grabbed the food from the counter.

He walked towards you, and saw you scratching your cheek softly confused and scared, almost.

"What's wrong, darling?" Maximus asked, worry etched on his face as he sat down beside you.

"Oh, uh, I just..." You gave him your phone, which was ringing with the number of the exclusive nursery room designer he hired. "C-can you talk to him? I don't know what to do..."

Maximus shivered, seeing you so dependent on him.

Clueless on what to do, on what to say.

He smiled before taking the call for you, with his hand holding yours.

You didn't even start eating yet, waiting for his words to start.

His cute little wife can't even eat by herself.

How... perfect.

This was his perfect life.

With the perfect wife.

And he'll be damned if he didn't protect this.

If he didn't protect you.

So just be swayed with his words and put yourself in his palm.

He will make sure you are well taken care of, and that your pretty little brain will not hurt from thinking too much.

That's a promise.

[scremogirl]

☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✧✰☀︎︎

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰

Yandere! Serial killer x reader pt 2

GN! Reader, Mentions of blood, Mentions of mutilation, Mentions of stalking. Part 1 is here part 3 is here. Read the note at the end plz, ty!

You’re joking.

Your Uber was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago! There’s no way you're taking the bus this late and staying here is already out of the question. You’re most definitely not spending another twenty dollars on another shammy lift either. As you contemplate your predicament, you can hear the aggressive typing of a phone's keyboard as Malika writes a strongly worded review.

“Dammit! What the hell’re we supposed to do now? There’s absolutely no way I’m staying here,” you’re all out of options, maybe the best thing is just to wait here until your school bus comes back.

“Are you crazy?! I’m not-“ you cut her off before she can finish. I mean, what else are you supposed to do? You guys aren’t willing to take any of the other options presented so, all you can do is sit and wait. Look on the bright side, you’ve waited almost a full year to be here; no guy should ruin it for you. She thinks long and hard about it before lighting up again.

“You know what, fine. But if we stay you’re entering that competition and you’re gonna win,”

So here you are now. Scrambling around like a headless chicken with a stray killer on the loose. Let’s take it back some shall we?

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our animal Freak do Sheek costume competition! Our contestants have worked all year round perfecting there costumes in order to win our $800 dollar cash prize. Here’s how it works, you’ll-,”

You tune out the announcer in favor of the sound of your beating heart. You’ve never been this nervous before! You’ve done this hundreds of times and always came up on top, so why? I’ll tell you why; that same egotistical show off of an axe murder is entering the competition too.

He stands there staring at you silent and unmoving. The only thing that’s different about him is that the paper mache mask from earlier had been replaced with the face of the person who bumped into you. Man, he really thought all of this out didn’t he? You’re brought back to earth by the opening of the curtain revealing you and the rest of the contestants. The crowd cheers in excitement and this alone reminds you as to why you’re here. Malika as well as the rest of your class sit in the audience cheering you on. Hm? Your teachers not here. Whatever, it’s probably the only night he could legally get drunk at school and not have to deal with the repercussions. After the modeling is over you all recoup on stage and watch as the audience places their votes in the ballot box. Squirming in anticipation and nervous sweat beading down your forehead, you anxiously await the answer.

“The results are in! The winner is, drum roll please…” your breath stops and you can’t contain your jitters.

“Mr Axe Murder!” of course! Malika and your classmates give you a sadden smile but you don’t return it. In fact, you give them the brightest one yet. All these years you’ve been waiting for someone to match your talent, sick and tired of always expecting the best and reaching it. You needed a challenge, a thrill; and he gave it to you. Standing next to him on the podium you smile up at him. Sure he was an asshole before, but he deserved it. Looking at the camera as the three first place winners are to take a picture, he swings his axe up, presumably in a posing manner. How wrong were you? Just after the flash he brings his weapon down and with one clean swipe, lops off the head of the rando in third place.

You freeze in shock. This has to be some kinda gag, a prank or something. Everyone else screams and flees as he turns over to the announcer and gives him the same fate as your fellow contestant. The others dash off the stage and he walks towards you, reaching out to grab you. Before he can, Malika jumps on stage and drags you away faster than ever. All you see from behind your shoulder is the struggle of the security guards to hold down his hulking frame.

“What in the absolute fuck was that!” How the hell are you supposed to know!? Next thing you know you just got back into the fun of the night when an undercover serial killer decapitates someone right in front of you.

“Wait… didn’t you say that you saw that same guy hacking into someone else?” …oh. my. god. How could you be so stupid? I mean all the signs were in front of you and you ignored it! He has their face on his for crying out loud! Wait a minute. Face? You turn to Malika and the realization hits you both. Just as you're about to speak, siren blairs throughout the festival.

“Attention! The killer known as the “Mask Maker” has made his way into the festival and has incited a rampage. It is recommended that everyone stays calm and evacuate the premises immediately. I repeat, a killer is on the loose!”

Fuck! You should’ve taken the bus! There’s nothing you can do as you rush towards the exit of the building. Pushing your way past the hoards of people trying to escape this hell house. It’s too late though. The crazed lunatic has already scoped out the area and has started slashing anyone he can get to. He makes eye contact with you and suddenly stops his pursuit of the other patrons. Sprinting his way towards you. This time, it’s your turn to grab Malika and run as fast as you can, running into the first fun house you see.

Making your way inside, you duck and cover into the darkness as you hear the door shut and lock behind you. Venturing deeper into the funhouse into a mock corn field. Malika lets out a shriek as she turns your head and there you see it. There you find the mangled body of your teacher forced into the outfit of a discarded scarecrow, face missing. While surprising, she just alerted him to where your location was.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to but what the fuck is going on,” she cried out. You’re trapped, a killer is targeting you and you don’t know why and all of your colleagues are dead. How are you gonna escape this!?

Split up? Bait him out? Call for help?

“That’s all some white people shit,” in times of need you can always count on her abrasiveness to lighten the mood. You let out a slight giggle, maybe at her brashness or maybe out of anxiousness, you couldn’t tell the difference. Just then the door clicks open and the lights flicker on. You duck further down into the fake stocks of corn and stay as silent as possible. You watch as he makes his way into the next room, but as you sprint up in the opposite direction I hand grabs at Malika's hair. He attempts to slash at her arm but only manages to make a very minimal cut after you picked up a stray rake and bashed him over the head with it. You scoot past him and run out of the maze and back into Main Street, him right on you heels.

Just in the nick of time, you two are able to make it out of the festival when the gates closed. He banged and swung at the gates but you two weren’t sticking around to see if he’d break through. Running between the parking lots looking for anyone or anything you can use to get the hell out of here. Just then your phone dings with a notification. It says you Ubers right in front of you . You whip your head around in delight only for the smile on your face to drop. Your Uber arrived a while ago,you were the ones that were late. He’s hanging out of the crashed car, blood dripping everywhere and face gone. Also leaned up against the car is Gill and the harlot he decided to give your friend up for; or what’s left of them. In the corner of your eye you can see the tiniest grin spread across your friend's face. You decide not to question it as you have more important things to do. You two agreed that your best option was to make a mad dash to the bust stop where at least one person would notice you.

Making it there you both pull out your phones and with the remaining power they have left, call the police and notify them about where you abouts. The roads are empty and it looks like a ghost town. Overwhelmed with everything you break down in the middle of the ghost town. At this point you’ve accepted your fate and thought there was no point in fighting.

“Malika, I just wanted you to know that after whatever happens tonight, I love you,” you look up at her with tears in your eyes and a sad smile.

“Thank you for being my friend,” she stares at you, silent. Her own tears forming and sliding down her cheeks as she drops to her knees and hugs you close. You two lay there sobbing for a good while before she pulls away and shouts.

“I can’t do this anymore!” huh?

“I- I’m sorry, (Y/N) I don’t know what came over me! I’ve always been so jealous of you when I had no right to be. I wasn’t thinking straight. I'm so, so sorry! This is all my fault,” what? What is she talking about?

“Woah, woah; what’re you talking about?”

“All of this! I knew he was coming. I-… I knew he’d be after you,” you stare at her confused before giving a short giggle, but this isn’t time for jokes.

“It’s him (Y/N),” she can’t be serious right now.

“I am. I knew all along; that’s why I dragged you here. That’s why I wanted you to go to that school. That’s why I wanted- I wanted this to happen,”

………………………………………………………………………………….

“Hey! Do you mind if I sit here?” That’s how all of this started. By being nice. By being a decent human being. You don’t remember much about the school; you choose not to. You barely made it through the first semester there. All because of him. Keegan Krane. A man of the arts just like yourself, though, he focused his talents on something more traditional. Wherever he went there was at least a pencil and some acrylics tucked neatly in that tote bag he carried around. He was amazing at what he did! Best of his class, featured in shows all around the area, the whole nine yards. So, it’s reasonable for you to question why he decided to come here when he could be at the top.

“I don’t need to be at the top,” he’d tell you. Eyes locked on yours, his intense wavering in his intense gaze.

“Besides, if I would’ve never met you, I don’t know what I’d do,” ever the charmer he was. Until he wasn’t. You see, Keegan wasn’t who you thought he was. At first he was just some random guy who went to your school. Then he was some random guy who you shared almost all your classes with. Then he was the guy who sat next to you in most of them. He slowly turned into your acquaintance, then your friend, best friend, then your boyfriend. Or at least that’s what he thought.

You’ve always thought he was smart. He knew almost every painting by their name to the artist to what materials they used. He loved literature and poems and would often write them in his free time. He could cook better than anyone you’ve ever known and was exactly your type. He was perfect; maybe just a little too much.

You remember the exact day when the notes started showing up, right before college in senior year. You always wondered where and who they’d come from but anytime you’d ask, you’d never get a sufficient answer. Malika said to enjoy all the attention from your secret admirer but you couldn’t help to be creeped out. They knew what candies you liked, gave you little figurines from your favorite shows and even knew what route you took home.

Over time the notes became increasingly disturbing and the feeling of eyes on your back lingered throughout the day; no matter if you were in school or not. After the discovery of a mutilated carcass of what you assumed was a dead rat with a birds face, you went to the police. Fuck going the principal, all he would ever say was “we’ll check the cameras,” and “kids these days are always to shy to confess,”. Yea right, that was a confession enough, one of a future psychopath.

The notes turned into drawings, drawings turned into pictures, pictures turned into the mangled faces of unfortunate creatures, those turned into breaking and entering; stealing panties, used toothbrushes, the hair from your hairbrush, and that turned into a criminal case. Everything stopped after you went to the police, they most likely knew and were too afraid they’d get caught. Oh how wrong you were. Because that same person followed you to where you were now.

…………………………………………………………………....................

Just after, the man of the hour makes his way from out of the bushes, axe in hand and dragging the dead body of an officer.

“It’s him, (Y/N),” he removes his mask to reveal the face you seen in your darkest dreams.

“It’s Keegan,”

Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed the 2nd part of this. Ik the plot twist is a little confusing but it’ll all make sense in the third installment, trust. It may come out on Halloween it might not, I’m tryin 😭. I wasn’t confident in this but like I said it’ll all come together later. My Ao3 has been created and imma work on moving my posts there too. This was a little long so if you’re still here ty! Bye guys ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

-Love, Sosa ❤️